Reunited With Her Viscount Protector (Lords And Their Ladies Book 6)

by Mary Brendan

  ‘What emergency brought you back here?’ Dawn speedily asked.

  ‘I received a message that Sarah couldn’t be found. Villains are known to haunt the area and her chaperon was in a panic about a kidnapping as the local smugglers have committed similar crimes for ransoms. It was a false alarm, thank the Lord; Sarah was safe and well at home when I arrived. Her chaperon is supposed to accompany her when she goes out walking in the grounds, but Sarah admitted she purposely gave her the slip. Apparently she has made a friend and likes him very much. They talk about fishing.’ Jack smiled. ‘She used to go sea fishing with her father in Tangier.’

  Dawn was surprised that Jack appeared to have recovered from such a fright, considering Sarah’s history. Nobody would blame him for being angry at her for acting silly and defiant. But there was no more time to discuss the intrigue. ‘Little wonder you rushed back here!’ was all she managed to blurt out before Sarah and Lily arrived beneath the tree.

  ‘Can Lily come for tea, please, this afternoon?’

  ‘That would be nice,’ Jack said with a smile.

  ‘Thank you, but perhaps another time,’ Dawn hastily interjected. ‘I still have my shopping to do.’ Mrs Broome would think she’d been forgotten if she didn’t meet up with her soon.

  ‘Tomorrow?’ Jack suggested. ‘Come to the Grange in the afternoon to have a picnic in the garden.’

  Sarah approvingly clapped her hands and Lily joined in, copying her new friend.

  ‘Very well, tomorrow,’ Dawn agreed. She couldn’t deny her granddaughter an outing that she was already looking forward to. Taking Lily’s hand, she stepped away. ‘Now I must get on before the shops close.’

  Jack helped Sarah aboard the curricle, then turned to Dawn. ‘Tomorrow then. I’ll send a carriage at three o’clock.’

  Dawn walked back along the High Street in the direction of the drapery, quite slowly because Lily was complaining of feeling tired. She was still aware of him...knew exactly when the curricle was approaching. As it passed by Sarah turned to wave a hand. Dawn waved back as did Lily. But her eyes were on the broad back of the driver as the vehicle gained speed and disappeared from view. She knew that she was on his mind as he was on hers. But what good would wishing do them?

  He’d said he’d bring it right...but how could it all end well for everybody? With a sigh beneath her breath Dawn forced herself to concentrate on the mundanities that needed attention. She had Lily’s vests to buy and if the grocery order was ready she must have it loaded on to the cart. In the distance she could see Mrs Broome standing by the pony, having a gossip to somebody. About to speed up in that direction, Dawn hesitated because she had spotted somebody else she knew and had wanted to speak to earlier. Mrs Grove was sitting on a bench outside the local tavern and beside her was the sailor Dawn had noticed by the bakery. Dawn was curious to know who the fellow was and perhaps find out the reason for him staring at Sarah.

  To save Lily’s legs Dawn scooped the child into her arms and quickened her pace towards the tavern.

  ‘Mrs Fenton! Oh, it’s so nice to see you. I thought I spotted you across the road and have been loitering about hoping to bump into you. I never thought the day would come that you’d return to this place.’ Mrs Grove looked thankful that Dawn had taken time to speak to her. She struggled to her feet, using her stick. ‘And how is this little one?’ The woman raised a wrinkly hand to cup the child’s soft cheek. ‘Miss Lily’s looking very bonny.’

  ‘We’re both well, thank you. How have you been, Mrs Grove?’ Dawn asked as the sailor also got to his feet, his cap tucked beneath an arm.

  ‘I’ve a touch of lumbago, but mustn’t grumble.’ Noticing Mrs Fenton glancing at her companion, she tutted. ‘Oh, where are my manners? This is my late brother-in-law’s boy, William. He’s on a visit to his old auntie, aren’t you?’ She patted his sleeve. ‘William’s a sea captain. He’s got his own boat now and is doing good trade.’ The woman looked proud. ‘Fine prospects has William. His parents would be pleased as punch for him. God rest them both. He’s stopping with me as he’s ashore for a while.’ She gave her quiet nephew a nudge. ‘Really you’ve come home to do a bit of fishing, haven’t you, William? He takes his boat out from Wivenhoe and catches us some plump mackerel to cook for supper and plenty left to sell in the market.’

