To Claim the Long-Lost Lover

by Jude Knight

  She took a deep breath to compose herself. They had sent a message down to the kitchens and up to the nursery to let them know that two more adults would be joining Elias for breakfast. “Thank you, Wilson. That looks very nice,” she told the maid.

  “Beautiful,” Nate agreed. “But you have good material to work with, Wilson.”

  The maid blushed and agreed. “Yes, my lord. I’ll just tidy up here, my lady, shall I?”

  “Thank you, Wilson,” Sarah said again. She caught up the shawl she had ready. The passages of the great house could be chilly at this time of the year. Nate shrugged into his coat, which closely fitted his broad shoulders and chest, but not so tightly he needed assistance to take it on and off. Though she had helped him with his evening jacket last night, and blushed at the thought.

  “What lovely thoughts prompt that delicious colour?” he whispered in her ear, as they left the room arm in arm.

  “I suspect I shall spend much of my life blushing at my thoughts,” she retorted. “You are a bad influence on me, Nate.” She leaned into him, bumping his shoulder with hers.

  “A lifelong ambition fulfilled,” he teased, making her giggle.

  She stopped to check on Charlotte. She was as white as bone, and tense with the stillness that hinted at feared pain if she moved. However, she insisted she was comfortable, and would be able to get up later. “You must both visit me, and tell me how Elias has taken the news,” she insisted. “Now smile, darling. You know I am like this when my inconvenience is on me, and I shall be well directly.”

  Sarah had to smile as she acknowledged the truth of that.

  Nate was waiting in the sitting room. She would never tire of seeing his eyes light up as she came towards him. “How is your sister, my love?”

  “Uncomfortable,” she admitted, “but she will be better tomorrow, or the next day.” She could not resist leaning in to kiss him. “She is happy for us. Let us go and have breakfast with our son.”

  The footman stationed on this wing kept his eyes firmly fixed on the painting opposite him as Sarah and Nate passed. Sarah, who had been leaning on Nate’s arm, straightened, but the joy kept bubbling up in a smile.

  The secondary staircase at the end of the wing was deserted, and they soon let themselves into the main passage that ran through the nursery and schoolroom floor. Sarah sobered at the thought of the explanation to come. She and Nate had discussed it the night before and again this morning.

  They would be honest with Elias from the beginning. They owed him that. But what would he think?

  A footman opened the door into the complex of rooms that formed the nursery. The door opened directly into the day nursery, and Elias, his face painfully clean and beaming with delight, was there to greet them.

  “Mama!” And then, with a glance at his nurse, “Good morning, Mama.” He bowed to Nate, grinning. “Good morning, Lord Bentham. How are your sisters this morning?”

  “They were well when I saw them yesterday, Elias,” Nate told him, while Sarah fought the panic that threatened to close her throat. She masked her anxiety by sweeping forward to sink to her knees and give her son a hug and kiss on the cheek.

  “Now?” Nate asked. Sarah nodded. Best to get it done before she ran screaming from the room.

  “Elias, come and sit by the window. There is something your mother and I wish to tell you.”

  Elias obediently took a seat, and Sarah sat beside him, taking his warm hand in her cold one. Nate squatted on his heels before them. They had agreed that Nate would start the story, and Sarah would add what she felt was needed.

  Before he could speak, Elias said, “She is not truly my mother, sir. But I love her just as if she were.”

  Sarah could not quite account for the tears in her eyes. Regret at the lies her dear son had lived with? Fear of his reaction? Joy at the life before them? Perhaps all of these.

  Nate replied to the boy. “I would like to tell you about your true mother and father, Elias, if you would like to hear.”

  Elias stiffened and went still, his eyes huge in his face. He nodded, a single jerk of his head.

  Nate settled back onto the carpet, his legs crossed at the ankles, his elbows on his knees. The position put him below Elias, so he was looking up into the boy’s anxious face. “First, I should say that Lady Sarah knew some of this, and I knew some, but neither of us knew the whole until we shared what we knew with one another.”

