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Chapter Twenty
Go to your bosom; knock there, and ask your heart what it dothknow.
—Shakespeare,Measure for Measure
Nicholas rose atfirst light, dressing quickly before Isaac burst through the door. Nicholas was not up to facing the man’s enthusiasm this morning. Or worse, his sympathy. Nicholas had slept for a few hours, then lay staring at the door, finally coming to a decision. Today he would face all demons, strip the past of deceit, and reveal the truth. It was far past time he behaved like a man and the future Earl of Woodfield Park.
He descended, one deliberate step at a time, counting them as he had when he’d been a child, when Daniel had blindfolded him for some foolish game they’d been playing.Daniel.Nicholas paused at the study and patted the packet in his jacket.I will hear you. I will listen. I will deal with it today. For better or for worse. Today.He turned the corner and headed down the narrow hall. The smell of fresh biscuits wafted, a scented path to one of his favorite destinations.
Nan was setting down a platter when he entered. He walked to the long trestle table and grabbed one, tossing it between his hands. It was definitely fresh from the oven.
Nan clucked, pushing a plate at him. He dropped the biscuit onto it.
“Sit, child, sit.” She grabbed some fruit preserve and set in on the table as he dropped to the bench.
He tore apart the soft bread and let it cool a moment before slathering it, sniffing it, and then savoring each bite. The strawberry jam was as familiar to his tongue as the bench was to his backside. He smiled as Nan placed a steaming cup of tea in front of him. She’d always been around, welcoming him into her domain, knowing his needs before he did. She sat down across from him, wrapping her hands around an old, chipped cup. It belonged to his mother’s set and should have long ago been tossed in the trash. Nan always said it brought her comfort, that it reminded her of the love that had once filled these halls.
“You are up and about early, my lord,” she said.
He’d gone from child to lord. He grinned. Nan had manners when she wanted to use them.
“I’m off to Stratton Hall to tend to some business.” Well, that was the truth. “I’ve got some ideas about increasing the flock, but we need more grazing land. Stratton has some fallow meadow. Thought he might be interested.” The bit about increasing the flock was truth too, but he’d no intention of discussing sheep this morning with anyone.
Nan lifted her cup and gazed fixedly at its contents. “I remember when you took an interest in the flock. You and Daniel were bird-witted with excitement about the ewes that were about to breed. The two of you would leave in the morning and go stare at the sheep, waiting.” She chuckled. “Came home disappointed each day ’cause it wasn’t happening fast enough. You were a lad of four if this old mind remembers rightly.”
She blew at the steaming brew, and he sugared his tea while waiting patiently for her to continue.
“One day you burst through the door, stumbling in with a bloodied, little lamb, crying for your old Nan.” She set the cup aside. “The herdsman was gonna kill the lamb ’cause it was black. The mark of the devil. Had to hold you and that slimy lamb both, just to calm you down some. Then you got angry. No way were you going to let that happen.”
He laughed at the memory. “And you asked me what I was going to do about it. Told me if I was going to save it, I better be prepared to take care of that black sheep, since no one else was going to.”
“And you did.” Her hand covered his. “You’ve always cared for those who could not defend themselves. Have always known that each life on this earth deserves a place to call home, to feel the warmth of acceptance, despite differences.”
He covered her gnarled hand, relishing the familiarity of each ridge. “Nan, you make me feel like a small boy again. It’s a good feeling. Thank you.” He gave a squeeze and then stood.
“Have a care, child. As you did when you were young. Everyone deserves to be accepted.”
He stared at her. Old Nan was never cryptic. Did she fear he would not embrace Catherine? Nan loved her as dearly as she did him. He kissed her on the cheek in assurance. Whatever the outcome of today’s revelations, he would always take care of Catherine. Nan should have no fear of that.
*
Nicholas stared atStratton Hall, the red sandstone fading to pink in the early-morning sun. Light glinted amber on the glass of the second-story window of the left wing. He could almost see Catherine standing there, waiting for him, anxious for their daily ride. All had been right in his world in those days.
The house seemed quiet. His knock on the door was the only sound he heard. He knocked again, and this time, he could hear movement beyond the threshold. He pulled at his jacket and adjusted his cuffs.
“My lord, it is good to see you,” Edwards said.
“And you, Edwards.” He stepped into the hall, glancing at the array of beasts displayed on the walls.
“Lord Stratton is in the study. I shall let him know you are here.”
“Thank you.”
The hall was Nicholas’s favorite room in the house; he had passed many hours here with Daniel and Laurence. They’d made some of these grooves in the well-worn table. He traced the etching of three swords, each with a set of initials on the handle—his, Daniel’s, and Laurence’s. The three musketeers. They’d thought they were invincible back then.
He strolled around the room, a cloud settling over the fond reminiscence. They had ceased being the three musketeers many years ago. About the time he’d discovered that spending time with Catherine was far more pleasurable. He stopped in front of the big buck. “I bet you know all her secrets, don’t you?”
“Nick! Good to see you. Come. Come. Share a cup of tea with a lonely, old man,” Stratton said.
