“Georgia,” he said, lifting his head and looking down at her, his breath coming fast. “Georgia.” His hands cradled her face, his thumbs stroking the line of her jaw. “There’s so much—I don’t even know where to begin. And I don’t even know how you will feel about what I want to tell you.”
“Nicholas …” she whispered, alarmed by the anxious expression in his eyes. “What is it? Please, just say it, whatever it is.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
He looked down at the ground for a moment.
“Nicholas, surely it can’t be anything too terrible? Whatever it is, we can deal with it. We’ve dealt with everything else, haven’t we?”
He looked back at her. “It’s not quite the same sort of thing. Georgia … when we married, it was out of necessity. We both understood exactly what the other had to offer—well, perhaps not exactly, but that’s beside the point. The point is, everything has changed. I never expected it, but there it is, and I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“What are you saying?” she asked nervously, for she had never seen him so rattled. “Please tell me, Nicholas, for my mind is racing to all sorts of dreadful conclusions.”
“No—it’s nothing dreadful, sweetheart, or at least I hope it isn’t. Actually, it’s quite simple.” He took a deep breath. “I love you.’’
Georgia’s heart tightened in her chest. Here was a man so strong, so brave, and yet so vulnerable that he found it difficult to speak of his feelings. And yet he had shown her in every other way. “Nicholas,” she said softly. “I love you too, with all my heart.”
“You do?” he said, sounding surprised. “Are you quite sure?”
“Very sure. It seems as if I have known it for always, but I only realized when it was too late to tell you, and I was so afraid I would never have the chance.”
His eyes closed for one brief moment. “I’m glad you told me now. I’m very glad. I’ve waited a long time to hear it.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know how you felt either, not until the night of the shipwreck.”
“Why then?” he asked, frowning. “Of all times, why then?”
“You were so angry with me. I know now it was because you were frightened for me. It was also in the way you kissed me and held me. And then I had nothing but regret for having let you go without at least telling you that you went with my heart. And afterward, when you were so still and cold and I was desperate about you, Binkley pointed out to me that you had no idea of my feelings for you. I felt like a fool.”
“Georgia,” he said hoarsely, drawing her against him and resting his cheek on her head. “Sweetheart. We’ve both been foolish. But I can only thank God that he sent you to me, and I am exceedingly grateful for what we have. Five months ago I had nothing. Today I have a wife I love to distraction, a little boy named Pascal, whom I’m sure I will come to love, a half-restored house, and a garden.”
“And Binkley,” she added. “You mustn’t leave out Binkley.”
Nicholas smiled and kissed her forehead. “How could I leave out the inestimable Binkley? You are absolutely right. And speaking of Binkley, do you think he’s up yet? I’m famished.”
“I very much doubt it, and you will not wake him. I’ll make you breakfast myself.”
They walked back and Georgia showed Nicholas where Cyril had been working on the wall, and the progress he’d made. And then she sat him down in the kitchen and made him an enormous breakfast of scrambled eggs and kidney and toast and last night’s ham.
As she cooked, he watched her, his chin in his hand. “Do you know, I never did get my side of beef,” he said.
She looked over her shoulder. “You didn’t, did you? I am sorry, for I know how you were looking forward to it. Actually, Binkley fed it to the men that same night.”
Nicholas groaned. “Gone in a puff of smoke.”
“What was gone in a puff of smoke, monsieur?” Pascal asked, padding into the kitchen and sitting himself down at the table.
“My side of beef, Pascal. But never mind, for it is too complicated to explain. Good morning, my fine friend. And how are you?”
“I am happy to see you so. Madame said you had much happiness inside of you, and today I see it shining in your eyes. You are no longer sad?”
“I am no longer sad,” he agreed. “And you, Pascal? You are not sad?”
“I was sad, it is true, monsieur. When my parents died I was very sad, and I had no home. And then I was put on the ship to work, and I did not much like that, although it was better than the orphanage. And there was the storm, of course, and that was not nice at all. But now I have a true home and true friends. And as you are better now, monsieur, how can I find anything to feel sad about?”
Nicholas looked at him thoughtfully. “You are happy here?” he asked gently.
“But yes, monsieur. Very happy. But you are now regarding me with great seriousness. You want to send me away, perhaps?”
