Chapter Twelve
The next morning, Adam was up and dressed early, his valet, Jenkins, having been roused at just before the crack of dawn to make certain his master was as presentable as possible before he spoke to his mother. Random cuts, scrapes and bruises on his face - which were still appearing days after his now legendary leap from the balustrade - excluded, of course. For Adam, odd as it sounded, his clothing was, in many ways, like his suit of armor these days. If he was dressed perfectly, that was one less area where people could find fault with him.
He also made certain that he was the first to arrive in the breakfast room and took a seat directly near the door so he could see his mother the moment she entered. Typically, she was an exceptionally early riser, much like Abigail, and Adam had no doubt that Mary Reynolds would be taking her morning tea and toast long before just about anyone else in the household was awake.
Adam was proven correct when, not ten minutes later, his mother swanned into the room, just as she had when she was younger. Even now in her fifth decade, she had not lost her looks and was a rather handsome woman, despite the ever-increasing gray in her hair. There were times when Adam wondered why she had not remarried, especially now that he was firmly established as the duke, but he knew that, like him and Sophia both, she was loathe to give up her freedom. A new husband, especially a peer, would likely tie her down, force her to bend to his rules and probably tighten the purse strings - all things that Adam never did. And never would. He had far too much respect for his mother and all she had endured to do that.
"Mama." Adam rose and pulled out a chair for her. Thankfully she hesitated only a moment before sitting down. It was clear from her stiff posture that she had not yet completely forgiven him. However she had also not turned away from him either. It was progress. "It is good to see you this morning."
"Is it?" she asked, though there was slightly conciliatory note in her tone.
Adam nodded solemnly. "It is. I know that much has transpired between us as of late and very little of it is good. I have disappointed you and for that, I am truly sorry."
She seemed shocked by his confession for a moment but simply gave a small nod of acknowledgement. "I believe we are both sorry for a great many things."
A surge of triumph shot through him. He was making real progress at last! However, he also realized quickly that it would not do to get ahead of himself so he quickly tempered his expectations. "We are. Especially me. Which is why I wished to speak with you this morning."
She gave him a half smile and a knowing look. "I knew that already, my boy. Mothers are not so foolish or blind that they do not know when their children want something."
This elicited an answering smile from Adam and he felt something inside of his chest loosen. However, he quickly sobered once more. He did not wish to become overly cocky. "Lord Raynecourt came to see me last night."
"After that final game of charades?" His mother seemed confused as she poured herself a cup of piping hot tea from a pot that a servant had discreetly placed at her elbow before disappearing into the background once more.
"No," Adam replied with a swift shake of his head. "After midnight."
Unsurprisingly, his mother now cast a quick look about the breakfast room. "Should we be discussing this here?"
Adam hadn't thought of that, but supposed that his mother was right in wishing for a bit more privacy. "Perhaps not." He rose and offered his mother his arm. "Let us walk, Mama. I understand Lady Enwright's morning room is absolutely charming in the early light." And as the rain had stopped overnight and the sun was out once more, it would likely look its best at this hour.
Together they walked in silence through the deserted hallways of Fairhaven, the muted sounds of their shoes echoing down the long hall to mix with the tune of songbirds in the shrubs outside. Unfortunately, the rain from the previous day had done little more than make the air thick and sticky, necessitating the opening of as many windows and doors as possible. It had done nothing to cool the raging heat and even at this early hour, the few servants they passed seemed to be moving slowly, as if in a fog. Given that Adam had been unable to sleep last night, it wasn't likely that anyone else in the house had either. Though in his case, it was more from Rayne's visit than the unrelenting heat.
Finally, they reached the morning room, which was blessedly empty and a bit cooler than the muggy hallway. Once Adam settled his mother into a comfortable chair, he closed the door and took the chair opposite her. He had no idea how long they would have to speak privately, so he decided to get directly to the point.
