Page 22 of Grace


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To her surprise, after a few minutes, he spoke, though his words were barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t always like this.” Grace glanced up, but he was staring off into the dark.

“I left Blackmore when I was fifteen years old.” His voice was impassive as though he was telling the story about someone else. “As you are no doubt aware, my brother died in a riding accident just before I left. What you may not be aware of, is that my father blamed me for his death.” Grace drew in her breath but did not speak. “It was my idea to ride our horses along the road in the pouring rain. My brother may have been the elder by minutes, but he always followed my lead. What my father didn’t realise was thatIblamed myself for his death.” She felt him shake his head. “Or perhaps he didn’t care. He couldn’t bear the sight of me, so I left. I was still a green boy.

“The fact that I didn’t end up dead in a ditch was entirely due to one man. He was already a captain in the Royal Navy on his way to Plymouth to join his ship. He took me with him, and I joined up as a midshipman. Almost immediately, we set sail for the Mediterranean.” He paused, and she felt him look down at her. “Do you have any knowledge of the war against the French and Spanish? It’s not something I believe most ladies of a sensitive disposition would find particularly interesting.”

“You should at least know by now that my disposition is not particularly sensitive, and I very much enjoy reading,” Grace responded tartly. “My knowledge is no doubt lacking, but I believe I know enough.” She softened her voice. “Please continue, Nicholas.”

“The war against Napoleon is still very much in progress, but we had a crucial victory last October.”

“Trafalgar,” Grace whispered. She felt him nod.

“Aye, Trafalgar. You don’t need to know what went before, Grace, but I rose through the ranks very quickly, showing an aptitude for leadership my mentor had somehow observed in me when I was still a lad.” His voice now held a trace of bitterness, and Grace felt her heart contract but didn’t know how to comfort him – or indeed whether he would accept her comfort.

“I spent the whole of my naval career blockading first the French, then the Spanish, and by the time the British fleet sailed for Cadiz, I had command of my own ship.” She felt him swallow and hardly dared to breathe lest he choose not to continue.

“We were greatly outnumbered by the French and Spanish fleets, but not for nothing was Admiral Nelson revered by all. He was a master tactician and gave the order to sail the fleet in two columns directly at the enemy, taking them completely unawares. Only the ships at the front of the line were directly in the line of fire.” His mouth twisted as Grace waited breathlessly to hear what happened.

“I was given the honour of accompanying HMS Victory near the front of the line. My ship took heavy fire as we approached, and I lost nearly half of my crew … including a ten-year-old boy.” Then he did stop. Grace could feel his chest shaking slightly, and realized suddenly, achingly, that her strong, harsh husband was crying. She felt answering tears fill her own eyes. She couldn’t even imagine what horrors he’d gone through. “Please, Nicholas,” she whispered brokenly, “you don’t have to continue if you don’t wish to.”

“The screams,” Nicholas continued as though she hadn’t spoken, “were the worst. That, and the smoke. There were severed limbs lying all about the deck, and the blood made keeping your footing almost impossible.

“John had just celebrated his tenth birthday. He’d been promoted to a cabin boy, helping in the ship’s galley. If he’d stayed there, he’d have been safe.” Grace felt her husband’s hands clench, and in wordless sympathy, covered his closed fist with her own hand. "A cannon ball from a French ship struck very close to where I was standing, and I fell to the deck, my body pierced with splinters of wood in a hundred places, but John, damn his disobedient hide, was closer, and it took both his legs. I managed to get to my feet in time to have him die in my arms.”

He took a deep breath. “Malcolm was my steward. He saved my life. Though sometimes I wish he hadn’t.” His voice became matter of fact. “Nelson’s ploy ensured the French and Spanish line was broken into three parts, and those ships of the British fleet left afloat were able to pick them off one by one. As you are no doubt aware, the battle was a glorious victory, though it cost Nelson his life.

“At the end, I was fortunate my ship was still afloat, and we managed to limp to Gibraltar where my wounds and those of my men left alive were tended. My injuries were such that it became clear very quickly that my career in the Royal Navy was over. I had no idea what I was going to do.”

He looked down at her, and she met his eyes. “That’s when I received news of my father’s death. The old bastard had finally done me a favour because I had nowhere else to go.”

Chapter Thirteen

On the same day in London, the Morning Post reported that the Duke of Blackmore, only recently returned from Trafalgar due to severe injuries sustained during the battle, would, for the first time, be resident at his London town house until the end of the Season. Also in attendance would be his wife, her grace the Duchess of Blackmore who would be making her formal bow to society at a ball to be given by the Marquis of Blanchford in honour of recently returned naval heroes. The paper finished by noting that the Duchess of Blackmore’s official introduction to society at such an event was fitting indeed.

London’stondigested the news with varying degrees of excitement. Nicholas Sinclair had not, to anyone’s knowledge, been present in society since he was a boy. The rumours were rife concerning everything from the injuries he’d sustained, to why he had married so hastily on returning to England. The most popular theory was that the Duke had sustained horrific injuries to his face and figure which had left him completely hideous and therefore unsuitable as marriage material for any highborn lady. This of course was the reason he had chosen to marry a local clergyman’s daughter.

Drawing rooms across London were filled with matchmaking mammas and their daughters speculating with shuddering delight as to just how repugnant the Duke would turn out to be. And whether his new Duchess was merely plain or similarlyafflicted by some kind of disfigurement.

Predictably, there were no polite regrets for the upcoming Marquis of Blanchford’s ball for naval heroes.

∞∞∞

Of course, Grace had no idea of the gossip travelling like wildfire throughout London’sBeau Monde. Had she known, she wouldn’t have been so certain that her recent misdemeanours would not eventually reach the ears of the fashionable elite.

Instead, she had awakened in the arms of her husband who had made love to her for the second time in a most satisfying manner. To Grace, Nicholas’s confession in the early hours had been akin to declaring his love for her. In her naivete, she believed that nothing could come between them; that no gossip could touch them.

Nicholas on the other hand had only informed his wife of the facts. He had yet to communicate the root cause of his nightmares. The true reason he woke up sweating and sobbing night after night and was so terrified of opening his heart or of allowing anyone to get too close.

The actual cause was his complete and utter anguish that he’d failed to save his only son.

∞∞∞

The Duke and Duchess of Blackmore’s coach arrived at their townhouse in Grosvenor Square late in the evening. Thus, they were only observed by a few of the square’s servants running late-night errands. Nicholas stepped down first, taking care to find his footing before reaching for Grace’s hand.

He remained silent as they moved up the stairs together, the door opening at precisely the moment they reached the top step.

Stepping inside the home he had not seen since his youth, Nicholas immediately experienced the cold distant feeling that had accompanied his previous visits after his mother had died.

He became aware that Grace was clutching his arm as she looked around. “Tis lovely Nicholas,” she offered in a small voice. “A bit dark but no less charming.”