An Heir of Uncertainty

by Everett, Alyssa

  “Cassie is my closest friend in the world,” Lina said. “I sometimes think my mother’s life would have been very different if she’d had a brother or sister to turn to, but she was an only child.” She sighed. “Our lives would’ve been very different. My grandfather owned property on the other side of Malton that might have come to my mother, but after she was ruined, relations between them became so irretrievably fractured, he cut her out of his will. He left my grandmother a life interest in the property, but when she died it was sold, with every penny going to found The Dalchester Asylum for Fallen Women.”

  “‘For Fallen Women’?”

  She laughed humorlessly. “Oh, yes. It was quite a slap in the face to my mother, as he clearly intended—leaving everything he had to all the weak, credulous females of the world, with the pointed exception of his own daughter.”

  Win had never heard of anything so spiteful. That it should have occurred in a clergyman’s family left him doubly shocked. “How did you lose your brothers and sisters, if the question isn’t too painful?”

  “Malcolm died after a fall from a tree when he was only twelve,” Lina said with a wistful expression, “and Colin and Fiona died some three years ago, both from fever and within a week of each other.”

  “Three years ago? So you were already engaged to marry Lord Radbourne?”

  “No, but we’d met not long before and I was...” She seemed at a loss for words to finish the story. “We decided to marry not long after.”

  “That must have been especially hard, losing your brother and sister so close together.”

  “Yes, and not just for us. At the time, poor Dr. Strickland was new here. He did everything he could to save them, but to no avail, and losing two young and otherwise healthy patients did little to recommend him to the neighborhood.” She summoned a philosophical smile. “Fortunately he’s an excellent doctor, and with time his practice recovered.”

  Dr. Strickland again. Was it mere coincidence that his name seemed to crop up with such frequency, particularly in the wake of tragedy? Strickland had seemed an excellent doctor, but just because he could set a bone with skill didn’t put him above suspicion when it came to harming Lina and those around her.

  Then again, was it really so surprising that the doctor’s name should be associated with tragedy when it was his job to attend the sick and injured? Strickland hadn’t been present when Lina was pushed into the street in Malton, at least not as far as Win was aware. Besides, what possible motive could he have to hurt her? Though Win had all but discounted the insinuations Mr. Channing had made about the two of them, if there was even a possibility of truth to the rumor, it made no sense for Strickland to harm his own unborn child.

  Which brought up another, more humbling possibility. What if his creeping suspicions about Strickland were simple jealousy? What if he was quick to raise his hackles whenever Lina mentioned the doctor only because he didn’t like the thought of her being linked to another man?

  Annoyed with himself, he set the conversation back on its original course. “I’ve been fortunate in that my branch of the Vaughan family tree is a hardy lot. I’m the eldest and Freddie is the youngest, but we have two sisters in between, Ellie and Anne. They’re both married now.”

  “You said that with such pride, I rather envy your sisters.”

  “I am proud of them. They both offered to take in Julia after my wife died, actually, but Ellie lives in Cornwall and Anne was only a newlywed at the time, and I couldn’t bear the thought of letting Julia go. She was already walking and talking and had a nurse who doted on her, and I believed I could manage.” He picked up his wineglass, wearing a faint frown. “Unfortunately, we were forced to leave her nurse behind in Hampshire, and Julia is growing old enough now to need more than just a father’s care.”

  “Hence the search for a governess.”

  “Yes.”

  “I haven’t forgotten. I’ll think of a likely candidate or two and give you their names before the week is out.”

  Win nodded his thanks, trying not to be obvious about admiring Lina’s looks. The candlelight threw her beauty into sharp relief, yet there was nothing cold or unapproachable about her. Her front teeth were just the tiniest bit crooked, something he hadn’t noticed at first but which he now found utterly beguiling—though perhaps he might have noticed the trait sooner if her evening gown weren’t cut low enough to reveal the high, firm curves of her breasts. “It’s fortunate you’re so familiar with the neighborhood. I take it you’ve lived in Yorkshire all your life?”

