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A Lady's Prerogative

Page 3

by Annabelle Anders


  “Have you asked Mrs. Winston where they might be?” Natalie was intrigued. “What’s in them? Whose trunks are they?” She was ready to jump on any undertaking, no matter how minor, if Stone was involved. His mere presence lifted her disposition.

  With a hint of condescension, Stone answered her barrage of questions. “I am in search of Mrs. Winston this very minute, as of course she will know where they are stored. As for what is inside of the trunks, you will have to ask Lord Hawthorne. He merely told me they were important to him, and he did not trust them in his father’s care. With good cause, apparently. Seeing that the old man torched Maple Hall.”

  “That man isn’t coming here, is he?” She wrinkled her nose in distaste, remembering his demeanor in the park, and on several occasions before that. She didn’t care so much what his father had done. The new earl had established his own rakish reputation with no trouble at all, thank you very much. And yet…she shivered at the memory of his nearness…

  Stone continued to drag her along without answering. When he caught sight of the sturdy woman who kept house at Raven’s Park, he greeted her warmly. Within the same household, a butler marrying the housekeeper was highly unusual, but Natalie’s father, having come into the earldom later in life, kept an open mind regarding such matters. He wasn’t nearly as traditional as many of England’s noblemen.

  Mrs. Winston curtsied in Stone’s direction and then brushed her hands together efficiently. She never failed to be in the middle of some task or another. “What may I do for you, Mr. Stone? Did you wish me to have Cook add something special to the menu this evening?”

  “Whatever she prepares will be heavenly, I’m sure,” Stone assured her. “But for now, I need assistance in locating Lord Hawthorne’s trunks.” He gave her a description of the items he’d stored for his old school friend and the approximate date when they’d arrived. Before he finished talking, Mrs. Winston was nodding. “They are on the third floor, I believe, in the farthest of the servant’s quarters not currently being used. Last room facing the back.”

  Stone thanked her and headed for the servants’ stairway. Natalie followed him anxiously.

  “Is he not something of a rake, Stone? After this nasty business with his father, ought you to continue associating with him?” Natalie persisted, taking up the conversation where they’d left off. She’d not told anyone how Lord Hawthorne had stopped her in Hyde Park the other morning. Whenever she recalled the encounter, her conscience niggled at her. Notwithstanding Garrett Castleton’s suggestive behavior, the brief meeting had left her ashamed of her own.

  Stone stopped and turned to look down at her. His light brown hair was mussed, but his features looked earnest. He seemed to consider his words carefully before speaking. “Not all families are like ours. We have caring parents, aunts, and uncles. We have each other, Natalie. Not only did Garrett lack a mother growing up, but his father was a madman. You can’t imagine…” Stone’s jaw set, and his eyes narrowed. “My friend did not have a normal childhood.”

  Remembering how Lord Hawthorne had taken hold of her hand and refused to step aside for her, Natalie bristled. “But the earl acquired his own reputation! He must be nearing thirty. He wasn’t forced by his father to become such a rogue. He’s made these choices as an adult!”

  Stone sighed in exasperation and resumed climbing. After they’d ascended a few more steps, he spoke again. “Lord Hawthorne is a good man, and Father agrees. You, my dear Nat, must stop giving so much attention to what so-called polite society says about him. What are they saying about you, my dear sister? That you are a flirt? A jilt? Not woman enough to keep Cortland happy? Is any of it true?”

  “Of course not!” Natalie nearly exploded in her denial. How cruel for Stone to rehash such gossip!

  “I know that. But just as you wish some benefit of the doubt, I ask you to do the same for my friend.” He paused, again searching for the right words. “Try to be sympathetic, Nat. Garrett Castleton could have only wished his father dead sooner.”

  Still reeling from her brother’s words, it took a moment for Natalie to contemplate what Stone asked of her. Could she possibly consider the meeting in the park objectively?

  She’d known the earl’s identity at once, having surreptitiously watched the former viscount from afar on a few occasions. Of similar height to Cortland, but leaner, he exuded a hint of danger. His face was narrow, his chin strong, but his sable eyes could be downright offensive. By flicking them up and down her person, he’d aroused a curious sensation deep inside her.

