Julia Justiss (30 page)

She could understand better now why, in defiance of the law, Gavin had invested such effort and treasure in freeing the woman he loved. Why her mother had risked everything to return to the man she’d never stopped loving. And though Helena took care to keep her damaged hand hidden, having sworn never to grieve her father further by having him discover just how much she had suffered from Lambarth’s cruelty, she supposed she could not fully comprehend their devastation at being parted from their daughter until she had a child of her own.

A possibility that did not now look very likely. Perhaps, braced by the love of her family, she would eventually recover some enjoyment in life. But she couldn’t imagine ever wishing to marry—ever allowing another man to touch her as Adam had. Ever wanting to caress another as she had pleasured him.

By now Charis should be married and returned to Vienna with Lord Blanchard. Perhaps Adam and Priscilla had set their own wedding date. “Oh, my love,”
she whispered, the tears welling up, “may you be happy in spite of her!”

It seemed, she thought impatiently, dashing away the tears, that she did little now but weep. Perhaps it was the heat, she mused, fanning herself harder.

Her grandmother, knowing there was little she could do, offered companionship. But often Helena preferred to be alone, walking in the garden of exotic flowers her mother had created or riding the mare that had been her mother’s favorite at the small breeding farm she’d established here.

Her father urged her to remain and run the farm with him. She hadn’t yet decided whether to do so.

Thinking of that possibility, her spirits lifted slightly. Gavin Seagrave had offered his daughter’s companions the same warm hospitality he had extended to Helena. Noticing how frequently Dickon turned up at the stables—and probably knowing better than anyone that an active boy needed occupation to keep him out of mischief—her father instructed the head groom to teach Dickon to ride. Observing the lad’s first lesson, Gavin pronounced him a natural horseman, assigned him to be the head groom’s assistant, and promised if he worked hard, Dickon might one day become the farm’s manager. The boy now accorded Gavin the worshipful respect he had previously offered Harrison.

Nell, too, had told Helena several times how much she loved the beautiful island, its sunny warmth and hospitable people. Though Helena suspected that her father’s handsome young secretary, whose attention Nell had attracted the day of their arrival, was the main reason
behind her companion’s delight in her new circumstances.

Since her grandmother was, of course, thrilled to be reunited with her son, Helena often felt she was the sole island of misery in the sea of gladness surrounding her.

Restless, she rose to pace the garden path. Her mother’s touch was evident in the design of the beds with their fragrant displays of Diana’s favorite white and yellow flowers. There was even a tiny maze, reminding Helena of the trip Adam had proposed to Hampton Court.

Her breathing stuttered and pain twisted in the hollow of her chest.
Please, Mama,
she silently implored the presence she felt so strongly in this place.
You lived for years without Papa before you were reunited. Teach me how to survive without the man I love.

As if her thoughts had conjured her father, she looked up to see him approaching. She went to meet him, laying her head against his chest as he drew her close for a hug.

“I’m sorry to be such a poor-spirited guest, Papa.”

Tucking her hand under his arm, he strolled with her. “You’re not a guest, sweeting—you’re the joy of my heart. I only wish I could help you recapture some joy in yours.”

Looking up at his face, one brow arched in an expression she recognized as so like her own, she read compassion and understanding. Grandmama must have told him what had transpired in London. Unable to restrain herself, she asked, “How did you endure the
years you and Mama were separated? Though I suppose, being a man, you had tasks and adventures to distract you.”

He laughed softly. “Oh, I had adventures aplenty—but the ache of missing your mother was always here—” he tapped his chest “—deep within. I can tell you one thing not to do. Don’t spend your days repining or regretting any mistakes you may have committed. ’Tis the love you cherish that makes life worth living. Hold fast to it.”

“What if that love is no longer possible…like for you now, with Mama gone?”

“Losing her was a blow from which I suffer every day. But all that we shared lives on in my heart. One day we will be together again. And though it is natural when one has suffered terrible pain to try to wall oneself off, let me assure you that the joy you gain from loving someone is always worth the cost. Trust that joy, sweeting.”

Tears stung Helena’s eyes. But before she could thank her father for giving her a measure of solace, the garden gate clanged open and Dickon came toward them at a run. “Mr. Seagrave!” he called. “Mr. Wittington done sent me to fetch you. Gray Star’s foal be a’ coming!”

“Then we’d better go help it be born, eh, my lad? Go tell Wittington I’m on my way.” While Dickon sped off, Gavin turned to Helena. “Will you come, too?”

Helena shook her head. “I’ll remain here a while longer. Perhaps I shall ride later.”

“Don’t stay out too long. The sun in the tropics is very strong. You’re not used to it yet.”

“I’ll remember. Thank you for talking with me, Papa. I hope someday I may be as wise.”

Gavin grinned as he kissed her forehead. “It took a great deal of bad living to accumulate what wisdom I possess—an experience I would spare you! Until later, my dear.”

Helena watched as, whistling, her father strode out the gate and headed down the lane that led to the stables. She took a seat on one of the garden benches, but after a time her restlessness returned.

Despite the steadily increasing heat, perhaps she’d ride. A good hard gallop always helped clear her mind.

She was walking toward the gate when a man approached down the lane from the east, a black silhouette against the blaze of morning sun. Not wishing for company, she was about to retreat out of sight when something about his stride, the way he carried himself, seized her attention.

Her breath caught in her throat. But no, the hot Caribbean sun must be making her hallucinate. ’Twas only her grief and her disordered spirits that had turned that featureless silhouette into the image of Adam Darnell. Who was halfway around the globe in London, perhaps already married to Priscilla Standish.

