Inheriting Trouble: A Sweet Regency Romance (The Bequest Series Book 1)

by Wendy May Andrews

  Georgia’s heart was won by the youngster in that moment. “She sounds quite sensible to me. I think I would like her, too. Does she ever give you sweets?”

  The boy looked sideways at the earl, making Georgia laugh. “I probably shouldn’t have asked you such a personal question. I beg your forgiveness. Never mind that question. Have you started taking lessons yet?”

  Christopher looked grateful at her change of subject and seemed quite keen to discuss his lessons, launching into a description of all that he had already learned. After a few moments, Georgia laughed. “I am quite impressed. You must have started your lessons very early if you have learned so much already. Or you might be particularly brilliant.” His little chest puffed up over her words, causing her to want to laugh but she struggled not to burst the child’s fragile sensitivities.

  By then they had arrived in the Park, which was virtually deserted in comparison to the last time she had been there with the earl. But Georgia barely noticed, so engrossed was she with the small boy. When she finally realized where they were, she grinned at him. “Are you familiar with this park, Christopher?”

  He again glanced nervously at the earl, but she was glad to see he was growing less uncomfortable and quickly nodded in reply to her question.

  “Do you have a favourite spot?”

  His nod was more enthusiastic now. “Feeding the ducks on the river.”

  “Oh that does sound delightful, but I didn’t think to bring any crumbs.” Both she and the boy turned to look at the earl.

  “Don’t look at me. I don’t have any bread either,” he grumbled but didn’t look nearly as tense as he had when he had handed her into the carriage.

  “Perhaps the ducks won’t be too upset with us if we stop by to have a look at them even with empty hands. We shall just apologize to them and promise to bring twice as much next time we come. Can you show me where they are?”

