Chapter 22

Theo was weeding the flowerbed at the front of Thornhill Manor. The house was in better shape than it had been when she'd originally visited in June. Jackson had conveyed a half-dozen men to the estate and they'd been busy painting and repairing. The downstairs parlors were much improved, so too the master suite that they'd prepared for the minute he arrived.

They all worshipped him and wanted him to be pleased with their efforts. Which Jackson would be; she had no doubt about it.

While they'd worked diligently on the interior, they hadn't tended the large lawns or the huge rose garden in the back. She wasn't much of a gardener, and wouldn't claim to be an expert, but she'd been too nervous to tarry inside. She'd come outside to occupy her hands and mind.

Mr. Coswell was staying with them, and he was busy too, studying the account ledgers, interviewing the area farmers and merchants, so he could figure out how to get the property earning money again. He was so clever and she was delighted to have him as her new friend.

The staff was aghast to have her toiling away in the yard and they constantly tried to dissuade her from any strenuous activity. With her being Jackson's betrothed, they didn't deem it appropriate for her to engage in physical labor, but it didn't bother her. There were too many chores to accomplish and she was too anxious to pretend she was a lady of leisure.

What was happening in London?

Three weeks had passed since Jackson had sent her to the country. She was glad she'd left the city, but apprehension and curiosity were killing her. What was delaying him?

Mr. Coswell was at Thornhill with her, so Jackson was by himself as he executed numerous legal seizures. He still had several of his veteran-servants with him in town, so she probably oughtn't to worry, but she couldn't help it.

Georgina was dangerous and determined. What if she'd moved against him? What if he'd been swept up before he'd realized he would be? What if he was languishing in a jail cell as Theo had been?

He hadn't written to her, so if he was imperiled, they wouldn't have heard. She could only hope—if he was in jeopardy—that the servants at the town house would inform her. If that was the case, the men lodged at Thornhill could rush to London to create chaos on his behalf.

Cedric Bennett was with her. He was seated on a chair and watching her pull weeds and turn clods of dirt with her shovel. He was imperious and very lazy and it would never have occurred to him to pitch in. Instead, he was offering suggestions and pointing out her mistakes. She was mostly ignoring him.

Of all the odd events that had transpired recently, her budding friendship with him was the most peculiar. When she'd headed to Thornhill, he'd tagged along. Initially, she'd been furious, but he was such a placid, unflappable fellow that it was impossible to aggravate him or chase him away.

He was very stubborn, just like his son, and he was relentlessly certain that they had to be cordial, merely because they were both so fond of Jackson. Cedric was older and wiser than she was, so she couldn't fault his reasoning.

Gradually, he'd worn her down with his easy charm. She'd yearned to loathe him, and had planned to loathe him, but he was too nice and too interesting. If she was really about to wed Jackson, and it appeared that she was, she could hardly dislike his father.

Cedric was a sly dog. He'd roped her in by talking about her mother and their failed affair: how they'd met, how they'd schemed, how they'd orchestrated their furtive exit. He was unrepentant about their amour, but then, he'd had many illicit liaisons in his life, and he didn't view any of them as wrong or immoral.

She hadn't been able to disregard the stories he told about her mother. She'd ordered herself not to listen, not to hang on his every word, but she was simply so intrigued. He had answers to the questions that had always haunted her: Why had her mother run away? What had she thought afterward, once she'd escaped? Had she been relieved and content? Or did she have regrets? If so, what were they?

The most riveting news was the revelation that her mother had waxed on about obtaining custody of Theo and Charlotte, bringing them to Paris, so they could be together. It had been a deranged notion, one that had been as unhinged as her absconding in the first place. A mother had no legal right to her children and she could never have yanked them away from Theo's father. The courts wouldn't even have entertained such a request, not after she'd deserted her family and committed adultery.

Her chatter about her daughters had forced Cedric to reconsider his role in their folly. He'd snuck off with her to have a passionate affair and he'd had no desire to have two little girls burst onto the scene. He'd been thinking of tiptoeing away, but he'd fretted about abandoning her in Paris. About the time he'd had one foot out the door, her father's men had arrived to beat him bloody and drag her mother to England to face her husband.