“No, Pascal. I most certainly do not. Georgia has told me that she has asked you to live with us permanently. I only wanted to hear from you that this is what you want, to have us as your family.”
“Oh, yes, monsieur. Oh, yes, this is what I want! All that I want. I will work very hard to pay my way.”
Nicholas laughed. “Now you are sounding exactly like Georgia. It makes me wonder if there’s not something about me that appears mercenary. You need not pay your way, Pascal. Believe me, there is no need to consider it.”
“It is very good of you to take me in, monsieur. I shall try hard not to disappoint you.”
“And I shall try very hard not to disappoint you, Pascal,” Nicholas said gravely.
This statement had the effect of sending Pascal into gales of laughter. Georgia put two heaping plates of food in front of them, along with steaming mugs of tea, then sat down to join them. They ate and talked and laughed, and as Georgia cleared up, she had the happy feeling that Nicholas had just been indoctrinated into his new family.
“Good morning, madam, sir, young Pascal,” Binkley said, entering the kitchen not much later. He did not so much as blink an eye to see the three of them sitting around the table.
“Ah, Binkley—just the man I wished to see,” Nicholas said, throwing down his napkin. “If you’ll excuse me, Georgia, I have business with Binkley. Come along, Binkley. We have important matters to discuss.”
“Certainly, sir,” Binkley said, untying the apron he had just put on. “Lily will be back shortly from her night off, madam. Is there anything you desire before then?”
“No, thank you, Binkley. You had better go with my husband before he drags you away. I fear his energy has returned in full force. Come along, Pascal. We might as well get started on the garden. What do you suppose the surprise is that Cyril is bringing over today?’’
“It is furniture, madame. It is for the monsieur’s room.”
Georgia gave him a sharp look. “Really? That’s interesting. How did that come about, I wonder?”
“I became very angry with Cyril this week after the monsieur became well.”
“Yes? And then?”
“And then I told him he was selfish. And I told him that I had heard Monsieur Binkley saying that there were things in Cyril’s grand house that belonged to the monsieur, and it would be nice to have them back in their rightful place. I said that it was not right for Cyril to have so much and the monsieur to have nothing, and that Cyril could help to make it correct, now that he knew the truth. I told him that I had great respect for his fairness. And then there was the fact that Cyril has worked hard on the new room for the monsieur. It is no good for it to stand almost empty after all of that.”
“You’re a clever little devil, aren’t you, Pascal?”
Pascal looked very pleased. “You think so, madame? This is good. And does not the monsieur look wonderful today? Full of life and merriment. And he is very kind to allow me to stay. It should have broken my heart to have to leave him. Here, madame, look! There are buds on the rosebushes…”
Nicholas sat Binkley down, despite the fine man’s protests. “Binkley, be sensible,” Nicholas said impatiently. “I have a campaign to plan, and I cannot crane my head up and around just to suit you whilst I do it.”
“You seem to be restored to your old spirits, sir,” Binkley said, carefully perching himself on the edge of the chair. “And may I ask what the campaign consists of?”
“In the first particular, I intend this night to be my proper wedding night. I would like for you to arrange the details—every last glorious detail to set the scene, and I leave it entirely up to you, for I trust your exquisite sense of scenario implicitly. I want to be hampered by nothing. Second, I am now prepared to tackle my business affairs, for my mind feels fully clear. Bring me my boxes, Binkley, and let me embark.”
“Certainly, sir. As you wish. All other matters will be managed quite discreetly, for I feel it is important that nothing feels alarmingly different to Mrs. Daventry. One does not wish to frighten the newly tamed bird from the hand.”
Nicholas gave him a look of slight disbelief. “I realize I have only recently returned to my senses, Binkley,” he said, “but I have not lost all my power of reason. Now, let us begin where we left off. My boxes. And I will take my luncheon in here, for I do not want to be interrupted.”
“Very good, sir,” Binkley said, bowing and looking mightily pleased with the return of his crusty employer.