  Elias gave another jerky nod.

  “Your mother was very young when she became acquainted with your father. Just fifteen, and as lovely as a fairy princess. They had seen one another before, when she stayed in the house her father owned near the village where he lived. But her grandfather owned many houses, and this was not a favourite of his. They didn’t come often or stay for long. Until that summer.”

  “Was her grandfather rich?” Elias asked.

  “Very. And important. He was friends with the King and a leader in the House of Lords. Her father was his heir. Your father was not important at all, or rich. He was seventeen, your father. His father was the local vicar, and your father was his father’s steward and errand boy and groom. So your mother was as far out of his reach as the stars in the sky.”

  Sarah took up the tale, unable to resist. “She was lonely, and had nothing to do. She and her sister had been very ill, and they had been sent to the country to rest and recover. When your mother was well again, your aunt still spent most of her days sleeping. Your mother started to wander the woods and the fields near their house.”

  They continued that way, taking it in turns, telling of Nate’s approach to Sarah’s father, of his exile, of his plan and their elopement, their marriage.

  Elias listened without comment until they got to Nate’s beating and abduction, and subsequent career in the navy. “Why didn’t he come back? Didn’t he want me?”

  “He didn’t know about you, Elias.” Nate told him. “He should have come back for his wife, once he could. But it was three years more before he had rank enough for the navy to listen him, and by then he thought her grandfather would have made her marry someone else. He thought coming back would make trouble for her.”

  Elias turned his attention to Sarah. Had he guessed what they were about, or was it just it was her turn to tell a part of the story. “Didn’t my mother want me?”

  “Very much. When she knew you were coming, she was frightened of what her grandfather might do, but she was very happy to think she would have you to love. You were taken from her when you were born.” The tears that had been threatening throughout the recital overflowed. “They wouldn’t even let me hold you. I spent years trying to find you. I thought about you every day.”

  “You?” Elias’s voice was hushed and strained. “You are my true mama?” He drew away from her, just a little. She put out her hand, but stopped herself from touching him.

  “I am your true mama. I was so happy when Mrs Wakefield found you for me, Elias.”

  “You did not tell me.” It was a cry of sorrow, flavoured with a world of betrayal.

  “Elias,” Nate said it again, when Elias didn’t shift his disappointed eyes away from Sarah. “Elias.” This time, the boy turned to him. “Elias, your mama told me what they said to you at the house party; what they said at the workhouse.”

  No answer, but Nate continued, “She did not know I was alive, believed what her grandfather told her, that we were not truly married. She would have told you the truth when you were older; when she could be sure you would not accidentally speak of it to someone who would use the knowledge to say things that hurt. Someone who tried to make you ashamed of who you are. Do you understand what I mean?”

  Elias thought about that and his body softened until he was leaning against Sarah, and her arms were around him. “I suppose so. That old grandfather was a bad, bad man.”

  “He was,” Nate agreed.

  “When did you find out that Mama had me?” Elias demanded, but he did not try to leave Sarah’s emb
race.

  “Two days ago,” Nate told him. “Someone had mentioned a ward, but it wasn’t until I heard how old you were that I guessed.”

  Again, those accusing eyes. “Why did you not tell him, Mama?”

  And once more, Nate answered for her. “Your mama and I had not seen one another for seven years. She needed to know I was still a man who could love you and her, and be kind to you both. She could not trust your safety to just anyone.”

  Elias relaxed again, thinking that over, while Sarah used the handkerchief that Nate passed her to mop her eyes. After a while, the boy spoke again, his shy smile at last in evidence. “Is Norie my cousin, then, Father?”

  At the form of address, Nate’s eyes filled, and he had to clear his throat before he could reply. “She and her sisters are my half-sisters, my son, so they are your aunts.”

  Elias sat up straight at that, his eyebrows shooting up. “My aunts? That is ridiculous.” He shook his head. “One of them is just a baby. Can we go and visit my aunts, Mama?”

