The Romany Heiress (25 page)

“A nativity scene, a manger scene.”

“Yes. I remember seeing one in a church.” Cate took
out a carved wise man wearing brilliant robes of blue
and gold. “I don’t think I have seen anything so lovely.”
She was about to ask why such a lovely, valuable thing
was not kept on display at the abbey where it could be safeguarded but she already knew the answer. Putting
this out on display for all to enjoy over the twelve days
of Christmas was Spelthorne’s gift to its people. This
didn’t belong to one man but to all of them, perhaps as
much a part of Spelthorne’s legacy as the land itself.
Giles would never keep such a thing to himself.

They set the nativity up on the altar, carefully arranging all the pieces to their best advantage, talking a
little as they did so.

“Did you never go to church on Christmas, Cate?”
Giles asked hesitantly, setting up a cluster of sheep
near the shepherds.

“No. No one wants gypsies in church,” she said candidly. “Christmas was a lonely holiday for us. We had a
little celebration of our own, perhaps eating meat or
some extra ration of food to commemorate the day. It
was a hard day in the heart of winter.”

“I’m sorry,” Giles offered quietly. “I didn’t mean to
pry or to bring up painful memories.” There was an
awkward pause. “Do you blame me for it?”

The question took her off-guard. “What do you
mean?”

“Do you resent me because your life was so difficult?” The strong man who had sawed through the yule
log, who’d effortlessly organized the activities of the
day without error seemed momentarily vulnerable in
the candlelight as he asked his question. “I have often
wondered if you hold me to blame.”

She shook her head. “No. None of that was a coil of
your making. You were simply involved through no knowledge or choice of your own. I do not resent you”
She reached out a hand to stroke his handsome face.
She wanted to dare more. In this moment it felt right to
say the words “I love you,” to let him know that she saw
only the future when she thought of him, not the tumultuous past which had dealt unfairly with them both. But
she could not bring the words to her lips so they stayed
silent in her heart, giving way to the caution that said
“not yet, not yet”

The night had been a splendid mixture of the boisterous and serene. The abbey had been filled with merrymakers drinking Bishop and Purl and eating roasted
turkey from the groaning table in the dining room. Near
midnight, she and Giles led a peaceful candlelight procession down to the chapel for Christmas services, then
caroled softly on the late walk home amid delicately
falling snowflakes.

Tucked away in the privacy of their chambers, they
took a moment’s peace to sip a final mug of Bishop and
enjoy the quiet by the fire. Giles produced a small,
square, blue velvet box. “I had thought to wait until tomorrow, but this seems like the right moment to give
you this.”

Cate took the soft case, caressing the velvet. “It’s a
lovely box. Thank you” She would find something special to put in this box. “I have something for you too”
She rose but Giles stayed her with a gentle gesture.

“Wait. Open the box. There’s something inside it.”

“Oh” She sat back down, feeling slightly foolish. The box was lavish enough to be a gift by itself. She opened
the lid and found herself speechless. Bedded on blue
satin that matched the velvet lay a single strand of pearls,
all the same size and flawlessly white. “Oh, Giles, they’re
beautiful. This is a magnificent gift,” she said in awe.

“Let me help you put them on” Giles came to her
side and lifted the pearls from their bed. Deftly he
slipped open the clasp and placed the necklace about
her neck. She could feel them laying lightly against her
skin. She lifted a finger to fondle them. “I’ve never
worn anything so splendid.”

“You’ll wear all sorts of jewels in London,” Giles
said. “The Spelthorne vaults are there with the family
jewels. I thought you might like something simpler to
wear for every day while you’re here”

Cate laughed nervously. “I can hardly imagine pearls
being simple everyday jewels.”

Giles covered her hand with his. “They look well on
you, but anything would. You’re a beautiful woman, Cate,
no matter what you wear. I was proud to have you by my
side today and tonight,” he said quietly with such sincerity that she could not doubt the truth of what he spoke.

She cast her eyes down, undone by the compliment.
“I hope you will be proud in London. I do not think
London will be as easily conquered as Spelthorne.
Everyone here has been so accepting, so kind. I do not
think London will be as willing to embrace me”

Giles stroked the back of her hand. “Why wouldn’t
London fall in love with you as the people of Spelthorne
have? As I have?”

She looked up at that. They had never mentioned
love, but the expression in his eyes suggested he meant
every word. “You’ve fallen in love with me?”

She was rewarded with a blush from Giles. He looked
away briefly. Was this self-confident man who effortlessly mastered crowds embarrassed by a single woman?
She could hardly believe it could be so until she thought
of her own reticence in the chapel earlier.

He gave a small self-deprecating chuckle and continued to stare into the fire. “I have long thought that I was
above voicing such sentimental drivel but apparently I
am not” He cocked his head to catch a sideways glance
of her. She offered an encouraging smile, urging him to
continue, letting him know his sentiments were safe
with her.

“When I look back, I think I began loving you the
moment I saw you at the Denbigh’s party. I feel like an
infatuated school boy for saying it.”

“We hardly talked except for business!” she exclaimed.

Giles shrugged. “I remember every moment. We sat
on a low bench by the gate in the cold winter shrubbery.
You held my hand and promised me a grand passion. I
wished at the time that the grand passion would be
you” He adjusted his position to face her squarely now,
crouching on his haunches. He dropped his voice, and
Cate leaned forward to listen. “I often regret not following my heart that night.”

She held her breath, her eyes not daring to leave his
blue gaze. His eyes smouldered now, desire coming to life as he made his confession. His hand drifted up to
her hair and he continued his seduction, slowly plucking out the pins from her coiffure as he spoke.

