And tonight she had become the Countess of Creighton, a peeress in her own right.
"Thank you, Mary," she said. "That will be all."
"You won't be needing anything else, my lady?"
Rebecca shook her head. All she wanted was to be alone with her husband.
"I am so sorry," he said, closing the door behind Mary. He took Rebecca into his arms and held her for a long time. She closed her eyes and rested her cheek on his chest.
When she was ready to let go, he helped her unbutton her bodice and folded it with her skirts, and set everything carefully upon a chair. While she stood in somber silence, he removed the pins from her hair and brushed it, smoothing it out with his hands and stroking it away from her face.
When that was done, she went to the wardrobe and opened the doors to find all of her clothes still hanging there, just as she had left them. Her chest of drawers had not been touched either, so she was able to find a favorite nightdress. She put it on while Devon undressed, and a few minutes later, they both slid into the warm bed with a candle burning beside them on the table.
"Are you all right?" he asked, lying on his side, facing her in the dim, golden light. "Is there anything I can do?"
She touched his cheek. "You have done so much for me already. I could not ask for anything more."
"But your father is gone. Perhaps if I had acted sooner…. Or if I had come here alone to face Rushton…"
"No, you must not think that way, Devon. None of us can control how life plays out. Nor can we look back on things and wish we had done them differently. All we can do is our best at any given moment, and risk making mistakes, for the alternative is to sit back, always afraid, and do nothing."
He spoke softly in the quiet room. "But in my desire to avoid being your hero, I left matters alone that should have been attended to. It was wrong of me to work so hard to keep a distance between us."
She gazed into his eyes. "May I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"On our wedding day, you told me you did not want to be my hero because you had failed MaryAnn that day in the woods. Please tell me the truth, Devon-did you love her?"
A shadow of regret passed over his features. "She was my brother's fiancee, and yes, I did."
Rebecca digested the words with a surface calm, while inside she was wishing desperately that the answer had been different. But at least now she understood her husband's emotions surrounding that ordeal, and why he had always exercised restraint when it came to his emotional involvement within their marriage.
Love had not been a friend to him in the past. It had caused him heartache and shame. It had destroyed his relationship with his brother. "What happened between you?"
"It was the letter she wrote," he replied. "Until then, I had denied my feelings for her and buried them as best I could. But the letter was what made me go to see her alone. I had every intention of convincing her to forget me, and that she should be with Vincent. I was not going to reveal how I felt, but she was persistent, and I was weak. I desired her, and we did things I regret."
"Did you make love to her?"
He paused. "I went as far as a man can go before complete ruination, but stopped in the nick of time. Even so, I had never felt more ashamed." He closed his eyes. "I remember telling her harshly to get dressed, while I fastened my breeches with hands that would not stop shaking. It was a nightmare, and it is why I was in such a hurry to return her to the palace. To Vincent. I wanted to erase what I had done, and in my haste, I was grossly incompetent."
She sighed. "You had enough to worry about at Pembroke, after coming home from America to face your brother again, then to learn of your father's illness. Then you suddenly found yourself with a new bride who was pushing for your love-a bride who had kept secrets from you. I should not have expected you to solve all my problems, Devon. It was wrong of me to come to Pembroke assuming you would."
"But thank God you did come," he said, pulling her close. "How I needed you. You will never know how badly I wanted to be your hero tonight. With every inch of my soul, I wanted to protect you and keep you safe, not only from Rushton, but from everything unpleasant in the world."
She snuggled closer. "You were my hero."
"Perhaps a better word is 'ally.' You were very brave tonight. You've always been brave."
She managed a small smile. "I had the strength and courage to confront Rushton because you were at my side, and if not for that, my father would still be living in fear and shame. And perhaps your family might have been in danger."
"I am so sorry about what happened to your father."
"I am, too. But it was his choice to confront his enemy. I believe he needed to do it, and now I understand that it was his guilt and fear that changed him in recent years. He was no longer the father I remembered from my childhood."
Devon kissed the tip of her nose. "But he was brave tonight."
She nodded.
"As for you and me," Devon said, "we shall share the heroics by agreeing to be comrades, because when we are together, Rebecca, you rescue me from all the madness of my life, and I suspect you are going to be a great comfort to me in the coming months-when I will no doubt need your support in dealing with my father, and possibly a few spur-of-the-moment weddings."
Rebecca wet her lips. "I will do whatever I can to ease your burdens."
He inched a little closer. "And may I have permission to envision you riding to my rescue on a magnificent white horse?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Why would you need my permission to envision that?"
"Because you are naked on the horse." He squinted with humor, then laid a light, tender kiss on her lips.
"In that case, you have my consent."
He continued to gaze at her in the candlelight, then his expression became serious again. "Will you be able to forgive your father," he asked, "now that you know what really happened?"
"I am devastated to know what he did, but I shall have to find a way to forgive. I only wish I had known the whole story sooner. Perhaps I could have helped him do the right thing, and Rushton would never have had the power to bully him for so many years."
"Your father found his courage in the end. And none of it is your fault. You didn't know."
She felt a painful lump in her throat. "Everything you say is a help to me, Devon. You do ease my pain with your kindness. I am a lucky woman."
He ran a finger down her cheek, then kissed her again. "I am the lucky one. The most exciting, exquisite woman in the world fell straight into my lap. I will be forever grateful that I traveled through the forest that night four years ago, and that I was able to be your hero. I love you, wife."
He pressed his lips gently to hers and held her close in his arms all night long, until sunlight shone through the window in the morning. A clear, new day beckoned to them, and when they rose from bed and pulled the drapes open, there was not a cloud in the sky, nor a single drop of rain.
Rebecca, Devon, and Blake remained at Creighton Manor for a few days, long enough to see to the earl's funeral, which was a private family affair. He was entombed in the mausoleum on the hill, where all the Creighton earls had gone before him.
As for Creighton Manor, it belonged to Rebecca now, and she and Devon decided they would spend their summers in residence after the close of the London Season, and enjoy the autumn hunting season there as well. And when-God willing-they brought their children, they would deliver life and laughter back to those quiet, empty rooms.
Promising to return soon, Rebecca and Devon said goodbye to the servants and stepped into the Pembroke coach with Blake.