Lost Love Found (5 page)

Robin and his wife were to stay with his half sister, Deirdre, Lady Blackthorn, and her husband whose home was nearby. Deirdre and her husband were the parents of seven children, three sons and four daughters. Lord and Lady Blackthorn would also host Deirdre’s brother, Padraic, Lord Burke. At thirty-one, Padraic was yet a bachelor. Gentle Deirdre despaired of her brother ever finding a wife, for not only had he turned aside all of her, her sisters’ and their mother’s attempts at matchmaking, he did not even seem interested in finding a wife.

Arriving first, already comfortably settled at Queen’s Malvern by the time her elder sister’s entourage thundered importantly up the driveway, were Velvet de Marisco Gordon, the Countess of BrocCairn, and her husband, Alex. Each summer they traveled from their home, Dun Broc, in the Scottish Highlands where the earls of BrocCairn had been settled for several hundred years. Their four sons ranged in age from seven to a set of three-year-old twins. Alex also had a ten-year-old daughter by a long-forgotten mistress. He had seen fit to make the baby legitimate, and although the child, Sybilla, had been in her natural mother’s care for the early months of her life, she did not remember her. The only mother she cared to remember was the stepmother who had raised her. She and Velvet were particularly close, for Sibby had winning ways. Skye, however, thought her too pert.

The bride’s family was to host the groom’s family at Pearroc Royal. Robert Grayson was the only surviving son of Arthur and Margaret Grayson, Baron and Baroness Renton, of Holly Hill. Apart from Robert, his parents had been singularly unfortunate with their offspring, losing the two sons born in the five years following Robert’s birth. After that, poor Lady Margaret had suffered a period of infertility until Robert was nine, when his mother birthed his now fourteen-year-old sister, Saxona. Two more miscarriages followed. At last Pamela, now eight, was born. The Graysons, whose small estate bordered on Pearroc Royal to the northeast, had known Anne St. Michael all her life. They were delighted to have such a charming and wealthy young lady for a daughter-in-law, especially in these hard times.

Also attending the wedding were Sir Robert Small, Lady de Marisco’s business partner, and his elder sister, Dame Cecily, who was a grandparent to all of Valentina’s generation of cousins and the generation that followed as well. The Smalls were very much a part of the family. Outsiders assumed some blood tie, which neither the St. Michaels nor the de Mariscos bothered to deny. Sir Robert and Dame Cecily were in their early eighties and as lively as ever.

Originally from Devon where they had owned an estate called Wren Court, they now lived on a small estate near the de Mariscos called Oak Hall. Wren Court had been turned over to Willow. She had been born there. And because neither of the Smalls had married, Willow was their heiress. Sir Robert, or Robbie as they all called him, had only recently and with great reluctance retired from the sea.

Anne St. Michael’s wedding day dawned fair and hot. After an unusually rainy spring the entire month of July had been sunny and hot. The bride, lovely under any circumstances, was proclaimed by all uncommonly beautiful in her wedding gown of creamy satin with a heavily pearled bodice. Atop her flowing dark tresses she wore a delicate wreath of gold-washed silver filigree, pearls, and amethysts. Her bouquet was of pink and white roses. She was attended by her two younger sisters, who were garbed in pale green silk, their bodices embroidered with tiny seed pearls and gold-thread butterflies. They wore wreaths of field flowers in their unbound hair and carried matching bouquets tied with gold ribbons.

The groom, a handsome young man with dark blond hair, was garbed in a suit of pale blue silk. He stammered his vows nervously, to his father’s amusement, while his mother dabbed at her eyes with a white lawn handkerchief. The bride blushed becomingly, to her parents’ pride and the giggles of her younger cousins and siblings. When they were pronounced man and wife and Robert Grayson kissed his new wife, everyone cheered mightily.

Afterward there was feasting and dancing on the lawn of Pearroc Royal. The tables overflowed with the bounty offered by the bride’s family. The feast was shared by the wedding guests and also all of the tenants belonging to Pearroc Royal as well as its servants and the villagers. A caravan of gypsies was seen traveling nearby, and it was invited to join the festivities. In gratitude to their hosts, they told the guests’ their fortunes.

Taking Valentina’s hand, an old woman who was the tribe’s elder stated, “You are newly widowed, but there was no love.”

Valentina said nothing. Her gaze did not waver from the gypsy’s.