“That night, I wanted to run my hands through your
hair. It looked to me like silk. I find now that my impression was right.” The feel of his hands combing
through her hair, letting its length sift through his hands
was intoxicating. “I wanted to know you” He drew his
thumb lightly across her lips. “You seemed to me the
epitome of goodness and perhaps freedom, a freedom I
wanted for myself. I thought with you, I could be free”

“And are you?”

Giles buried his head in her lap. “Absolutely. Can
you not see how you’ve changed me, Cate? You’ve
made the most ordinary, extraordinary again. I like to
see the world through your eyes; I like to show you new
things, give you new experiences. You are my adventure, my grand passion. I am completely in your thrall.”

He lifted his head, and she could not hide from him
the tears that glistened in her eyes. She had not expected such a confession from him, ever. She’d conditioned herself not to think of such an impossibility.
She’d accustomed herself to knowing that any deep affection would be on her side alone.

Giles reached up a hand to catch a tear drop. “Why
do you cry?”

She sniffed. “Because I had not expected you to love
me and because I have loved you for what seems like
forever, only I was too frightened to say the words”

Giles drew her down to him. “Then we are agreed. We are in love.” He kissed her tenderly and she clung to
him, wanting this moment to last all night.

They stayed by the fire for a long while, unwilling to
let go of the quiet moment. It wasn’t until later, when
the fire had finally died down to mere embers that she
realized she’d forgotten to give him her small gifts.

Giles laughed at her as she sprang up to get them.
“They’ll keep until morning,” he said, drawing her tight
against him. He nuzzled her neck. “Besides, I have the
greatest gift of all tonight. I have your heart and you
have mine. No gift or pearls can equal that, no matter
how sincerely intended.”

Cate turned in his arms. “Merry Christmas, husband.”

Giles smiled in the darkness. “Merry Christmas,
wife. I love you”

Cate held those words close to her heart, hoping he
wouldn’t regret them when they got to London.

London, end of January, 1819

In spite of her misgivings over going up to London,
the day of departure arrived with alarming speed.

The Christmas holiday, accompanied by TwelfthNight festivities and the New Year, had sped past in a
bright kaleidoscope of parties and games. Christmas
day Giles had opened the abbey to all for rowdy games
of Blind Man’s Bluff and other entertainments. In the
days following, there’d been card parties in the village
and an assembly dance in the upper rooms of the inn
for New Year’s.

She and Giles were invited everywhere. Everyone
was thrilled to have the earl and his bride with them
for so long. Cate was not surprised to learn that after discharging his holiday duties, Giles usually returned
to the capitol as soon as possible. This year he lingered.

She suspected it was to give her as much time as he
could to prepare herself for London. She also suspected
that he wanted to postpone the trip as well.

She waited nervously in the entry hall for Giles to
tell her the covered traveling coach had been loaded.
All of their trunks had been brought down earlier to be
placed in the luggage coach. She thought of the house
party in the fall when she’d watched all the guests and
their extraordinary piles of luggage, thinking how fantastical it was to have two conveyances. Then she’d
hardly owned enough to fill a small trunk and she’d
been wearing borrowed clothing. It was difficult to believe that had been only a few months ago; it seemed
like a lifetime away.

She spotted Magda in the doorway of the drawing
room. Even Magda looked respectable these days,
dressed in a dark-blue wool gown appropriate to the
status of a companion-cum-maid. With her ironcolored hair pulled back in a severe bun, no one would
guess she’d been a gypsy fortuneteller a season ago.
These days the woman looked every inch the formidable companion, although Magda was often left to her
own devices since Catherine was spending more and
more time with Giles.

“Magda, just look at us. Who would have thought?”
Cate held out the skirt of her green traveling ensemble
and made a small pirouette.

Magda nodded solemnly. “We’ve done well so far.
This has turned out nicely but I don’t like him taking
you to London without me” She’d not quite gotten over
her anger at Giles having Cate Dupeski’s name on the
marriage certificate.

Cate laughed lightly at Magda’s fears. “Whyever
not? Giles is perfectly capable of defending me if it
comes to that” She desperately hoped it wouldn’t.

“I am sure he is. He will defend you, even if it’s only
to ensure his own honor. He gains nothing from having
you exposed”

“Speak plainly, Magda. I’m worried enough about
this visit to town without you adding to it,” Catherine
scolded.

“Who will protect you from him?”

“That’s nonsense, Magda. There’s no need to be protected from him. He loves me, and I love him,” Cate
said simply.

Magda smirked at that. “Is that what he’s been
telling you these days? It’s talk of love that’s lit up your
face? Be careful then. When love clouds the picture,
you never see trouble coming until its too late”

“Are you ready, love?” Giles entered the foyer, riding
gloves and traveling cape in hand. He shot Magda a
pointed look that suggested he guessed the tenor of her
conversation and highly disapproved.

Cate went to him, letting him drape her cloak about
her shoulders. She could do without Magda’s doubt.
She had enough of her own. The last thing she needed was to doubt Giles. His support was the bulwark she
was counting on to weather London and whatever
storms it might throw her way.

The roads were jouncy affairs, rutted with frozen mud
and icy clots of snow. Cate was thankful Spelthorne was
so close to town. One slow day of progress was enough
to see them up to the steps of Giles’s townhouse an hour
after dark. In the summer, the journey was a half-day at
worst, but in the cold of winter with questionable roads
that could break a horse’s leg, it took double the time.

The townhouse was ready for them. Lights blazed in
the windows and the steps had been shoveled free of
snow. Inside, the butler, a starchy fellow called Robards, met them with dignity and presented the staff.
Cate congratulated herself on being ready for that.
She’d learned enough from Isabella’s lessons and her
own experiences at Spelthorne to be prepared to manage the staff. She smiled and nodded, doing her best to
commit names to memory.