Page 16 of Dared By a Lyon
That was truly so thoughtful of her—she hadn’t hesitated to comfort a child she hadn’t even met before. “As am I, that you were there. You know, the first year after the accident, Caro had nightmares almost every night. They were terrifying, causing her to wake up screaming for her mama.”
He told Miss Vickers about Mrs. Bumbles, and how she had helped his niece. “But over time…they gradually went away. After two years, we believed she had moved past them. Until tonight. Perhaps it was the storm outside, combined with the anniversary of her mother and father’s death,” he said.
And the bedroom… It had been Olivia’s room. The more he thought about it, the more it all made sense. But he didn’t want to tell Miss Vickers that part, at least not right at the moment, in case she was prone to bad dreams when thinking about the guest room. But he would speak to his mother about it.
Miss Vickers covered her mouth and tried to stifle a yawn. “It seems the warm milk has done the trick,” she said, offering a shy smile. “I should head back to my room.”
“I think you’re right. I think I might be able to fall asleep by myself. Come, I’ll see you to your room.”
He carried the candle and escorted her back, letting her know he would check on Caro one more time. Bidding her a good night, he watched as she entered her room and closed the door with a quiet click. Then he turned and poked his head into Caro’s room. Seeing she was still sound asleep, he breathed a sigh of relief and made his way to his chamber at the other end of the long hallway, feeling much calmer than he had in a long time.
Chapter Seven
The next morning
Ashlyn opened hereyes and, for a moment, lay staring across the room at the window. The curtains were still open to allow any sunshine that made its way through the clouds to wake her up. But the glimpse of the clear sky and the stars and the glow of the moon that she had had the night before was gone. Instead, the sky had turned once again gray and gloomy, with dark clouds and rain pelting against her window in a steady cadence.When will the rain end?
She offered a quick prayer of thanks that they had found refuge here with the earl and his family. That the earl had seen to Billy’s care. He was just a boy, after all, albeit an impetuous one. Alice would likely have more to tell her about Billy. Ashlyn would ask her maid when she came to her room to help her dress.
She got out of bed, slid her feet into her slippers, and wrapped the warm robe around her. Padding to the hearth, she laid an extra log on the fire and coaxed the flames up again. From beneath her mattress, she retrieved her diary. Luckily, she always kept it with her. She padded over to the small writingtable on the other side of the hearth, sat, and began to write her thoughts down:
Dear Diary,
Was it a dream or reality that a sweet little girl sleepwalked into my room last night? I gently rocked her to sleep, humming the lullaby that Mama had sung to me, had taught me. She reminded me of the lullaby when we were packing the trunks for my voyage.
Mama told me that one day, I would sing it to my own children. Then she started to sing the lullaby, and tears streamed down her cheeks.
I hugged Mama and wondered if she was just sad that I was embarking on such a long voyage. I reassured her and reminded her that I would be back home before Thanksgiving. And when I returned, I would have many stories to share about my first, and likely only, trip abroad.
Mama had smiled, but something in her eyes was different, as though she sensed something that she wouldn’t or couldn’t share with me. Papa has always said that Mama can sense and see things that others cannot. It was probably one of the reasons why she was of so much help to Papa in his practice. She was a nurse and everything in between. But sometimes, she told me, she had trouble figuring out what the feeling that she was feeling was. It took time…
Well, maybe what Mama was feeling was Elizabeth falling head over heels for that Italian artist and eloping to Italy with him…
Ashlyn had already written her parents about Elizabeth and her elopement, knowing full well they would not receive the letter until well after Elizabeth’s parents had departed for England. But she had sought to reassure them that when her cousin’s parents arrived, she would tell them everything, and she was certain Uncle William would make everything right again.He was Mama’s older brother, and Mama knew how fiercely he loved and cared about his family, no matter his business success. Uncle William and Aunt Beatrice were no fools, and they would get to the bottom of whatever Elizabeth had gotten herself into.
Ashlyn wrote the words of the lullaby down…and blinked back tears as she remembered what it felt like to hold the child in her arms and then to know the truth about what had happened to her.
Was it a dream or reality that Lord Ravensthorpe stood in my doorway last night, and when I looked up, I saw him watching me with such intensity? I could not quite fathom the expression on his face, but his stormy eyes reflected such sadness, such sorrow.
And then, when he told me about Caro, he shared the tragedy of her loss and the family’s pain… My heart flooded with such a profound feeling for the girl.
Losing her parents at such a young age, especially in such a horrific way, broke my heart. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain she must have felt, still feels.
And then spending time with Gabriel in the kitchen, of all places, sipping warm milk and honey and sharing a plate of cinnamon biscuits…
I have never spoken to a man in such an intimate way, in such a private setting, and have never experienced anything like it before.
Then again, Gabriel said he had lost his betrothed in the carriage accident as well. And based on the way he said her name—Juliet—I couldn’t help but feel that he has no interest in replacing her… It has only been three years since that tragedy.
Why are my thoughts drifting in such a direction? Who am I to even contemplate this… Or even think of him as Gabriel and not the earl, or His Lordship?
Because of one special night over a cup of hot milk and biscuits? Who am I to presume anything about this family?
Especially because I am not Elizabeth…
I need to get my head out of the clouds. I am not a wealthy heiress. Most likely, I will end up married to a physician back home. I do want to marry and have a family of my own. In any case, I will be returning to Boston in a few months. I need to remember that my life, my future, is back home, in America…
~A
