Although Stephen had thought the ballroom at Lord Weatherstone’s mansion a bastion of elegance and light, he was nearly blinded by the glitter that decorated Worthington House. Surfaces shined, lights blazed, metallic threads gleamed and jewels reflected it all in brilliant stars and streaks of light as they made their way through the vestibule and into a parlor.
“Bellingham?”
The word had Stephen turning to regard an older gentleman he was quite sure he had never met before. Damn, he thought, realizing he wasn’t going to get away with acting in his brother’s stead at this particular event. “His brother, actually,” Stephen replied as he held out his right hand. “Stephen Slater.”
“Ah, the bastard!” the man said as he gripped Stephen’s hand in one of the firmest handshakes Stephen had ever experienced. “Milton Grandby. I suppose I’m...” He paused a moment, his bushy eyebrows furrowing into a single caterpillar on his forehead.
“The Earl of Torrington?” Stephen suggested, wanting to ensure he had the right Grandby in mind. His father was right to bet the man would call him ‘Bellingham’. One-hundred pounds!
Grandby gave him a quelling glance. “Well, that, too, I suppose, but more importantly I am your... uncle,” he managed to get out as he continued to study Stephen. “By marriage, of course, and a godfather to your brother. Call me Grandby. If you call me ‘Torrington,’ I’ll ignore you. Where is Will, by the way?”
Stephen couldn’t suppress the grin he felt at the earl’s expense, realizing the man must have imbibed in a rather good brandy prior to the start of the affair. Although Grandby didn’t seem drunk, he did seem rather more excited than he should have at meeting his bastard nephew-by-marriage. Stephen leaned toward the earl and said in a quiet voice, “He’s gone to Oxfordshire to find his true love. And pay a call on our sister,” he added with a nod.
Grandby furrowed his brows again, his manner suddenly all business. “I wasn’t aware he had already decided which chit that would be. He certainly didn’t waste any time.”
Stephen thought to reply with “Eight years,” but thought better of it. He didn’t know enough about the situation to comment on it.
“Who’s the gel?”
Noting the earl’s sudden sobriety, Stephen blinked. “Lady Barbara Higgins,” he offered. “He... offered for her hand before he left London and now is determined to make her his wife.”
The earl arched an eyebrow. “I remember her. Haven’t seen her in an age—”
“Apparently, no one has, my lord,” Stephen said, keeping his voice low. He thought perhaps a change in subject was required. “I understand congratulations are in order. The marchioness said your countess recently gave birth to twins.”
The earl grinned and waved his hand for Stephen to follow him as he turned and made his way up the grand staircase from the main hall. “They’re your cousins, so it’s high time you meet them. Once they start walking, there will be no catching them.”
A bit hesitant at leaving the growing throng of guests congregating in several rooms off the parlor, Stephen followed the earl up the grand staircase to the next floor and into a well-appointed nursery. A nurse immediately stood and curtsied, although she did so with a babe sitting on her hip. The other twin was sitting on the floor, a rattle gripped in one fist and his other stuffed in his mouth. Surrounded by dozens of toys—wooden blocks, wheeled carts, and puzzle pieces—the boy appeared a bit overwhelmed. At the sight of Milton Grandby, though, both babies began giggling and gurgling, their expressions of happiness so infectious, Stephen was forced to chuckle.
The earl took the girl from the nurse and settled her into the crook of one arm. “This is Lady Angelica,” he said as he proudly displayed the pink gown-garbed cherub. He kissed his daughter’s temple before he pointed toward the floor, “And that’s my heir, Lord George.”
Unsure of the protocol for greeting aristocratic babies, Stephen merely treated them as he would their adult counterparts. He helped himself to Angelica’s hand and brushed his lips over the back of it, eliciting a giggle from the tot before she grinned and pulled her hand away. For a moment, he was struck at how tiny were her fingers, at how perfect her fingernails appeared, how her light blonde hair curled into a golden halo around her head. He imagined her as his own daughter, being held by Victoria, nursing at her breast. Smiling at him as he took her hand and kissed the back of it.
