Chapter 17 #2
“That may be,” Gwen replied, her voice tight, “but it does not change the fact that he was dishonest with me.”
Her father moistened his lips before replying.
“I think it does, Gwen. Aidan is a man caught in a tangle of duty and desperation. His sister was attacked in her own home mere weeks ago, and he believes she remains in danger. He was frantic to uncover the truth, and he made a mistake. He accused the wrong man.”
Her father leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his gaze steady and full of quiet reflection. “But here is what matters … I was not forthcoming either. I had secrets, too. Had I spoken plainly, much of this might have been avoided. My own silence made things worse.”
“You mean about the artwork and the properties?” she asked.
“I do. I have plans, Gwen. My income had plateaued, and I saw a chance to build something new. Something lasting. I am going into business.”
“The shipping company.”
He blinked, clearly startled. “You knew?”
Gwen nodded. “After you sold the northern estate, I became concerned. I needed to know whether you had taken leave of your senses.”
He huffed a laugh. “And how did you work it out?”
Gwen gestured toward the desk. “I went through your office. I found the notebook in the bottom drawer. You had written down details about the ships. Load capacities, journey dates, information about captains and officers. I concluded you were evaluating them for purchase.”
Her father blinked in surprise. “And yet you said nothing?”
She lifted one shoulder. “What was there to say? I approved of your plan. You seemed to have everything well in hand.”
“And the consequences?”
“There will be a scandal,” she said evenly. “That is why you insisted we host the ball. You wished me to marry before society discovered you were lowering our family’s standing by entering trade.”
He inclined his head. “Aidan noted certain inconsistencies … enough to suspect I might be the man he was seeking. But once he learned the truth, he took action. He arranged for support. The Duke of Halmesbury, Lord Saunton, Lord Moreland, and Lord Filminster have all pledged to back me. Quietly, of course. It means I can proceed with greater ambition and far less risk. Their involvement is more than I could have hoped for, and Aidan made it happen. Because he is committed to this marriage.”
She turned her face away. “He has no choice. He is bound to me now.”
Her father gave a quiet sigh. “A man always has a choice, Gwendolyn. And Aidan chose you.”
Gwen fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve, her fingers twisting the fabric in agitation. “I have tried to imagine what it was like for him … to be caught in the middle of a family crisis. I can even appreciate the desperation that drove him. But it does not erase the lies.”
He sat forward, his expression firm. “And I believe you have allowed your past to cast a long shadow over your future. Those cruel words at school, the senseless mockery, they do not deserve this power over you. You are no longer that girl.” His voice softened.
“Those girls are gone. Their opinions matter not at all. What matters now is your life. Your marriage.”
Tears stung her eyes. She swallowed hard and blinked them away. “How can I believe he chose me of his own accord?”
Her father’s eyes crinkled with a hint of a smile. “I think you should allow him the chance to prove it. Use that brilliant mind of yours to see what is right in front of you.”
Papa rose and crossed the room, opening one of the terrace doors and standing aside.
Gwen frowned, peering past him into the dark. The sky beyond was a sweep of velvet black, twinkling with distant stars. Without a moon to cast its silver glow, the night appeared especially deep, profoundly still.
Her father tilted his head toward the doorway in a silent invitation.
She hesitated. Her hands clenched, then unclenched at her sides. She wanted to see Aidan. And she did not. Her heart wavered between longing and dread.
Several moments passed.
“Go to him, Gwendolyn,” her father urged gently.
With a sigh that was more resignation than agreement, she rose and moved across the room. She paused in the doorway, casting her gaze down to her slippers, seeking strength.
“You will never do anything in this world without courage,” her father said, his voice low and firm. “It is the greatest quality of the mind, next to honor.”
She glanced back at him, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. “You are not such a terrible scholar after all, Papa. Quoting Aristotle at such a moment.”
“There is always time for Aristotle,” he replied in a falsetto that mimicked her mother’s tone so precisely that Gwen gave a startled laugh, even through her nervousness. It was an echo of the past, one that warmed her heart and gave her strength.
With a deep breath, she stepped onto the terrace.
The door shut quietly behind her.
She was alone.
Looking about, she found no sign of Aidan. The terrace stretched out before her, washed in the soft hush of night.
Then she saw it.
Down at the far end of the terrace, near the very place where she had first encountered Aidan, hung a softly glowing orb. A lantern. It swung gently from the eaves of the house, lit from within, casting a serene golden light.
Gwen took a step closer.
The lantern was round, delicate, and unmistakably fashioned in the likeness of the moon. Along the balustrade, dozens of candles flickered, mimicking the scatter of stars across the heavens.
And suddenly, she understood.
The entire terrace had been transformed into a reflection of the night they first met.
She raised her hands to her mouth, emotion breaking through her chest in a soft, stifled sob. The beauty of it, the thoughtfulness, it reached a place within her that had been locked in sorrow.
Then, a voice carried across the still night air. Low and steady.
“She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow’d to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.”
Gwen choked back another sob, her breath catching as she turned, and found Aidan kneeling behind her. The glow of the moon-shaped lantern bathed him in golden light, and she could scarcely breathe for the ache in her chest.
