Chapter One
Village of Tideswell – Derbyshire – 1815
Celeste heard the sound of a groaning rope from outside the cottage. It tore through her entire body and catapulted her back to that awful day. Mon Dieu. All of the fear she had experienced on that occasion slammed into her. She could not move. The rhythmic noise continued as she envisioned her father hanging lifeless. It must be one of the children. Celeste defeated her terror and rushed outside.
In the tiny garden, little Mimi gleefully swung back and forth on her newly repaired swing. Remembering to breathe, Celeste took a moment to calm her rapid heartbeat. Her gulping breaths masked the sobs of her memory. The sound of the swing with the creak of the rope echoed a body on the gallows.
A tall figure beside the swing turned to her. She forgot about being calm. Beside her precious little sister stood the man who had made orphans of them all. Colonel Sheridan St. John, whose accusations had her father executed on Tyburn Hill, smiled tentatively at her.
The ensuing three years had been kind to him. He was tall and muscled, his blond curls close cropped. His eyes were dark blue, hypnotic in their allure. With that dimpled smile, he attracted her as much as ever.
Damn you to hell.
Without hesitation, Celeste ran to Mimi and removed her from the swing. She carried the child toward the cottage. When she had put sufficient distance between them and St. John, she turned back. “You have no business here. Go away and leave us alone.”
“But CeCe, the gentleman fixed my swing and called me Mignon.” Mimi pulled back from her. “Nobody ever calls me Mignon.”
“It was very nice of him to help us, but Colonel St. John needs to be on his way.” Celeste turned toward the cottage, determined not to speak to their enemy any longer, determined not to show him how unsettled he made her.
“Miss Hargreaves, I have come on the Prince Regent’s business. I need to speak to you.”
Carefully she put Mimi down and guided her toward the door of the small cottage. “Run along, darling. Go inside. I will be there in a moment.”
Celeste closed the door behind Mimi. They had already lost too much. She would not allow another slaughter. She clenched her hands to keep them from shaking and faced her adversary. “What do you mean the Prince Regent’s business?”
“It would be better if we could sit down and discuss it.” He leaned heavily on a cane.
Ignoring his suggestion, she stepped forward. “Have you come with more ugly accusations? Which one of us will you drag to the gallows next?” If they take me away, what will happen to the children? Her heart beat an irrational cadence.
“No, Miss Hargreaves. It is nothing like that. There have been new developments in your father’s case.”
“What new developments? He is dead. There is nothing else to be done. Nothing will change his condition, nothing will bring him back.” Tears pricked her eyelids, and threatened to spill over. I will not cry in front of you. I am finished with that particular humiliation.
“Miss Hargreaves, please…”
A shower of small stones pelted the colonel, forcing him to shield his face with
his arm.
Firing another barrage of rocks at the colonel, William displayed an excellent aim.
“Get away from my sister.” He ran nimbly in the opposite direction.
“Stop that this minute.” Celeste grabbed for him as he ran past her, but could not catch him.
Pausing only to reload with larger ammunition, he resumed tossing the rocks, running in a zigzag pattern.
“I know who he is. He killed Papa.” William danced away from Celeste, only to dart back and throw more projectiles.
In the distance, drawn by the commotion, Vicar Robson lumbered toward them. Celeste saw his slow progress would not be of immediate help.
Unable to catch William and with no other recourse, Celeste acted quickly. She jumped in front of the colonel to shield him from a fresh cannonade. She would not have William accused of attempting to kill the Prince Regent’s messenger. It would be the last thing they needed.
“Miss Hargreaves, no,” St. John ordered as he put his hand on her shoulder. He was not surprised when she rolled her shoulder to shake off his touch.
“No matter what you’ve done, I cannot let William kill you. I cannot lose another member of my family to the so-called justice of the Crown.”
At that moment, a larger stone flew through the air, striking Celeste in the forehead. Disoriented and dizzy from the blow, she started to fall.
St. John dropped his cane and caught her in his arms. “Celeste.”
Her forehead on fire, Celeste put her hands on his arms to regain her footing. “You lost the right to use my first name long ago,” she murmured, momentarily unable to stand alone.
Fire spread through her hands as they rested on his strong arms. Puzzled, she looked into his eyes, only to see him looking intently back at her. No, it is too late for such emotion between us.
Confused, she only knew such feeling was neither welcome nor appropriate. She pushed unsteadily back from him, resolved to allow no further liberties.
“Apologize at once, you young hellion.” The vicar’s bellowing broke the spellbound silence.
“Are you hurt, CeCe? I didn’t mean to hit you.” William, the angry, would-be assassin, reverted to a boy again, in immediate danger of tears.
Standing on her own at last, she turned to face her brother. “You must not do such things. You might have injured Colonel St. John.”
“I wish I had,” he cried, passionate once more.
Vicar Robson shook him by the ear, resembling an English bulldog, jowls shaking as if he worried a puppy.
“If you injured the colonel, he would be within his rights to cart you away to Newgate. Would you leave your sisters with no one?”
“Ow.” He stopped fighting the vicar’s grip. Angry tears coursed down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think of that.”
“You were not thinking at all, you rash young fool.” The vicar shook him once more for good measure.
“Please, let’s have no more of this,” St. John reached with a placating hand. “It is not necessary.”
“Will you be still?” asked the vicar peering at the twelve-year-old.
“Yes sir.” William’s stance was subdued, but his eyes were rebellious.
The colonel turned back to Celeste. “Miss Hargreaves, I have come to tell you that the true traitor in your father’s case has confessed.”