He had to give his head a shake to clear it of the odd thought.
“It’s very good to make your acquaintance, Cousin Angelica,” he said formally. Finally tearing his attention from the attentive babe, he turned to regard his male cousin. He bowed to George, who bobbed his head in response but reached up with both hands, as if he, too, wanted to be held. Stephen dared a glance in Grandby’s direction before he dodged several toys and lifted the boy up and over his head, holding him nearly upside down as the baby squealed and screeched. Stephen was only slightly aware of the nurse’s expression of shock at seeing the heir to the Torrington earldom in midair, his bare feet suddenly on display as they emerged from beneath his gown. Stephen lowered the happy tot when he realized the boy’s screeches could probably be heard in the parlor below.
He didn’t need the boy’s mother making an appearance when she was the hostess of the event.
My aunt, he reminded himself.
Chapter 37
A Brother and Sister Share Their Tales
Back in Oxfordshire
“I suppose you think the worst of me,” Will said as he and Hannah made their way to the stables. He wanted to check on Thunderbolt to be sure the horse wasn’t having a fit being handled by someone he didn’t know. Hannah had ordered water for bathing to be taken up to Barbara’s bedchamber so that she might take a bath before dinner, and Will knew his presence wouldn’t be welcome whilst she bathed. He hoped to do the same thing before dinner, the odor of horse and musk becoming more apparent as the day proceeded.
“What are you implying?” Hannah wondered, her brows furrowing.
Her brother took several more steps before he finally responded. “I didn’t know Barbara was with child when I left London. She never mentioned anything about being with child in the few letters she sent me,” he murmured in a low voice. “But if she had, I most assuredly would have made arrangements to marry her,” he claimed, not quite sure how he could have done so. The HMS Drake was rarely near British shores the first year he was aboard, but he might have taken a leave and caught a packet back to England.
“I know,” Hannah nodded, thinking her brother intended to tell her something else. “But that’s not why you wanted to talk with me. Is it?” she countered.
Will sighed, realizing he just wanted a few minutes alone with his sister. He hadn’t had the opportunity to spend much time with her when he was in England for their mother’s funeral. Indeed, he was only in town for two days, and back then, he hadn’t yet known about Stephen. But where to start? There was so much to tell!
“Before I started my tour—a year before, in fact, when I was home from the academy for a month or so—”
“I remember,” Hannah interrupted. “You might have been in London, but you certainly didn’t spend the time at Devonville House,” she accused with a lifted brow.
Will nodded his agreement. “True. I was... old enough to spend the nights away from home but too young to know I should have spent them in the company of my family,” he murmured. “Mother was still alive back then,” he added with a shake of his head. “You had just started finishing school at Warwick’s.”
“And Father was spending most of his nights at home by then,” Hannah interrupted, a wan smile touching her lips. “That was the best time.”
“That’s because his mistress had married, and her husband couldn’t abide sharing her, even with a marquess,” Will countered with an arched eyebrow. He suddenly stopped in his tracks, one palm slapping his forehead. “Jesus, I cannot believe I just said that in your company—”
“It’s all right,�
� Hannah claimed with a shake of her head. “I knew far more than I should have back then.” At Will’s look of curiosity, she added, “Mother told me all about Marie St. Clair.”
Will resumed walking, almost curious enough to ask what else Hannah might have learned about their father’s mistress. About their parents. About their bastard brother.
“There is a reason our brother looks so much like me,” he announced suddenly.
Hannah angled her head, attempting to see her brother’s face. But when he turned to look at her, she found only a passive expression. “I did not know he did,” she replied with a shrug, a reminder that she hadn’t yet met their bastard brother. “Do you mean in his eyes or the color of his hair or—?”
“Everything,” Will responded with a nod. “He looks like he could be my identical twin.” At Hannah’s look of doubt, he added, “I swear. The two of us would play tricks on the crew, him giving orders as if he were me, and the men believed him to be me and followed them,” he said with a wry smile. “Even you would be hard pressed to tell us apart.”
