Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Hugh had spent two nights without Emma, and it had almost killed him. Stroud had come to Soho Square to take her statement and insisted on speaking to her alone, but that was not the true cause of their separation.
Her sister was alive, but the damage might be irreparable. And with Colworth in Newgate, Emma had taken responsibility for her nephew and the household.
There was no room for him.
Her letter had arrived at The Sentinel that morning, asking him to come. The first letter she’d sent him, all those weeks ago, had filled him with anticipation. This one filled him with dread.
“What is her prognosis?” He addressed Dr Nolan while watching Melinda sleep. Emma waited in the nursery with Tobias.
Dr Nolan stood beside Melinda’s bed, his spectacles in hand.
“When awake, she’s confused. She may improve over the coming weeks, though it’s too soon to know how complete her recovery will be.
She’s fortunate you arrived when you did.
Had she not emptied her stomach into the chamber pot, the outcome would have been very different. ”
“She’ll need care then.”
“For the present, certainly. And perhaps permanently.” Dr Nolan hesitated before adding, “I can recommend a private establishment if it comes to that. I’m not sure of the cost, but—”
“Money is no object.”
The doctor patted Hugh’s arm. It wasn’t patronising. Hugh could not remember the last time an older man had looked at him with approval. “Shall I explain it to Miss Vane?”
“No. I’ll explain it to her. If you could provide a contact name and address of the best establishment, we’d be grateful.”
He left Dr Nolan packing his instruments and crossed the corridor to the nursery. Emma stood at the window in a simple dress, her hair tied in a single braid, rocking Tobias in her arms.
She turned to him, and he noticed the tears in her eyes before her weak smile. “Thank you for coming.” She spoke as if he were there to sweep the chimney.
I’d do anything for you.
Anything but pressure her for a decision when she had too much to contend with already.
“I spoke to Dr Nolan.” He repeated what the doctor had told him. “I can visit the private hospitals and see which might be suitable. Hire a nurse in the interim.”
Anything, Emma, but don’t shut me out.
“I’d be most grateful.” She kissed the sleeping boy’s head, leaving tears on his brow.
The sight twisted his gut. “Don’t cry. She might yet make a recovery. New treatments are being discovered. The right physicians may help her.”
She gave an unladylike sniff. “I don’t mean to sound selfish, but that’s not why I’m crying.”
He took a hesitant step closer. “Is it the boy?”
Hell, the child was nine months old and already off to a poor start. He had yet to tell Emma that Viscount Wrenfield wanted them out of his house. That Tobias was disinherited.
She looked at Tobias and gave a rueful smile. “No. I will always care for him.”
He didn’t doubt it for a second. He knew what it felt like to be loved by her. “What, then?”
“Because I let myself imagine a life with you, and it was beautiful.” She wiped her eye with the heel of her palm. “Now I don’t know what remains of it.”
His heart gave one hard, painful beat. “You’ve changed your mind about marrying me?”
She blinked in surprise. “You’ve surely changed yours.”
“Why would you assume that?”
“Mr Saint-Clair said you don’t want children. If you don’t want your own, why would you want this one?”
He’d throttle Saint-Clair himself.
“Was my declaration unclear?” He closed the gap between them. “I’m in love with you, not your situation. Nothing would prevent me from marrying you.”
“I thought—”
“You thought wrong. Why the hell didn’t you send for me last night when they charged Thomas?” He reached for her, drawing her and Tobias to his chest. He kissed both their brows. “I paced the apartment for hours, not knowing what the devil to do.”
Her eyes met his. Fresh tears tracked down her cheeks. “What have I done to deserve you?”
He tightened his arms around them, kissed her mouth, her neck. And there it was. That warm, familiar scent that wasn’t some exotic perfume. It was her. Just her.
Tobias stirred, catching hold of the button on Hugh’s coat. “I’ve never seen fingers so small.” He brushed his thumb over the child’s knuckles.
“Whatever you do, don’t let him grab your hair.” There was laughter in her voice. “He has a vice-like grip.”
“I’ll try to remember, though I find myself hopelessly distracted by his aunt.”
She laid Tobias in his cradle and turned back to Hugh. He drew her into his arms, and the need to be inside her was almost too much.
“Was Mr Saint-Clair right? He doesn’t strike me as a man who would lie about something so important.”
Now that his pulse had settled, he understood why Saint-Clair had said it. “How can I give a child my name knowing the ridicule it may bring? I’ll never see a son of mine live at Stonefold.”
“Then teach him that a man is more than his name. Show him what courage and honour mean. You have both in abundance.”
