His uncle met his gaze and smiled. “Sounds like a marvelous idea, Daniel. She’s been good for you, and she’s done what no one else was capable of—she’s made a respectable man out of you. I daresay she’s quite remarkable and a fine addition to our family.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Daniel said as he thought of the woman who was waiting for him at home. He was suddenly quite desperate to see her again. “She’s a splendid painter, by the way.”
“Is she now?”
Daniel nodded. “And a brilliant actress. She knows several of Shakespeare’s plays by heart, and while she can’t really carry a tune, her wit and kindness are in such ample supply that a man will never find himself in ill humor whenever she is near.” Good God, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from singing her praises now that he’d begun.
He was just about to start on her show of bravery outside Riley’s and how well she’d cared for him after he’d been shot, but he stopped himself, noticing that his uncle was finding it difficult to hide his mirth. “Heaven above,” Wolvington said, “if you’re not completely and utterly in love with her.”
“Of course I am,” Daniel said. “It’s impossible not to be.”
His uncle’s smile fell away, and he leveled his nephew with a serious stare. “Even more reason for me to be happy for you, Daniel. I can’t wait to tell your aunt. She’ll be ever so pleased as well.” His smile returned and he nodded toward the carriage. “Now, how about if we get you back to Avern House as quickly as we can so you can be with your wife? I’m sure she’s eagerly awaiting an account of everything that’s happened.”
Daniel was sure of it, and as he leaned back against the swabs of the Wolvington carriage, grateful for a chance to sit down and rest his legs, all he could think of was that the carriage wasn’t moving nearly fast enough. He was suddenly rather impatient to be with his wife.
Chapter 28
“You could have died,” Rebecca said when Daniel finished telling her about what had happened. After seeing how tired he’d looked upon returning home, she’d insisted that he get into bed right away, which he’d done without argument. Laura and Molly had brought them some food, and as they’d eaten, Daniel had answered all of Rebecca’s questions. She felt sick knowing how close they’d come to disaster, her eyes burning at the possibility of her husband’s body lying lifeless in the street if Grover had managed to take better aim. “It was a foolish plan, one that could have gotten you killed.”
“But it didn’t,” Daniel said. “Yes, there was risk involved—more so than I realized, I’ll admit. I didn’t think that he would actually try and kill me with witnesses present, but I was wrong.” He shook his head. “You should have seen the look in his eyes, Becky. It was inhuman.”
Rebecca nodded. “I’m just thankful that it’s over now so we can go on with our lives in peace.” Heart beating in her chest, she said, “But first, I must tell you of my own encounter with Grover.” Distancing herself emotionally from the unpleasant experience she’d had with the duke earlier in the day, she recounted every detail of their conversation and the way in which Grover had forced his advances upon her. “I’m so sorry,” she finally said, her eyes burning with the onset of tears. Somehow, she’d managed to maintain a measure of calm until now, but telling Daniel about the experience was forcing her to confront the depravity of it.
Daniel clenched his jaw. His eyes had grown dark with fury. “I’m sorry that you had to endure his company for even a second, but at least he no longer poses a threat.” Finished with her food and relieved that her husband didn’t blame her for having been alone with Grover even though he’d specifically insisted she not be, Rebecca put her tray aside and climbed up onto the bed next to Daniel, putting her head against his shoulder. “We’ve been through a lot together these past few weeks,” she said.
He took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze, then kissed the top of her head and whispered, “That we have, Becky, but I do believe we’re stronger because of it.”
“Lord Winston to see you,” Hawkins announced two days later as he stepped into the parlor where Rebecca and Daniel were sitting.
It was getting easier for Daniel to move about. He no longer required assistance when going up and down the stairs, for which he was grateful. He rose now to greet Winston. “I hope you’ll forgive me for not coming to see you at your place of business,” he said as he stuck out his hand, “but I’m afraid I’m still having a bit of trouble getting around.”
Winston shook his hand and frowned. “From what I read in the paper, I understand that Grover shot you.”
“That’s right,” Daniel said. “Hurt like the devil.”
“I can only imagine,” Winston said with a shake of his head. “Hopefully it’s not becoming a family habit.” He looked to Rebecca, who was standing beside Daniel, and bowed. “Congratulations on your recent marriage, Lady Rebecca. You are looking much better than when I last saw you.”
Rebecca looked puzzled, so Daniel clarified. “Lord Winston was there when you were shot. He offered his assistance.”
“Thank you, Lord Winston. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Rebecca said as she beamed at the man before her.
He smiled in return. “Likewise.”
“If you would please have a seat,” Daniel said, gesturing toward an armchair.
“A maid will be in shortly with some tea,” Rebecca added, “unless of course you would prefer a glass of claret, or perhaps some brandy?”