  “Every minute of it, save for my honeymoon. I was looking forward to removing to London when Edward took his seat, but he died so soon after reaching his majority, that never happened.” She glanced about her. “And now I live here. It seems unlikely I’ll visit Town any time soon.”

  Not on a hundred and sixty pounds a year, she wouldn’t. But unless he came between her and the Radbourne fortune, he was going to lose Hamble Grange. “At least I can make this place more comfortable for you.”

  “Thank you for offering to handle the repairs. I’ve wondered if living in this house might be unhealthy for Cassandra. Her lungs have been worse than ever since we took up residence here. She saw a specialist in York shortly after I was married, and he told her damp can bring on an attack.”

  “I’m sure Mr. Niven would’ve agreed to help, if you’d only asked.”

  She gave a short, humorless laugh. “If you’re sure of that, then one of us is clearly mistaken in our opinion of Mr. Niven—and I strongly suspect it isn’t me.”

  “I wrote him today, to ask him to return to Belryth. I intend to unravel the discrepancies in the account books.”

  “What are you two whispering about over there?” Miss Douglass broke in. “Lina, whatever did you say to make the colonel scowl so?”

  “It’s not Lady Radbourne’s doing,” Win said. “I was only remarking on a meeting I mean to have with Mr. Niven.”

  “Ah, no wonder you were scowling,” Miss Douglass said lightly. “Has anyone ever enjoyed a meeting with Mr. Niven?”

  “I can’t say,” Win answered. “Is there a Mrs. Niven?”

  Lina laughed. “He’s a bachelor, so there’s your answer.”

  Win looked from one sister to the other. “When he arrives, perhaps you ladies would do me the honor of joining us for dinner at the abbey. I realize you’re in mourning and mine is a bachelor establishment, but since it was your former home and you’ll likely have workmen in the house here, I trust we might set aside the conventions this once.”

  Miss Douglass threw a glance in Freddie’s direction. “I’d love to come.”

  Win smiled at Lina. “Perhaps you’d even be willing to act as hostess for me, Lady Radbourne? I have a notion to invite the trustees and their wives, and perhaps Dr. Strickland as well.”

  He was expecting—well, hoping for—the same level of enthusiasm from Lina as her sister had shown. Instead she stared back at him, a look of reluctance on her face.

  * * *

  Lina hesitated. Dinner with Mr. Niven and the trustees? Such a party would no doubt include Mr. Channing—and if Win meant to learn all he could about the account books, perhaps Sir John Blessingame as well. In other words, a room full of men who cordially loathed her, and the feeling was mutual. One of the men might even be behind the recent attempts to harm her and her baby.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to make some excuse. But Win was clearly trying to sort out the problems he’d found at the abbey, including the condition of the dower house, whether the title and lands ended up in his hands or her child’s. She would have to set aside her misgivings. “Of course, if you wish.”

  It was a yes—an agreement—but some of her doubt crept into her tone. Coupled with her brief hesitation, her answer came out sounding far more grudging than she’d intended. She’d h
eard children show more enthusiasm for going to the tooth-drawer.

  Win’s smile faded. “I’d be most grateful.” He gave a businesslike nod and applied himself to eating his haddock.

  Until that moment, Lina had been proud of the way she was handling dinner. To look at her, one would never guess the conscious effort it was taking to treat Win as if he were merely an ordinary guest, and not a man whose every glance made her pulse quicken. Certainly no one would suspect that less than twelve hours before, she’d been in his arms, lost in his kiss. She’d been cordial but cautious.

  But now somehow she’d taken that caution too far and offended him. She had only herself to blame, and she’d wanted to establish a seemly distance between them, yet the change left her curiously deflated. He looked so blindingly handsome and broad-shouldered in his suit of black evening clothes, and even if he turned that brilliant, dimple-producing smile on every woman he met, something about it had made her feel beautiful again. She hadn’t felt that way since before Edward’s death.