Reaching into his jacket pocket, he took out the letter Rayne had left with him the previous evening. "The earl gave this to me last night. It is addressed to you from Lord Candlewood. I do not know what it says, for I was not so crass as to open it, but based upon the information Rayne gave me last night, I believe that it has to do with Sophia. And Selby. And that it is likely not good."
His mother shocked him a bit when she all but snatched the letter out of his hands, broke the seal and read it quickly. He had never known her to be anything but cool and reserved most of the time, deliberate in all of her actions, so to see this side of her was a bit surprising.
When she looked up from the letter, her mouth was set in a grim line. "Candlewood has received word that Selby intends to run off with Sophia to Gretna Green. Selby believes that with word of his substantial gaming debts leaking out that it is only a matter of time before all mothers begin watching their daughters more closely around him. He is, apparently, afraid that if he does not snare Sophia now then he will be thrown in debtor's prison. Or worse."
"Then we shan't let Sophia out of our sight." Adam did not even pause to think about his response. "The scoundrel will not take her way in the middle of the night like some prized mare he is attempting to steal."
Mary Reynolds chuckled and Adam realized how good of a sound that was to his ears. "Ah, son, I do like your enthusiasm. But you know that Sophia is still furious with you."
"I know." For the last few days, Sophia had gone so far as to give Adam the cut direct. It had not exactly helped his campaign to finagle his way back into Society's good graces. "She has been rather obvious in her distaste for me."
His mother laid a hand on his arm. "She will come around. In time. But in the meantime, I fear that she is still too far under Selby's spell to see reason. About anything."
"We all were, Mama," Adam reminded her gently. "Everyone adored him! He is set to inherit not just two titles but a great fortune as well."
"You always saw through him, however, and I am now sorry that we did not listen more when you warned us about him. Oh, and he was set to inherit," his mother corrected him. "According to Candlewood, his crass behavior has not gone unnoticed by his family, particularly his father. The current earl is alarmed at his son's reckless behavior and rumor has it that he has changed his will, despite the scandal doing so is certain to cause. His second son, Anthony, has been named as heir and will inherit in time. Provided, of course, that Anthony can be located as no one, not even Candlewood is certain where the man is. Somewhere in either Egypt or Persia leading an archeological dig, from what his father understands, unfortunately. He has men there searching for him now."
Was nothing ever easy? For anyone? Adam wanted to shout the question to the sky, but instead drew in a deep breath. Now was not the time for ranting. Now was the time for planning. Once more, he needed to think and oddly, he wished for Abigail to be there by his side so that he might ask her opinion. Not only was she a young lady who had been faced with similar situations, but she was calm and levelheaded in a way most of Society was not.
"So what shall we do?" Adam grumbled as he launched himself out of his chair to pace the room as Rayne had done last night. It was far more soothing than he had imagined. "It is difficult for me to protect a sister who will not speak to me."
His mother shook Candlewood's letter again. "Even from his own honeymoon, the man seems to t
hink of everything. He and Harry Greer are sending additional Runners to the house party, many of them in disguise. Most are secretly in the employ of Bow Street, but are also lords by birth who can mix freely with our set without fear of discovery. Second and third sons are still welcome in Society after all, even if they shall never inherit."
"Runners? Who are also lords? In disguise?" Adam frowned. "Rayne said nothing about that last night."
The duchess tapped the letter on a nearby table. "Likely because he did not know. Other than me, and now you, it seems no one does. And that is for everyone's protection, but I shall tell you that Lord Lewis Blackmore, who is the third son of the Marquess of Dunleighton and currently in the employ of Bow Street, will be arriving soon. Either later tonight or first thing on the 'morrow."
"Do we know anything about this man?" Adam had never heard of Blackmore, but then, given how narrow and insular his world had been as of late, that was not surprising.