The pathetic tale had altered Theo's opinion about the scandal. Despite what her father had insisted, her mother hadn't hated her and Charlotte. Nor had she truly meant to leave them behind. She'd saved herself, then she'd immediately begun to debate methods by which she could have saved them too.

The disclosure had rocked the foundations of Theo's world and had changed her attitude on many issues. She no longer detested her mother; she no longer blamed her. She hadn't decided what other attitude might ultimately settle in, but for the moment, she'd stopped being so angry.

She straightened and rubbed her back, wiping sweat from her brow, as Cedric loafed and acted as if he was in charge.

"Are you sure Jackson is fine?" she asked.

"Of course I'm sure."

"He hasn't written and he could have. I'd feel so much better if he'd kept us apprised." She'd penned several letters to him, posted to the town house, but hadn't received a single reply. His silence was maddening.

Cedric shrugged. "He's a typical male. He reads his correspondence, but unless it's official army business or some such, he's not concerned enough to respond."

"What if Georgina paid even more bribes and had him arrested? What if he's in trouble, but we haven't been alerted?"

"Jackson is the toughest, smartest, and bravest man I've ever met, so your stepmother could never endanger him. Not if she had a hundred years to try. She's not the sharpest nail in the shed."

Theo snorted at that. "She may be a renowned dunce, but she managed to harm me quite effectively."

"You weren't expecting such a dose of malice though. You're an ordinary person and you wouldn't have had any experience in dealing with a criminal like her. You didn't understand how treacherous she could be, but Jackson has repeatedly wrestled with villains like her. She couldn't catch him off guard and she could never hurt him."

"I hope you're right."

"I'm always right," he cockily said, "so please don't listen to whatever Jackson might claim about me."

She chuckled and would have returned to her gardening, but her attention was captured by motion out on the road. She focused in and realized a carriage was approaching. It was too far away to decipher any details, but it was pulled by four horses and it had a fancy crest on the side.

"Is that Jackson?" she said.

Cedric glanced around and stared hard. "I believe it is."

"Oh, and I'm a mess! Isn't that just my luck?"

She was wearing a faded gown and apron, gloves, and a man's cap she'd found on a hook in the kitchen. Her skirt was stained with dirt, her face smudged, her hair loose and tied with a ribbon. She was untidy as a washerwoman on laundry day.

Cedric smirked. "My son hasn't seen you in three weeks. I'm betting he won't notice a bit of grime."

She probably should have stayed where she was, should have patiently waited as he neared, but she was overcome by such a wave of joy that she couldn't delay their greeting. Previously, she'd questioned whether she should marry him or not, but as she'd been tucked away at Thornhill, she'd had plenty of opportunities to ponder the past and the future. What did she want? What didn't she want?

She'd reached one conclusion: She wanted to keep Jackson Bennett for her very own. She didn't care about their petty squabble or the underlying reason he'd decided to wed her. She especially didn't care about his gambling with Arthur or Arthur owing him money.

HH Imports was destined to go to her husband. Why not let it be Jackson? How could that be a bad ending for her? He and Mr. Coswell could seize the reins and fix what Arthur had wrecked. Why not allow that to happen?

If she was obstinate, if she fussed over his wagering with Arthur, she'd be permitting Arthur to determine her fate. Why would she give him that power?

If she refused Jackson, what would become of her? He would flit away and she couldn't bear to suppose they would ever part. A life without him would be no life at all. She wanted to live happily ever after at Thornhill. She wanted to spend her days, restoring the grand old manor. She wanted everything to be perfect from this moment on. She was in love with him and she would always love him. If he didn't ever love her back, it wouldn't matter. She would possess enough affection for both of them.

She tossed down her shovel and raced out to the driveway and down the lane. She didn't dawdle to so much as remove her apron. She was that anxious to be with him again.

The driver saw her and he yanked the horses to a stop. By the time she made it to the vehicle, an outrider had set the step and was helping Jackson down. He turned toward her, and with the sun shining down, and a verdant pasture spread out behind him, she'd never witnessed a more magnificent sight.