  William was gazing at Lily rather intently and Dawn instinctively drew her granddaughter closer to her skirt.

  ‘I must be off now, Aunt Grove.’ William began to rotate his cap in his hands. ‘I promised to meet a chum and have a drink with him. I’ll be back before supper time.’ He executed a neat bow. ‘I’m pleased to meet you, ma’am.’

  ‘It’s nice to meet you, William,’ Dawn answered, watching him disappear inside the tavern doorway. She believed she’d just discovered the identity of Sarah’s friend...the person the young woman had risked trouble for and who shared her enthusiasm for fishing. Dawn wondered if Jack also knew about William Grove. She believed he did. Jack would have made it his business to find out. William appeared to be some years older than Sarah and not an obvious choice of friend for a young woman to have.

  ‘I’m glad I’ve seen you. I have something for you.’ Mrs Grove’s tone had changed and she was wearing such a grim expression that Dawn forgot all about the woman’s nephew.

  ‘What is it?’ Dawn frowned.

  ‘It’s a letter. If you accompany me home, I’ll give it to you. I live just over there.’ Mrs Grove jabbed her walking stick at a row of cottages adjacent to the Green.

  Dawn had the impression the woman didn’t want to discuss any more of this business out in the open. They set off, Mrs Grove walking quite briskly with the aid of her stick.

  Once inside the spick and span, if spartanly furnished, cottage, Mrs Grove turned to Dawn to ask politely, ‘Would you like some tea, Mrs Fenton?’

  ‘Thank you, no. I’m already late getting back. I got talking to somebody.’

  ‘I saw you with the Viscount and Miss Snow.’ Mrs Grove smiled. ‘She seems too young to be getting wed to a grand man such as he...if you get my drift.’

  ‘I do...yes,’ Dawn said, but was determined not to be drawn into gossip about Jack.

  ‘William has spoken to the young lady. He met her out walking in the meadow. He thinks her very friendly and nice.’ Mrs Grove sighed. ‘Well, no matter about that. This is what I wanted to give to you.’ She opened a drawer in the dresser and took out a letter. ‘I found it in among Mrs Mansfield’s things. I was going to give it to the master. But I didn’t.’ She gave Dawn a significant look. ‘If his wife had wanted him to know of it, she wouldn’t have hidden it in among her chemises, is my thinking.’ She held out the sealed parchment addressed to Dawn. ‘I’m glad I’ve seen you. William promised that he would safely deliver the letter when next he visited the city, but now he won’t need to.’

  Dawn felt her mouth drying as she looked at the message from beyond the grave. What had Eleanor wanted her, but not her husband, to know? She immediately recalled the bruises on her stepdaughter’s arms and Mansfield’s explanation that his wife had got those falling over. Dawn slipped the letter out of sight in a pocket. ‘Thank you for carrying out Eleanor’s final wish.’ Dawn’s voice had turned husky with emotion.

  Mrs Grove nodded. ‘That’s how I saw it, too. Now you take yourself and the little ’un back to London, soon as you can.’ Mrs Grove smiled at Lily. ‘She looks to be blossoming in your care, but she won’t if she stays with him.’

  Dawn knew that was true, but simply said, ‘We must get going. Mrs Broome is waiting for us by the dog cart.’

  ‘Does he know you’ve driven it?’ Mrs Grove raised her eyebrows.

  ‘No...the vicar had gone out so I couldn’t tell him I intended to borrow it.’

  ‘Mrs Mansfield drove herself once without his permission. He didn’t like it. She never took the cart out again.’ Mrs Grove purse
d her lips. ‘Go on now. With any luck you’ll beat him back and he won’t know. God bless you both.’

  Once outside the cottage Dawn waved to Mrs Broome to let the woman know she was at last on her way. Dawn realised that helping herself to the vicar’s dog cart without asking permission might be seen as a liberty. But why should she twiddle her thumbs sitting indoors on a fine afternoon, or tire Lily out from a long walk when there was no need for any of it? She wasn’t his poor bullied wife and neither was she frightened of him. Thoughts of Eleanor caused her to curl her fingers about the letter in her pocket. She was impatient to read it, but knew she must wait and seek the privacy of her bedchamber before opening it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘Ah, there you are, my dear. I have been waiting for you to return.’