"I know his mother." A far-off look came into his mother's eyes. "I was friends with Eugenia when we were younger. She is a good woman and likely raised fine young men." She cleared her throat. "The man also served in His Majesty's army as a member of the 12th Light Dragoons. He received several commendations for his actions, particularly at Salamanca, according to the duke." She bit her lip with a frown, as if just remembering an important detail. "He does have something of a scar, I am told but he is also utterly charming and delightful. He was also raised to be a perfect gentleman so he shall fit right in here at the house party."
The name Lewis Blackmore set off something in the back of Adam's mind, but since he couldn't think of precisely why the name seemed familiar, he let it go. "Very well. If Candlewood trusts this man, then so shall I. We have little choice, I fear." He paced back towards his mother and then took her hand in his, raising it to his lips for a brief kiss. "Mama, I am glad we have reached an understanding, but if you will excuse me, there are things I must attend to regarding Sophia and her safety. I do not wish to wait until this Lord Blackmore arrives." Such as putting Enwright and all of the other men he could trust on alert about Selby.
"Another moment, Adam, if you please."
His mother never called him by his given name so when she did so now, he stopped immediately and turned back to her. "Mama?"
She rose from the chair, but he was immediately by her side when she stumbled a bit. "Leave the discussions with Lord Enwright to me. Please. I think that going through his wife might be a more useful approach. After all, we do not know where male loyalties lie, but I do know that all females, no matter who they are, fear that something like this could happen to them. Speaking with Lucy will do more good than going directly to her husband."
Adam wasn't certain he agreed with that plan, but it sounded reasonable enough in its own way. Also, since he and his mother were finally on speaking terms again, he did not wish to erase all of his progress by denying her this one small thing. "As you like, Mama," he finally offered with an elegant bow.
"One more thing." This time when Adam stopped and turned back to his mother, he did so warily. He recognized that tone. It was one of scheming, and he had heard it all too often before. "Candlewood is afraid that if Selby is denied Sophia, he will strike at the next most vulnerable target."
"Abigail Northrup." Rayne had said as much last night.
His mother nodded. "She is here with only a chaperone and one that is never seen at that, since the woman has been laid up in bed almost from the moment they arrived. If I had not encountered Miss Cutwright on my way to breakfast that first morning, I would not be certain that she exists at all!"
"And Miss Northrup is an heiress in her own right, far more than Sophia shall ever be. She would be a tempting prize to a desperate man." The bile rose in Adam's throat as he said the words.
For a moment, his mother looked at him speculatively. "She would be, indeed." Then she raised an eyebrow. "You have...formed a friendship of sorts with her? Or is it more?"
Once more, Adam's initial inclination was to lie but this time he stopped himself. He must break himself of that habit. Beginning now. Besides, it would be no use to deny what everyone else could already plainly see for themselves if they but looked. "It is...complicated," he finally offered. "At first, I spoke with her simply because no one else seemed willing to speak to me." He shrugged. "Or even acknowledge my presence."
"And now?"
He drew in a deep breath. "Now I find that she is utterly charming and delightful. And that I enjoy spending time with her. A great deal of time," he added meaningfully. When his mother's eyes narrowed, he knew she took his meaning. "She is the sort of woman who would make an excellent duchess, despite her lack of pedigree." A part of Adam understood that he should not have added that last part, but he wanted his mother to understand that he finally meant to settle down - just as she had always wanted.
It would simply not be with the woman she had chosen for him. Lady Diana was gone, wed to another. She was happy. Adam was trying to become happy. It was time to let that particular dream die.
His mother pressed her lips together, but she did not say anything immediately. Finally she nodded. "She is not the woman I would have chosen for you, but then we have all seen how well that situation worked out, did we not?" She inclined her head. "If she is your choice - and moreover, if she will even have you - then you have my blessing. Do not think I am blind to the amount of time you spend with the young lady. I am not yet senile." She sighed. "Though I am not so young as I once was, either."
"You are still as vibrant as ever, Mama," Adam assured her, even though he and Sophia both had noticed their mother slowing down in recent years. "You have plenty of life left."