  More than once, he’d stared at her with what seemed like vulgar familiarity. Having been warned to steer clear of him by other respectable ladies, she’d avoided him. Society only received a man such as Castleton due to rank and wealth. He’d never made any attempt to gain society’s approval as a gentleman. Could he be anything other than the man she’d already determined him to be? The thought unnerved her.

  “Consider the possibility, little Nat, that the man was, in fact, rebelling against his father. You wouldn’t have any notion of what’s that like, now would you?”

  She ignored his insinuation. “Please, Stone, do not call me that. It sounds as though you are referring to some sort of a bug.” Little gnat, indeed. Her brothers tortured her with that nickname since they were children. Apparently, it was to follow her into adulthood.

  Natalie arrived at the landing short of breath and picked up her original train of thought. “So you are saying he flouted the rules of society to get back at his father?” When she’d been forced to greet him in the park, he had been disheveled, his black hair hanging in his face, his eyes bloodshot and shadowed. But there had been something else…If she had she not been forbidden to speak with anyone and had she not been running late, she would have been friendly. She would have!

  Stone grinned. “You are an annoying little bug sometimes,” he said, ignoring her question.

  “Do be serious.” She lifted her chin haughtily. Surely Stone would not invite a menace into their midst? And yet, if she was not to avoid the man, then what exactly was she to do with him?

  “He’s not had an easy time of it, Nat. Won’t you trust me? I wouldn’t invite him into our home if he was capable of half the things he’s rumored to have done.”

  “So, he is coming here?” Natalie resisted the urge to bite one of her fingernails as they arrived at the last door. Stone pulled it open and walked into the shadowed room. Curtains blocked all but a few slivers of sunlight, and heavy cloths draped over the furnishings. He pulled a few of the coverings back in a careless manner before discovering what he looked for. There appeared to be a variety of different-sized crates, along with a few trunks.

  Ignoring her question again, Stone explained the crates. “The Hawthorne seat, Maple Hall, is in ruins, but the dower house is intact. He’s coming to retrieve these and will store them there now that he is Hawthorne.” Shuffling about and folding some of the large sheets of canvas, he inspected the condition of the crates. “He was concerned his father would destroy his mother’s effects, given the chance. Wise decision. If left in his father’s care, they would have burned with everything else.”

  “He is coming to Raven’s Park to retrieve them, then?” Natalie stood with her hands on her hips, regarding her brother in exasperation.

  Stone looked up, giving her his full attention once again. “Indeed. He will arrive sometime this week.” He put a foot up on one of the trunks and leaned an arm upon his knee. “And, for me, will you try to remember he isn’t the same person as the old earl? I convinced him to take a short holiday here. I’ll keep him out of your way, hunting and fishing and whatnot. But if you run into the man, will you please not give him the cut? Treat him as an esteemed guest in our home?”

  Natalie leaned thoughtfully against the doorframe. “Father knows? Father finds his presence here acceptable?” This information gave her considerable pause.

  Stone nodded. “Of course. It was at his behest I invited him. Father und
erstands Hawthorne is his own man.”

  “Well then.” Natalie pursed her lips in thought. “In that case, I will be my normal delightful self. But if he says anything unfitting, I shall not hesitate to go to Father.”

  Stone rolled his eyes heavenward. “I’ll keep him well out of your way”—he paused with a grin and then added mischievously—“little Nat.”

  Chapter Three

  After several depressing days going through the charred remains at Maple Hall, Garrett was grateful to leave it behind.

  Stone had predicted rightly. The estate’s dilapidated condition nearly overwhelmed him. After inspecting that which was still intact and beginning repairs to what was left of the stables, Garrett was more than ready for a reprieve. Although he refused to grieve his father’s death, he lamented the condition of his birthright.

  The damage from the fire was expected; the godawful tenant conditions were not. Good, hard-working men were living in dilapidated shacks with their families.

