Chapter Fourteen
Hugged into Blaine’s chest, Geraldine wondered if she’d ever get warm again.
Her silks and underpinnings were soaked through, her breeches a slap of ice against her legs and her boots were still full of freezing river water.
He was holding her so close she could barely catch her breath, and as he urged Thunder up onto the bank, she clung to him so as not to fall off.
“B-B-Blaine,” she stuttered.
“Hush.”
Sighing, she hushed. She had little energy left to do much else, so she simply hung on and only vaguely registered the noise surrounding them.
“I’ve got Flora, Miss Gerry. I got ‘er.” Jepson’s voice penetrated her confused brain.
“Th-Th-Thank you,” she managed.
“Yer all right then?” He almost sounded worried.
She dredged up what she hoped would pass as a smile, but the chattering of her teeth didn’t help much. “I’m f-f-fine. Just c-c-cold…”
The cheers went over her head, and it was certain that Blaine never stopped until he reached Kendall Hall, so anyone who spoke to them was neither heard nor acknowledged.
“Hot water, Mrs Daniels, and plenty of it.”
The words made his chest rumble and roused Geraldine from a frozen haze. Her legs were growing numb, her fingers in wet leather gloves didn’t seem to work right, and she was just exhausted.
So the time in between being in Blaine’s arms on horseback, and the time she thawed out in a large tub of hot water, passed without her paying much, if any, attention to anything.
Finally, her Mama’s voice drew her back into herself.
“Darling daughter, oh my sweet girl.” Warmth swished over her most delightfully. “Geraldine. It’s Mama. Come along now. You must get out of the bath soon.”
Opening her eyes, Geraldine blinked. “I’m in a tub.” She glanced up. “Mama. What are you doing here?” Looking around, she frowned. “Where are we? This isn’t my chamber…”
“No, darling.” Mrs Foster stroked her cheek.
“You’re at Kendall Manor, and you were freezing cold.
Do you remember? You and Flora went into the river to save those children?
” Her mother’s eyes filled with tears. “You saved them, my dear. Saved them all, thanks to a miracle and Sir Blaine Kendall. But you were so cold.”
“I was,” she recalled it all. “But I’m warm now.”
“You are, and I am so happy. We’ve had Dr. Stephens in to look at you – he was at the finish line, which was so very convenient. He said you should be fine, but to take it easy for a few days. If you have any headaches or other troubles, you’re to let him know immediately.”
“Of course.” Eager to see Blaine, she reached for a towel. “Oh dear. Clothes?”
Her mother shook her head and rose from the side of the tub. “No. Had I known what you intended, young lady, I might possibly have thought to slip a gown into the carriage, just in case.” She stared at her daughter. “However, that topic will be discussed later, I’m sure, once you’re up and around.”
“But…”
“There is a dress over there, kindly provided by Sir Blaine. I believe it was Miss Millicent’s, and it will have to do. We’ve had your underthings, such as they were, drying by the fire.”
“Thank you, Mama.” Geraldine began to dry herself, relishing the warm towel. “Is Papa terribly cross with me?”
“You’d best ask him that question. I can vouch for the fact that yes, I will be very cross with you at some point in the future. Right now, though, I’m simply thankful you’re alive. As are the parents of the children you saved.”
The sob that rattled her mother’s chest made Geraldine wince. “I’m…glad they’re all right. And I’m sorry for making you worry so.”
“I know.” The hug came naturally. “Better get dressed. There are plenty of people here who want to thank you themselves.”
“Here? Hasn’t everyone gone home?”
“Certainly not.” Her mother helped her into the warm gown. “And Sir Blaine has laid on refreshments for everybody, so you could say it’s a sort of party. Mr Wilde even organised some music.” She looked thoughtful. “He’s an interesting and creative gentleman, I must add.”
Geraldine hung her head. “I’ve really made a mess of things, Mama…”
Her mother sighed. “We all do, darling. We all do, at one time or another. Now let me brush your hair into some kind of order, and then you can go downstairs and see everything for yourself.”
Thus, about twenty minutes later, dry, warm, wearing a proper dress and slippers that were slightly too big for her, Geraldine made her way sombrely to the staircase of Kendall Manor.
Only to stop dead as a massive round of applause and cheers broke out before she’d taken more than two steps.
Blaine watched her face as she looked down at the crowd yelling noisily for her.
Clearly, she was stunned, and a flush of embarrassment stained her cheeks within moments of her appearance.
Geraldine deserved the accolades. Every single one of them.