"Enough to see you well settled at least," she agreed as she allowed him to help her to the door. "Now, I should like to return to the breakfast room if you please. Lady Huffton and I had hoped to discuss strategy since we are planning to partner at whist later today. We wish to challenge Lady Trevorton and Lady Waverly to a friendly game this afternoon. Winner will receive the right to somehow destroy that awful hat Mrs. Collins was wearing the other day. The damned thing looks as if it has a passel of sparrows nesting upon the top of it. Utterly horrid!"
"Mama," Adam warned with a laugh, "behave."
She returned his laugh with one of her own. "I shall." Then she paused as they had reached the breakfast room far more quickly than either of them had anticipated. "Have breakfast with me, my boy. Or at least sit with me for a bit until someone like Lord Hunt arrives to snatch you away for the day."
It was a peace offering, and one Adam was not foolish enough to ignore. "I would be delighted, Mama." He tucked her hand more securely into his arm.
"But before he or Lady Huffton arrive," she said deviously, "perhaps you can tell me all about this Miss Northrup of yours."
"She is not my Miss Northrup," he protested, but he did not press the issue with his mother. Rather, he was simply elated that she was speaking to him again. Moreover, she was teasing him, and that hadn't happened for many years now. In that moment, Adam knew he had been forgiven. And he was never more glad of anything in all his life.
Chapter Thirteen
It was already the middle of the morning by the time Abigail was able to join the rest of the guests for whatever activities had been planned for the day. While she had been up with the sun and ready for her now-daily walk in the gardens, once more Miss Cutwright had claimed injury and this time, given how deathly pale the woman appeared, Abigail had become increasingly concerned about her chaperone's overall health. So much so that Abigail had sent for Dr. Hastings. Upon a more thorough examination of the woman, the doctor had discovered a small puncture wound on Miss Cutwright's ankle, likely from the tooth of the spaniel she had tripped over nearly a week past. Though he could not say what she was suffering from, Dr. Hastings did admit that Miss Cutwright had a slight fever and her knee was still swollen. As, of course, was her ankle.
The doctor had suggeste
d several forms of rather unconventional treatment that had shown promise in places like Germany and Persia. Abigail was inclined to allow the man to do whatever he wished, including dousing the wound with either brandy or scotch, which seemed a bit odd. However, she trusted the man implicitly. After all, he had saved the life of many a peer and seemed genuinely concerned about Miss Cutwright.
Abigail had also requested that a tray be sent up to her chaperone's room, largely at the physician's request since he was concerned that Miss Cutwright had not been eating or drinking properly, making her condition worse. It was unsurprising when enough food for ten ladies had arrived on the requested tray and once more, Abigail planned to seek out Lucy later so that she might thank the duchess for her thoughtfulness. The excessively full tray had also allowed Abigail herself to break her fast while tending to her chaperone at the same time.
Finally, when the woman was settled, Dr. Hastings suggested that Abigail rejoin the rest of the house party. He needed someone who could sew to attend him just then, and since Abigail was abysmal at needlework, he gently suggested that the maid, Elsie, was a far better choice. Along with at least two of Lucy's footmen and three other upstairs maids - though they were all present strictly for propriety's sake, of course.
At first, Abigail wanted to argue that it was unnecessary, and that she wanted to stay. However when she saw the array of surgical equipment that Dr. Hastings had laid out upon a nearby table, she thought better of it. She agreed to remove herself from the room, at least in part because she knew Miss Cutwright was in good hands. However Abigail did insist that someone from Lucy's staff seek her out if something changed or the woman's condition worsened.
So, reassured as much as she could be that Miss Cutwright was in good hands, Abigail went downstairs only to find Fairhaven all but deserted. When she stopped a maid to ask where everyone was, she was told that Lord and Lady Enwright had decided that an afternoon swimming party in the lake would be just the thing, especially now that rowing practice for the upcoming contest against Crestfield Hall had ended for the day.
The Kiss of a Rogue Page 18