Page 22 of Miss Davis and the Architect (Dazzling Debutantes #4)

Chapter Nineteen

"There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart."

Jane Austen

* * *

T wo afternoons later, Barclay’s carriage drew to a halt in front of Saunton Park. Aurora and Jane stretched their limbs across from him to prepare for disembarking. They had left for Rose Ash Manor the morning after Jane had accepted his offer. There they had spent the day and evening with Jane’s rambunctious family.

To be fair, it was her younger twin brothers who were the rambunctious ones. Her parents were convivial, and her youngest brother, Thaddeus, was a studious boy. And little Maddie was a sweet delight who had run through the gardens playing with Tatiana, excited to have a girl visiting who was close to her in age.

Beside him, Tatiana opened her sleepy eyes, having fallen asleep against his shoulder. “Are we back at Saunton Park?”

“Yes, little one. We should find something for you to eat.”

She rubbed her flat stomach, which gurgled in response. “I am hungry.”

Barclay smiled down at his daughter. It had been some time since she had been so happy and relaxed as she was during their visit to Rose Ash.

Mr. Davis had graciously given his approval for the match, and Mrs. Davis had helped Jane to pack up her things in trunks, which were now tied to the carriage. There had been tears of joy, nostalgia over the passage of time, and much laughter as her family had celebrated their impending union. Jane had played lively Irish arias on the pianoforte while her family sang and danced with the Thompsons.

Soon the Davises would arrive at Saunton Park for their second wedding this month. He had sent Tsar an invitation to join them while the duke and the earl had been conspiring to arrange a marriage license during the departure to Rose Ash the day before.

“I am glad Maddie is coming to the wedding. I want to show her the grotto,” announced Tatiana.

“With an adult, Tatiana. Do not go down there on your own,” warned Barclay.

“Because of the vodorosli ?”

“Yes, little one. The algae is slippery, and the pond looks deep.”

“Will you teach me to swim, Papa? Maddie says she swims at Rose Ash with her brothers, and it embarrassed me to admit I did not know how.”

Barclay grinned down at her, chucking her chin as the footman opened the carriage door and lowered the steps. “You have been cooped up in Town for too long if I have not yet taught you to swim. Perhaps we should ask the earl about a suitable swimming hole while we wait for the house party to end and for all our wedding guests to arrive.”

Tatiana’s eyes shone brightly in the shadows of their vehicle at this news. “Truly?”

“If we are to be discreet, I will join you,” Jane interjected.

Barclay smiled across at his betrothed, still in awe of her beauty. He was having trouble with his sleep—not because he was in mourning any longer, but because his dreams were plagued with the anticipation of marrying Jane.

He shook his head and stood to descend. Turning around at the foot of the steps, he assisted Tatiana down, then Jane. His mother disembarked last, an expression of contentment relaxing her face.

“Mother?” He held out his hand.

She smiled as she took hold to climb down. “You have done well, Barclay. I am pleased to welcome the Davises into our lives. Mrs. Davis is a generous woman, to have taken Ethan and his mother in when they were all alone. They weathered scandal for a boy who was not their own. I can think of no better match, and Tatiana will have aunts and uncles and cousins to support her long after we are gone.”

“We have certainly extended the size of our family considerably. I am delighted that Tatiana now has relations of her own age.”

They turned to watch Jane and Tatiana walking up the steps hand in hand to enter the manor, while the stone sentinels on the roof peered down to guard their progress.

“Perhaps I should have attempted to marry. So you might have had brothers and sisters,” Aurora said in a wistful tone.

“Mother, you have done more for me than most in your position. I regret nothing about our lives. As wonderful as it is to unite with the Balfours and the Davises, the Thompsons are a strong family in our own right.”

Aurora took his arm and squeezed it gently to express her approval. Then they followed his betrothed and his daughter into the manor.

After parting ways to freshen up after their travels, Jane and Barclay reconvened in the library, where Richard was playing his afternoon game of chess with Ethan, while Tatiana observed their play. The duke was sipping a cup of coffee while contemplating the park bathed in late afternoon light and shadows.

Barclay looked back to the door when Aurora entered, her face lit with joy. He shot her a quizzical look as the duchess and the countess arrived behind her. As theirs was a family gathering to discuss the details of the approaching nuptials, the countess shut the door to the hall so that other houseguests would not wander in to interrupt them.

“Oh, Barclay! I have the most tremendous news.” His mother paused, tears springing into her eyes and her voice thick with emotion. Holding a hand over her mouth, she gestured to the duchess to speak on her behalf.

