Authors: Julianne MacLean
Tags: #Romance, #Regency, #Historical, #Fiction
They chatted about other things for a while, then Leopold stood up to cross the room
and look out the window.
The leaves were glorious in their rich autumn colors, and the sky was a clear October
blue. In the distance, the lake shimmered magnificently in the late afternoon sunlight.
By God, it was good to be alive, and doubly good to be home in one piece.
He felt very blessed all of a sudden, and was determined to make the most of this
second chance at a life of honor. Perhaps, in the pursuit of it, he would find some
measure of happiness.
PART V
Peace
Chapter Thirty-three
Five years later
The summer of 1820 was an exceedingly hot one in Petersbourg. Rose was quite certain
she had not known its equivalent since that memorable year when her father passed
away and she had mourned him so deeply.
Yet it had also been a summer of love.
Though in the end she had mourned that, too.
Now she was home again for the first time in five years and felt quite jubilant at
the prospect. Everything looked much the same—the streets, the buildings, the people,
and the palace where she grew up. Very little had changed in the city, though she
now looked upon it with different eyes. More worldly eyes, for she was not the same
young woman she had been when she left here.
Since that time, she had been through a war; she had enjoyed a happy marriage and
was a mother now to a beautiful daughter who was the center of her world.
Marie was four and precocious, and very blond like her parents. Rose was charmed and
beguiled by her every moment of every day.
On this particular day, however, her daughter was being well entertained and no doubt
indulged by her uncles at the palace, while Rose and her sister-in-law, Queen Alexandra,
were scheduled to attend an outdoor concert in the park, given by one of Petersbourg’s
leading composers.
It was a most superb afternoon of entertainment. The only complaint from anyone concerned
the heat. The fans fluttered constantly during the performance and the poor hapless
conductor was dripping with perspiration by the end of it.
Afterward, Rose and Alexandra waved to the crowds lining the streets on their return
procession to the palace, which took them through the shopping district in Elmsdale
and past the new hospital on Sycamore Street.
Fanning herself in the warm interior of the coach, Rose leaned forward to admire the
stunning Baroque architecture of the hospital and the sculpted fountain out front.
As they drove past it, the shiny brass plaque on the outer gate caused her belly to
flip over in response.
“Wait, can we stop?” she said to Alexandra.
Alexandra did not pause to ask why. She slid across the seat, leaned out the open
window, and called to the driver, “Stop here, please!”
The coach immediately pulled to a halt, which jostled Rose forward in her seat. “I
apologize,” she said to Alexandra, “but I saw something back there. Can we turn around?”
“What did you see?”
“The new hospital,” she replied. “I couldn’t help but notice the plaque at the gate.
Did it say ‘Cavanaugh’?”
Alexandra regarded her carefully in the thick and humid summer heat. “Yes, and now
that you are home, I suppose you should know everything there is to know about what
has changed since you left.” She leaned out the window again. “Take us through the
gate at All Saints’ Hospital, please.”
The coach lumbered forward on the wide street and turned around, while Rose’s heart
began to beat very fast. She had not experienced anything like it in years, and it
made her feel rather young and foolish.
“Are you going to tell me about the changes, or am I required to guess?”
Alexandra crossed to sit beside Rose and laid a gloved hand on her knee. “When you
left Petersbourg all those years ago, I remember how difficult it was for you. I knew
that you were in love with Lord Cavanaugh. What happened between you was most unfortunate.”
Surprised by her sister-in-law’s blunt confession, Rose inclined her head with curiosity.
“For him more than anyone.”
“Yes, indeed, but everything changed for him after Waterloo. Thanks to you and your
husband, his honor was restored, as well as his title and property.”
Rose had known about that, naturally, for she had made inquiries not long afterward,
but it had been many years since she asked any questions about Leopold. She had felt
it best to let go of the past and live the life she had chosen.
“Ever since then,” Alexandra continued, “he has devoted himself to the service of
this country. He is greatly loved by the people.”
The coach drove through the open gates at the entrance. The hospital, at the end of
a long circular drive, was situated on a wide expanse of grassy parkland overlooking
the meadows on the south side of the city. It was the park where Rose—in what seemed
like another lifetime—went riding each morning.
“This is all his doing?” she asked, admiring the ornate stonework outside the front
entrance.
“Yes. It took him three years to raise the funds, which he accomplished through various
charity events and … well, mostly by asking every influential aristocrat in the country
to donate something. All their names are engraved on the wall on the east side of
the building, so they are recognized and feel quite heroic for their contributions.”
“Can we go inside?” Rose asked. “I would like to see it.”
Alexandra glanced at the front of the building, its white walls gleaming in the bright
summer sunshine. “The staff will have a fit. Perhaps we should make arrangements to
come another day.”
“Oh, no, that will not do,” Rose replied. “I must see it now. There is no need to
make a big fuss about it. We will just stroll into the reception hall and take a quick
look around. I don’t require a formal tour. Perhaps while we are there we can make
arrangements for that.”
Alexandra hesitated and stared at her uncertainly.
“What’s wrong?” Rose asked.
Alexandra laid a hand on her knee again. “He won’t be there, you know. He spends most
of his time in the country.”
Rose wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed …
Relieved.
Yes, of course she was relieved—for it was difficult to imagine what she would say
if she encountered Leopold unexpectedly. It had been such a long time …
She looked out the window at the gardens as they passed by. “Is he married?”
Alexandra shook her head. “No, he never took a wife.”
The bells chimed at the nearby cathedral to indicate the hour, and Rose leaned her
head back against the soft, plum-colored velvet upholstery. She closed her eyes. “How
I missed the sound of those bells.” She waited for them to finish, then opened her
eyes and lifted her head. “I admit I am surprised to hear that Leopold never married.