And if he could have brought Flora in to share them, he would have.
Their bravery and quick thinking had saved the lives of several children.
The thought of what she’d done – and what he’d done as well, on a smaller scale – well, it could probably pass for a Christmas miracle of sorts.
But at the same time, he still shuddered inwardly at the knowledge of how close he came to losing her. If Flora had slipped, or the branch broken free to swirl downstream, taking everyone with it…
He moved away from the crowd in the hall and walked up the first couple of steps, holding out his hand to her.
Hesitation writ all over her face, she took another step down toward him, and continued, slowly approaching him as he stood watching.
“Blaine,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“Geraldine,” he answered. “I love you.”
Those words froze her in place for a second or two, then her lips began to curve into a smile. She grabbed her skirts and almost tumbled willy-nilly down into his waiting arms, grabbing his hand, and throwing herself against his chest.
The cheers rang out once more, especially when Blaine lowered his head and kissed her, long and passionately, in front of everyone. Since most of Upper Bicklesworthy had found a place to stand in his hall, he assumed that this was as good as a public declaration of his intentions.
She drew away, glowing, then widening her eyes as she realised where she was. “Blaine?”
He leaned close. “I spoke with your father,” he murmured in her ear. “All is settled.”
“Really?” She glanced past him, to where he knew her parents were now standing. Perhaps they smiled, or nodded, but whatever they did signalled their approval, and she sighed with relief as she let herself rest against him.
“Yes, really. So we should make it formal.” He turned her, keeping an arm around her waist. “Friends…” He raised a hand, and the noise subsided. “You might have already guessed, but I am very proud to announce that Miss Geraldine Foster has done me the honour of accepting my offer of marriage.”
At that, the entire building rang with the cheers and yells of everyone present.
“It was the only way I could get my hands on her horse,” he laughed, knowing that this particular audience needed something simple and practical. Marriage in London was a business. Marriage here was a practical pleasure.
“To celebrate, I suggest we all go into the ballroom. I’ve asked my cook to whip up a few things for us to eat.
Given the short notice, it won’t be fancy, but it will be fresh and tasty.
” He pointed to the end of the hall. “Oh, and our friend Mr Marshall has had his lads bring up a couple of barrels of ale from the Bickle Arms.”
That announcement nearly brought the roof caving in on them, and Blaine held tightly to Geraldine. “I knew they’d like that,” he grinned.
“How…how did you do all this?” She gazed around, her eyes wide.
“I had Fitz helping me. He’s astoundingly effective at getting people to do what he wants. It’s a neat trick of his.”
As if he knew his name was being mentioned, the gentleman himself appeared beside them.
“Congratulations, you two.” He punched Blaine on the shoulder.
“You’ve finally done something right, old chap.
About time.” He bent to Geraldine and dropped a quick kiss on her cheek. “If he hadn’t found you first…”
She laughed. “I know. You’d have married me. But only to get your hands on Flora. And cook’s scones, too, I suppose.”
“Well, that goes without saying,” Fitz shot back, unrepentant and with nary a hint of a blush. “When’s the big day?”
“Uh…”
“Good God, Fitz. We’ve only just settled the business. I think we’re going to need a bit of time to work out the details.”
“I shall expect an invitation.”
“Does one need to formally invite one’s best friend?”
Both men looked at Geraldine.
“Don’t ask me. I have absolutely no knowledge of anything like this. If you’re desperate for those sorts of details, then ask my mother.”
The two men shared a quick glance. Then shook their heads.
“Never mind,” said Fitz.
“We’ll find out at some point,” said Blaine.
“Cowards, both of you,” grinned Geraldine. “But I do hope one of you knows how Flora is?”
Blaine narrowed his eyes and stared at the crowd milling around the steps and strolling toward the ballroom, searching for one particular face. Then he raised his hand and beckoned, and a small figure emerged.
“Jepson.” Geraldine broke free of the two men and hurried toward him, her arms outstretched.
For the briefest moment, the old man hugged the young girl, then immediately dropped away, blushing furiously. “Now stop that, Miss Gerry. Yer in public, dammit.” He sputtered the words as she laughed aloud.
“You’re all right. I’m so happy. Please tell me, how’s my girl?”
The two of them linked arms and walked toward the ballroom.
“There you are, you see? The fickleness of women. You promise to marry them, and they’re off with a groom before you’ve barely finished proposing.” Fitz sighed dramatically.
Blaine rolled his eyes.
Her heart was full, she realised, as she and Jepson entered the ballroom.