Beauty in Breeches(43)

Now the truth was out at last, the shadows between them had gone away. After all their years of loneliness, they were no longer alone. They had each other now. They were together, in spirit as well as in flesh—as one, as though they had found the bits that were missing from themselves in each other.



They remained at Larkhill for a further week, during which time Julius arranged for work to begin on rebuilding the outbuildings. The cause of the fire remained a mystery, until a grim-faced George paid them a visit.

‘It was my mother,’ he said without preamble. ‘I’m sorry, Beatrice, but unable to bear the thought that you had finally got what you wanted, she paid someone to destroy the house.’

Beatrice, seated on the sofa, was clearly horrified. Though she knew her aunt wished her ill, she could not believe she would go so far as to want to destroy Larkhill. ‘Does you mother really hate me as much as that?’

‘She couldn’t stand knowing you had won, that you had indeed secured Larkhill for yourself. She wanted to hurt you the only way she knew how. I’m so sorry, Beatrice.’

‘Aunt Moira can be very cruel.’

‘Yes, yes, she can. When she learned her scheming had failed to destroy Larkhill, she could not hide what she had done. In her fury she could not stop herself telling me. I could not believe it myself. I can only thank God that apart from the destruction of a few outbuildings, no one was harmed and the house is still intact. I—would appreciate you not taking this further, Beatrice. No good would come of it.’

‘We won’t,’ Julius answered for her, ‘providing Lady Standish stays away from my wife.’

‘She will—I shall make sure of that. It may surprise you to know that she regrets her actions and is more than a little ashamed. She didn’t mean to harm you, Beatrice. Having seen you in London earlier, she had no idea you had come down to Larkhill. She knows how much Larkhill means to you. She meant to hurt you by destroying it. I have her word that she won’t try anything like that again. You need not fear. She—will shortly be moving to the dower house.’

His hesitancy and the sudden warmth that lit his eyes brought a knowing smile to Beatrice’s lips. ‘Then that can only mean one thing. You are to be married, George?’

He beamed at her. ‘I am. Leonora has consented to be my wife.’

‘That’s wonderful news, George. And does your mother approve?’

‘Leonora has all the requisites that are important in my mother’s scheme of things. But whether she approves or not is neither here nor there. I chose my own wife, not my mother.’

‘Then I wish you every happiness, George. But what of Astrid? Has she returned from Scotland?’

‘She has, although I haven’t seen her yet. Henry and Astrid are living with Henry’s parents. It’s just a temporary situation, until they’ve found somewhere they can afford to live. As you know, the Talbots are not wealthy. Astrid’s dowry will help, but she will find that her standard of living will be somewhat reduced and nothing like what she has become accustomed to.’

‘She is happy, George. That is what counts.’

He smiled at her. ‘So it is, Beatrice. So it is.’



The following morning Julius didn’t accompany Beatrice when she went to call on Astrid and put his wife’s excitement down to her eagerness to see her cousin. In fact, she had seemed strangely preoccupied and somewhat secretive ever since George’s visit, which puzzled him. Everything became clear when she returned and told him she was ready to leave Larkhill, that she wanted him to take her to Highfield where she was impatient to take up her new life.

He gazed at her suspiciously. ‘Of course. We’ll leave right away if that is what you wish. You’ll have to decide what you are going to do with Larkhill. The house shouldn’t be left empty indefinitely.’

She hesitated, searching his face. ‘It’s not mine any more,’ she told him. ‘It belongs to Astrid. I wanted her to have it.’

Julius nodded slowly. This was the last thing he had expected her to say, but he knew she would have given the matter serious thought and that the decision to part with her beloved Larkhill would not have been taken lightly. ‘You are sure?’ he asked.

Beatrice took a deep breath. ‘I’m sure. I know it will be safe in Astrid and Henry’s hands.’ And she was sure. She would always remember the look of joyous disbelief and gratitude on her cousin’s face when she had offered Larkhill to her. That alone made it all worthwhile. ‘I would be grateful if you would take care of the legalities, Julius. You know all about these things. All I want is you—to live with you wherever that may be.’

‘And you will not regret it?’

‘No. There is nothing that can be bought or sold or bartered that I would want. The only thing I want cannot be bought—and it is not the ownership of Larkhill. It is you, Julius. Only you.’

Overcome with emotion at what she had done, he put his arms around her and drew her close to him.

She lifted her face to his kiss and breathed in the warm, masculine smell of him, tasted the warmth of his mouth as it came down on hers. All the love that had been accumulating through the lonely years of her childhood was in that kiss. Julius felt it in the soft lips. With unselfish ardour she offered herself to him and Julius took what she offered hungrily, feeling it flowing through his veins and mingling with his blood until the joy of it was shattering.

‘I love you,’ she whispered. ‘I belong with you—wherever that may be.’

He sighed, his eyes adoring her. She was everything he’d ever dreamed she could be—and more.



The next six months were spent in wedded bliss at Highfield Manor in Kent—a magnificent estate that surpassed anything Beatrice had ever seen. It was at Highfield where Julius and Beatrice’s son was born. It was also at Highfield where they received news that Lady Standish had died in her sleep. Beatrice did not grieve for her aunt and chose not to return to Standish House for the funeral.



After twelve months of mourning, Julius and Beatrice did attend George’s wedding to Leonora Fenton and they stayed at Larkhill with Astrid and Henry.

With its acres of corn and green meadows filled with cattle and sheep, Larkhill looked loved and well tended and prosperous. Beatrice’s heart soared with affection and gratitude to Henry, who had done all this, but she no longer considered it her home.

When George and Leonora stood at the altar to speak their vows, Julius’s gaze riveted on his wife standing next to him. The sight of her still continued to have a devastating effect on him, but here, in the church, caught in a shaft of light piercing the stained-glass windows, expecting their second child, never had she looked so radiantly beautiful or so serene. Every muscle of his body strained to endure the torment of her nearness. But it was a torment he welcomed, an agony he didn’t want to be spared. And he knew that having her beside him was all he could ever want for the rest of his life.