Chapter Twenty-Seven
S hay stood in front of the drawing room window at Granville House and gazed out at the late morning sunshine falling across the side garden. Even with a thin layer of snow still covering the ground, he could see evidence of a summer’s bounty of plants of all kinds, all certainly planted there by Sophie. She would do the same to every spare inch of the park at Ravenscroft Manor, too, if he let her.
If he let her? A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He would let her do whatever she wanted, now and for the rest of his life.
He lifted the cup of American coffee to his lips, the same coffee that had already been reheated three times since he’d entered the room. He’d lingered here over a breakfast that should have ended hours ago simply because he hoped Sophie would join him. But yesterday’s excitement had exhausted her, Cora, and Ruby, and all three were still safely ensconced upstairs in their warm beds, clinging to the last lingering drowsiness of well-earned sleep. Sophie needed her rest, although he’d certainly considered sneaking into her room last night instead of remaining in his, the guestroom Granville had gratefully offered for bringing his daughter safely home—that is, after he’d explained all the events of the past few weeks to his father-in-law.
No, not explanation. Interrogation. Her father had been on the verge of throttling him when he’d appeared on his doorstep after nightfall with a bloodied and battered Sophie on his arm, and Shay hadn’t blamed him.
But Granville also understood the love and devotion Shay felt toward Sophie, and he had been willing to forgive him. If grudgingly.
Yet her father had also helped by taking the two other rescued children back to the hospital after letting them spend the night here. The house had been full of life and noise, and Granville had simply glowed from it. Providing a safe and welcoming home for all of them had most likely done the old man more good than all the physicians who’d ever tended to him. One day, Shay knew, he would make a wonderful grandfather.
A soft knock rapped at the door, and Shay spun around, only to find Saunders, the Granville butler. Shay didn’t let his disappointment show. But if his wife didn’t appear soon, he planned on charging upstairs into her room, locking the door behind him, and not letting her out for at least a sennight. Propriety be damned.
“Yes, Saunders?” Shay asked.
“You have a visitor, Your Grace.”
Before Saunders could announce him, Chase Maddox strode into the room and went straight to the chafing dishes on the sideboard to help himself to breakfast. He didn’t bother to toss the butler his hat or coat—or for that matter, to even use a plate—and paused only to peel off his gloves before reaching for several pieces of bacon.
“By all means,” Shay drawled, “join me for breakfast.”
Chase focused his attention on the chafing dishes. “I’ve been a bit busy since we stopped your uncle’s carriage yesterday and haven’t had the chance to eat before now.”
The good-natured teasing that had been present moments before vanished, and Shay tensed. “And?”
He popped the bacon into his mouth and muttered around bites, “Your uncle will no longer be a threat to you or Sophie.”
Thank God. The relief that pulsed through Shay was palpable.
“That is,” Chase clarified as he reached for a cinnamon bun, “if Miss White upholds her end of the agreement.”
“She will.” Sophie would make certain of it.
With a nod, Chase crossed to the table and poured himself a cup of coffee. “I spent the night ensuring that Lord Malcolm will be safely—and quickly—delivered back to Halston House by Lucien, where Pearson will be waiting to give your uncle all the help he needs to vacate the property.” He took a soft slurp of coffee. “After all, Halston is owned by the Duke of Malvern, and the duke would never want to stand in the way of his uncle’s long-expected—if rather sudden and permanent—departure for the continent.”
“He’s agreed to our terms, then?” Shay didn’t dare let himself be hopeful that his uncle was gone from his life forever. Not yet.
Chase nodded. “He will withdraw all allegations he’s made against you, leave England, and never bother you again.” He popped a piece of sausage into his mouth as if punctuating his point. “And in return, you won’t have him hanged for the kidnapping and intended murder of a duchess and child.”
Shay finally let a grin of relief twist his lips. “Sounds like a fair trade to me.”
“Devlin sent along news for you, too. He and Lucien leveled a preemptive strike yesterday by speaking to the Committee on Privileges on your behalf.”
His grin turned into a grimace. “They shouldn’t have done that.”
“Oh yes, they should have,” Chase countered. “Sophie asked us to intervene, and we were more than happy to help you, the same way you’ve always helped us.”
The last thing Shay had wanted was for his friends to be publicly caught up in his problems. Yet he couldn’t fault Sophie for asking for their help. Or stop the swell of gratitude in his chest that they had.
“What did the Committee say?” he asked.
“They agreed that Malcolm’s allegations were unfounded,” Chase continued, “and they have no intention of taking any action against you. As far as they’re concerned, the title and all its properties has been settled upon its rightful heir.” Chase’s face softened. “Dartmoor and Crewe did the right thing in helping, Shay. They care about you as if you were a brother—we all do. It’s time you accept that and stop hiding from the world.”
A knot tightened in Shay’s throat. Chase was right. It was time he allowed himself to acknowledge their bond, just as he’d acknowledged his love for Sophie.
So he reached out a hand and laid it on Chase’s shoulder. The brief gesture spoke in volumes all that he could never adequately put to words.
From the way Chase nodded and looked away, yet not before a glistening appeared in his eyes, he knew it, too.
“I’ll be leaving London, then,” Chase told him as he grabbed up one last slice of ham and retreated toward the door. “Now that things are finished here, I need to return to my own home.”
And to my own ghosts waiting there. Chase didn’t utter the words, but they hung in the air as clearly as if he had, along with the unspoken grief, pain, and frustration that plagued him.
