Randolph Baldwin Wheatly—plain mister though he boasted an earl and a duke among his nearest family—prowled, ill at ease, in the anteroom of the Winshire Mansion waiting for the duchess’s favor. She was, he had been told, engaged in some sort of charity project, one of her innumerable works, but she would see him.
The more he paced the more foolish his errand seemed. He had been here on more vital errands before, and yes, he had been summoned for a chastising from Her Grace more than once in his life. His purpose today might puzzle or confuse the lady, although if you had asked him a year ago he would have said he doubted anything could do that.
“Mr. Wheatly, Her Grace will see you now,” the young lady who had greeted him announced.
Rand cleared his throat and tugged on his formal waistcoat. Even properly dressed with his hair trimmed by the earl’s valet he suspected he still looked more mountain man than proper English gentlemen, the result of too many years in a reclusive cabin in Upper Canada. What can’t be fixed must be endured. The duchess will have to take me as I am.
“Rand, this is a surprise.” A few graceful movements on the duchess’s part and he found a delicate porcelain cup in his hand, the aroma of tea tickling his nose. After a few months in England he’d become used to the stuff again.
“How can I help you?” Her Grace asked. “I thought your efforts in Bristol went well. Are congratulations in order?”
“No she’s— You mean the investigation? Yes. The entire operation has been shut down and the Duke of Sudbury is seeing to the conspirators.”
“But your personal endeavors…” the duchess peered at him sympathetically.
“Meggy is at Songbird Cottage, if that is what you wish to know. Charles is nearby watching over her while I keep my distance. I can’t guess the outcome.”
“Sadly, we often can’t. The future always includes surprises.”
“Actually,” he said, “The future is what I came about. You will think me fanciful, but my sister Catherine thought you might help.”
“What exactly does the Countess of Chadbourn think I can tell you about the future? I am not an oracle.” She seemed amused.
“Since returning from Bristol, I’ve had nightmares. Armies moving over a hellish landscape scraped clean of vegetation, trees with no branches or leaves on them, andmen lying in holes in the ground. The guns and the cannon are like nothing I’ve ever seen before, as if factories will begin to mechanize war beyond our understanding. I fear I’ve seen a Great War in our future.”
“Nightmares indeed!”
“Do you believe it is real?”
“If it is, don’t fear it is the entire future. Remember the past contains its share of death and destruction as well, and yet mankind lumbers on. Love, faith, and family see us through.
“That’s the other thing,” Rand said. “There’s one man in particular. I heard someone call him Canadian. He has courage, determination, and strength yet he battles despair in the midst of it all. There’s a woman who gives him hope to go on I think.”
A beatific smile came over the old woman’s face. “Love, faith, family,” she repeated.
“The thing is, he looks like me,” Rand said. “He’s a Wheatly. Could he be my son or grandson?”
“Or a great-great if your dreams are true, but yes, I think so,” she mused. “Do you see what that means?”
He had no idea what she tried to tell him. His face wrinkled in the attempt to puzzle it out.
She signed deeply. “Don’t be dense, Rand, you’re a bright boy. It means you will return to Canada, and you will have a family there.”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t want one of mine to endure that horror.”
“We can’t protect the ones we love, Rand. Besides, you didn’t see the end. You have to believe he comes through it. You have to have hope.”
Rand Wheatly’s story, including the doings in Bristol and the outcome of his love for Meggy is told in The Renegade Wife.
As to that great-great grandson, Harry Wheatly will face the Great War in 1914. Christmas Hope tells his story.
About Christmas Hope
After two years at the mercy of the Canadian Expeditionary force and the German war machine, Harry ran out of metaphors for death, synonyms for brown, and images of darkness. When he encounters color among the floating islands of Amiens and life in the form a widow and her little son, hope ensnares him. Through three more long years of war and its aftermath, the hope she brings keeps Harry alive.
Rosemarie Legrand’s husband left her a tiny son, no money, and a savaged reputation when he died. She struggles to simply feed the boy and has little to offer a lonely soldier, but Harry’s devotion lifts her up. The war demands all her strength and resilience will the hope of peace and the promise of Harry’s love keep her going?
When the Great War is over, will their love be enough?
There are links and an excerpt here:
About the Author
Award winning author of historical romance usually set in the Regency and Victorian eras, Caroline Warfield reckons she is on at least her third act, happily working in an office surrounded by windows where she lets her characters lead her to adventures in England and the far-flung corners of the world. She nudges them to explore the riskiest territory of all, the human heart, because love is worth the risk.
Thank you, Your Grace, for encouraging Rand.