“I was telling your mother that the duke and I are involved in charitable endeavors in Halmesbury. A close friend of ours manages a foundling home, The Halmesbury Home for Beloved Children, for which His Grace is the primary patron. We provide a home and schooling. For older children, we facilitate vocational training with honest local businesses to help them explore their options. His Grace and I had discussed creating a similar home in London, and your mother has volunteered to direct it. As an architect, I am sure you possess valuable insight about where we might establish a safe haven.”

Aurora was ready to speak. “The Thompson Home for Beloved Children, in honor of your grandmother.”

Barclay’s hand rose to rest over his heart, which chimed with sheer happiness. He had never thought to assist his mother in creating her own society, rather than suffer the continual rejection of judgmental biddies. It was perfect. His mother would realize her own dream on behalf of the parent who had stood by her side when she had erred. “I will help in any way I can. I know Tsar will be delighted to assist.”

Sophia spoke up from the seat she had taken near Richard, addressing the duchess. “Annabel, you and the duke are being so formal. I think it is time to relax the formalities.”

The duchess chuckled. “It is a force of habit, I am afraid. Please, call me by my Christian name,” she said to Barclay.

Halmesbury addressed Aurora from where he stood at the window. “Your agreement to direct the new home is very good news. It was imperative to find a woman with the right character to lead the project. Lady Lewis has a heart of gold and the skills to manage a household, which is why the home is a success. These days, she has a matron to assist her, but she still oversees the home. Miss Tho—” Sophia shot him a look, and the duke corrected himself. “—Aurora, you have the sensitivity to understand the children’s needs, which is precisely what we were searching for.”

Barclay was very pleased. His mother would fulfill her dreams to make a meaningful contribution. Aurora assisted charitable causes in London but had never acquired sufficient status to be entrusted with the type of role she had yearned for.

With the patronage of the duchess, along with the Thompsons’ collective knowledge, the home was sure to flourish. Aurora had been taking care of Tatiana these past two years, but now his daughter would rejoin him on his travels, which would leave his mother with little to do other than manage the Thompson household. A project of this magnitude was an excellent opportunity for her to pursue her passion.

He felt a light touch on his arm, looking down to find that Jane had joined him. “I will help, too, Aurora. Whenever we are in London.”

Barclay smiled down at her, lifting his other hand to rest it on hers.

Good heavens! He needed to spend some time alone with his betrothed. The mere hint of strawberries lingering in the air stirred something deep within him, a longing that tugged at his heart and left him yearning for some privacy.

* * *

Jane had seen Barclay’s lingering glances in the library. And later, when they sat together at dinner, she had observed it again—the warmth in his eyes, the way his gaze lingered just a moment too long. It sent a flutter through her veins, her heart quickening in response.

Which was why she was not entirely surprised to hear a gentle knock on her bedroom door around midnight. Barefoot, she hurried across the room to let him in.

Barclay stood framed by the doorway, the glow from the hallway casting his tall form in soft light. Since arriving at Rose Ash, he had allowed her to trim his hair, and the unruly waves were now tamed, accentuating his handsome features. He had removed his coat and vest, his linen shirt hanging loose over his breeches, the column of his throat exposed. His feet were bare like hers.

She met his eyes and saw them crinkle at the corners as he smiled down at her. There was a tenderness there that made her heart ache in the most delightful way.

Without a word, Jane reached out her hand, which he took with gentle firmness. His palms were roughened by work, warm and familiar. She pulled him inside and shut the door softly behind them, settling against his chest with a small laugh as his arms encircled her in a firm embrace. “I thought you would never come.”

His chuckle vibrated against her cheek. “I could not stay away any longer. Not if I tried.”

Jane tilted her head back, her gaze meeting his. His hands came up to cradle her face, his thumbs brushing softly over her cheekbones as if she were something precious. The look in his eyes was so reverent, so unguarded, that her breath caught.

Slowly, he leaned down, his mouth brushing hers with the lightness of a whisper, a question waiting to be answered. Jane answered with a soft sigh, pressing closer, and his lips settled more fully against hers. His touch was tender and unhurried, the kiss a gentle exploration that sent warmth blooming in her chest.

Barclay deepened the kiss slightly, his hand slipping to the nape of her neck, holding her there as if afraid she might drift away. His lips moved over hers with exquisite care, tasting and learning her, and she responded with shy enthusiasm, matching his gentle movements.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against hers, and he took a ragged breath, his eyes still closed. “You taste like strawberries again,” he murmured with a smile.

Jane giggled, her cheeks flushing. “I am back to making my strawberry water now that I am finally sleeping well.”

“Then you must never stop,” he replied, his voice hushed, almost reverent. His hand smoothed down her back, pulling her closer until not even a whisper could pass between them.

