Though his captivity had been beastly, she suspected that some of the ways it had reshaped his life were good. Certainly any tendency he might have had toward arrogance had been knocked out of him.

The emotional damage would take more time to heal. She guessed that large groups of people would continue to distress him for some time to come, and the incident with Peter proved that his temper was still dangerously close to the surface.

But the foundation of his character was being rebuilt into a structure that was so solid that she need no longer worry about him. Not much, anyhow.

They emerged from the woods and saw a crowd of people gathered in the courtyard outside the entrance to the house. “Those are tenants and neighbors,” Grey exclaimed. “Good God, my father!”


Chapter 37

Grey kicked his horse into a blazing gallop toward the house. Cassie followed only a couple of strides behind, knowing he was right to be afraid. Head injuries were unpredictable, and even though the earl had seemed to be recovering, he might have taken a lethal turn for the worse. This sort of gathering is exactly what might happen when word went out through the neighborhood that a great and beloved man had died.

Thirty or forty people had gathered, but as Cassie drew nearer, she saw that the mood was festive rather than solemn. Yes, it was an impromptu party, with tables holding refreshments set up below the portico. Two men, one of them Peter, were dispensing tankards of drink from casks.

“Here he is!” A cry went up as Grey was spotted racing toward them. “Hip, hip, hooray! Hip, hip, hooray! Hip, hip, hooray!”

Cassie and Grey realized at the same moment that it was a welcome home party for the long-lost heir to Costain. Waving, Grey slowed his mount to a walk. When Cassie drew up beside him, he said quietly, “News of my miraculous return obviously spread fast. Most of the tenants and local villagers are here.”

His jaw was tight and she guessed that he was feeling crowd panic. “You could ride around the back and go into the house that way,” she suggested. “Then you could call out a greeting from one of the front windows.”

He shook his head. “Sommerses don’t do things like that. If they came here to show that they’re glad I’m alive, I can’t hide away. But please … stay close, Cassie.”

“Are you going to introduce me as your fiancée?” she asked warily. “This lie is spreading faster and faster.”

“I won’t if you’d rather I didn’t, but I’d be amazed if everyone here hasn’t already heard that my beautiful redheaded companion is the next Countess of Costain.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “For someone who has survived on quick wits and guile, you’re remarkably attached to the truth.”

She had to laugh. “Living a life of deception is the reason why I draw a very clear line between truth and lies whenever possible.”

People were pressing forward toward the riders, calling greetings to Grey. Cassie said under her breath, “You’ll feel less overwhelmed if you remain on horseback.”

“True,” he agreed, “but I can’t.”

He dismounted and took the hand of a broad, grizzled farmer who had tears in his eyes. This wasn’t a lord greeting a peasant. This was living proof of a community where the Sommerses of Summerhill were part of a greater fabric. The community had mourned Grey’s apparent death, and now the people celebrated his miraculous return.

The farmer said, “I knew those damned frogs couldn’t kill you!”

“They came very close, Mr. Jackson!” Grey called back.

A heavyset older woman enveloped him in a fierce hug. “Don’t you ever frighten me like that again! You’re not too old to be spanked, young man!”

“And you’re just the woman to do it,” he said with a grin as he hugged her back.

Despite Grey’s warm responses, Cassie saw that he was strung as tight as a harp string. She slid from her mount and moved to stand at his left shoulder. Two young boys emerged from the crowd and took the reins to the horses and led them away.

As Grey had requested, Cassie stayed close, but people were closing in around them, pressing closer and closer. Though the mood was happy, even Cassie grew nervous at the crowding. Concerned for Grey, she grabbed Peter’s arm when he joined them. Under her breath, she said, “Crowds upset him. Take his other side and keep people from getting too close.”

Peter’s brow furrowed. “Grey seems fine.”

“He isn’t!” she retorted. “Please, help him get more space.”

Accepting her word, Peter moved to Grey’s other side to form another barrier to the jostling crowd. Cassie took Grey’s arm. She whispered in his ear, “You need to help your frail fiancée into the house!”

“You, frail?” he said incredulously, but relieved. “A good excuse, though.”

He began to walk through the crowd, shaking hands and accepting hugs with his free arm as he continued to exchange greetings. On his other side, Peter intercepted well-wishers and deflected some of the excitement.