He claimed her mouth because he had no defence against her faith in him. He answered with every move of his lips, with every slow glide of his tongue.
“Perhaps I should say it again.” She fanned her face with her hand. “Though you really shouldn’t kiss like that in the nursery.”
“Then you must teach me the etiquette. And in our next home, we’ll make sure our bedchamber is across the hall.”
Her smile wavered at the edges, as though tears were close. “You’ll take us both then?”
“I want you both.”
“Loving a child might teach you that your father left nothing of himself in you.”
“You taught me that. You’re the reason I’ll break every vow I’ve ever made.”
She touched his waistcoat, fiddled with a brass button. “We could live here for the time being. I shall visit Lord Wrenfield. Tobias will need—”
“Emma.”
Her eyes met his, and he’d rather suffer a night in a cupboard than tell her this. “Wrenfield has disowned Thomas and Tobias.”
She straightened, shaking her head. “You spoke to him?”
No. The lord hadn’t the courage to face him.
“I called at the house today.” When he’d felt lost and needed something useful to do. “He made me wait before his steward handed me a letter giving you notice on the house.”
She clasped a hand to her mouth. Tears rimmed her lower lashes as she looked at the sleeping boy. “But Tobias is his nephew. Every Colworth has attended Eton and Oxford.”
“The family won’t survive the scandal unless they cut all ties.” He knew what it was to be made to feel unwanted. People could be cruel. Life could be cruel. But Tobias would know he was loved at home. “Still, he could have provided for Tobias from his personal fortune.”
Emma stroked the child’s brow. “Will love be enough to save him? What more can we do than welcome him into our home?”
Our home. Home.
For the first time in his life, the word held no fear.
“We can be honest with him. Ensure he’s strong enough to weather every blow.” He knew exactly what sort of father he would be.
She practically threw herself into his arms. “I couldn’t be more in love with you if I tried.”
He kissed her hair, closing his eyes, letting the warmth of her spread through his body.
“Then we’ll have the banns read. I don’t want a licence that lets us slip quietly into marriage. I want our names read together where anyone may hear them.”
Her hand slipped around his neck, and she pulled his mouth to hers, the kiss so tender it eased the deepest ache.
“Then let them hear it. I want everyone to know I chose Hugh Stanton. That he had the sense to choose me. Without me drawing a pistol.”
They married on a Tuesday morning at St Anne’s, Soho. Rain lashed the pavements and bounced off Rowton’s wide-brimmed hat, but there was no thunder. Only Emma beside him, and the certainty that he belonged with her.
“Go,” Charlotte cried, waving them off as she held Tobias beneath the portico. “I’ll see you in Wimpole Street. Tell Braisby to pour the champagne.”
“We’re going, we’re going!” Emma hugged her posy to her chest and laughed.
Hugh nodded to Hawke and Montfort, then caught his wife’s hand and hurried towards the carriage.
She stopped and glanced at Rowton. “Still no sign of that tricorn? I feel like you’re punishing me on purpose.”
Rowton grinned. “Happen this hat is a better fit. Though I’m glad you kept your oath.”
“It sounds like you were testing me.”
“Make of it what you will, Mrs Stanton.”
She chuckled. “I might ask you to repeat that.”
He doffed his hat. “And I’d be happy to oblige.”
Hugh opened the carriage door. “Get inside, woman, before you ruin your new gown.”
“Just a moment.” Emma lifted her face heavenward, laughing as she caught raindrops on her tongue. “My mother would have danced in the street, but I can’t risk spending the night in Bedlam.”
He could have watched her laugh in the rain all morning. She had shed too many tears since Melinda recovered and left for Bath to start a new life without Tobias.
“There’ll be dancing later. Get inside before Rowton complains about wet seats.”
Smiling at the memory of them kissing in a puddle, he bundled her inside and shut the door behind them.
“Rain can be cathartic, don’t you think?” She accepted his proffered handkerchief and wiped her cheeks and brow.
He watched her dab the curve of her throat and her jaw. “Maybe we should draw the blinds and take a turn around the park.”
“Only one turn?” she said, arching a brow.
“Maybe three.”
“It wouldn’t do for us to be an hour late for our own wedding breakfast. And Charlotte has gone to an awful lot of trouble.”
Charlotte had thrown herself into the arrangements as though she needed the distraction. “She’s been a good friend these last few weeks.”
“Did you see Mr Stroud looking at her in church?” she asked.
“I spent too much time looking at you.”
“Then we must ask Daphne for an extra lamp in the marquee. I imagine you’ll want to inspect every inch tonight.”
“I intend to do more than inspect.”
Shadowmere could not come soon enough.