Jane rested her hands on his chest, marveling at the steady beat of his heart beneath her palms. She traced the lines of his shoulders, feeling the strength there, and marveled at how solid he was, how safe she felt. Her fingers moved back up, brushing against the crisp linen of his shirt, and she smiled up at him. “I have dreamed of this.”

He cupped her cheek, his thumb grazing her flushed skin. “So have I,” he whispered, brushing a kiss to her brow. “Every night since we left Saunton Park.”

Her heart thudded at the confession, and she rose on tiptoe to press another tender kiss to his lips. This time, there was no hesitation, no lingering question—only the soft joining of two souls finding solace in each other’s arms.

They stayed that way for long moments, simply holding each other, exchanging sweet kisses that grew in warmth but never rushed. Barclay’s hands cradled her back, his touch reverent and gentle, while Jane’s fingers smoothed over his shoulders, memorizing the feel of him.

Finally, when they broke apart, his eyes searched hers. “I love you, Jane,” he said quietly, the words simple but weighted with meaning.

Her smile was pure sunshine. “And I love you.”

* * *

It was strange to be kissing a woman in her bedroom once more. He had always been assiduous about whom he spent time with. Apprehensive of consequences might explain it, but more than that, he preferred to be with someone special. Someone of deep affection. As such, this was the first time he had embraced anyone since Natalya’s passing.

Then, too, he had always been exceedingly cautious because of Natalya’s weak heart. It had been a necessity, both of them aware of the need to prolong her life as long as possible. He was not sure if it was traitorous to be relieved that this was no longer a fear he would need to live with, Jane being a strong young woman with no health issues other than her recent bout of insomnia.

His time with Natalya would always be treasured—a part of who he was. But this new life with Jane would be different. He could plan on a future with her. They could grow old together, and it was such an intense joy to open this new chapter of his life.

Knowing he would not sleep, he closed his eyes to savor her presence before he left her for the night.

When Barclay opened his eyes, it was first light. His pulse quickened. He had slept for several hours, and now he could be caught in Jane’s room!

He withdrew the arm wrapped around her, causing Jane to protest in her sleep. Gently rising from the bed, he quickly straightened his crumpled breeches and shirt. The servants could arrive at any moment or even be in the hall. Quickly, he raced across the room. Leaning his head against the door, he listened for any sign of activity before slowly opening it. He looked from right to left, but the hall was empty, so he exited the room and quietly closed the door behind him.

“Papa?”

Barclay was certain he jumped ten feet in the air. Looking down, he found Tatiana sitting near his feet, leaning against the wall. There was no other word for it—he blushed. He blushed like a little girl to be found sneaking from Jane’s room, mortified that his daughter had caught him.

Leaning down, he lifted her up and quickly made for the door of his own room, lest others come upon them and notice what he had been up to. Once he reached his room, he carried Tatiana over to the sofa to put her down. Taking up a seat next to her, he sought something to explain what she had seen.

“What were you doing, little one?”

“I was waiting for you. Mama said if you were alone in a room with Jane, I must wait so I do not find you doing zrelyy things together.”

Barclay shook his head, still waking up from the unexpected slumber. Again, Tatiana was using a word he did not think she knew. “ Zrelyy ?”

“That is what she said. What does zrelyy mean, Papa?”

Barclay lifted a hand to rake it through his hair. Could it be that Natalya had somehow spoken to their daughter? “Mature. It means adult. About your mother?—”

“She came to say goodbye. Mama said that Jane is my mother now, so I must be a good girl and listen to her. I was happy for Mama but sad that she is gone. That is why I was looking for you. I … I wanted a hug.”

“Oh, little one.” Barclay pulled Tatiana onto his lap to embrace her. “If I am alone with Jane and you need me, you can knock on the door. I will always be here for you.”

“Mama told me that if I leave you alone, I might get a brother or sister soon. She said she would like that very much if I had brothers and sisters like she had in St. Petersburg.”

These concepts were too … zrelyy for a child. Barclay did not know what to say, so he held his daughter tight and wondered if all those nocturnal discussions with Natalya the past two years had been mere conjurings of his imagination. Or something else?

No, it was far more likely that Tatiana had dredged up memories during her vivid dreams due to all the excitement of the past week.

He supposed it did not signify because he, Jane, and Tatiana were a family now. His sleep had returned, and they would live long and happy. If Natalya had been visiting in truth, she was now free to start the next chapter in her journey, no longer trapped here by her concern for them.

Barclay pressed a kiss to Tatiana’s silver-blonde hair. “Are you happy, little one? About Jane and me?”

“Very,” she mumbled against his chest.

Soon she dozed off in his arms, and Barclay lifted her carefully and carried her to his bed to lay her down, pulling the coverlet over her before using a screen to block off the washstand from her view so he could start preparing for his day.