  Garrett wished the hatred he felt for his father could have died along with the man himself. Anger, he was finding, could be exhausting.

  As Rumble, his longtime steed, climbed the last rise, the large Edwardian manor situated in a protected valley beckoned. For several miles, he’d been passing through well-tended fields separated by stone fences and well-groomed hedges. Now though, the patchwork of tidy holdings gave way to a landscaped park, which provided the perfect setting for Ravensdale’s stately mansion. The whitewashed limestone of the exterior created a pleasant contrast for the greenery surrounding it. Vines of ivy grew over the façade of the mansion, which was surrounded by copses of trees and lush lawns. The woodlands appeared untamed at first, but if examined carefully one realized this was not the case. For the thick forest was artfully trimmed to allow access to the large lake it encircled. Despite the estate’s size, it was pretty and homey. In comparison to Maple Hall, Raven’s Park was indeed a little slice of heaven.

  Following the drive leading to the entrance, Garrett braced himself despite Stone’s reassurances. Would they turn him away? Would Lady Ravensdale rescind her son’s invitation? As quickly as the thought arose, it faded when Stone stepped out of the mansion and ambled down the marble steps to the drive. A groomsman appeared as Garrett brought Rumble to a halt and dismounted. Handing over the reins, Garrett then patted his horse on his hindquarters somewhat reluctantly. He normally took responsibility for the care of his own mount, but knowing the Spencer men as he did, Garrett was confident the lad would give Rumble a thorough rubdown and a clean stall. The Earl of Ravensdale would not employ lazy or inept stable hands.

  “You’ve made good time. Decided to travel ahead of the baggage coach?” Stone grasped Garrett’s hand and patted his shoulder in a friendly greeting. His friend’s eyes sparkled with an honest and warm welcome.

  It had been a long time since he’d met with a welcome anywhere.

  “I did.” Garrett pondered the grand house. “You are certain my presence will not cause discord?” The effects of disgrace could be contagious. Scandal was infectious, and no one immune. “I do not wish to cause—”

  Before Garrett could complete his sentence, Stone was shaking his head. “All is fine, Castleton…er, Hawthorne now, I guess.”

  Garrett grimaced. “Horrid name to go by.”

  “Time will change that.” Stone sounded matter-of-fact as he led him toward the door. “Make it yours. That’s what my father said he did when he inherited.” He led Garrett inside as the butler held the door wide for them. “I imagine you’d like to wash up. I’ll show you to your chamber, and then you can join me downstairs for a late nuncheon. My mother will have something appetizing set out in the dining room.”

  “Lodging in the main house isn’t necessary. I’m more than happy to bunk in the bachelors’ quarters.” Garrett hoped to avoid the family as much as possible. In fact, he’d counted on it. And as for Lady Natalie, he intended to evade her completely.

  “Well, old chap, there’s something you never learned about mothers. They get these crazy ideas about looking to your well-being. Like it or not, mine believes you need cossetting and has insisted you be welcomed into the fold.” They climbed two flights of stairs before Stone turned left along a richly carpeted corridor. Garrett followed reluctantly. “Besides, the bachelor cottage is in need of repair. Trust me, this will surpass the comfort of those lodgings by far.” He opened the door to a well-kept room with masculine décor.

  “With Joseph marrying a few weeks ago, his room is not in use. Mother’s had it readied specifically for you. She’d have my hide if I put you anywhere else.” Glancing at his fob watch, Stone backed out of the room. “I’ll leave you for now. Ring if you need anything and then come down when you’re ready. Nuncheon is an extended casual affair, so no need to rush.”

  Garrett tossed his saddlebag on the bed and turned to Stone. “None of this is necessary, you know. I’ve no need for any of this.”

  Stone put out his hands, as though to stop him from saying anything further. Staring down at the carpet, he took a moment to think before looking back up at Garrett. “I want you to know there are people who can separate you from your father. It will take time, but all will be well. Allow matters to rest.”

  Appreciating the sentiments, but doubting Stone’s optimism, Garrett thanked his loyal friend with a nod. “I’ll see you downstairs then. Is your fishing hole well stocked? Been looking forward to that all week.”

