by Erica Taylor
“Did you marry someone else?” Grey asked Sarah.
“No, you imp,” Sarah chided. “He did.”
Grey’s mouth dropped open. “Well, that was very poorly done, your grace!”
Sarah giggled with the young earl. Seeing William set down by a ten year old was enchanting.
Grey and Gracie were whisked away by their aunt, sending the children outside to play with Abe, giving Sarah and William a quiet moment to visit with Lady Ensbrook alone.
“I’m sorry for his impertinence, your grace,” Lady Ensbrook said as the tea tray was brought in. “Ever since he realized he’s the earl, he’s been play-acting at authority.”
“It’s no bother,” William replied, pacing to the bow window, watching the children as they ran about, eager laughter drifting into the afternoon. “He’s had a lot to deal with. A little bit of impertinence isn’t anything to worry about.”
“I appreciate you taking the time to visit with him,” the countess said as she poured tea. Sarah waved off milk and sugar. “He needs some adult gentlemen in his life who can teach him by the example they set among the peerage.”
“I don’t know what good I will be in that regard,” William replied, not turning away from the window. “I am new to this peerage business as well.”
“All the more reason for him to look up to you,” Lady Ensbrook replied. “You are quite the hero in his eyes. You pulled him from a sinking carriage in a downpour. The way he talks about you, you’d think he’d been saved by a Greek hero from the classics!”
“Our very own Heracles,” Sarah teased.
“Ha,” William replied with a dry laugh. “If anything, Lady Ensbrook, you are the Oracle at Delphi.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Lady Ensbrook asked.
William turned and pierced her with an affecting stare. “You knew who I was when we met before,” he stated. “You claimed to recognize my face, though we had never met.”
“Well, I would know your face, son,” Lady Ensbrook replied. “I knew your father. Your natural father.”
“How is that possible?”
Lady Ensbrook patted the cushion of the settee beside her. “Best you have a seat.”
Without further word, William slowly lowered himself into the settee.
“I met your parents during my debut,” Lady Ensbrook began. “Your mother was Miss Amanda Gordon then, brought down from Scotland to find a fine English husband. Mandy and I met in line as we waited to make our bows to the queen, and again at my coming out ball. She was special, your mother. Country charm and a Scottish brogue, there was no doubt she would make a splendid match. Mandy did indeed find herself a fine gentleman, for she soon engaged herself to the new Duke of Foxton. Your uncle, James Hastings.”
“My mother was engaged to my uncle?” William asked, his brow furrowing darkly over his confused eyes.
“Will, let her tell the story,” Sarah said.
“You have it right,” Lady Ensbrook replied. “Mandy and James were mad for each other—you could not keep the two apart. Mandy ended up pregnant before the marriage, though it was not surprising from the way the two behaved. But before they could marry, James died in an accident, leaving Mandy pregnant and alone. The man you knew as your father, Collin Hastings, was James’s younger brother. Upon his brother’s death, he inherited the title, agreeing to marry his brother’s fiancée to protect the son she could be carrying.”
William’s eyes closed, and he shook his head slightly. “Of course he did.”
“Sounds familiar, eh?” Lady Ensbrook asked with a knowing nod. “Now, Collin had always been a brute of a boy, never a nice word for anyone, but he was always sweet on Mandy. She brushed him off as James’s younger brother, never really giving him the time of day. But when James died, and Collin offered to be her savior, she didn’t hesitate to accept. Your brother, Henry, Earl of Heathmont, was born not six months after their marriage, nine pounds and all Hastings, just not from the Hastings who was on record as his father.”
“How does my natural father fit into all this?” William asked.
Lady Ensbrook took a sip of her tea before replying.
“Your natural father was a friend of James Hastings, a good friend. His name was Alden. A charmer in his own right, and kind, he had a gentleness that women responded to. He and Mandy never had anything but a casual flirtation, as she only had eyes for James. But after James’s death, her marriage to Collin, and the birth of Henry, Mandy began to suspect something amiss with the whole situation. Something just never seemed right. She could never prove it, but Mandy was convinced Collin had killed James, or at least had a hand in his accident.”
“What sort of accident?” William asked.
“He was thrown from his horse,” Lady Ensbrook replied. “Broke his neck, they said. But it was a strange sort of thing, as he was in the barn at his hunting lodge when he was killed. The magistrate said he must have been thrown and landed against a stall wall.”
A cool shiver raced down William’s spine. It wasn’t the same manner in which Heathmont had died, but it was the same location. That couldn’t have been a coincidence, for father and son to die in the same place, could it?
“Mother thought the duke involved?”
Lady Ensbrook nodded. “She was fearful of him. Now I don’t know the particulars of those intermediate years between when Henry and you were born; I had my own marriage to contend with, and I was away from her for some time. But after you were born she came to me and told me that one night she had sought comfort in Alden’s arms and nine months later you were here.”
“It was only one night? But my father knew I wasn’t his,” William pressed. “How could he be sure?”