“Tea will be fine, thank you,” Lord Winston replied as he sank back into his chair and crossed his legs. He looked at Rebecca and Daniel in turn and then finally said, “I must say that I think it very fitting that the two of you should end up together. You seem to be extraordinarily well suited for each other.”
Rebecca blinked. Well, that was unexpected. She tried to think of an appropriate response, but Daniel beat her to it, saying simply, “Allowing her to marry the Duke of Grover just wouldn’t do.”
Lord Winston looked suddenly grim. “No, I daresay he would have been the death of her. If any man can kill a woman’s spirit, it is surely he.”
“Thank you for your support, Lord Winston,” Rebecca finally managed. “It is reassuring to know that we have your support.”
The corner of Lord Winston’s mouth edged upward. “I can assure you that my wife agrees with me. There is no question that it would have been a pity to see you married to Grover.” He tilted his head. “The ton can be very judgmental. Especially against those who veer away from what is expected, and let’s be honest, you did embarrass the duke quite thoroughly, no question about that.”
“And we eloped,” Daniel said with a hint of mischief in his voice.
“Yes, you did,” Lord Winston said, “though I suppose one might say that you rescued the lady from a fate worse than that of marrying a rake.”
“That is precisely what he did,” Rebecca said. She’d grown tired of everyone thinking the worst of them—of Daniel in particular. What a relief it had been to have his name cleared in the Mayfair Chronicle the day after Grover had been arrested. “My aunt and uncle practically put me up for bid.”
Lord Winston frowned. “I must confess that I never liked Grover or the Griftons, if you’ll excuse my saying so.” His eyes met Rebecca’s.
“No need for that, my lord. I can assure you that I was never very fond of them myself,” she said.
There was a measure of sadness in Lord Winston’s eyes as he nodded in understanding. “Nevertheless, I didn’t think them capable of such cruelty—of forcing you to marry a man like Grover for their own selfish gain.”
There was a soft knock at the door and Molly entered, carrying a tray, which she set down on the table before placing a cup and saucer in front of each of them. She left with her usual cheerful smile and a bob, after which Rebecca took it upon herself to serve the gentlemen their tea.
“It hasn’t been easy for her, I can assure you,” Daniel said with an edge of protectiveness that wrapped itself around Rebecca’s heart. “But it has given her the opportunity to explore her creative talents. I think that you will be quite impressed.”
Rebecca felt her stomach quake in much the same way it had when Daniel had asked to see the rest of her paintings. She’d never shown them to anyone, not even Laura, though Rebecca suspected that her maid must have caught the occasional glimpse; if Laura had, however, she’d kept quiet about it. Painting was a common pastime activity for ladies to engage in, but most of them favored landscapes and still life, certainly not the otherworldly creatures Rebecca had conjured, for as she’d later revealed to Daniel, she hadn’t painted only fairies but goblins and giants as well. Sharing these with others and making herself susceptible to judgment made her so nervous that for once she was completely unable to utter a word or to smile. So she just sat there quietly clutching her hands together in her lap while Daniel passed the draft of their book over to Winston.
Hoping to calm herself, Rebecca took a sip of her tea and watched as Lord Winston leafed through the pages. She tried to judge his opinion by studying his face, but his expression was inscrutable—not a smile or a frown, just intense professional perusal.
He eventually looked up and stared across at Rebecca with the utmost seriousness.
Oh dear.
He didn’t like it. Her pictures were too sketchlike—scribbles, just as she’d told Daniel. Her stomach quivered, and she feared for a fleeting moment that she might be ill. This was why she didn’t want anyone else to see her cherished pictures. She couldn’t stand the idea of anyone scrutinizing them and was suddenly quite annoyed with Daniel for talking her into this foolish endeavor. “Not quite what you expected, is it?” she said dryly as she reached out to snatch the pages back from Lord Winston so she could tuck them away somewhere safe.
“Not in the least,” Lord Winston said, removing the pages from her reach. He was looking at her as if she’d been mad. The man had only just met her, and he probably thought her a half-wit for painting such silly things. Well, they were her silly things, and she would be damned if anyone was going to say otherwise. “These are exceptional.”
What?
Rebecca froze. She turned her head to look at Daniel, who was now grinning quite happily where he sat, annoying man that he was. She returned her gaze to Lord Winston, still not trusting her ears. “I beg your pardon?”
Lord Winston’s expression relaxed. “I hope you don’t take offense at this, but for a woman who fooled the entire ton into thinking her mad for two years—whatever your reasons might have been—you have surprisingly little faith in your own creative talents.”
She pulled back and dropped onto her seat. “What exactly are you saying?”