Surely he could have any woman he wanted.”
“He certainly could, and he has had no shortage of female suitors. That’s probably
why he spends so much time in the country—to escape the hunt. Poor man … like a fox
in a hole with the dogs constantly yapping at his heels.”
The coach pulled to a halt at the front of the hospital, and a servant opened the
door.
“Well, then,” Rose said. “Let us venture inside and see the place, shall we?”
Gathering up her reticule and slipping her fan into it, she slid across the seat.
A footman quickly appeared to assist her and Alexandra out. Together they strolled
up the stone walk to the main entrance.
* * *
“What a lovely hospital,” Rose said to Alexandra an hour later after enjoying a full
tour of the building from top to bottom, and making arrangements to return another
day to visit the children in the east wing. They would organize some form of entertainment.
A puppet show perhaps.
Though Rose had been very interested in the tour, she often found herself preoccupied,
for it was as if the walls were alive with Leopold’s presence. Every step she took
over the smooth marble floors made her feel connected to him again, for this was his
project, his creation.
She was so very proud of him and could not deny that still—after all these years—he
held a special place in her heart and always would.
As she and Alexandra entered the coach, she found herself wishing that fate had intervened
and brought Leopold to the hospital that day while they were taking their tour. She
would have congratulated him for his achievements since the last time she saw him.
She had been a married woman then.
Oh … dear, sweet Joseph. He had been the best husband a woman could ask for. It had
been more than a year since his passing, and she still missed him every day.
Rose was accustomed to such feelings, however, for she had lived with them most of
her adult life.
“Is there anywhere else you would like to visit?” Alexandra asked as they settled
into their seats, facing each other.
Rose withdrew her fan from her reticule and opened it with a slow flick of her wrist.
“No, I would prefer to go home now. It has been a long day.”
The coach lurched forward, and they headed back to the palace.
* * *
The breeze was cool on Rose’s cheeks as she galloped fast and hard across the rolling
green meadow with her groom a short distance behind.
Indeed, it was glorious to be home again, to bask in the familiar surroundings that
were so much a part of her identity. How many times had she ridden across these gorgeous
green pastures? Hundreds of times, to be sure, and now, after having been away for
five years, she cherished them more than ever. She cherished
everything
about Petersbourg, and felt suddenly euphoric as Zeus leaped over a low stone wall
and carried her toward the sweet-smelling forest, where it would be cool in the shade
of the leaves.
Slowing Zeus to a trot, she entered the wood and patted him on the neck. “Good boy.
Let’s walk for a while and catch our breath, shall we?”
She closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh pine-scented air while the canopy of
branches overhead reigned majestically over the path that would take her to the top
of the ridge.
Again, her thoughts drifted to another time when she had ridden this path with the
expectation of meeting her first love. He had come, as promised, and that day would
always remain one of the most magical, romantic memories of her life.
How could she not help but dream about encountering him here again? What would she
do if he came cantering down the bridle path, exactly as before? She would smile,
of course. Her heart would delight in the happiness.
She did not encounter Leopold, however, as she slowly climbed the ridge. There were
no others in the forest except for her groom, who followed at a discreet distance.
At last, she reached the clearing at the top and dismounted. She handed Zeus to her
groom who tethered both animals to a tree and waited patiently while she strolled
to the edge of the rise to look out over the city.
Sitting down on a fallen tree that had not been there before, she untied the ribbons
of her bonnet, carefully removed it, and set it down beside her while she cooled off
in the gentle mountain breezes.
A short while later, the sound of voices caused her to turn quickly, for she thought
she was alone here.
Her heart nearly beat out of her chest when she saw Lord Cavanaugh—
Leopold
—sitting high in his saddle carrying on a casual conversation with her groom, who
held Leo’s horse steady while he dismounted.
Wondering if this was yet another fantasy, Rose stood up and stared.
Oh, how handsome he looked, dressed in a dark green riding jacket and tawny breeches
with polished boots and an elegant top hat. Muscular and fit, he still possessed an
inconceivable power to knock her over with his unparalleled charisma and confidence.
Slowly he approached and removed his hat. “Your Royal Highness,” he said with a bow.
She needed a moment to collect herself, for her heart was on fire at the shock and
pleasure of seeing him again. It was like staring into the sun.
At last, she managed to find her voice. “Leopold.”
It was wrong to address him by his given name, but it spilled from her lips before
she had a chance to think it through.
“I thought I might find you here,” he said. “I heard you had returned to Petersbourg.
Yesterday I was informed of your visit to the hospital.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Oh, yes! It is very beautiful. I was most impressed. I was going
to send you a note to congratulate you.”
He gazed into her eyes for a moment, then spoke in a gentle tone. “I was sorry to
hear about your husband. He was a good man. Please accept my condolences.”
“Thank you.”
They each lowered their gazes while a light breeze whispered through the treetops.
Feeling a sudden reckless impulse she could not resist, Rose looked up and said, “Will
you excuse me for a moment?”
“Of course.”
She picked up her skirts and crossed the clearing to speak to her groom. A few seconds
later, he was mounting his horse and riding back to the palace alone.
“I told him he could leave us,” she explained to Leopold as she returned to him. “Perhaps
you would be kind enough to escort me back?”
“I would be honored.”
She smiled at him and motioned toward the fallen tree, which served as a comfortable
bench to look out over the city. They sat down beside each other.
“I must confess it is wonderful to see you,” Leopold said. “I can hardly believe we
are sitting here.”
“Nor can I,” she replied.
“There is so much to talk about, isn’t there. I don’t know where to begin. How much
time do we have?”
She laughed. “I am feeling the same way, as if we will be forced to part ways before
we are finished.”
He laid a hand on his chest. “My heart is pounding.”