“Yes, boy, I’m getting to that,” Lady Ensbrook said, waving him off. “Mandy was pregnant when she married Collin, so they waited to consummate their marriage until after Henry was born. But by the time she had recovered from childbirth, Mandy was convinced of Collin’s fratricide and refused to allow him into her bed.” Lady Ensbrook looked up from her tea and offered a weak smile. “Over a year later she became pregnant with you, so Collin knew you were not his. But he was still resented your mother’s rejection, and saw an opportunity to coerce her into finally giving him what he’d wanted all along, so he made her a deal. He could throw her out and denounce her fatherless child as a bastard, or she could accept him as her husband and act as such. Mandy opted to allow you a life under the shield of the Duke of Foxton rather than as a bastard on the street. Better a bastard in assumption than in name.”
William pushed off from the settee and paced the room.
“After that, your mother became pregnant again, this time by Collin, and she died soon after delivering a stillborn baby girl. And that,” Lady Ensbrook said, “is the story of your mother and father.”
“Did he know?” William asked. “About me, I mean. Did this Alden know about me?”
“That I don’t know for certain,” Lady Ensbrook admitted. “Mandy never confirmed if she had told him or not. But you can ask him yourself.”
William spun around, eyes wide. “You know where he is?”
“He’s in London,” Lady Ensbrook replied. “His name is Lord Alden Goodwin. He’s the son of the Marquess of Worthington.”
William stood frozen, mostly in shock, but in horror, in fear. His father, his true father, was in London? And he was a lord?
His eyes found Sarah’s. “Can we go?” he asked. “Now, can we go now?”
Sarah rose and stepped closer to him. “Take a deep breath, Will. This is a lot to take in. Of course you would want to meet him, but he might not know about you. Or he might know and not want to meet with you—after all, he’s made no effort to contact you.”
William shook his head, running a hand across the back of his head. “I need to meet him.”
“And we can figure that out when we return to London,” Sarah replied. “Foremost, we send a note, asking for permi
ssion to call. You cannot just appear on someone’s doorstep and demand to know if they are your birth parent. It would be poorly done.”
William smirked. “Ever the proper lady. Whatever would I do without you to remind me of the rules?”
“I suppose you would survive,” Sarah replied. “Though with uncouth manners, as though you were raised in a barn. Or in Scotland.”
William paced across the room to the window. What he needed was whisky. Or someone’s leg to amputate. Something to clear his mind.
“I think I will take a walk,” William decided, hoping the exercise would serve as a distraction, a chance to sort out the muddle of thoughts racing through his head.
He bowed to each lady before quitting the room, eager to return to London and find the man who should have been his father from the start. He only hoped Lord Alden would feel the same way.
Sarah watched William leave the room, and hoped the meeting with his father would not be a disaster. The name was familiar, as was the title, but that was as far as her knowledge of them went. William had already suffered enough at the hands and manipulations of one father; he did not need another to let him down.
Her love for that man was unnerving. It just would not do.
Repositioning herself to sit beside the countess, Sarah managed a sheepish smile.
“I hope my query does not seem offensive, my lady,” Sarah began. “But I am in need of some advice. You said before that you had a one-week affair. It is impolite of me to ask, but how did you get over such a thing?”
“Simple,” Lady Ensbrook said with a laugh. “I married him.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Lady Sarah, I had an all-encompassing passionate love affair, and it lasted for one week. At the end of the week, we eloped.”
Sarah was stunned. “Ensbrook was the man you told me about?”
The countess nodded, patting Sarah’s hand. “Ensbrook and I were married for thirty years before he passed. We were blessed with three beautiful children, five darling grandchildren. He was the love of my life. I know it may seem like hope is lost, but take heart Lady Sarah. Love finds away.”
“It seems there is no way for William and I to be together,” she stated.
Lady Ensbrook shrugged. “Your story together is not over yet.”
They left for London the following morning, the entire trip spent in a companionable silence. Sarah turned Lady Ensbrook’s words over in her mind, and one glance to William told her he was doing the same, though a different conversation.
William sent ahead a note to his birth father asking for permission to call, though he didn’t indicate he would actually wait for permission. The note arrived in town scarcely twelve hours before they did, but a message was awaiting them when they returned to London, asking William to call the following day.
William begged her to accompany him when he called. Sarah wanted to refuse, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. Seeing him put to rights would help when she was gone from his life. Knowing he had family and people to make him happy would suffice.
The Mayfair home of Lord Alden Goodwin was nondescript, with white stones flanked with windows stretching a few stories into the sky. She wouldn’t have noticed it while driving past, and yet it was only six blocks from Hastings House in Grosvenor Square.
William’s grip on Sarah’s hand tightened as the door swung open, the butler glancing at William in surprise.
“Good afternoon,” William said pleasantly, his calm a thick facade against the turmoil Sarah could practically feel rallying inside him. He produced a card from his jacket pocket. “Foxton for Lord Alden Goodwin.”
The butler accepted the card with a glance at the writing, before his eyes grew large and he stepped aside with a gallant bow. “Your grace, welcome.”
Sarah entered behind William, stepping into the front foyer of the home. The interior was beautifully appointed, not nearly as grand as Bradstone and Hastings′ Houses respectively, but it still held an impressive air. They followed the butler to a drawling room on the first floor. As the doors opened, a man and woman rose from their places on the settee.
