Page 29 of Lord of the Lost

Chapter Eleven

Late September 1816

Autumn had replaced summer, which had been colder than usual, but the days were still a little warm, and the rain had eased of late. In the enclosed, well sheltered pleasure garden at Grimstoke Castle, Mona sat beside Devlin and looked upon the red, yellow, and orange flowers which shone in the flowerbeds like fallen rainbows. The gardens were spectacular, because, since that morning when Devlin had decided that he wished to employ and assist the families of fallen soldiers, they had added to the Castle staff. There was now a veritable army of gardeners, maids, footmen, grooms, and the like, who were transforming the Castle from its previously rather grim appearance to something far brighter and more beautiful.

A footman poured iced and sugared lemon water as Gabrielle and Devlin’s mother watched. Mona did not overly mind heat, however today, like the rest of this summer, could not really be described as hot, but at least it was still, and the sun was warm on her skin.

Farther along the garden, at the foot of the half crumbled stone wall which held a gate out into the copse of nearby trees, a rabbit hopped out, sniffed the lush bright green grass, then hopped to and fro.

Devlin watched the rabbit with interest. When it retreated through the gate and into the trees he turned to Mona and looked down at her body, which had not yet started to bulge.

“Do you think he will like rabbits?”

It was asked with a small smile.

“I suppose we shall have to wait to know,” Mona said. “She might like squirrels, instead.”

He rolled his eyes and Mona grinned. This was a little game they liked to play. One would refer to the baby as a boy and the other would refer to her as a girl. In truth, Mona hoped it was a boy, as did Devlin, most likely. An heir would always be preferred, of course. But if the child was a girl they would love her all the same.

Presently a footman emerged who announced that Lady Eldwood and Lord Eldwood had arrived. Mona’s mother walked slowly in and looked at the flowerbeds with a faraway look, a look which saddened Mona. Her mother had been forgetful of late, and had on more than one occasion referred to Roland by their father’s name, and Mona feared that she would, like her own mother before her, suffer the debilities of age far sooner than many people did.

She was, really, not all that old, yet more and more, she seemed so. It was sad, but Mona knew that there was nothing she could do to change it. At least there would be a grandchild, whilst Mona’s mother could still enjoy the child.

Mona waved for the footman to help her mother to a comfortable chair under a parasol.

Roland seated himself beside Devlin, but one could not mistake the looks he frequently gave Gabrielle. Nor could one mistake the looks that Gabrielle gave him in return.

Mona wondered what the future would hold for the people who surrounded her, for her family. But she knew that, right now, the future did not matter as much as sitting here in the sun and enjoying the simple pleasures of life.

Devlin had that glassed-over, distant look less and less lately, and had even taken to sleeping in her bed quite regularly. When he woke in the night, covered with sweat, sometimes screaming, Mona would dab his forehead with a towel and whisper to him – ‘You are home, you are safe. You do not need to fear, my love. All that is over now. You are Devlin Vickery, Duke of Grimstoke, and you do not need to worry. You are surrounded by people who love you and the war is over’.

With these words, she lulled him back to sleep each time it happened.

Then, on those nights, she would watch him for a time, until he began to snore, and then cuddle in next to him. She had come to see that men like her husband – men who had seen and done the things he had seen and done – would never truly be cured, but their ailments could be alleviated and their love could be freed from the grey despair which had once filled them.

Devlin, she felt, loved her now, truly loved her.

The light warmth of the afternoon sun brought her attention back to the present, and she felt Devlin’s gaze on her and turned.

There he was, watching her. His eyes were twin lights that seemed brighter than the sun for a moment, burning into her with the intensity of his love.

She longed to throw herself into his lap and kiss him and, and — do other things with him.

He is my love, and we will grow, grow, together, like a sapling which against all odds reaches through the foliage and finds sunlight and becomes a great tree.

“I find it most interesting,” Roland was saying, as he nodded.

At first Mona was puzzled by his words until, by listening, she realised that he and Gabrielle were discussing the variants of flowers in the garden. Mona knew full well that Roland was not in the least interested in flowers, but this did not seem to hinder his enthusiasm for the conversation.

Was there anything wrong with that?

Love, she thought, was as varied as people. Her and Devlin’s love was as varied and fluid as she and Devlin were. They had loved as friends when they were children. Now they loved as husband and wife as adults. One day, they would love as souls eternally…

But none of that mattered on this bright day, with family gathered around her, in the pleasure garden at Grimstoke Castle.

~~~~~

December 1816