Page 30 of Lady Louisa and the Carriage Clock (The Rogue’s Alliance #3)
J uly 1817, Kent
“Wycliffe, you’re going to ask the lady to marry you?” his mother asked, her voice pitched higher than usual due to her apparent excitement. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed as she clapped her hands. “You wouldn’t tease me?”
Cecil turned from where he stood staring into the cold hearth of the drawing room in his townhouse on Park Lane. “I am. If the lady accepts my suit, I wish to be married in Yorkshire with David officiating.”
“What woman alive wouldn’t accept you?” The petite red-haired woman smiled contentedly. “Lady Louisa is the only daughter of an earl, and from a good family. The girl is quite fashionable, as I recall.”
“Very much so,” he replied before asking with a frown, “How would you know that? You haven’t been to Town in an age.”
“Diana keeps me apprised of the goings on in London,” his mother responded with a wave of one hand. “She also told me the young woman has exquisite taste in furnishings and textiles. Goodness, this townhouse could use updating. I adore gardening but could not care one jot about the inside of a house.”
He'd been surprised when his mother decided to return to London with him after he’d been at the estate in Yorkshire for a fortnight.
“I will assist you in reopening the house,” his mother explained. “Your intended can travel to London with her family so the settlement contract may be drawn up.”
He did not remind his mother he hadn’t yet secured Louisa’s hand.
The Rogue’s Alliance was destroyed. Bones and Henry had finished with their part of the list and made a report to Lord Sidmouth, as had Cecil and Leopold. Sidmouth had possession of the original RA ledger. Henry would return to work for the Home Office while Bones had elected to stay in Cecil’s employ.
Cecil had decamped to his childhood home in Yorkshire to face the ghosts of his past and make peace with his future. His brother David, the local vicar, welcomed his return to the family with open arms and an understanding ear.
“I don’t know who murdered our brother,” Cecil whispered to David the night he arrived in the village. “I failed.”
Seated in the tiny parlor of the rectory, David snorted. “Failed? You helped bring down a monstrous organization. You did what our brother set out to do. I can see no greater honor to his memory than destroying the RA. The question is, can you find a way forward now.”
He didn’t ask David what he meant. Cecil’s life had been full of mayhem and murder for the last three years. Could he settle into a quiet country life, with a season in London when Parliament was seated?
Several days later, seated in the rectory parlor again, there came a discreet knock at the closed door before it opened, and a maid looked in. “Vicar, the missus wanted to remind you there is just time for your walk before supper.”
“Thank you, Jane.” David unfolded his gangly figure from the weathered leather arm chair he’d been seated on. “Come along, Wycliffe.”
Supper in the country was often at seven o’clock, quite early compared to Town, and in July, the sky would stay light until well after eight o’clock. Neither man donned outer clothing as the summer had been warm.
David’s ‘walk’ was a stroll across the churchyard and down a dirt path to visit the private mausoleum on the Wycliffe estate. Cecil accompanied his brother as he’d done the last two weeks, often strolling along silently, listening to birds squabble in the air or the trees.
“Those are wood warblers,” David informed him after one particularly loud argument began in a nearby oak tree.
Their brother was laid to rest near their father in the family vault, and both men stood silently for several moments.
“You’re ready to go to London tomorrow?” David asked quietly. “Ready for the future?”
He nodded, a lump forming in his throat. David had helped him with the grieving process. His young wife had embraced her new brother and uncle to her child, behaving as if he’d never been away. Cecil would go to London, then Kent. If all went as planned, he would be home in Yorkshire for an autumn wedding.
“I’ll come back.” He reached out a hand and briefly squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “Soon.”
David left him then as was his custom. Cecil would sometimes talk to their older brother or just stand, remembering the years they’d had together. He’d even wept, in private, at first. As the days passed, his grief had changed from a sharp stinging to a dull ache.
“Grief never really goes away,” his mother had cautioned him. “Take the time you need. There is no time limit on grieving.”
Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize his mother was speaking to him.
“Wycliffe!”
He shook himself. “Excuse me, Mother. I was wool-gathering.”
“When do you leave for Kent?”
“Tomorrow.” He let out a long breath. “Wish me luck.”
* * * * *
L ouisa sat on an iron bench in the shade of an old oak tree next to the garden wall and listened to the birds cooing and the gentle gurgling of a nearby fountain.
Charlotte and her baby were thriving. Her friend’s family had visited soon after the baby arrived. Louisa was happy to hear that Charlotte’s brother William was engaged to the vicar’s daughter.