Stunned, she did not respond for a moment. “What do you mean? Someone else admitted to supplying the information on English troop movements to France?”
“Hear, now, ‘tis wonderful news.” The vicar beamed with approval.
“But our father is gone. What good is this information to us now?”
The news came three years too late. All she could think about was her gentle father’s execution, taunted by the crowds, named the greatest traitor of his age.
Pulling a dispatch case from inside his coat, Colonel St. John handed it to Celeste. “Baron Hargreaves has been fully exonerated. I am truly sorry it is posthumous.”
Celeste looked at the parchment scroll with the seal of the Prince Regent.
Her tears stung as she remembered how her father pleaded his innocence beneath the gallows. He had not contacted agents of the French.
“Kill the traitor. Many good Englishmen died by that ambush. Kill him.” roared those in the crowd.
In one day, Celeste saw her father lose his life, and her mother lose her will to live. Giselle collapsed when her husband gasped his last strangled breath.
Carried none too gently to the hired coach, she did not soon revive. Now it was all to be erased by the setting of the Prince Regent’s seal? Celeste would never forget what was done to her parents, no matter what decrees were made. She smothered her emotions, her usual means of coping, and looked at the colonel.
“How did you find us?” They were buried in the cou
ntry, living in a small cottage on the edge of a meadow, within sight of the vicarage. She taught the miners’ children. None of her pupils asked about her parents or cared about her pedigree. She hoped her family would be forgotten and safe in such a remote area.
“I made it my business to know your location,” he replied, quietly.
“In case you found evidence against me? Or is it William you seek?” She wanted to make the hateful man leave, no matter her past feelings. Go away, damn you.
“Miss Hargreaves, I…” He reached toward her.
With her head held high, she moved away from him with dignity, her physical pain forgotten. “Thank you for bringing this news to us. You may report to the Prince Regent that you performed your duty admirably, considering how distasteful it must have been.” Taking William’s hand, she wanted nothing more than to escape into the cool darkness of their drab cottage. She had to escape the scrutiny of the man she still loved. How can I feel anything for you but hatred?
“Miss Hargreaves, I am afraid that isn’t all I’m directed to tell you.”
She looked toward him once more, avoiding those eyes.
“Yes?” Why couldn’t he simply walk away?
I can’t take much more of this. Did you come with the sole purpose to taunt me, make me remember what I wish to forget?
St. John shifted position awkwardly. “Plans have been made to restore you to your rightful places in society.”
“You may tell the Prince Regent it isn’t necessary.” As if a position in society could restore what they lost. It would only serve to remind them of the former friends who turned away, leaving them alone. To this day, she could see the sly faces whisper behind well-groomed hands when she and her mother entered any public gathering. She would not provide the Ton with more fodder for their gossip. She did not want to live among those people again.
His voice gentle, St. John responded. “I am afraid he will not accept that answer. Extensive plans have been made for you, William, and little Mignon.”
She stiffly held her hands at her sides. They shook too much to be controlled in any other position.
“We have no need of outsiders planning our lives. Now go and tell the Regent we said no thank you.” She bit off the rage filled words. The very idea.
Vicar Robson put his hand on her shoulder. “Think of what this can mean for you all. You have done well here, but your future should be much greater than teaching the village children.” He turned to St. John. “Let us give Miss Hargreaves time to recover after her ordeal. I am sure this has been a shock for her.”
St. John picked up his cane and allowed the vicar to take his arm.
The vicar led the colonel down the path to the vicarage, glancing back at Celeste.
“When you are ready, my dear, we can meet in my home. I am certain it will be a more congenial setting in which to discuss these matters.”
By the stubborn look on William’s face, Celeste knew the setting might be congenial, but the discussion would not.
Sheridan walked beside the vicar but did not listen to his endless monologue. His thoughts were only of Celeste. He suppressed a sigh and remembered back to another early spring day.
“Home at last, Lieutenant?” The voice behind him was pleasant, low-pitched and mature.
He turned to address the speaker and saw a vision in blue. He looked twice, unable at first to accept the young woman before him. “CeCe, is it really you? How grown-up you are.”
Her laugh rang delightfully through the breeze. “Did you think I would still be the same? You’ve been gone five years. I’m sixteen now. Everyone calls me Celeste. I am too grown up to be CeCe.”
He took both her hands in his. “Father said your family was here. But I confess I expected to see the little . . .”
“Imp? Or do you prefer scamp?”
His lips stretched in a wide grin. “I was going to say little girl.”
“Come now, Lieutenant, you don’t fool me. I know I was a nuisance.”
“Oh you weren’t quite that bad.”
“Of course I was. I planned it that way.” She rolled her indigo eyes. “Besides, I have a baby sister now. She promises to be as much of a pest as I ever was.”
“She could never equal your fondness for mischief.”
She batted his shoulder playfully. “You haven’t changed at all. Just for that I charge you to escort me inside.” She shivered in her thin dress and open cape.
“Of course, Miss Hargreaves, I am at your command.”
“Just be certain to remember that.” Grinning, she cocked her head and raised a single eyebrow awaiting his response.
With elaborate gravity, he offered his arm. Celeste took it and he pulled her close. She felt so right on his arm, as if she would always belong there. Who would have thought the little bother who trailed after him as soon as she could walk would grow into such a delightful young lady?
“Here we are, Colonel. Please come inside and my wife will see to your comfort while we await the Hargreaves family.”
“Thank you, Vicar.” Sheridan limped into the tidy house. He needed to sit down and rest his aching leg to focus on the battle to come. The Celeste he knew was a formidable woman who would fight to maintain control of her future. He hoped he was up to the skirmish. He had to be.