They reached the steps and climbed up to the portico. At the top, Grey turned and raised both hands for silence.

When the hubbub died down, he said in a voice that filled the courtyard, “I can’t describe how much it means to be welcomed home like this. For ten long years, I’ve dreamed of Summerhill. Of my family”—he clapped Peter on the shoulder—“and of my friends. Like you, Mrs. Henry, who made me work in your garden if I was to earn your wonderful gingerbread.”

The crowd laughed while a large woman called back, “Just this once I’ll send a batch to the big house to celebrate your homecoming!”

“If you forget, you’ll find me on your doorstep, hungry,” he promised. His gaze moved across the upturned faces. “I’d think about all the pretty Lloyd daughters. I see that there are two more now than when I left.” More laughter. He added, “Before I forget, I want to say that my father is recovering well from his accident, so you won’t have to deal with me for some time.”

More cheers and laughter. Cassie watched admiringly as Grey continued talking to his friends and neighbors with wit and charm. He truly was born to Summerhill. These people were proof of how generations of Sommerses had cared for their land and their tenants. How they loved, and were loved in return.

Her eyes stung from a mixture of emotions. Pride in Grey. Envy of his powerful sense of belonging. And regret that she would never see this connection between Grey and his community again, because it really was time for her to leave. Grey had everything he needed right here.

A voice called out, “Tell us what happened, Lord Wyndham, or we’ll make up stories that will curdle milk!”

“Can’t have that.” Grey hesitated. “The story is simple, really, and I have every intention of forgetting the details, so don’t ask me more. Ten years ago I was in Paris and I offended a high government official just as the Truce of Amiens ended. It was a chaotic time, so the official threw me into his own private dungeon out in the country. Ten years of one boring day after another, so there isn’t much to tell. When I finally escaped, I headed north and found a smuggler to bring me home. And here I am.”

“Who’s the lady?” a woman called. “Is she the next countess?”

Grey took Cassie’s hand and drew her forward with a whispered, “Sorry.” Turning to the crowd, he said, “This is Miss Catherine St. Ives of Norfolk, who helped me escape. I hope to persuade her to stay. Will you give her a Dorsetshire welcome?”

The crowd burst into roars and applause while Cassie blushed bright red. Damn her pale redhead’s complexion!

Grey waved a farewell. “Miss St. Ives is tired so I’ll say good-bye and thank you. I shall never forget this day.”

As soon as they were inside and the door closed behind them, he crushed her in his arms and shook. She felt his hammering heart against her breasts. “Thank you for rescuing me once again,” he said roughly. “The welcome was wonderful in theory, but I wouldn’t have lasted much longer without behaving badly.”

“I think you would have lasted as long as necessary.” She stroked a calming hand down his back. “But you’ve been tested enough for one day.”

Peter followed them in, closing the door behind him. “People obviously prefer you to inherit rather than me,” he said cheerfully. He sobered when he saw his brother’s strained face. “That really was hard on you! I thought Cassie was exaggerating.”

“She’s very good at keeping me from falling apart,” Grey said wryly, not letting Cassie go. “All those people just showed up? I was afraid it meant that Father had died.”

Peter winced. “That would look similar, wouldn’t it? When Mother saw tenants arriving, she sent me out to play host while she arranged for refreshments. I think half the reason people came was because this is the first real spring day we’ve had, and everyone wanted an excuse to celebrate.”

“So my return was the excuse.” Grey relaxed enough to end the embrace, though he kept an arm around Cassie. “And by coming here, they had a good shot at Summerhill cider and ale and probably Summerhill hams and cheeses as well.”

“An opportunity they took full advantage of,” Lady Costain said from above. She glided down the stairs, one hand on the railing and looking every inch a countess. “I was about to send out grooms to find you, Grey. But when you did return, you handled it all well. Your father was watching from his room.”

“He must be much stronger,” Grey said. “Which probably means he’ll be down for dinner tonight.”

His mother laughed. “Indeed he will. Since we have so much reason to be grateful, I decided that tonight we’ll have a special celebration feast just for the family. Elizabeth and her husband will join us. Catherine, do you have a favorite dish I should ask the cook to prepare?”