Nicholas worked away the morning and afternoon mysteriously closeted away in the sitting room, and Georgia used the opportunity to put the finishing touches on Nicholas’ new bedroom. Cyril had indeed seen to the delivery from Ravenswalk of a bureau, a mattress, and a sofa and chairs. He then helped Georgia hang the draperies, and Pascal helped Lily make the bed and clean up the last of the dust. Binkley moved clothes into the wardrobe. It was a great moment when they were finished. The wood on the four-poster bed gleamed, the bureau sat in its proper place against the wall. The sofa, table, and chairs had been arranged in front of the fireplace. There were rugs on the floor, and the place where Nicholas had once gone crashing through looked as good as new.
“It’s p-perfect,” Cyril said, looking around in satisfaction.
“It is perfect,” Georgia said, her hands on her hips.
“Magnifique,”
Pascal added proudly. “The monsieur will be very pleased.
“Indeed, it is quite suitable,” Binkley pronounced, and Lily giggled.
“Fit for a king is more like it,” she said. “Fit for a king.”
“When are you going to tell him, madame?” Pascal asked breathlessly.
“If none of you has any objection, I’m not going to say a word. I’m going to surprise him at bedtime.”
“A very good idea, madam,” Binkley said, looking extremely satisfied and rather pink in the cheeks, Georgia thought. “You could not have picked a better time. Lily and I are preparing a celebratory dinner of a selection of the master’s favorite foods, now that he is well enough to sit downstairs.”
“Surely not a side of beef?” Georgia asked with a laugh.
“Yes, madam. A particularly fine side of beef, provided by the butcher, who would accept no payment. I also have a bottle of Mr. Daventry’s favorite burgundy. A nice long sleep this afternoon should find him in excellent form.”
“And, Pascal,” Cyril said, “I thought you and I might spend the night at Ravenswalk. I would l-like to teach you billiards.” He gave Binkley a sidelong glance, and Binkley nodded approvingly.
“Ravenswalk? I would like very much to see this grand house you have told me of.
Merci,
Cyril. If it is correct with you, madame?”
“What? Oh, yes, of course. Whatever you like, Pascal. It’s very kind, Cyril. Now, we should all be out of here before Nicholas comes up and finds us. Thank you. I thank all of you so much for helping.”
“The hip bath is in Pascal’s bedroom, missus,” Lily said. “The water should be ready by now.”
“The hip bath?” Georgia said, mystified. “But it’s not Saturday.”
“No, missus, but Mr. Daventry has requested a bath later, and so it seems only sensible to use it while it’s up here. If you’re going to have a nice dinner and all, you might as well feel all rosy-like.”
Cyril turned away with a laugh.
“That is most thoughtful, Lily,” Georgia said. “I would appreciate a nice bath, although I hate for you to go to the trouble.”
“No trouble, miss. Martin will help me carry up the buckets, and the boys will too. Won’t you, boys?”
“Absolutely,” Cyril said. “And then Pascal and I must be off before d-dark. Come along, Pascal. Let us start hauling w-water.”
“Why is it I feel there is some sort of conspiracy afoot?” Georgia asked suspiciously.
“No conspiracy in the least, madam,” Binkley said blithely. “We have merely had a discussion amongst ourselves and decided that you have worked and worried overly hard since the unfortunate incident, and you need a touch of pampering, as does Mr. Daventry. And so we thought we would see to an enjoyable evening for both of you, with nothing more strenuous than each other’s company.’’
“Oh, I see. And you are very considerate indeed,” Georgia said. “Really, I do appreciate your concern. But there is no need—”
“M-must you always argue, Georgia?” Cyril said, sounding exactly like his cousin. “Why can’t you l-let people do something nice for you for once? Now, do as you’re told and prepare for your b-bath.”
Georgia laughed. “Oh, very well. If you insist on overworking yourselves on my behalf, who am I to argue?”
They all looked very pleased, and Georgia went off to oblige them.
“Cyril …” Pascal, who had been hopping with excitement, stopped dead in his tracks as they broke out of the woods and the first sight of Ravenswalk came into view. “But this is a house of the greatest magnificence! It is the finest house I have ever, ever seen! Oh, my. But since you are a lord, it is only right, is it not?”
“It’s not m-mine yet. It belongs to my f-father,” Cyril said, his voice heavy with bitterness.
“Yes, I know this. And you should not sound like this about your father, for you are fortunate to have one at all. It is a pity he is not well, but perhaps he will recover as the monsieur did.”
“Hardly likely,” Cyril said darkly. “The best thing he could do would be to d-die.”