Page 68 of A Landscape of Love

“I went at once to see my brother, assuming it must be a mistake. For surely, he would not give up his own son to such a place? But it was no mistake,” she said, her voice cold and hard. “He was furious with me. Told me not to interfere. He was still indignant that your father had refused to let you marry. Fool that he was he’d assumed the duke must agree to it if you were ruined, but even with a child on the way, Beresford wouldn’t hear of it. Edward was not of blue enough blood to join such an elite family. The duke said he’d see you ruined before he allowed such a mesalliance.”

Hart snorted, finding some pleasure in knowing that their marriage would make the old devil wild with fury.

Fidelia nodded. “So, you went to meet him yourself,” she said in wonder, staring at Elmira with such gratitude Hart’s throat grew tight. “Thank God for you, Elmira. You saved my son at the cost of your own reputation and… and gave him love and a home. I can see that you did, for he adores you. He’s healthy and happy and… and… that’s all I ever wanted.”

She burst into tears again, sobbing so hard Hart could only hold on to her.

Elmira fidgeted as Fidelia wept, clearly uncertain what to do, what to say.

“My wife has had a wretched time over the past five years, Miss Hastings,” Hard said, needing the woman to realise how much it was costing Fidelia to give up her own hopes and dreams for the sake of her son’s happiness. “She pinned all her hopes on today, on finally having her boy with her again. I pray you understand the sacrifice she makes in leaving him with you?”

“You must see the truth of it, Mira,” Larkin said quietly. “Hart is as honest a man as you’ll ever meet. Can’t you give, just a little?”

Elmira nodded and got up, walking to stand beside Fidelia. “I’m sorry,” she said gravely. “So sorry for what you’ve endured. I didn’t understand.”

Fidelia gathered herself bravely, accepting the handkerchief that Hart offered her. “You have not a single thing to be sorry for. You sacrificed yourself, your good name, you gave up everything for my son. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for that.”

“I’d do it again,” Elmira said simply. “He is the greatest joy of my life. I’m so sorry, but… but I can’t let you take him from me. I’m his mother, you see, the only one he has ever known and—”

“I know,” Fidelia said, tears streaming down her cheeks. She took Elmira’s hand and held onto it tightly. “I saw with my own eyes how happy and loved he is. If I took him from you now, I should only inflict hurt and confusion and I would not hurt him for all the world. I have only ever wanted him to be loved and h-happy.”

“Oh, my dear,” Elmira said hoarsely, and threw her arms about Fidelia, the two women weeping and hugging each other tightly.

“Where is your brother now, Miss Hastings?” Hart asked, a dark note to his voice that no one missed.

Elmira’s lips quirked in a bitter smile as she looked up at him. “I’m afraid you’re too late if you were hoping to teach him a lesson. His grace managed that, after all. He fell ill last autumn while he was in India. The regiment sent him home, but he died on the voyage back to England.”

Hart nodded. “I can’t say I’m sorry.”

“No,” Elmira said. “Neither can I. Sad, isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry for you, though, Elmira. For your loss,” Fidelia said, with such obvious sincerity, Hart was astonished all over again by the generosity of the woman he had married. “I believe you were close once.”

“Once,” Elmira said with a nod. “But that was a long time ago. He was not the man I had thought he was. It was just a façade. Beneath there was no substance. I could neither love nor respect a man like that. I mourned the loss of the brother I thought I had known many years ago, but when I learned the truth of what he’d done to you, to his son, any lingering feelings of affection died.”

The two women looked at each other, and Hart saw the dawning respect in their eyes, the beginnings of a bond that made him hope for the future. Elmira smiled. “I always liked you, Fidelia, before that fateful letter arrived, at least. I was so shocked by that discovery, but I’m more than glad to know I wasn’t wrong about you after all.”

“Thank you,” Fidelia said, trying her best to return the smile, though Hart saw the pain in her expression and wondered how he could ever make it up to her.

Elmira hesitated before saying in a rush, “You can come and see him whenever you want.” There were tears in her eyes, and her voice was unsteady, but she was willing to be generous now she understood just what Fidelia was sacrificing. “Perhaps you could be Auntie Fidelia.”

Fidelia stared at her, her face alight with hope. “You would do that?”

Elmira nodded. “I would not be so cruel as to deprive you of your son entirely. If you think you could bear that?”

“Yes! Oh, yes.” Fidelia wiped away her tears, though more kept coming, streaming down her face, even as she smiled now. “Yes. Yes, please.”

Hart wondered if, in time, Elmira might allow the child to know the truth about his mother, but he was not fool enough to raise that hope yet. There was time, and they would be guided by the boy they both loved, and by what was best for him. He was a lucky child, to have two women love him so wholeheartedly.

Elmira nodded. “Good. That’s good.”

“Thank you,” Fidelia said again. “Thank you for everything.”

“You gave me a gift,” Elmira said. “It’s been hard at times, and frightening too, but I have experienced more love and happiness in the past five years than in all my life before that. I am sorry for the pain you’ve experienced, but I’m not sorry to have Arthur in my life.”

“Arthur?” Fidelia said, her voice trembling a little. “I n-named him Ambrose.”

“Oh.” Elmira looked at her with pity and regret shining in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I named him for my grandfather. He was a good man, an honourable one, and the only man I have ever esteemed. My father died when I was young, and he had the raising of us. He was the kindest person I have ever known.”