  The youngster was gazing at Georgia with adoration, clearly enjoying the adult attention from someone other than the servants. His vigorous nod nearly shook the barouche, and Georgia’s clear laugh rang out. Christopher pointed in the appropriate direction and with a subtle exchange between the earl and the driver they set off to find the ducks.

  ~~~

  Crispin was feeling decidedly unnerved. Surprisingly, he was enjoying the presence of the boy and was fascinated with the young woman beside him. Her interested questions were drawing out the child in a way that he had never witnessed, and his answers were showing the boy to be an intelligent, polite youngster. One that any man should be proud to lay claim to. As Georgia had pointed out, whether he was truly his son or not, the boy was his heir, and he really ought to take a hand in raising him. Crispin wanted to resent her interference in his life but was feeling strangely relaxed in both their presence. What he did find himself resenting was Georgia’s obvious preference for the child over himself. Crispin would never have thought himself capable of being jealous of a five-year-old, but here he was watching the byplay between Miss Holton and young Christopher and wishing he could somehow be a part of it.

  When his driver pulled the barouche to a standstill off to the side of the road, under a large tree, he quickly stepped down and turned to help the other occupants. The boy politely waited while Miss Holton stood, took Crispin’s hand and quickly alighted. Turning to Christopher, Crispin found himself holding his breath to see how the boy would react to his offer of help. When they had climbed silently into the barouche before leaving to collect Miss Holton, the boy had done so without assistance, avoiding any unnecessary contact with the foreboding earl glowering at his side. Now, despite his nervous glances, he was smiling eagerly, and Crispin found it endearing. He hated to admit that Miss Holton was right, but it really wasn’t the boy’s fault whatever his mother might have done. Crispin resolved to do better in future for the youngster.

  But Georgia could obviously not read his mind. Having no idea of his change of heart, she continued to ignore him in favour of the boy, and the two held hands, walking ahead of him toward the water. Crispin trailed in their wake.

  The two in front of him appeared to be enraptured with the ducks that were quacking rather urgently at them. They were sorely disappointed when the birds swam away after realizing their spectators had empty hands. Crispin felt like laughing over their equally dejected faces. Despite her obvious maturity, Miss Holton could be almost childlike at times. He was reminded that the chit was really barely out of the schoolroom despite her almost mother-like air at times. He was swept with the urge to protect them both.

  His stomach clenched when he realized the direction of his thoughts. He quickly shoved the unwelcome thoughts away. While he would do better for the child in the future, he had absolutely no desire to become attached to another woman. He had his heir. He had no need for another despite the usual expectation of having a spare. Women were not to be trusted, he reminded himself once again.

  “I think you are getting much too close to the edge, both of you. Since your feathered friends are apparently too fickle, what say you to a trip to Gunther’s?”

  Georgia’s eyes lit up, but the boy merely looked confused. “What’s Gunther’s?” he asked, turning to Georgia.

  She threw a glare at Crispin quickly before bending down to answer the boy’s question. “Gunther’s is the most delightful place. I have not yet had the pleasure of visiting there yet, either, but I have heard they have every sweet you could ever have imagined. My mouth nearly waters just at the thought of it. We shan’t know what to choose, I am sure of it.”

  The boy looked puzzled still but was enraptured with Miss Holton, so he followed her lead and turned away from the river without further argument.

  Crispin had to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent laughter when he watched Georgia trying to divide herself between glaring at him for his negligence toward the child while still smiling encouragingly at the boy.

  “What is your favourite kind of dessert, Cristopher?”

  “I don’t eat dessert.” The boy’s soft reply was followed by a brief but heavy silence.

  “Do you not have a sweet tooth?”

  “I don’t really know what that means, Miss, but I am not allowed to eat sweets. I’m not sure if I should come with you to this Gunther’s place.”

  The look of bewilderment on Georgia’s face made Crispin again want to comfort her. However, he resisted the urge to put his arm around her with some effort.

  “Who told you that you aren’t allowed? I am most certain the earl here is responsible for you, so if he offers to take you somewhere, you can be sure that you are allowed to go.”

  The serious little boy thought this through for a moment. “My governess says sweets will rot my teeth and the earl will never like me if I have no teeth.” He whispered the words to Georgia while darting his gaze toward the earl.

  Crispin didn’t feel so much like laughing anymore. He could see how his churlish behavior toward the boy was damaging to him. Hopefully the situation was not irredeemable. He hesitated, trying to think of something to say to ease the awkward situation. He needn’t have worried. With Miss Holton present, awkward situations didn’t stand a chance.

  “Do you not clean your teeth every night before you go to bed?”

  “Of course I do, Miss. I never forget. I’m a big boy now.” His little chest puffed up with these words.

  “Well then, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. As long as you spend a little extra time tonight on your teeth you should be perfectly fine.” She paused for a moment before leaning forward and whispering to the boy. “I shan’t tell your governess and as long as you look after your teeth, she need not ever know.”

  Christopher’s wide gaze examined Georgia’s face to gauge her sincerity. Seemingly satisfied with whatever he saw there, he then turned his serious face toward the earl and spoke to him directly for the first time. “Are you truly going to give me sweets, my lord?”

  “I truly am.”

&
nbsp; The boy broke out into a grin. It transformed his face. Crispin’s stomach turned over when he realized how very much the youngster resembled his late wife. He turned his gaze to the passing scenery. Miss Holton quickly took over the conversation.

  “Now Christopher, I do have to add, though, that while we are going to keep this little secret from your governess, it is only an exception because you are with the earl. In the usual run of things, you do have to listen to whatever guidance your governess gives you. Do you agree?”

  The boy’s serious gaze was back focused on her. “I suppose so.”

  “The earl is your guardian, so he has the final say in all matters. If he is not present, he has delegated that authority to her. Does that make sense to you?”

  Christopher nodded but then asked, “For how long?”

  “Do you mean, how long do you have to obey the governess?”

  The boy shrugged. “How long do I have to have a governess?”

  “That you will have to take up with the earl. Perhaps you will eventually get a tutor or go to school, so you probably won’t always have a governess. But you will always have to listen to the earl or whoever he designates until you are all grown up.”

  He kept his intense focus on her face, not even flickering a glance toward the earl. “But why?”

  “Why do you have to do as the earl says?”

  He offered a lopsided shrug. “Why is he my guardian?”

  No laughter lurked anywhere in his soul now as Crispin watched the two other occupants of the barouche. He watched Georgia struggle to come up with an answer to the boy’s question. She swallowed down the tears that welled in her eyes briefly. Her hesitation was momentary and if he hadn’t been watching her so closely, he would have missed the emotions that flitted across her features. She quickly recovered, flicked a glance toward him, and then offered the boy a wide smile.