She staggered to a halt and one of those odd intervals unfolded. The breeze quit blowing. Birds quit flying in the sky. The universe was marking the occasion, reminding them that they'd wound up in the precise spot where they were meant to be.

"Hello, Theodora," he said, grinning. "Have you missed me?"

"Yes, you rat! And I've been worried sick. You didn't write to me once and I've been frantic over what was transpiring."

"You never need to fret about me. Haven't you heard? I have nine lives."

He boasted of it as an outrider slipped him his cane to aid with his balance and she said, "You may have nine lives, Sgt. Bennett, but in my opinion, you've used up seven or eight of them."

"I'm like an old clock. I keep on ticking."

He held out a hand to her and she ran over and hugged him tight, as if she'd never let him go. He kissed her hair, her cheek, her mouth, not concerned that they had an audience. The air was thick with fondness and tears flooded her eyes. He was finally home where he belonged, and if she had her way—and she intended to have it often—he wasn't departing ever again.

He had to remain by her side, so she could tend him constantly, so he'd regain his health and lost stamina. As with repairing his beautiful, decrepit mansion, she would repair him too.

"I thought I'd never arrive," he eventually said.

"We were beginning to think the same."

"I've been too busy to reply to your letters. Do you forgive me?"

"I will always forgive you." She paused, then added, "Well, I assume I always will. You're such a rogue that I probably can't envision the complete list of mischief you might ultimately stir."

"I try to behave," he claimed and she laughed.

"I know that's not correct. Aren't you the wastrel who brags about how he gambles and consorts with doxies?"

"I might be shucking off my bad habits—just for you. Maybe I'm growing up."

She chortled with amusement. "For which the entire kingdom will be eternally grateful."

They walked toward the house, his arm draped over her shoulders, hers around his waist. The carriage rolled slowly behind them, his servants hovering close and watching him like a hawk, in case he couldn't continue on his own. Their obvious apprehension was unnerving.

"How is your leg?" she inquired. "You're limping more than usual."

He shrugged. "Recently, I've been on my feet too much, so it's aching."

"Can you make it to the door?"

"Absolutely. I'm not an invalid. Is Coswell here?"

"Yes, and he's toiling away on your behalf. He's devised a dozen plans to get Thornhill in the black."

"He's a persistent, brilliant fellow. You should put him in charge of HH Imports. He'll have it squared away very fast."

"It's already occurred to me—with you supervising him."

"I was hoping you'd want that. He's very thorough and I'm very assertive, so he and I will be an excellent team."

"How are my relatives?" she asked as they strolled along. "Please tell me I'll never hear from them again."

"Would you like the truth? Or should I lie, so you're not disturbed by their condition?"

She pinched him. "Tell me the truth—now and always."

"They are locked away in Newgate Prison and they're not happy about it."

She sucked in a sharp breath. "Are you joking?"

"No, and don't you dare insist they deserve some mercy. They committed fraud against you for years and I won't listen to you begging me to be lenient."

She pondered the news and she was conflicted as to what their fate should be. They'd been greedy and reprehensible, yet they were her family. How angry was she? How vengeful should she be? What penalties were appropriate?

On the spur of the moment, she couldn't decide and she supposed—over the coming weeks—she'd sort it out.

"I'll worry about them later on," she said. "So much has happened, in such a short period, that I can't figure out what's best."

"Don't nag at me about them. If you wind up yearning to be kind to them, it will seriously annoy me. I have more of a temper than you and I can stay furious for ages."

"I'm betting you're right."

"Despite what you might request, I will arrange their conclusions."

"You sound as if you'll be a bossy, dictatorial husband. Are you imagining I'll enjoy having a tyrant for a spouse?"

"Every husband is a dictator. It's how the Good Lord structured the world."

She tsked with exasperation. "Where is Lola Carter? Are we shed of her too?"

"Even as we speak, she is on a ship and sailing to India."

Theo blanched with surprise. "Really? I was certain she'd never cease to plague us. How did you persuade her?"

"I didn't give her a choice. She wasn't happy either, but on occasion, I can be quite a bully." He chuckled, then pulled her to a stop. "Are we still getting married? While I was trapped in London, I was so afraid you'd change your mind."

"I won't change it. You're stuck with me."