Louisa’s childhood home in Chartham village where she’d grown up as a neighbor to Charlotte was two hours away by coach. She’d written her mother to tell her she planned to stay with Charlotte as long as she was needed. Edith and Nathaniel were also still in residence as everyone waited for Lord Wycliffe’s arrival at Ashford’s estate.
She’d pressed one of the roses from Lord Wycliffe into her sketch book, and it was the last thing she looked at every night. There had been no further letters to Ashford to notify him of Lord Wycliffe’s whereabouts.
The sound of boots against the flagstones of the garden path reached her ears and then he was there as if conjured out of thin air by her thoughts, hopes, and dreams.
“Lady Louisa.” The viscount approached her and halted a few feet away.
He looked older somehow, yet strangely less burdened. His hair was shorter, he was freshly shaved, and his clothing was the picture of elegance.
“Lord Wycliffe, you look different,” she said softly, standing up.
Cecil chuckled, a sound quite foreign from him but so right for the moment. “Perhaps you could start calling me Cecil? I have a proper valet now. In fact, I have a full staff in London.”
“You’ve been busy,” Now that he was here, she didn’t know what to say, “Cecil.”
“I opened the house in Town, and my mother is currently in residence there. Did I mention I have a brother, David?”
She nodded. “When you asked for baby gift recommendations.”
“Oh yes. I remember now. Shall we sit?”
She resumed her place on the bench and he settled next to her.
“My family seat is in Yorkshire. The house has been terribly neglected. It’s Elizabethan and needs a lot of work.” He looked down into her upturned face.
“How lucky for you. That sounds like a fascinating undertaking,” she replied truthfully.
“And my townhouse in London needs redecorating. My mother isn’t interested in those sorts of things: painting, wallpaper, and the like.”
She replied softly, “If only you knew someone who liked to decorate.”
“If only.” He grinned at her. “I saw the booties you made for the baby. They look dreadful.”
“But I can dance,” she whispered as their gazes locked.
“Like an angel,” he whispered as he lowered his head and touched his lips to hers, once, twice, and then again. When he lifted his head, they both broke into laughter.
“You’re here.” She wanted to cry from relief.
“I’m here.” He took her hands in his. “I don’t understand everything I’m feeling, Louisa. All I know is that I want to move forward and I want you with me. I never desired a family until I met you.”
She nodded. “I never thought about the future until I met you .”
“We can live in London or the countryside. The Rogue’s Alliance is done for.”
“And you’re ready to move on? Your brother...”
“I did what I set out to do. I hope he can rest in peace.”
“While I’ve been here, Ashford has told me many stories about your brother. He sounds like he was a kind, honorable man who put family above everything.”
Cecil closed his eyes a moment before replying, “He did. He was the best man I’ve ever known.”
“And he would want you to be happy. You’re the best man I’ve ever known.” She reached up to kiss his cheek, thrilled at her boldness.
He turned his head to meet her lips, his lips were less gentle than before, the kiss more urgent.
“I love you, Louisa,” he said against her mouth.
“And I love you.”
Several moments later he lifted his head and said with a sigh, “With no dastardly criminal cabal to fight against, I’m afraid I’m not as dangerous or fascinating as I was.”
“You’ll always be fascinating to me, my love.” She wrinkled her nose as she added, “Grow you hair long again, everyone loves a pirate.”
“As you wish.” Cecil released her hands and stood up. “Shall we inform our friends that we’re engaged?”
“I don’t recall you asking me to marry you,” she replied as she rose to her feet.
“Your father and Leopold gave me their blessing.” He shrugged. “A proposal is just a formality.”
“Cecil...” She decided she should start as she meant to go on. “A proposal is tradition. You and I may not be particularly traditional people, but I want you to ask me.”
Louisa looked up to see several figures at the windows in the long gallery of the house. She suppressed a grin as she said, “I want a proper proposal.”
Cecil sighed but went down on one knee. “Lady Louisa, my graceful, well-dressed love, will you do the honor of marrying me?”
“I will. Now get up, our friends are taking too much delight in watching us.” She pointed to the gallery windows.
“Louisa! You knew they were there!” He shook his head but took her hand in his.
“I imagine our marriage will be filled with skirmishes as we are both very competitive. I must take the opportunity to best you when I can.”
“You know this means war,” Cecil replied as he led her along the garden path back to the house.
She giggled, feeling joy burst inside of her at the years ahead she would spend sparring with this man. “Oh yes, my love. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”