  Sarah looked a question at Nate, who answered, “I will send a message to my stepmama, Lady Lechton, and ask when would be convenient, Elias. I know both she and my father, your grandfather, are anxious to meet you.”

  * * *

  The revelation to Elias had gone better than Nate expected. Over breakfast, he answered question after question about his family, his life in the navy and his work as a doctor. Elias said nothing about the future, but surely he must wonder?

  Nate introduced the topic. “Your mother and I have not yet talked about where the three of us will live now that we’ve found one another again,” he said.

  The flare of hope in Elias’s eyes was unmistakable. “I am to come with you?” he asked.

  “You are our son. The three of us belong together,” Sarah told him.

  “We have been robbed of so many years,” Nate added. “I want you and I want your mother. I want us to be a family.” Sarah nodded and so did Elias, and when it was time to leave Elias to his lessons, he gave Sarah a hug, hesitated, then stepped into Nate’s welcoming arm, for a hug that turned into a friendly wrestle.

  Sarah took the moment to speak to the nursemaid. Nate didn’t think Elias, currently consumed with giggles, was listening, but he heard Sarah tell the maid to feel free to discuss the story she’d heard with the other servants. “We will not be announcing our marriage until the ball at the end of the week, but after that, we want to spread the news of our marriage and of Elias’s parentage as far and as quickly as possible,” she said.

  “Poor Morris,” she commented to Nate as they left. “Elias is going to have trouble focusing this morning, and who can blame him?”

  “Who, indeed? I feel that way myself,” Nate said.

  He continued on down the stairs while Sarah went to check on her sister. He found Lord Andrew in the breakfast room, finishing his breakfast while reading the morning paper. “My father is in his study, Bentham. He wishes to talk to you about settlements.”

  “Will you let Sarah know where I’ve gone?” Nate asked.

  The duke had a hot pot of coffee waiting for him to drink, and a draft marriage settlement for him to read. “This is a close copy of the one we prepared for my daughter Ruth, Bentham. Or can I call you Nathaniel?”

  “Nate, Your Grace, if it pleases you.”

  “Nate, then, and I am Uncle James to my nieces, and to you, if you will. Read it through, Nate, and let me know if you have any concerns.”

  He began to read through the first sheet of the neatly written stack of pages. “Has Sarah read this, sir?”

  “You wish her to do so?” the duke asked.

  James looked up to see the man smiling. “I do, Your Gr–Uncle James.” He had better get used to the familiar form of address. “She will have an opinion, I am sure.”

  “Good man,” Uncle James replied. “My niece is an independent young woman, and I am pleased you realise that.”

  “You should know that I am not in need of her dowry, sir. My inheritance from my mother’s father was invested during my minority, and I have added to it the prize money I received over the years. I have an independent income that will keep her and Elias, and any further children we have, in comfort until I inherit my father’s estate, which is substantial.”

  Uncle James raised his eyebrows. “Indeed? I understood from your father that you were dependent on an allowance. He told me that he would reinstate it even though you went against his wishes, since your rebellion has resulted in a grandson.”

  Nate grinned. “My father’s threats to remove my allowance would be more effective if he had ever actually paid me one. He has not, and I do not need it.”

  “I see.” The duke sat back to sip his coffee, and Nate continued reading the settlement papers, which seemed very fair.

  He was interrupted when a knock on the door heralded Sarah. She wore a bonnet and pelisse over a walking dress, and was drawing gloves onto her hands.

  “Darling,” he said, “you are in time to help me argue marriage settlements with your uncle.”

  Sarah smiled, but replied, “I would like to look at them later, but may I leave you to it, Nate? Uncle James? Charlotte has had a message from one of the businesses that gives employment to her school pupils. There is a question of theft, apparently. The proprietor is insisting on seeing Charlotte immediately, or she will be calling the constables.”

  Uncle James nodded. “Charlotte has asked you to go in her place?”

  “No. She was trying to get dressed to go herself. She is certain it must be a mistake. I told her to behave, and I would do the errand for her.”