Byron’s words still echoed in the air, but now she needed Aidan’s.
He reached for her hand, pressing it to his cheek.
“I am so sorry, my love,” he said, his voice steady but rich with emotion. “I am sorry I deceived you. But more than that, I am sorry I never said what was in my heart.”
He drew in a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers.
“From the moment you recited that verse of Manilius, I knew. I had found the other half of my soul. A woman who would challenge me, who would keep me honest, and whom I would cherish until my final breath. I could not walk away. That is why I kissed you in the moonlight. I love you, Gwen Abbott. With everything that I am.”
Tears slipped silently down her cheeks, tracing her chin and neck, but she did not brush them away.
“How can I know it is true?” she whispered.
Aidan stared pensively back up at her, biting his lip. “What if I told you a secret? An embarrassing secret that a man would only tell his beloved wife …” He hesitated. “And perhaps a very close friend.”
Gwen used her palms to wipe her cheeks, and nodded, intrigued to hear what he might tell her. Would she finally learn something tangible about her moonlight visitor?
Aidan rose up, peering over his shoulder before leaning down to whisper in her ear. “You are the only woman I have ever lain with, Gwen. The only one who ever tempted me.”
Gwen gasped, pulling back to gaze up into his face. “Is that true?”
Aidan peered about again, as if afraid of being overheard. “It is.”
“You mean the other night when we …”
Her husband’s brows shot up, and he swiftly raised a finger to press her lips shut. “Shh … and yes.”
Gwen pursed her lips while she thought about his confession. Slowly, a warmth began to spread through her body, sending shivers down her arms and legs. Even her head felt giddy. Pulling his hand away, she leaned in and whispered into his ear. “I was your first?”
He bobbed his head, murmuring close to tickle her hair with his warm breath. “I left that afternoon to receive lessons on what to do. I … did not want to disappoint you.”
It was not the sort of secret a gentleman would typically share, especially not with the woman he adored.
Gwen threw her arms around his neck, her heart overflowing at the trust he had shown her. “Oh, Aidan,” she whispered. “I love you, too!”
He drew her into his arms, and under the gentle glow of the moon-shaped lantern, their lips met.
The kiss was tender and deep with meaning.
A sealing of hearts laid bare with no more secrets to come between them.
In his embrace, Gwen felt as though she had summoned a dream to life beneath the stars.
She barely noticed the soft creak of the terrace doors behind them, so absorbed was she in the moment. When they finally broke apart, breathless and smiling, Gwen glanced toward the sound.
A small crowd stood there, illuminated by the warm light spilling from the house.
At the front, Lily and Filminster beamed with delight, Lily’s impish smile positively glowing.
Behind them stood the duke and duchess, arm in arm.
The Earl and Countess of Saunton stood together in quiet happiness, and Aidan’s parents stood just beyond, their expressions carefully composed though their pride was evident.
Then, with quiet joy, Lily stepped forward and threw out her arms. “Welcome to the family, Gwen Abbott!”
Aidan gently urged her forward. One by one, each member of his family stepped close to greet her. Offering warm embraces, kisses to her cheek, and kind words that wrapped around her like a protective cloak.
Even the duke, typically more reserved, enveloped her in a brief but sincere hug. “Welcome, Gwen. I apologize for the deceptions that brought us here. But we are proud to have you join us. We shall do our best to make amends.”
Gwen was overcome by an incredible warmth. Outside of her own family, she had never known such open affection and certainly not from people of such stature. It felt overwhelming and tender all at once.
Tears welled again, spilling freely as her emotions overcame her.
Lord Moreland stepped forward with a handkerchief in hand. “I am so relieved to learn your father’s true plans, young lady,” he said kindly. “I look forward to a successful future with Frederick Smythe.”
She nodded, dabbing at her face, then gave a grateful blow into the cloth. She finally accepted the truth. Her father had been right. Aidan was the right man.
A sudden growl from her middle made her gasp in dismay. Her eyes widened, mortified. Papa, who had come up behind her to offer a quick hug, chuckled.
“I think it is time to eat, everyone. My daughter has been expecting her supper for quite some time but I had instructed the maid not to bring it.”
Lily immediately seized Gwen’s hand. “I am hungry, too! I have not eaten since breakfast. That was at eight o’clock, and Annabel and the duke are early risers, so now I am, too! But it is difficult, going such long hours without a meal.”
Gwen giggled, caught in the whirlwind of her sister-in-law’s chatter as they walked inside.
She marveled at how wonderful it would be to build connections with each of Aidan’s family members.
Her brother Gareth would surely adore them.
He and little Ethan would get along famously, especially over a chessboard.
She smiled, imagining the fierce and enthusiastic matches they were sure to enjoy.
As they crossed the threshold, Gwen glanced over her shoulder and found Aidan directly behind her.
“Are you going to tell me,” she asked lightly, “why you thought my father had murdered a man?”
He winced, clearly discomfited. “Must I?”
Gwen paused mid-step, and with the spark of courage she had been nurturing, she looked him squarely in the eye.
“Yes,” she said firmly. “You must.”