  On the other hand, wasn’t it for the best if she and Win put matters between them on a more formal footing? Only one person could inherit the title in the end, and if the Almighty had any sense of fair play at all, it would be her child. Win would return to Hampshire, she’d be mistress of Belryth Abbey again, and their acquaintance would be at an end. Given the temporary nature of his tenure here, why should she risk giving anyone the least justification to accuse her of forgetting Edward?

  At the last thought, she cast a guilty glance in her sister’s direction. Cassie’s words still stung. If Colonel Vaughan appears too familiar or too particular in his attentions, people may say you never truly cared for Radbourne. Well, there was little danger of that now.

  Though perhaps Cassie ought to take a little of her own advice tonight, and have a care for appearances. She’d been most attentive to Mr. Vaughan since the moment he arrived, and the interest she’d suddenly developed in pigeons was surprising to say the least. If she wasn’t careful, she’d have Mr. Vaughan worrying she’d set her cap for him.

  “Pigeons have value beyond their homing abilities, and even beyond their meat,” Mr. Vaughan was saying. “In addition to being an excellent fertilizer, pigeon droppings were once the best known source of potassium nitrate—saltpeter—an essential ingredient in making gunpowder. During the interregnum, Parliament passed special laws to grant saltpeter men rights to dig in pigeon houses.”

  Win cleared his throat. “Freddie, do you remember what we discussed on the walk here?”

  Mr. Vaughan turned a blank look on his brother. “Yes, but I wasn’t talking about mating or orifices.”

  “Consider droppings of any kind added to that list.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind, Colonel,” Cassie insisted, smiling at Mr. Vaughan. “I find the subject fascinating.”

  Lina looked down at her plate and toyed with her parsnips. She rather envied Cassie’s high spirits, and her freedom to enjoy the evening. But Cassie hadn’t lost a husband, only a brother-in-law. Besides, so far Cassie’s flirting was harmless enough. Lina had done far worse, kissing Win. She should have been more loyal to Edward’s memory, after he’d been so steadfastly loyal to her.

  She had a sudden memory of Edward—sweet, devoted Edward—down on one knee and smiling up at her, begging her to marry him.

  Just as she’d hesitated that first time he’d asked her to dance at the Malton assembly, she hesitated before accepting his proposal. He seemed so young, and for all her pride she knew she wasn’t really a suitable match for the wealthy Earl of Radbourne. He belonged with an heiress or a society beauty, some lady with an impressive fortune and an unspotted lineage to match.

  “Say yes,” he urged her, sincerity in his eyes. “You know I’m mad for you. I’ll never be happy with anyone else.”

  “But I’m three years older than you, and I haven’t a penny to my name.”

  “And you think I care about that? I have pennies enough and to spare. We’d have such a jolly time, Lina, as husband and wife. We could wake up together every morning, and go to bed together every night.”

  She actually laughed, despite her reservations. “Yes, I understand how it works.”

  “Then say you’ll have me. I know you’ve no dowry and no family to give you away, but that doesn’t matter to me. In fact, this is the last time either of us need mention it. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, and the best and the smartest, and I love everything about you. Please, please say yes.”

  How could she resist a proposal so heartfelt—especially when it was the solution to all her problems? She’d have no more reason to lose sleep at night, worrying that she and sixteen-year-old Cassie would have to choose between starvation or the parish workhouse. And in a few years, Cassie would have a better chance of meeting an eligible gentleman and making a good match of her own.

  Besides, it didn’t have to be a one-sided bargain, did it? She might not love Edward, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t make him happy. She’d become the wife he deserved or die trying.

  “Very well, then.” A strange detachment settled over her at the cold-bloodedness of the bargain she was striking. “If you’re certain that’s what you want, I’d be honored to marry you.”

  His smile widened into a teasing grin. “And happy as well, I hope.”

  “Oh, of course.” She gave him a convincing smile of her own.