  “May I escort you?” Nate asked, taking her hand.

  “You finish what you are doing,” Sarah insisted. “I have a coachman, a footman and my guard, and I should not be above an hour.” She reached up and kissed his cheek. “Send that message to your father, Nate. I will be back in plenty of time to take Elias to meet him this afternoon.”

  16

  Maggie Wilton ran a stable of seamstresses and embroiderers out of an attic five floors up in a rickety building on an obscure little alley in Clerkenwell. The coachman had to stop in the broader street beyond the alley, and he stayed nervously with the horses, his musket over his knees.

  Yahzak argued that he should run the errand on his own; that the lady should not be going into such a narrow space. “I will fetch the girl, and this Wilton woman will not stop me,” he assured her. John, the footman, nodded. “Or I could go, my lady.”

  Sarah was very tempted to take them up on the offer. She wanted the errand over and done so she could return to Nate. But she had promised Charlotte to see to it. “If the constables are already there, they will listen to a duke’s niece, but not to either of you. And you will keep me safe.” It was a poor street, but not an impossible one. The houses were rundown and ramshackle, but the front steps and windows were clean, and no more rubbish littered the corners than might collect in a day or two.

  “It is one woman and a dozen girls, Yahzak Bey,” Sarah pointed out.

  “I go first,” he decreed. “If I see anything suspicious, we return to the carriage.”

  He led the way, one hand inside his coat where his pistol hid, and the other on the knife in his pocket.

  Sarah followed, and John brought up the rear.

  The building was typical for the area—a shop on the ground floor, a street door to the side of it onto a stairway that led up to flats above. Sarah glanced back, but the carriage was out of sight. The stairwell smelt of cabbage, but not of the worse things Sarah sometimes encountered on her rescue visits.

  The stairs turned tightly, with two flights for each storey and a door opening into a flat on every second landing. They climbed past the sounds of children crying, then of a woman singing in a foreign language, and then of a man and woman arguing.

  On the next floor, with only two flights to go to the top, the door was partly open but all was silent within. Yahzak paused and gave the door a
suspicious glare, then continued up the stairs, peering ahead. “I hear talking,” he reported.

  Sarah could, too: the hum of female voices coming from the attic above. She turned the corner to the final flight of stairs, speeding her climb so close to her goal.

  She was on Yahzak’s heels when he knocked on the open door and stepped into the room beyond. When he dropped like a stone, the man who had hit him was able to reach through and drag her, struggling and shouting, into the attic. She tried to get her hand into her reticule, but dropped it in the struggle. A dozen young girls sat on low chairs, fabric over their laps, their needles poised in the air, their eyes wide, and their mouths open.

  Sarah screamed her fear and anger. The man who held her jerked the arm around her throat. “Shut up, bitch, or I’ll break your neck.”

  Yahzak lay just inside the door, the club his assailant had used to fell him beside him. She could not tell whether he still lived. Beyond him, a thin-faced woman with narrow eyes and a sour expression watched the scene as if it were a play, and not an entertaining one.

  “You are making a mistake,” Sarah said. The man jerked her head back, a brutal warning. Behind him, the clump of boots heralded the arrival of more men. At least two, perhaps three. Not John, who was wearing shoes. John must have been assaulted, too.

  “Gag her and bind her,” her captor ordered, and another bulky brute moved into view to shove a cloth into the mouth her captor forced open. It tasted foul, and she tried to spit it out, but he was tying it in place with another cloth around her head. Her fear receded at the indication she was not immediately to be killed, or perhaps it was just swamped by her rising anger.

  While all eyes were on her head, she kicked the reticule, and the pistol it contained, so it slid across the room to the row of seamstresses. One of them quickly covered it with her skirt. Perhaps they would be able to use it to save John and Yahzak.

  The man who held her tied her hands together, and then her feet, before hoisting her over his shoulder. She caught a glimpse of two other men, also hard brutes. Four men to take out her and her escort. It was, of course, a trap, but what for? Ransom?