Hannah arched an eyebrow. “Since I have not seen you for nearly four years, I have no reason to doubt your claim,” she agreed. “Which means you could be Stephen come to play a trick on me,” she reasoned, suddenly wondering if perhaps this man was Stephen Slater and her brother was still back in London. But Will knew far too much about her. About what she had been through as an unmarried chit in London. Things only he would know from her frequent letters.
Will allowed a chuckle. “You have a point. I didn’t think of that.”
“Why is it, then, that you believe Stephen shares your good looks?” she wondered, thinking her brother must have spent some time in front of a looking glass if he thought he shared the guise of another man.
One of Will’s hands went to his chest, the fingers splayed out over his topcoat as he threw back his head and laughed. “Leave it to my sister to raise my poor spirits,” he said happily.
Hannah didn’t respond, anxious to hear why Will and Stephen looked so much alike, but rather dismayed at hearing Will thought himself low in spirit. When she lifted her brows in query, Will sobered quickly.
“Father’s mistress looked exactly like our mother.”
Hannah blinked and stopped walking, her brother’s words repeating themselves in her head. “How could you know such a thing?” she asked in alarm.
Shrugging, Will stepped in front of Hannah and regarded her for a moment. “I met her. I paid a call on the residence where she was a guest whilst I was home that one month. One of my friends from the Academy, Rufus Kincaid, had asked that I pay a call and deliver a gift to his mother, so I already had an excuse to be there.”
Hannah blinked, momentarily stunned by her brother’s words. “You did not!” she whispered hoarsely.
Will sighed. “I admit, it was done with poor judgement—”
“Had you already met Stephen by then?” she wondered, curious as to why he would pay a call on the woman who was Stephen’s mother.
“No,” Will assured her. “I knew of him, of course, but I was merely curious as to what Father saw in this woman who had taken him away from us for too long,” he explained. “I was... angry with her, I suppose,” he added with a shake of his head.
Hannah lowered her eyes, understanding her brother’s reasons. “And?”
Will allowed a shrug. “She agreed to see me. Hosted me in the parlor at Kincaid’s house. Offered me tea,” he said sadly. “And the whole time, all I could think about was how much it was like having tea with Mother.”
Hannah stared at Will for a very long time. “Is she... related to our mother?” she asked, her stomach threatening to cast up her accounts, and not just because she was expecting another child.
Had her Father taken the woman as a mistress because...?
“I didn’t ask, but given she was born and raised in France, I rather doubt it,” he replied. “I could barely form words in her company,” he added with a shake of his head. “But she was most gracious. Very refined. The perfect hostess. You would not have known of her profession—her former profession,” he amended quickly. “—Had you spent any time in her company.”
Hannah shook her head. “But if I had seen her somewhere in London, would I have thought her our mother? Was she that similar in appearance?” she asked. “I only ask because, well, I haven’t seen any women who bear a resemblance to Mother,” she argued, wanting him to know she hadn’t come across the former courtesan. “When she is in London, she must not go out in public.”
“Possibly,” Will said with a nod, realizing the woman probably stayed with her hostess and didn’t venture out during her stay. And she wouldn’t have moved in the same circles as their mother when she was still their father’s mistress.
“Did you like her?”
Will gave a start, rather surprised by the simple question. “I suppose. I didn’t dislike her, although I remember wanting to,” he replied, not admitting that he could understand how his father would be attracted to such a beauty. While she shared Grace Burroughs Slater’s facial features, Marie St. Clair had an air of quiet confidence about her that their mother lacked. An air of contentment that suggested she was happy with her lot in life. Will rather doubted the woman ever complained or nagged or belittled the men who employed her.
“What have you done with Stephen, by the way?” she asked suddenly.
Glad for the change in topic, Will took her hand back onto his arm and led them to the entrance to the stables. “I left him in London. Told him to be me and to find me a wife,” he said with a hint of mischief.
