Page 15 of One Night in Vauxhall Gardens (Singular Sensation #11)

May 10, 1819

Hyde Park

London

Theresa sat on the quilt Harry had spread out on the grass. As she arranged her lawn skirting of robin’s egg blue over her folded legs, her thoughts went in free fall. He’d called on her earlier then proposed a picnic at Hyde Park, of which she quickly agreed to, for her mother was driving her to madness by talking about plans for the wedding, and how many guests they wanted or the food for the wedding breakfast.

She didn’t care about any of it, didn’t wish to be the center of attention, not even for a wedding. Outside of Lady Aldren, there weren’t many friends who’d be interested in seeing her wed an earl; all of this was for her mother.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?” When he turned, and in the sunlight, a bit of gold pulled through his hair beneath his top hat. It winked off the silver chain of his pocket watch, but what really struck her was the easy grin curving his sensuous lips. That wasn’t there when they’d first met. In fact, it hadn’t made an appearance until recently.

And she rather liked it.

“Have you given thought to how we’ll marry?”

“No, why?”

“Aside from the fact that my mother has adopted the planning as her personal mission, what if we didn’t have the ceremony in a church? How would you feel about obtaining a special license and having our nuptials at your townhouse or even here in Hyde Park?”

“Well, I don’t guess it matters to me either way.” With a frown, Harry sat on the quilt opposite her with the basket between them. “If I had to guess, you don’t want so many eyes on you, especially if they’re all your mother’s friends.”

She nodded. How did he know her so well? “And even if they aren’t.”

“What if they are my friends from the club?”

“I suppose I wouldn’t mind, but…”

“You would rather a simple, small ceremony that is private.”

“Yes. The thought of their judgement for being so advanced in age and finally marrying makes me shudder. There will be whispers and gossip of why now and why you.” She lowered her gaze to her hands in her lap. “I live in dread that someone somewhere will remember the night of the ball at that house party eight years ago when I disappeared with that man …”

For the space of a few heartbeats, Harry remained silent. “Ah. No banns, just a special license with the people who mean the most to us there as witnesses,” he finished in a soft voice.

“Yes.” Was that too bold a request?

“Actually, I think that is a wonderful idea, for I, too, would rather not be gawked at by strangers, have my military record brought up for discussion, which will invariably lead to how I could have grown into the man I am today, with a fractured mind and largely avoiding society.”

“Truly?” She could barely dare hope.

“Indeed.” He lifted the lid on the basket. “Theresa?”

“Yes?”

“Look at me.” The gentle command rang with the authority of the earl. It was the first time she’d felt such power from him since meeting him. When she did so and lifted her gaze to his, understanding and worry shadowed his blue eyes. “Tell me the viscount’s name. I swear I would do anything for you, but trouncing this man would be a fitting wedding present.”

How was he so endearing so soon into their relationship? Another tiny piece of her heart flew into his keeping. “In not telling you, I am keeping you safe and quite possibly sane. You are not the same man you were years ago, and there is no need to kill men any longer.”

For a few seconds, she thought he might break down into tears, but after fighting with his emotions, he got himself in hand. “Thank you.” From the basket, he handed her a bottle of lemonade then took one for himself. “Do you sketch or draw? Today is the perfect backdrop for such talents.”

As she removed the cork from the bottle, Theresa glanced up into the cerulean sky dotted with fat, fluffy white clouds. Leaves were already flourishing on the trees and shrubberies, and the grass was green and thick. “It is quite a beautiful day, but unfortunately, I don’t. I used to, but I haven’t picked up a charcoal or a brush since that night…” She swallowed a sip of the sweet yet tart lemonade to chase down the ball of tears lodged in her throat. “In fact, I haven’t done much of anything since that night.”

Have I wasted my life out of fear, hoping I would eventually forget everything?

“Until you met me?” One of his eyebrows rose in question, but it was the slight twinkle in his eyes that captured her attention.

“Uh…” Warmth seeped into her cheeks. “That is true, but perhaps I needed to meet you in order to come back to life. And though it still takes me by surprise every time we interact, it is taking a longer time to acclimate to that. Not because you aren’t a decent sort of man, but because it’s difficult to convince the fear that’s been with me for far too long that it’s no longer needed to keep me safe.”

