Sweet Rogue of Mine (The Survivors #9) - Shana Galen Page 0,104
is ruined, well, there are worse trials.”
“Miss Howard,” the earl began.
She shook her head. “I’m not done.”
The earl’s brows shot up higher.
“I simply ask that you don’t accuse Nash of ruining me. He did not ruin me. I seduced him.”
The earl’s lips pressed together. “I see.”
“He’s a very good man, and I know he pointed that pistol at you yesterday, but he didn’t realize it was you. I have never been in a war, so I cannot imagine what it must be like. Have you ever been in a war, my lord?”
“No.”
“Then you cannot understand either. Nash isn’t dangerous. He just needs time to recover. And he really is recovering. He is so much better than he was—”
“Miss Howard.”
“And I think given time—”
“Miss Howard.”
“Sir, I am trying to talk you out of sending him to the asylum.”
“I realize that, Miss Howard. And your feelings for my son do you credit. He is a good man. He always has been.”
Pru stared at the earl. “Have you told him you think so? You can’t imagine how much that would mean to him.”
“We have not been on good terms for some time.” The earl looked past Pru, toward the lawns.
“All the more reason to make amends now.”
Beaufort’s gaze flicked back to her. “Miss Howard, you are very forthright for a young person.”
“I know. I keep telling my mouth to shut up, but it keeps ignoring me. Oh!” She grasped the earl’s hand and squeezed it.
“Miss Howard, this is quite—”
“Shh!”
“Miss Howard,” he hissed.
“Look.” Slowly, she raised her free hand and pointed into the hedges bordering the far end of the lawn. “Do you see him?”
“Do I see who? Really, you should release my hand.”
Pru released him and placed her hand on his arm. “The peacock,” she said. “He’s just right there.”
She felt his arm stiffen under her hand and then his shoulders dropped, and he let out a small chuckle.
“I’ll be damned.”
Pru glanced at the earl. He was smiling broadly, his eyes dancing with merriment as he watched the peacock strut in front of the hedges.
“I’d quite forgotten about those birds. How can he still be alive? I brought them here years ago.”
Pru told him what she’d learned about the peacock lifespan in Constantinople. “Mrs. Northgate told me the day of the garden party you asked Nash to give a sharpshooter demonstration.”
The earl’s smile faded slightly. “Yes, I did.”
“She said he was only about ten and was better than all the men of the village.”
“Quite true. He was always a natural with a firearm. I’m quite a good shot myself, so he comes by it honestly.”
“My lord, you were proud of Nash that day,” Pru said. “Do you not think you could be proud of him again?”
The earl let out a sigh. “Miss Howard, you are speaking of things you know nothing about. Much has happened in the years between, and Nash is not the same man he was when he left for the war.”
“But he’s still your son. And he still needs your love.”
“Miss Howard, these matters do not concern you.”
“I know.” She spread her hands wide. “I told myself a dozen times to keep my thoughts to myself, but how can I when all the signs tell me to speak out?”
“What signs?”
“The peacock!” Didn’t the earl see that as a sign? What were the chances that the elusive peacock would be here, in this exact place, just as the two of them happened to come to stand here? “I can’t stay silent when the peacock is there.”
The look on his face indicated perhaps he thought she should go to an asylum. “I don’t follow you, Miss Howard. What has the bird to do with whether or not you mind your own business?”
Really. She could see the family resemblance more than ever. Neither Nash nor his father seemed to have any imagination. “My lord,” she said, summoning all her patience. “The peacock is part of your past—a symbol of the love and pride you once had for your son. To see one now is a clear sign that Nash needs that love and pride from you again.”
“Or it might just be that the bird has managed to survive all these years.”
As she’d thought—no imagination.
“Have you not been back to Wentmore in the last twenty years?” she asked, trying logic, though it pained her.
“I have.”
“And have you ever seen the peacock? Your son led me to believe everyone thought the peacocks dead—succumbed to the elements or eaten by foxes.”