Hannah’s eyes widened in alarm. “You rake!” she accused, suddenly rather incensed at him. Didn’t he know how difficult it already was for young ladies of the ton to navigate the Marriage Mart? Adding someone who had no intention of marrying to the mix merely made it worse!
But Will shook his head, a grin on his face. “I don’t think he took me seriously,” he replied. “But if some young lady believes him to be me and discovers how agreeable he is, he may land a wife of good breeding,” he reasoned, thinking he had done the man a favor.
Hannah continued frowning. “And when she finds out he is not an earl destined to be a marquess, but merely the bastard son of one, what then?” she asked. “Oh, Will. What have you done?”
Will considered Hannah’s words, thinking she was being rather dramatic. Stephen wouldn’t truly seek a wife so soon after returning to England.
Would he?
“I am hoping I have made him my replacement,” he whispered. “At least until I absolutely have to return to being me.” At Hannah’s look of confusion, he added, “If he is me, then I don’t have to return to London. I don’t have to find a wife...”
Hannah whirled on him, her head shaking in disbelief. “And what of Barbara? What of the woman you have ruined?”
Will held up a hand as if he had to defend himself, rather startled at his sister’s sudden outburst. “I have every intention of marrying her,” he claimed. “In fact, if there had been a vicar and a means to obtain a license on our trip today, I would see to it we were married in the morning.”
Hannah relaxed a bit at hearing her brother’ claim, although she realized just then he was unaware of Barbara’s feelings on the matter. Their earlier discussion in the garden had left Hannah believing Barbara would never consider her brother’s suit, even if it made perfect sense for them to marry.
She didn’t yet know what had Barbara so apprehensive—something had happened—but she had every intention of discovering just what it was that had Barbara so reluctant to consider marriage to her brother. “I would be honored to have her as my sister,” Hannah murmured, thinking that with a bit of encouragement, Barbara would once again welcome a life more suited to how she was raised. A life that included more luxuries and less labor. More food and less hunger.
Hannah remembered the woman’s claim that she didn’t love Will, though. She allowed a sigh. “But do take ca
re with her, brother. Barbara is a bit... broken.”
Will furrowed his brows at Hannah’s description of the woman he had loved since before he left London for his tour in the British Navy. Broken was as good as any word, he supposed, to describe what had become of his lover. “If she’ll allow me, I’ll put all her little bits and pieces back into place and hold her so tightly she will have to mend,” he whispered, his expression so intense, it had Hannah feeling a bit alarmed.
“And what of Donald?” she asked then, one hand going to his arm to grip it. “He is your son, isn’t he? You speak of your brother looking every bit like you, and yet, that boy bears every likeness to you as well.”
Will nodded, glad to know he wasn’t the only one who saw the family resemblance in the boy. “He is. You must believe me when I tell you that if I’d had any idea I had left Barbara with child, I would have...” He allowed the sentence to trail off.
“Married her? And then left her?” Hannah finished for him, her words rather curt.
Frowning, Will wondered at her tone. “Far better she be married before having her babe than what did happen,” he countered.
“And yet, she is free of an overbearing drunk father who gambles too much and may lose his earldom to the Crown.”
The words were so unexpected, Will had to steady himself by leaning against the stable wall. “How... how do you know this?” he asked in a whisper. He knew Lord Greenley was a gambler, his assessment confirmed when he learned what had happened to force Barbara to move to Broadwell. But about to lose his earldom?
Hannah dipped her head. “Whispers in parlors is all.”
“Jesus,” Will whispered, wanting nothing more than to pull Barbara into his arms that very moment to comfort her. “I had some idea, of course, but not having been in London, I just don’t know.”
Hannah angled her head, realizing that by not being in London all those years, Will was unaware of much that had happened in the families of the ton. If he had no intention of returning to London any time soon, though, he wouldn’t have to learn everything right away. He could take his time familiarizing himself with a new copy of Debrett’s Peerage and Barontage, read the newspapers from London, and read Cherice’s weekly letters.
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