  Dawn whipped about in surprise on hearing the vicar addressing his daughter with unusual fondness. He approached them in the dim corridor and she realised it was her he was looking at, not Lily. She wasn’t fooled by his faux amity, or that smile that barely warmed his eyes. Before he could accuse her of appropriating his pony and cart she declared, ‘We have been shopping in town. As the vehicle was idle I borrowed it; it’s too far for Lily to walk. We have brought back the provisions that were needed rather than wait for a delivery. I didn’t think you’d mind.’ That was untrue, she realised. She had known he would mind but if she and Lily had to live in this house they wouldn’t be prisoners in it, too.

  She could tell that she’d taken the wind from his sails with her bold confession. But he gave a shrug, maintaining a mild expression.

  ‘As you say, on this occasion I did not need the cart myself. Another time I might have done so and thus your behaviour would have greatly inconvenienced me.’ Peter glanced at the housekeeper who was in the process of unbuttoning Lily’s coat. ‘Mrs Broome may take the child to the kitchen for some refreshment. If you would come to the study, Mrs Fenton, I should like to talk to you.’

  Dawn’s fingers instinctively tightened on the letter in her pocket. But he couldn’t possibly know about that. Much as she wanted to hurry upstairs to read it she murmured her agreement to a meeting. ‘I will be along in a moment. I am thirsty and would like a drink.’ As he disappeared into his study she let out a breath that she hadn’t realised she’d been holding in. There was something about the vicar’s manner that she found increasingly disquieting.

  Mrs Broome led Lily towards the kitchen and Dawn followed, untying her bonnet. Though she had no wish to go and find out what Peter wanted, Dawn knew she must in case it was favourable news. There was a chance he had got fed up with having his daughter around and wanted Dawn to take the little girl away. She had noticed him scowling yesterday when Lily fell over and started howling. His daughter was a tomboy and as there was no swing to play on in the vicarage’s garden she liked to race around the pathways, chasing the kittens instead.

  ‘Kittens...’ On entering the kitchen a disappointed Lily had immediately rushed to the empty basket.

  Mrs Broome shut the back door that had been ajar. ‘I’m sure I left that bolted before I went out. The master must’ve been down here and forgotten to close it. Be it on his head then if the mice get at the oats before the cats come back.’

  Dawn drank her glass of lemonade, then, leaving Lily in Mrs Broome’s capable hands, went back upstairs to the study. She stood outside for a moment, crossing her fingers that fate would be kind. She longed to hear that the vicar—irritated by his boisterous little daughter’s company—wanted them both gone. She tapped on the door and was summoned inside.

  ‘Please make yourself comfortable.’ Peter indicated a chair while sailing to and fro with his hands clasped behind his back.

  ‘Thank you, but I won’t tarry. Lily is quite tired from her outing and would benefit from a short nap before her tea.’ Another fib. Dawn wouldn’t let Lily sleep this close to her bedtime and risk a restless night.

  ‘As you wish,’ Peter replied stiffly and ceased perambulating. ‘I will get straight down to things then. I have decided the child needs a proper routine. She must be permanently settled with a woman prepared to give her a mother’s care and attention.’

  Dawn’s heart soared. Had her dream come true? Did he mean that Lily could always live with her? ‘I agree, sir, and I believe Lily will continue to benefit from living in London with me.’

  ‘I am grateful to you for your interim assistance, but I want a formal arrangement in the future. The child is young and will in time forget the female who gave her birth and believe the person who is with her is her mother.’

  Dawn took a step closer to him, her optimism already waning. ‘Your daughter is sadly now without her mama, but she has me. I love her as a mother would.’

  ‘But you are not Mrs Mansfield, are you?’

  Dawn stared at him in mounting disbelief. Surely he wasn’t implying he was already considering taking another wife? But as he crossed his arms over his chest, staring challengingly, she realised he indeed meant to remarry. ‘Eleanor is barely laid to rest a few months, sir,’ she gasped. ‘You surely cannot be thinking of replacing her, before even a proper period of mourning has passed?’

  ‘I miss my wife, of course, but life must go on.’ He sighed. ‘We are not fashionable people here, my dear. Etiquette is of little consequence in Wivenhoe. We country folk believe a child needs a mother and it is my duty to find one for her.’