Shay knew not to press about that unexpected announcement. Of all four of the old friends, it was Chase who had suffered the most since returning from the wars. The fires of hell Shay had walked through were nothing compared to what Chase had been forced to endure. Although Shay would never dare utter it aloud, he still doubted that his friend would make it out the other side. How on earth did a man ever come to terms with the death of his son and his wife? John’s death and their mother’s absence had driven his own father into an early grave. Shay feared the same for Chase.
Yet he nodded and shook Chase’s hand. “Safe travels, my friend.”
Chase gave him a parting slap on the shoulder, then strode out of the room with a determination that belied the tumult of emotions that roiled inside him. And perhaps always would.
Saunders returned with a note card on a silver salver. He extended it toward Shay. “Your Grace. This just arrived from Malvern House.”
“Thank you.” He picked it up and cracked the wax seal. “Stay a moment in case I need to send a reply, will you?”
Saunders gave a curt nod and remained by the door.
Shay scanned his gaze over it. Last night, after returning to Granville House, he’d spent the evening writing out orders for Saunders to have Malvern House fully staffed and reopened. After all, he and Sophie would need a place of their own in London whenever they came to visit her father. A home. He wanted the property to become a refuge for them and the family they planned on having, its rooms filled with laughter, energy, and love, in a way they hadn’t been for decades. It would take time, but he and Sophie would have the rest of their lives to realize that dream.
Yet the message wasn’t at all what he’d expected. It wasn’t about Malvern House but from Pearson at Ravenscroft, and his chest sank bitterly at the news. Pearson had discovered who had been spying for Malcolm—Crenshaw, the assistant gardener whom MacHeath had assigned to work with Sophie, and Darla, the young housemaid who had assisted Sophie before Smithson arrived at the estate.
The news would devastate Sophie, even though both servants had given information to Malcolm only because they needed the money…Crenshaw, the gardener, for a child in Bakewell who had been born on the wrong side of the blanket but whom he had not abandoned responsibility for, and Darla, for her sick mother and sister who were unable to support themselves.
Shay crossed to the little writing desk and took a piece of paper from the drawer. He dabbed the quill in the ink pot and scratched out a reply instructing Pearson to release both from their positions. Immediately. But Pearson was also to provide letters of recommendation and to allow them to keep the remainder of their annual pay, which would help them and their families until they found new employment elsewhere.
He blotted the ink, carefully folded the letter, and sealed it. The two had been disloyal and could not be kept in employment at Ravenscroft, yet their reasons were justified. He wouldn’t punish them unduly for attempting to help the ones they loved. But until they found new positions, they could serve the dukedom by helping Malcolm vacate Halston House. Quickly.
“Have this sent to Ravenscroft Manor by special messenger,” Shay ordered as he gave the note to Saunders.
“Yes, Your Grace.” The butler nodded and scurried from the room.
In his haste, he nearly collided with Sophie, who was also hurrying down the hall. Distracted, she mumbled her apologies to the butler, but her distraught gaze fixed on Shay.
“What’s wrong?” It couldn’t be Malcolm. Not now. The man had been tossed from their lives forever. His mind took a dark turn. “Is it Granville?”
“Papa’s fine.” She struggled to find her voice. In her hand, she held a note and shoved it toward him. “It’s Cora.” Her bottom lip quivered. “She’s gone!”
He took her shoulders and placed a kiss to her forehead to calm her. “Isn’t she upstairs with Ruby?”
Sophie shook her head. “After I dressed, I went up to the nursery. The maid who watched Ruby last night said Cora had been in the nursery early, just after dawn, to play with Ruby and that she’d returned to her room for a nap. But when I went to wake her, she wasn’t there. She’s fled the house.” She pressed the note into his chest. “I found this on her pillow.”
Dread swelled inside him. He didn’t have to read it to know what it said. The stricken look on Sophie’s pale face told him everything.
“She doesn’t think she can provide the right kind of life for her daughter,” Sophie choked out, “and she’s left Ruby behind for us to raise.” Her watery eyes fixed on his. “She’s asked us not to look for her, to just let her go. She isn’t coming back.”
Shay nodded slowly and slipped his arms around her to draw her against him. “Then we’ll honor her wishes,” he said, resting his mouth against the top of her head, “and give her—and John’s—child a proper home. We’ll raise Ruby as if she’s our own.”
“And if Cora comes back?” she whispered.
“Then we welcome her into the family with open arms, for as long as she wants to stay.”
Sophie nodded, her cheek brushing against his shoulder. “There’s more.” She stepped back just far enough to reach into the pocket of her long pelisse and withdraw a folded piece of paper. “She also left this.”
Shay frowned as he unfolded the paper and read it. Cora’s handwriting filled the page with her testimony of what happened the night of the fire, how John died, how Shay had risked his own life to rush back into the barn to save his brother…and how Malcolm had kidnapped her daughter and Sophie in an attempt to force her into falsely testifying on his behalf. Her signature marked the bottom of the page.
What Cora had given them was more than just her witness statement. What she had given them was a weapon to use to stop Malcolm in the future if he ever dared breathe a word against them again. And a way to keep her child safe forever.
“It’s over now, all of it,” Sophie murmured softly as she stepped back into the protective circle of his arms, where she belonged and always would. “We’re finally free from the past.”
She rose up on tiptoe to meet his mouth as he lowered his head to kiss her.