  It was a sin of sorts—a sin of omission, at the very least, letting him believe she loved him when she didn’t. She was selling herself to the first rich man to come along, and even her poor, misguided mother had never sunk that low. But with Colin and Fiona gone, and with them Colin’s meager earnings and the pittance from Fiona’s father, how else could she and Cassie survive? They were already behind on their rent, and they’d been buying on tick from the butcher and the grocer since the week Colin fell ill. She didn’t have the luxury of waiting for true love to drop into her lap.

  And then Sir John refused to give his consent. By that time Lina had talked herself out of even the worst of her misgivings, and she was as determined to marry Edward as he was to marry her. With nearly three full years to wait until he came of age, she lived in terror Edward would fall out of love with her, or Sir John would find some way to steer him toward a more suitable bride, or both.

  But warring with her fear of losing Edward was an equally powerful determination not to make the same ruinous mistake her mother had made. No matter how long it took, no matter how difficult the wait, she wasn’t going to bed with any man until his wedding ring was on her finger. She wasn’t about to wind up abandoned, despised and burdened with a fatherless child.

  For three long years—three years fraught with tension—she walked the tightrope of hanging on to Edward’s devotion without trading away her virtue. No doubt most of Malton believed she was already his mistress, especially since he helped her with small loans—gifts, really, no matter what she called them—that enabled her to make ends meet.

  But she wasn’t his mistress. All too often, their strolls through the park at Belryth and the private moments they stole together ended with Edward flushed and trembling with excitement.

  “Please, Lina,” she could remember Edward panting. “You know I mean to marry you. Everyone knows. In my heart, I feel as if we’re already married.”

  He looked so desperately needy, she felt almost cruel for refusing him. “But your heart isn’t the only place that matters. What if I should wind up with a child?”

  “Then perhaps it will spur Uncle Blessingame to give his consent.”

  “Or perhaps it won’t. I can’t, Edward. I wish I could, but please don’t ask me to take that chance.”

  “But if you love me...” he begged, pressing himself against her.

  It had taken all her willpower to stand firm against his pleading. She’d even resor
ted to certain measures—measures she hoped Cassandra never suspected—to bring him some relief.

  And in the end, she’d done it. She’d become the Countess of Radbourne and gone to her wedding night still a virgin.

  Now the memory of those years left Lina mystified by her recent behavior. How could she have resisted Edward’s impassioned lovemaking for so long, only to steal through the abbey to kiss Win Vaughan, a man she’d met less than a week before? Even if she’d stopped short of giving herself to him, she’d wanted to cast aside both the lessons of her mother’s life and her loyalty to Edward. She’d wanted to stay in that bed with him, and let him keep going.

  But why? It had to be the pregnancy.

  At the end of the table, a gasp from Cassie tore her from her reflections.

  “What is it?” Lina said at once, darting a mistrustful look in the direction of Win’s brother. “What’s wrong?”

  Cassie’s face was white. “Mr. Vaughan says the gamekeeper’s dog was killed today.”

  “Poisoned,” Mr. Vaughan confirmed, blinking owlishly. “I happened on Beauty this afternoon while returning from my dovecote.”

  His dovecote? And—poisoned?

  “Let’s not distress the ladies,” Win told his brother. His gaze jumped back to Lina. “I was going to give you the news after dinner. Suffice it to say I’m looking into the matter.”

  Lina couldn’t hide her dismay. She’d walked home unaccompanied the night before, and then back to the abbey this morning. “You’re quite sure the dog was dead?”

  “Definitely,” Mr. Vaughan answered. “Her eyes were open and there were flies buzzing about them.”

  Win shot him a chiding look.

  “But who would do such a thing?” Lina had always felt safer knowing Beauty was guarding the abbey grounds at night. “Was it a poacher?”

  “That’s the most likely explanation,” Win said.

  Then why did he sound so unconvinced? “Poor Beauty.”

  Cassie’s eyes were misty. “And poor Sam Dalkin. It will be strange, seeing Sam without his dog at his side.”