Would that even make sense to him?

“Every day brings a new struggle, doesn’t it?” Harry pulled food from the basket, all wrapped in linen napkins. “I understand that more than you can possibly know.”

“Good.”

The next several moments were filled with setting out the offerings his cook had provided and sampling everything. There were thinly sliced cold meats and cheeses, a loaf of soft but crusty bread, a few beef hand pies, a small crock of creamed leek soap, and a variety of tiny jam tarts, which must have been his favorite dessert.

Eventually, they finished the repast, and Harry moved to sit next to her.

“Is drawing something you are still interested in?”

Why was he so interested in this for her? She didn’t know, but his solicitation was adorable, and she couldn’t help but feel he was actually interested in her. “I’m not sure. But it might be nice, especially if we are to travel.”

His eyes lit, but she couldn’t read the emotions there. “Do you still wish to marry in the autumn?”

“Um…” Another round of heat infused her cheeks. “Would you be inconvenienced if we moved the date to late August?”

When he gave her that slightly crooked grin, flutters went through her lower belly. “I would not, but is there a specific reason why?”

“Oh, I…” What had happened to her words? Nonplussed, Theresa shrugged. “With all that has been going on recently, I would rather have our affairs in order and perhaps go away from it all on a wedding trip to avoid things if we must.”

Surprise lined his face as a bit of hardness entered his eyes. “You wish to run like cowards?”

“No, of course not.” How could she explain when she didn’t understand it herself? Perhaps it was best to just have it out. “It’s just… Well, I couldn’t live with myself if something were to happen to you, Harry. And after all the horrible in our lives, I don’t want you to have looked forward to things if they don’t occur.” Before he could protest, she surged onward. “I want to travel with you, see the world with you, and I don’t want the threat of Lady Stover hanging over our heads else we’ll never be able to enjoy our lives.”

“One could argue that such a threat is a good reason to defy the odds and enjoy life anyway, but I understand.” He removed his top hat and set it to one side of the quilt. “What of the state of our relationship? Are we friends? Lovers? Is it still a convenience since we passed in name only back at the British Museum?”

There was every possibility that she might burn to death if she continued to blush in his company. “While that is essentially true, I haven’t decided. Perhaps after the ceremony and wedding trip.”

“I see.” Though he nodded, his gaze jogged away.

Was he disappointed that she didn’t admit to feelings? Was she? Did she still not trust him after everything they’d shared? It was too difficult to say, but these were uncharted waters for her. “Please don’t think poorly of me. I promise I am not playing with your good will or emotions. Instead, I am being cautious.”

“While you think nothing of warming my bed?” One of his brown eyebrows rose in question. “While we skirt the edges of scandal and gossip?”

“I know. I’m sorry. When presented with you in the times that you are not yourself or when you are lost to the past, the only thing that will bring you back is kisses. And we both know where those lead.”

“But as you said, you’ve come back to life in them as well.”

“Yet that isn’t an excuse, I fear.” She frowned and looked away from him at the trees surrounding them. “It would seem my thinking is broken. Clearly, I’ve shown that I won’t prove a believable countess.” The tears in her voice bothered her, and when that moisture rose into her eyes, she blinked furiously to encourage them away.

“There is no right or wrong way for a countess to be.” The soothing tone of his voice had little effect even as she leaned toward him in an effort to recapture that closeness. “Of course, if you’re a murderer, then we would need to talk about your conduct.”

That pulled a small laugh from her. “I wish I could believe you.”

“Bring yourself to the title, Theresa. I don’t ask anything other than that. Women like you are a breath of fresh air to the beau monde . In a class that is far too stodgy and unyielding, a woman who embraces her flaws and failings can only be a good thing.”

She nodded. “I will try.” But a tear escaped to her cheek anyway.

As he put the dishes and detritus of their lunch into the basket, he said, “As for the other thing, well, here’s how I choose to think of it. If we are both whole during those times of intimacy and frantic joining, if we can both silence our inner demons by finding pleasure with each other, who is to say that is wrong? There is precious little hope in this world as it is. Take it wherever you can find it. I certainly am.”