  Stone nodded solemnly. “Downstairs then.”

  Garrett cleaned up using the cold water by the wash basin, took a swig of the whiskey he carried with him, and then decided he might as well begin his “holiday.” If Lady Ravensdale found it necessary to house him in Joseph’s chamber, there must be other guests. Good Lord, the woman was probably hosting some sort of house party. Most assuredly, Stone would not have mentioned it. Had he done so, Garrett would have refused the invitation outright.

  Wonderful.

  As he entered the corridor, an adjacent door opened as well.

  Of course. Who else would it be?

  Although, admittedly, he’d acted rudely toward her in the park, her outright disgust at his offered escort festered. He’d dealt with blatant disdain from many a spoiled debutante and not cared one fig, but the scorn he’d seen in Lady Natalie Spencer’s eyes that day still rankled. And feeling rankled drew the worst out of him.

  Unfortunately, now a guest in her parents’ home, Garrett would show very poor taste indeed to act upon his feelings.

  Which, where Lady Natalie was concerned, were mixed.

  Damned if she didn’t look ravishing and regal in a pale-yellow dress. Just the right amount of color to enhance her creamy skin and golden hair. Just the right amount of lace to disguise her frosty superiority. As she heard his door close and turned to see who had joined her in the corridor, Garrett braced himself. Would she acknowledge him?

  This time she did not look away. This time her gaze held his.

  This time she smiled.

  Surely, hell had frozen over.

  “My lord, welcome to Raven’s Park.” Her voice rang softly in the corridor. A slight blush rose on her cheeks before she dropped into a delicate curtsey. Not only was he surprised by her smile, but an enormous tug of unwanted attraction ambushed him.

  Garrett bowed in return. He’d not made it a practice to be charming to society chits. He was in unfamiliar territory.

  “My lady.” His words were followed by an awkward pause. Her greeting had startled him. He’d expected disdain or rudeness or, at the very least, aloofness. More than a little suspicious, he nonetheless offered his arm. “May I escort you downstairs to the dining room? I presume that is your destination?” He did not smile in return. Would she run from him again?

  He ought to have opted for a nap.

  Natalie had known he’d arrived. Stone had informed her a few minutes earlier. What a different turn of circumstances this was from their last meeting. A quiver scuttled dow
n her spine despite the warmth of the afternoon.

  Lord Hawthorne’s demeanor was distinctly different today, as he offered her his arm. He did not speak sarcastically. He seemed, she thought, rather wary instead.

  Although the man must have washed, for his hair was still damp, he remained in his traveling clothes. This was obvious as a considerable amount of dust clung to both his jacket and fitted tan breeches. Despite the condition of his clothing, his scent was not unattractive. She caught a whiff of soap and sandalwood, and—well—man.

  Feeling petite, she noted he was lean but well-muscled and quite tall. She hesitated a moment before taking his arm.

  “I hope my brother informed you nuncheon is casual. Cold meats, cheese, breads, and fruits are the standard fare. You need only ring if you have want of anything. My mother, of course, hopes you feel very much at home while you’re here.” Natalie addressed him cordially as she would any of Stone’s friends. After pondering her brother’s advice regarding the new earl, she’d decided to give him a second chance.

  She’d so often found herself vexed by his demeanor, she failed to remember him being—hmm, not really handsome, that was not the right word—arresting fit better. For he wasn’t classically proportioned. His chin was hard, and his nose appeared to have been broken a time or two. His eyes gave nothing away. They weren’t cold, rather too hot, exuding sensuality and tension. His arm felt firm and warm where her hand lay along the sleeve of his jacket. Such proximity inspired an inward shiver as he escorted her toward the grand staircase. It reminded her of the shock she’d felt when he’d taken her hand in the park. And what he’d done with his mouth…

  “You’ll have to tell me where we are going, or I will have us wandering in circles.” He was trying to be pleasant. How bizarre! She looked up to see his expression. Of course, he was not smiling. Grimacing perhaps…

 

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