Page 74 of A Duke to Save Her

“I think so, too,” she muttered, marveling at the change which had come over her father in the days since the breaking of her betrothal to Lord Crawford.

“Can you forgive him?” Jackson asked as they walked hand in hand back towards the farmhouse.

“I don’t want to feel bitter. He did a dreadful thing, but as Alice said, she wouldn’t change anything. It has brought her happiness, and it has brought me happiness, too. You said yourself that if your uncle hadn’t withheld your inheritance, you’d be married now, and unhappily so. If Alice had stayed, I would be, too. It would be a different life, I know that, but not a life I’d want now. This is what I want, more than anything in the world, and if it meant going through what I’ve suffered, then so be it. I’d do it all again,” she replied, smiling at him.

It was precisely how she felt, even as it seemed strange to admit it. She had come so close to disaster, but sorrow had turned to joy, and Eloise could not have felt happier.

“I’m glad to hear you speak like that, Eloise. I was worried you’d resent your father and resent the past. But there’s not an ounce of guile in you. No hint of bitterness or regret. It makes me love you even more.”

But there was a question she wanted to ask and an answer he had not yet given her. It had played on her mind, even as she had tried to resist asking it.

“And you and Lord Crawford? How do you feel about him? What was it that happened between you all those years ago? You’ve told me a little of it. I know your grandfathers were at odds. But after that, what happened?” Eloise finally asked.

Jackson sighed and shook his head.

“He and his friends were beastly to me. They’d do all sorts of wicked things to make my life a misery. But it was over a woman our true dispute emerged. A Lady Bernadette Delacroix, a society lady we both met in the first flourishing of youth. I was young and naïve, and so was he. We met her at a ball, and she played us both for fools. She wanted us to fall in love with her, and so we both did. It was a game for her, and she watched as our jealousies seethed. One day she would give to me, and another to him, so that each of us believed we had the upper hand.” He sighed and looked away.

Eloise squeezed his hand. She knew well enough the wiles of women and could well imagine the character of Lady Bernadette Delacroix. It was no wonder the scars ran deep – an adolescent in the first throes of love, pitted against another by a woman who wanted only to play games.

“I understand,” she said, and Jackson looked at her and smiled.

“It’s a foolish thing, but it pitted the two of us against one another for life. I saw in you what I felt back then. But it was different. Lord Crawford had become bitter and resentful. He believed you were his property to do with as he pleased. He didn’t intend to make the same mistake he did back then.”

“And what happened to her?” Eloise asked, for she had never before heard the name.

Again, Jackson smiled.

“She was betrothed to a Frenchman, the Count of Beynace. It was all a game to her. Her mother was English, and she had come to London to spend the season with her grandmother. Lord Crawford and I were merely a distraction, a game, a ruse…” he trailed off, and Eloise nodded.

“You don’t have to explain anymore. But I understand your animosity towards him. It’s only to be expected.” She squeezed his hand once again.

“And I suppose it explains something of his own behavior, too. I don’t pretend to like him. I can’t stand the man, but I’d rather put him behind me than bear a grudge against him,” Jackson uttered.

Eloise felt the same. Lord Crawford had treated her appallingly, but he had not had the upper hand. He had not won. She was only glad to have escaped his clutches and found the true love she deserved.

“I feel the same.”

They had come to the farmyard now, and Annabelle and Samuel were calling to their grandfather to help them feed the chickens.

“Oh, I think we can do that,” the Viscount called back, and the two children jumped up and down in delight, evidently excited to have a new playmate to join them on their adventures.

Alice, James and Delphine emerged from the farmhouse, and Alice smiled at Eloise and Jackson, standing hand in hand together.

“Did you enjoy your walk?” Alice asked, and Eloise and Jackson glanced at one another and smiled.

“It was a delight. We found a remarkable folly in the woods. Does it belong to an estate?” Jackson queried.

“That’s right, the Faulkner estate. The house lies in the vale about two miles from here. It was the previous Lord Faulkner who built it for his wife, Minerva. I remember them from my childhood. They were always walking in the woods together, hand in hand, so very much in love. When she died, he built that folly and several others, and he’d walk between them every day,” James replied.

Eloise felt tears welling up in her eyes. It was a beautiful story, and she could not help but wonder what Minerva had been like.

“Did you know her?”

James nodded.

“As much as a farmer’s boy can know a lady. She was always very kind, and so very beautiful, too. I remember her smile. She would call my friends and me over and talk to us when we were children. Sometimes, she’d take us back to the house and give us tea and dainty cakes. Our mothers always scolded us, but they couldn’t be cross with Lady Minerva. She had such a gentle way about her, and she’d do anything for anyone. When my mother was sick once, she brought a basket of fruit and sat with her the whole afternoon. Dear Lady Minerva, Lord Faulkner was never the same after she died.” James shook his head sadly.

“And what became of him? Did they have children?” Eloise asked, but James shook his head.

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