Another few tears fell, and as she brushed them away, she saw the earl in a whole new light. Despite what had happened to him over the years, despite what he must have witnessed during his time in the military, beneath those layers he was merely a man who wanted to live his life to the best of his ability and find himself in the process.

“Do you know how wonderful you are?” Theresa whispered as she leaned into him further, drew his head down, and then briefly kissed his lips. “Don’t let the ugly in the world steal this man; he is worth more than half the men in London.”

This time his grin held an edge of bemusement. “I appreciate that.” Then he lay on his back with his arms tucked behind his head. “As we digest, let us watch the clouds. At least in this out of the way section of the park, no one will bother us.” The dear man didn’t mention her tears.

After she moved the basket to the side of the quilt, she settled next to him with her hands resting lightly on her belly. “Sometimes I forget how lovely the world can be when I’m laboring beneath the drudgery of daily living.”

“It’s interesting how something comes along and changes our perspective when we least expect it.” Harry stared into the sky, and she reveled in the warmth of him next to her. “You know, I was never supposed to be an earl.”

“Oh? What happened?”

“It was my brother’s responsibility. He was the one my father doted on because he was the heir. I was only the spare, and I was fine with that, for I had other aspirations for my life. But then my brother died in the war.” Slight annoyance threaded through his tone. “He perished taking a stupid dare from his reckless friends; he didn’t even die in battle or honorably.”

“How did he die then?” She hated to even ask the question for fear he’d stop sharing from his past.

“He drank too much, fell off his horse, and into a latrine, where he drowned.” He turned his head and looked at her. “Papa was livid when he received the letter, for how dare his heir die in such embarrassing circumstances, leaving him stuck with me to assume the title.”

“I’m sorry. That probably changed the whole trajectory of your life.”

“It did, of course, but since I was already away in the service, there wasn’t much I could do about it at the time. Shortly after my commission expired, my father died, but I was in Rome and didn’t want to come home. Not after everything. I simply needed to decompress, and try to heal before acquiring new wounds, so to speak.”

“How well I understand that, for it is how I’ve lived these past eight years.” It was uncanny how their lives mirrored each other. Slightly, but it was still there. “Such a thing happened with my brother too, except for the drinking bit. My older brother died in the war. My father didn’t want either of my brothers going, but he couldn’t stop their fervor.” She heaved a sigh. “I also had a younger sister, but she died of an ailment of the lungs, shortly before Papa left this mortal coil.” The emptiness of grief welled within her chest. Suddenly, she turned onto her side and grabbed his hand. “I’m tired of losing people from my life, Harry. Please promise you will always be here, and that you will be careful when it comes to Lady Stover.”

Emotions flitted through the blue depths of his eyes—surprise, compassion, affection—and something else she couldn’t identify. “I promise. And in the event you wondered, you are safe with me, from everything.” After slowly bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed the back. “Theresa?”

“Yes?” Why was her heart beating so fast?

“My parents enjoyed their marriage. Their union was one full of love… until my brother died. I…” His eyes bore into hers, and a wave of awareness came over her. “I would eventually like to perhaps have that as well, if it’s even possible with two broken people like us.”

How was it possible that this man had rooted beneath the defensive wall around her heart in order to free her? She clung to his fingers. “It is early days yet, but I might like to have that as well, especially since my parents’ marriage was fraught with fighting, hating, and infidelity.” Once she swallowed hard, she said, “And broken people are more willing to fight for what they want than anyone else, so our odds are good.”

“I like the sound of that.” Seconds later, he cupped her cheek, leaned in, and claimed her lips in a series of tender kisses that had the power to steal her breath and flutter her pulse. Several lazy minutes passed before he let her up for air. “I’m looking forward to the next couple of months, and I can’t remember when I’ve anticipated the future. I’d say August should be a lovely month for a private ceremony.”

“Oh, you!” With far too much enthusiasm, Theresa pounced, and as he rolled onto his back, she followed him down and kissed him again.