  Dawn made a shocked little noise, almost like a laugh. ‘It seems you have given the matter some thought, sir. Have you a lady in mind?’ She wondered who on earth would be foolish enough to tie herself to him. Of course, he was able to conceal the worst of his character, as he was doing now with his oily smiles and soft voice, but she wasn’t taken in by it.

  ‘You have a natural fondness for her, Mrs Fenton, and as you are a widow and I am a widower...’

  Dawn froze in shock before revulsion shaped her features. She snapped herself to attention, noting anger glinting in his eyes as he read her reaction to his proposal. ‘I must stop you, sir, before you say something that I would find utterly distasteful,’ she rattled off. ‘If you wish to remarry with indecent haste, of course it is your own business, but please understand that I would never welcome you approaching me. Neither do I believe that Lily is in need of a stepmother when she has a grandmother to care for her.’

  Peter cocked his head, resting his chin on a fist. ‘Perhaps I have startled you with the news that I find you pleasing enough to wed,’ he said. ‘I know it is an odd situation. You were married to my father-in-law. But we are not blood kin so there is nothing improper in what I suggest. We are of a similar age and I believe we would have some compatibility...’

  Dawn watched his eyes crawling to her bosom and his tongue snaking between his teeth to wet his lips. Biliousness rolled in her stomach and she felt an urge to flee his presence. But she didn’t. She straightened her shoulders and stood her ground. ‘Unfortunately, I believe the opposite to be true and can only impress on you that I would never want you to repeat what you have just said to me.’ She barely paused before adding with admirable aplomb, ‘Now if you will excuse me. I must take Lily upstairs.’ Though her limbs felt palsied she approached the door quite nimbly. Before she could exit the room Mrs Broome entered it.

  ‘There is a gentleman caller, sir. He said the matter is urgent.’

  ‘Can’t you see I’m busy? If it’s a parishioner, send him away,’ Peter barked with obvious frustration at the interruption.

  ‘It is Lord Sterling, sir.’ Mrs Broome’s tone held a caution.

  ‘And I have no intention of going away no matter how busy you are.’ Jack pushed the door open wider and strode past the housekeeper into the study.

  Dawn stared at him with a mingling of astonishment and relief. She certainly hadn’t been expecting to see him again so soon. She wanted to launch herself into his arms and beg him to spirit her away from this foul
place. But her happiness at being granted the unexpected gift of his company was ebbing away, transforming to anxiety. He was enraged about something, although managing to contain his temper.

  ‘Oh, my extreme apologies, my lord. You are indeed welcome to call at any time.’ Peter’s bowing and scraping prevented him immediately noticing his visitor’s menacing demeanour. Straightening his back, he flicked impatiently at Mrs Broome to dismiss her. ‘I did obey your summons, Lord Sterling, the moment I returned from London.’ He sounded earnest, believing the Viscount tetchy from imagining he’d been ignored. ‘Your servant said you were otherwise engaged, but I certainly intended calling again tomorrow.’

  ‘Well, now you have no need to,’ Jack enunciated through his teeth. He looked at Dawn and his features softened a little.

  Peter intercepted that look and it caused a subtle smile to writhe on his mean lips. One of Dawn’s attractions for him—and there were many—was that she had this influential fellow in the palm of her hand. Peter was confident that she would marry him rather than risk losing contact with the grandchild she adored. When she were under his thumb he would be able to manipulate Lord Sterling through his mistress. Peter wouldn’t object to a peer of the realm bedding his wife when such sweet benefits were to be had from the liaison. Sin, for its own sake, he wouldn’t abide in others and believed such fornicators needed to be severely punished.

  ‘We were just conversing about the child’s welfare,’ Peter explained Dawn’s presence in his study. He wanted her gone in case she alerted the Viscount, before time, to having a rival. ‘The matter is trifling and can wait until later. You may leave us, Mrs Fenton.’

  ‘Mrs Fenton will stay. She should hear what I have to say.’

  ‘Very well...if you wish, my lord. I know you are close friends.’

  Jack was aware of the sly inflection in Mansfield’s remark, but paid it little heed. He was more intent on employing a blazing look to reassure Dawn that she had no reason to fret. Whatever transpired here this afternoon, he still intended to put everything right as he had promised to do. Her spontaneous pleasure at his arrival had shone from her beautiful green eyes just minutes ago. Now it had dimmed; she was watchful, anticipating bad news. And in a moment he would upset her by disclosing why he’d come. Yet this matter had to be dealt with.