“Soon,” the crone continued, “you will learn a secret long kept. You will journey a great distance to seek that which you already have. You will also find that for which you have long sought, that which you believe has eluded you, a lost love found. It has been here all along, but you cannot see it, and you will not see it until you have fulfilled your destiny.”

“Tell me what you mean,” Valentina begged.

The old woman shook her head. “In time, lady, all will be clear,” she said, and moved away to tell another fortune. Valentina looked after the Gypsy, confused. Then, shaking her head, she laughed. Who knew if the woman had really seen anything in her hand? Gypsies could be such frauds, but then the woman
had
known that she was newly widowed, that there had been no love between herself and Edward. For a moment, Valentina felt uncomfortable, but then chiding herself for being a fool, she rejoined her happy family.

Huge barrels of cider and brown ale were emptied and rolled away several times before the moon rose. The guests drank rich, fragrant wines from the vineyards of Archambault, the château belonging to Adam de Marisco’s half brother, Alexandre de Saville, the Comte de Cher. Finally, when the barrels and kegs had been emptied a final time, the ceremony of putting the bride and groom to bed was held. The newlyweds were hustled off to be undressed and placed in their nuptial bed with much laughter and teasing. Though surrounded by those who loved them, the couple was rosy with embarrassment. The caudle cup was drunk with hopes for their fertility, and at last the celebrants departed. Anne and Robert were left alone.

The following morning the newly married couple left with the groom’s family to make their home at Holly Hill. Slowly, Pearroc Royal returned to normal.

As they sat in the small family hall, working at their embroidery, Valentina and her mother talked. The lead-paned windows of the little room were open wide, allowing the flower-scented breeze to perfume the sun-filled room. The July heat showed no signs of abating, so the fireplace was cold.

“I do not envy my aunt,” remarked Valentina as she finished embroidering Bevin’s initials onto an elegant linen pillowslip. She nipped off the excess thread and laid the linen aside.

“Why do you say that?” Aidan asked her.

“Her company will remain for several weeks, Mama. Deirdre’s also.”

“Skye and Adam love their children, Valentina. They are happy to have them under their roof.” Aidan was embroidering French knots into the corner of a linen tablecloth.

“It is not my cousins of whom I speak, Mama,” said Valentina with a chuckle, “but their many offspring. There are nineteen of them staying at Queen’s Malvern and fifteen with Deirdre!”

“I envy Skye her grandchildren, as I once envied her her children, Valentina,” replied Aidan quietly.

“But, Mama, you’re too young to have grandchildren!”

Aidan St. Michael colored prettily at her daughter’s compliment. Her mirror told her that Valentina’s compliment was not overly extravagant, for although her waist had thickened a little with childbearing, she was not plump, and her face was as smooth as a young woman’s. Nonetheless she replied, “I am closer to fifty than forty, Valentina, and the mother of a twenty-year-old daughter who would herself be a mother had she wed earlier in life. Now, alas, just when I thought to have you settled, you are widowed.”

“Robert and Anne will give you grandchildren soon enough, Mama,” Valentina said with a smile.

“In about seven months, I suspect” was the mischievous reply. Aidan’s gray eyes twinkled.

“
You knew?
Oh, Mama!” Valentina was astounded.

“Of course I knew,” said Aidan calmly. “Remember, Valentina, this is my house. Nothing happens here without my knowing. The laundresses report to me, as do all our servants. And very upset was the head laundress when she came to me several weeks ago. You would have thought Anne was
her
daughter, not mine.”

“But you said nothing to Anne, Mama.”

“My dear, what could I say? The deed was done, and as the marriage was to take place shortly I saw no need to embarrass your sister. Besides, I could see that Anne was enjoying her little secret,” Aidan finished with a laugh.

“Does Papa know?”

“Gracious, my dear, of course not! You must never tell him, either. Conn would be horrified that one of
his
girls could behave so rashly. He forgets that his own wife asked the queen for his hand in marriage, and that the women in this family are known to be quite passionate. If I tell him that his first grandchild has simply come early, he will believe it, bless him! Your father, for all his lusty and checkered past, is still an innocent. I love him for it.”

“The women in this family are known to be quite passionate,” her mother had said. Valentina thought on her mother’s words later that afternoon as she strolled the gardens of her family’s home. All but me, she considered sadly. I have yet to feel passion. Certainly I did not feel passion with Edward Barrows, but then, I do not think Ned himself was passionate. He never looked at me the way Papa looks at Mama. Or the way Uncle Adam gazes at Aunt Skye.