Sarah felt William’s posture stiffen at the sight of the man before them— tall and broad shouldered, having retained his fine looks even though he was in his fifties or sixties. He had the same blond hair as William, their faces were shaped the same: identical noses, brow, and mouth. The only discernible difference was their eye color.
With a glance at Sarah, William bowed to the man and woman; Sarah followed suit with a quick curtsy.
“Foxton,” the man said, bending in his own bow.
“Lord Alden,” William said formally. “Allow me to introduce my good friend, Sarah Hartford, Lady Radcliff.”
“My wife, Lady Alden,” Lord Alden said. “We were pleased to receive your letter. Please, sit. Tea?”
Sarah accepted a cup, simply for the warmth and comfort the drink offered.
There was a long, somewhat awkward pause; it made Sarah’s skin crawl. William and Lord Alden simply stared at each other, neither wanting to speak first.
“When we were first told such an incredible story, it seemed too amazing to be true,” Sarah began, her cheerfulness cutting through the uncomfortable silence. “But being here now, and seeing you, Lord Alden, can only confirm its validity.”
“If you are referring to Foxton’s obvious parentage, yes, we can be certain of that,” Lady Alden replied. Looking at her husband, she added, “There is no doubt he is your son, Alden.”
“It is true then?” William inquired. “What Lady Ensbrook said?”
“Ensbrook?” Lord Alden asked in surprise. “You’ve met with Josette?”
William nodded. “The Dowager Countess of Ensbrook had some grand tales about my mother and gave your name to follow up.”
“Best start from the beginning, dear,” Lady Alden said and took her husband’s hand.
Lord Alden paused and looked at William directly. “Let me be clear, your mother was a dear friend and I loved her, but there was nothing romantic between us. Our night together just . . . happened.” He glanced awkwardly to Sarah and then to his wife.
Lady Alden laughed lightly. “I suspect Lady Radcliff might know where babies come from, dear. You needn’t be shy about it.”
“My apologizes, Lady Radcliff,” Lord Alden began but Sarah waved him off.
“None are needed, my lord,” Sarah said offering a reassuring smile. “We heard most of this from Lady Ensbrook, but there are some holes Foxton would like filled.”
“Did you know about me?” William asked the man directly.
With an unwavering gaze, Lord Alden nodded. “Amanda told me as soon as she learned she was pregnant, but we knew there was nothing to be done about it. She had to tell Collin, and Collin was not pleased. She had denied him any marital rights and yet sought my bed. He agreed to claim you as his and give you his name with the agreement that I was never to contact you and you were never to know my name. Also, Amanda had to be his wife in truth.”
Lord Alden looked away. “It was difficult, but the alternative was to leave you a bastard in name as well as birth, and have you stripped of all resources simply for your mother’s and my mistake. We agreed to his terms as our way of protecting you.
“Amanda was never truly happy, of course, and during this time Collin had his own affairs, one resulting in a child, a son. This enraged Collin, as he had two sons by name and one bastard, but none that were of both his name and his blood. Your mother became pregnant again for the last time, the birth that ultimately claimed her life and that of the babe. From there, you know the rest.”
“I was ten when Mother died,” William picked up the place in the timeline. “I went to live with my mother’s family in Scotland. There was never any mention of you, though I knew I was not my father’s son. I was not aware of Heath’s parentage, however, until Lady Ensbrook disclosed as much. I suppose that he was Hasting
s blood, and that was good enough to spare him some of the ire I always triggered from our father.”
“Lady Alden and I married a year after you were born,” Lord Alden continued. “I am the third son of the Marquess of Worthington, and I have two brothers and four nephews ahead of me, so there is little chance of my inheriting my father’s title. It is a relief to know you are well, and that it was you who inherited James’s title in the end. He was a true friend of mine, and his death was devastating to us all.”
“You have half siblings,” Lady Alden added.
William started, blinking at her dumbly. “I have siblings?”
Lady Alden nodded. “We were blessed with three children. Janet is the eldest, she is but two years younger than you, and is married now to the Earl of Colthurst.”
“I know Janet Goodwin,” Sarah said, the name ringing in recognition. “Well, Faraway now. She came out the year after me.”
“Laurence is a year after her and recently became engaged,” Lady Alden continued. “David is two years after him.”
“You are married?” Lord Alden asked glancing at Sarah.
William’s jaw clenched. “I am. In much the same fashion as it seemed my father married my mother. It was my father’s dying wish I marry the woman I was told was Heath’s pregnant fiancée, and make their child legitimate. It was not until after the wedding that I discovered she was not his fiancée and there is a strong chance the child she carries is not my brother’s. But unfortunately now I am trapped. Lady Radcliff,” William paused and looked at Sarah, his expression gentle but clouded by everything he wanted to say. “Sarah is a very dear friend whom I met at just the right and wrong time.”
“It sounds like an unfortunate predicament,” Lady Alden replied.
“I am happy to learn I have siblings,” William said, turning the conversation away from Sarah and whatever they were to each other. Nothing. Everything. Sarah didn’t want to answer those questions. The answers didn’t matter. “Though I cannot imagine they are eager to know me.”