  “Because you are just that lucky, my young friend. If not for the earl being your guardian, you would not be sitting in this fine barouche on this lovely day heading toward the most delicious treats your mouth has ever experienced.

  The boy blinked for a moment, looked at the earl, and then brought his gaze back to Georgia’s animated face. His answering grin caused Crispin to release the breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding.

  The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. His two companions dithered over their selections, unable to decide on just one dessert, before finally agreeing to order two different things and sharing both. He was shocked to find that he enjoyed watching their excitement. If anyone had previously told him that taking a chit and a child to Gunther’s could be a good time, he would have told them they were in their cups. But he here was, stone cold sober, and delighting in the simple pleasure of giving someone else joy.

  Crispin rather thought he had never actively contributed toward another person’s joy before. It was a singular experience. One he would like to have again, he realized with a little bit of awkwardness. He barely tasted his own treat. He hadn’t much cared what he ordered, more interested in watching his companions. When they finished their own desserts and then eyed his, he couldn’t help his laughter as he slid his plate toward them.

  “Have at it. I am quite content with my coffee.”

  They both wore guilty expressions but didn’t wait for him to take back his offer. They made quick work of finishing off the last of the sweets.

  With a sinking feeling, Crispin realized it was time to return Miss Holton to her home. He wished the afternoon could stretch on into eternity but shook his head at that ridiculous thought. He tried to summon his usual reminder that women were not to be trusted but couldn’t muster much enthusiasm for the sentiment. Christopher had certainly grown attached to her quickly, and the earl didn’t think the boy trusted anyone. Crispin had the sneaking suspicion that he had already given the girl his trust. He certainly had never introduced his heir to anyone else of his acquaintance before. He barely acknowledged the boy’s existence with anyone else, yet here he was spending time with the two least likely people he had ever encountered. And enjoying himself. It was a fact to cause marvel.

  “Well, this has been the best afternoon I’ve yet had since coming to London,” Miss Holton was saying, her warm attention focused on the child. “I dearly enjoyed making your acquaintance, Christopher. Thank you for sharing my first taste of Gunther’s with me.”

  The boy’s grin stretched around only a little bit of chocolate. With a chuckle, Miss Holton grabbed a napkin and wiped his face quickly. He didn’t even have a chance to protest before it was over. She leaned in and excused her behaviour. “It would not do to have your governess see the evidence, now would it?”

  They shared another grin before the chit stood and once again proved that she had very little use of him. “My lord, it has been a pleasure, but I truly must be getting home. Ought I to walk from here?”

  Crispin felt the heat climbing into his cheeks. As though I would allow her to walk, he thought with indignation. “Of course not, Miss Holton. We will see you home.”

  “Very well, but if it is not too inconvenient, it would be best if we make haste, as the hour is advancing.”

  He had to laugh over her managing ways.

  Georgia and Christopher chattered away as the earl sat quietly observing. He would never have thought the boy would display to advantage, but in Miss Holton’s company he had blossomed into a becoming child. Crispin determined to ensure he spent more time in the child’s company in the future.

  When he was handing Georgia down from the carriage, he had tried to get her to commit to saving him a dance later that evening, but she refused to make any promises. “We shall see, my lord. If you end up in the same ballroom as me this evening and I have any room left on my dance card, I will consider placing your name there,” was all she would allow.

  He sat in the barouche and watched as she went up the stairs and into the house with an elegant, light step. When he straightened around, he was surprised to find himself caught by the youngster’s serious stare.

  “Will we ever see her again, my lord?”

  “I sincerely hope so.” Crispin gave the boy the truth.

  The boy sighed. “Me, too. Everything is better with her around, isn’t it?”

  Crispin was afraid the boy might be right but didn’t bother answering him. They rode in silence for a couple minutes.

  “Thank you for the treats today, my lord. Henny said I wasn’t to get my expectations riled up that you would want to spend time with me another day, but thank you for today anyway.”

  The earl was humbled by the child’s mature words but angered by the embarrassing truth in them. He rather thought the boy might be in need of a new governess.

  “You are quite welcome, Christopher. It was far more enjoyable than I expected as well.”

  They were quiet for another brief space while Crispin thought despairingly that he had no idea what to discuss with the boy. He hadn’t paid that close attention when Georgia was talking to him; he had been absorbing the experience rather than taking in the details.

  “Do you like your governess, Christopher?”

  The boy shrugged. “Not particularly. Your cook is much nicer than my governess. Nurse is nice, but Henny says I’ll soon be too old to keep her. And the maids and footmen are pretty nice, too. They let me follow them around if I can get away from Henny. It’s more interesting when we’re in the country because the grooms there let me help them with the horses. Here, the grooms won’t let me even look at the horses.”

  Crispin blinked, surprised that he had volunteered so much information. “Well, my horses could be dangerous.”

  “I know. I’m pretty sure that’s how my mother died.” He didn’t seem particularly troubled by that fact, but Crispin felt horrified by the child’s words.

  “What do you know about it?”

  “Not much.” Now the boy looked as though he were about to shrink back into the silent shell he had been in before t
he transforming presence of Miss Holton.

  “You needn’t be afraid of talking to me, Christopher,” Crispin felt compelled to say, hoping to reassure the child. Georgia had been right after all. Whatever had gone on between the earl and his late wife was not this child’s fault. Legally, the boy was his son. It was possible he was, in fact. But since Crispin was well aware that his wife had been incapable of fidelity, he had always questioned the boy’s paternity. Now he saw that it didn’t matter. The boy was his heir. He deserved to be treated as the cherished son of the House of Crossley.

  Feeling as though a load had been lifted off his chest, Crispin felt a bubble of gratitude welling up from within him toward Miss Holton. He was all the more indebted to her. The earl resolved to dance with her that night and tell her so.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Georgia was relieved to learn from the footman that Vicky had not yet returned. She ran up to their shared room, shut the door quietly behind her, and then sank down to the floor in a heap of petticoats. She was exhausted. Her emotions felt as though they had been trampled on by his lordship’s large horses.

  She had felt every feeling she could possibly name. Her heart went out to the small boy. His quiet acceptance of his unfortunate circumstances made her want to weep. And the earl’s treatment of the child made her want to become violent. But the earl’s kindness that afternoon, his patience while she and Christopher had such trouble deciding what to order, and his handsome face, and warm chuckle, had made it particularly difficult to hold onto her anger with him. When she wasn’t fighting the urge to hit him, she had to fight the opposing urge to throw herself into his arms and tell him she could help him make it all better.