I wonder if
they
make love with all their nightclothes on. I never saw my husband naked, nor he me, for he always came to me after the candles were snuffed out. He would come to my bedchamber three nights each week, make love to me once, and then depart without a word. He never stayed with me an entire night except for our wedding night. Yet I know that Papa always sleeps with Mama, and my uncle with my aunt. I wonder if I somehow displeased Ned, and he was unable to tell me.

“You are frowning, cousin.” A deep masculine voice broke into her reverie.

Looking up from the graveled path on which she had been concentrating her full attention, Valentina saw her cousin, Lord Burke. “Padraic,” she said, smiling at him, “I did not hear you. When did you learn to walk like a cat?”

“I could have brought a troop of mounted horses with me, Val, and you wouldn’t have heard. You seem to be pondering something most unpleasant. What makes you look so unhappy, sweet coz? Tell me, and I shall make it all better, as I did when you were a little girl.” He took her slender white hand in his, and they walked together down the graveled path. Though he was some years her senior, and a man, there had always been a deep closeness between them. Neither had ever been afraid to be completely frank with the other. They were the best of friends.

She smiled up at him. “I doubt, Padraic, that you would be interested in the musings of a poor widow.”

Padraic Burke laughed. “I would hardly call you a poor widow, Val. Your husband was quite comfortably situated, and I am told you have inherited everything. Besides, you do not strike me as an object of pity. Come now. You are my favorite cousin, and I am interested in what troubles you. Tell me.”

She shook her head. “It is only silliness, nothing more. I would not trouble you with it.”

Lord Burke was four inches taller than his cousin, who, at five feet ten inches, was considered very tall for a woman. Now, pulling himself up to his full six feet two inches, he looked down at her with a piercing gaze. A lock of black hair fell over his forehead. His eyes, a most startling aquamarine blue, gave him a fierce look. “Tell me, sweet coz,” he inquired in an innocent tone, “are you still as ticklish as you once were?”

Valentina stepped away from him. “Padraic! You wouldn’t dare!”

“Tell me your thoughts, Val,” he demanded, reaching for her and grasping her arm. “Are they so deliciously wicked that you are afraid to reveal them to me?” When she blushed, he chuckled. “Ah, wench, your face betrays your guilt! I shall not rest until you divulge all.”

She made a valiant effort to break free. “No, no, you devil, I won’t! My thoughts are my own, and I will not share them with you!”

Holding her arm firmly, he reached toward her slender rib cage and began tickling her. “Confess, Val, or else this will be but a tiny taste of your punishment,” he threatened, waggling his heavy dark eyebrows dramatically.

“
Padraic!
Damn you!” she shrieked, trying to squirm away from him. Realizing finally that she could not, she capitulated, saying, “I was merely wondering if married people always made love with their night garments on.”

Taken aback, he released her. “Did your husband?” he demanded, knowing full well he had no right to ask her so personal a question.

“Aye,” she returned simply.

“Then he was a bloody fool,” he said hotly, “and no connoisseur of feminine beauty. The men I know enjoy being
au naturel
in their beds with their wives or mistresses. Certainly, in this family, the men feel that way.”

“I somehow thought so.” She sighed. “But, having so little experience, I could not be certain.”

“He never saw you as God fashioned you? Or you him?” asked Padraic.

Valentina shook her head.

“He was not unkind to you, was he?” His eyes searched hers.

“Ned?” She laughed. “No. Ned was a kind and good man, Padraic, but he lacked passion. He was even kind on our wedding night when he found my virginity lodged so damned tightly. Determined but kind. And afterwards, always kind. I just somehow thought there should be more between us than we had. Perhaps it was only that we were not wed long enough.”

“Did you love him very much, coz?” he asked softly.

She hesitated just a fraction of a second, then said quite candidly, “Padraic, I am ashamed to tell you that I did not love him at all.” He looked so shocked that she explained. “Mama had this silly idea that none of my sisters should marry until I married,” she began. “No one seemed to suit me. When I turned twenty last spring I knew I had to wed soon. Lord Barrows seemed as good a man as any of my suitors, so I accepted his proposal. I think he was almost as surprised as I was when the decision was made.