"Aren't I lucky?" He patted the pocket in his coat. "I obtained a Special License, so the local vicar can perform the ceremony immediately. Would you like to hold it tomorrow morning?"

"I would like that, but before we can proceed, I need some promises from you."

"What are they? I'm very weary, so don't make them too difficult to accomplish or you'll set me up to fail."

"I can't guess if this will be difficult or not, my most dedicated bachelor, but you have to declare yourself eager to reside in the country with me. In several previous conversations, you've claimed you hate the country and you've never been keen to have received Thornhill. If you're marrying me, you have to remain here where you belong."

"I'm anxious for that ending. My father was a nomad and we never had a home of our own. I'm prepared to plant some deep roots."

She studied his eyes, seeing sincerity there. "Swear to me that you mean it. Once we recite our vows, I'll expect you to stand by them. If you start to crave the excitement in the city, if you start to regret that you can't carouse and gamble, I won't let you leave."

"It's simple to swear about it. From this day forward, I don't intend to ever be anywhere but by your side."

"And no doxies! Not ever again! Not a single one! I have to be most adamant on that issue. I'm concerned that monogamy and fidelity to me—your wife—might be the hardest change for you."

He smiled, his gaze fond and endearing. "It won't be hard. I'm tired, Theo. I'm ready to put myself in your capable hands. Will you take care of me forever?"

"Yes, but in the future, if you begin to chafe and stare wistfully at the horizon, I will tie you to a bedpost, so you can't sneak off when I'm not paying attention."

"I won't ever sneak off. Even if I considered it, my leg hurts too much."

"I'll shall spend my life being your most devoted nurse. I will tend you and heal you."

He drew her to him, and for a lengthy interval, they were locked together, the horses and servants watching.

To her great astonishment, he murmured, "I love you."

She gasped with delight and she slid away so she could peer into his cherished face. "I love you too, but I never thought you would feel the same. What brought this on?"

"When I was in town, straightening out your problems, I missed you so much—when I've never missed a woman before. I couldn't deduce what was wrong with me, and finally, I was blindsided by the truth: I'm madly, desperately in love with you."

"I'm thrilled to hear it and you can't ever stop."

"I won't stop. With one look, I was totally ensnared. All those months ago, I saw you and I realized I was doomed and my bachelorhood over."

"We were both lonely and wandering and we needed things to improve."

"I agree." He sighed with gladness. "Is that your whole list of promises? Or did you have some others to extract from me?"

"They're not promises, but I have two requests."

"Requests are easier than promises."

"Wait until you learn what they are. First, I've lost track of my sister, Charlotte. I've written numerous letters to her at the school where she was teaching, but they've been returned as undeliverable. I just received a reply from a gentleman who tells me the school was shuttered and the teachers fired. He had no information as to her whereabouts."

"My goodness. That's a tad disturbing, isn't it?"

"I'm so afraid she'll show up in London, but the town house is closed, and she isn't aware that I'm at Thornhill."

"I will send some men immediately, to investigate."

"Thank you."

"What is your other request?"

"I'm about to ask you for a huge favor."

"This sounds serious. Should I brace myself?"

"I don't know." She inhaled a deep breath, mustered her courage, then said, "My mother is about to be released from the convent in Scotland. I would like to travel there to meet her, then fetch her home to live with us. What would you think of that?"

"I don't mind, but are you sure about it? The manor is very big, so there's plenty of space for her, but won't it be taxing for you? In light of her tribulations, you have no idea what kind of person she's become. I would hate to have you distressed by her."

"I won't be distressed. I've been talking to your father about the period when she ran away."

He scoffed. "He's a proficient liar, so that's always dicey. You understand that, don't you?"

"Yes, but she never meant to leave me behind. She didn't intend to abandon me forever. Now, she doesn't have any money or friends and I'm her daughter."

"If that's how you feel, then I will definitely take you to Scotland. But can we still get married tomorrow? Or would you like to delay until she's here too, so she can attend the ceremony?"

Theo didn't have to ponder. "I'd like our wedding to be tomorrow. I'm not about to wait."

"Tomorrow it is," he said.

He kissed her again and they continued on to the house.

THE END