Despite that certainty, she turned her back to the gate, cursing herself for her idiocy in being unable to watch the man walk by and prove the impression false. So preoccupied was she in berating herself that she jumped when a hand was laid on her shoulder.

“I had thought after traveling so many miles, I would at least get a hello.”

She whirled to face him. “A-Adam?” She shook her head, but the face that materialized before her still appeared to be his, so impossibly dear her heart lurched.

“Adam,” she repeated, reaching out to touch his cheek. Papa had just warned her about staying outdoors too long. But with a delusion this wonderful, she didn’t mind becoming delirious.

“Yes, Adam, my sweet,” he said, laughing. “Ah, Helena, Helena, how I’ve longed for you!”

Her hallucination kept getting better, for now he was embracing her. She could even smell, over the aroma of frangipani, the spicy scent of his shaving soap.

“Kiss me!” she murmured, determined, before they incarcerated her in a dark room with a cold cloth on her forehead, that she would eke every last drop of pleasure from this fantasy. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled his mouth to hers.

Ah, it was just as she remembered—the taste of him, the delight spiraling outward from the teasing dance of tongues. She molded herself to him, surprised to discover that a fantasy could have an erection.

After a moment, he broke the kiss. “My dear, unless you wish to cause another scandal in this garden, you must cease kissing me like that. A long-deprived man can only resist so much.”

She stared up into those familiar green eyes, lit with amusement and a deeper heat. “Adam?” she whispered. “It…really is you? But how?”

Taking her arm, he walked her to a bench. “I ought
to wring your neck, hellion! I told you to do nothing rash, and less than a day later I find you’ve run off to the colonies without even a by-your-leave! Before I could tell you Priscilla and I had terminated our engagement. Before I could declare that the only woman I want is the utterly captivating lady I love—you, my darling.”

“You…love me?” she repeated, not sure she could have heard him correctly.

“Completely. I was hoping you had become rather fond of me, as well—if your behavior the last night we spent together was any indication.”

“You want me for your mistress after all?”

His teasing expression sobered. “For my mistress—and so much more! Though I know you haven’t much liking for wedlock, what I truly want is for you to marry me.”

Twining his fingers in her hair, he pulled her to him and brushed his lips against hers again, this time gently, reverently, as if she were a priceless treasure that must be treated with infinite care. “My dearest Helena, can you trust me that much? Will you grant me a lifetime to demonstrate how precious you are to me?”

He loved her…she was precious to him. His wonderful, unbelievable words filled up the empty, aching spot in her heart until she felt it must overflow with happiness.

Trust in joy,
Papa had told her.

“Yes, Adam, I will marry you.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “You will?”

“Yes. Oh, Adam, I love you so much!”

With a crow of triumph, he picked her up and swung her around and around. “Marvelous! Bellemere and Charis will be thrilled! Before I left, Charis told me it had become her fondest hope that we would fall in love.” Setting her down again, he continued, “I’m humbled by your faith in me, despite all you’ve experienced.”

Twining her fingers with his, she said earnestly, “After being with Papa—my real Papa—I’ve come to realize it is not marriage itself, but the character and commitment of the two people who enter into it that make the difference between happiness and misery. I trust you never to misuse the power the law grants a husband. And I can imagine nothing more wonderful than spending my life with you. But…are you sure you want to marry me? You know how lacking I am in the many skills needed in a wife.”

“You possess all the qualities that matter most to me. Courage. Integrity. Compassion. And,” Adam added as he kissed their joined fingers, “the power to drive me mad with just a touch.”

Though she felt a giddy pleasure at his tribute, still she said anxiously, “But what of the scandal, Adam? I wouldn’t want you to be ostracized by your peers.”

“By the time we return, there will have been a dozen new scandals to overshadow it. The people I care about will always value us. Like Dix, who sent his blessing when I told him I was coming after you. In any event, if it suits you, we shall live mainly at Claygate…when we are not crossing the ocean to show off our children to their grandfather.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Rapscallion little boys like Gavin Seagrave and adventuresome, unconventional little girls like…” His enthusiasm abruptly cooling, he added, “That is, you do want children, don’t you, my darling? I know that your own childhood was hardly—”

She raised a finger to still his lips. “I do want children, very much. I had a mother whose love sustained me through ten years of exile and torment. And
my
children will be nurtured by a father whose love and compassion will never fail them. Which reminds me, the single greatest blessing of this last fortnight has been getting to know Papa. I can’t wait for you to meet him, Adam! He’s a wonderful man.”

“He must be—to have produced so remarkable a daughter. Please, take me to him at once so I may ask for your hand. You will marry me immediately, won’t you, my only love? Along with the good wishes of Charis and your aunt, I brought a special license with me, just in case.”

“Then we can marry here, in my mother’s garden?” Where her parents, after separation and heartache, had finally found happiness together. As she and Adam would.

“As soon as I can find a priest. Today, I hope. I can hardly wait to begin our life together—and for another demonstration of your wifely skills,” he said with a wink.

The joy and passion in his eyes sparked an answering fire in her that, after the desolation of the past month, was simply too exhilarating to be denied. “At
the moment, Papa is preoccupied with a mare in foal. And it’s been so long—” she drew him toward the secluded shade of a great flamboyant tree “—I fear my ‘wifely skills’ may need refreshing. Before you go looking for Papa, perhaps we should…practice.”

Wrapping his arms around her, he murmured, “I shall never get enough of practicing—even outdoors in a flower garden, my dearest, darling, untamed bride.”