“Until you turn twenty-five, the money belongs to the trust.” He chuckled at her outrage. “When I first saw your forged requests for funds, I was completely amazed. The M’s were undeniably mine.” He tut-tutted as if she were a contrary child who needed discipline. “How do you think I should punish you?”
“It’s my money,” she hissed.
“The kitten has claws.” His pupils had dilated to a point where only a sliver of blue was visible. He tilted his head and regarded her. A gentle smile broke across his handsome face. “You’d like my punishment. It’d be similar to the kiss I bestowed upon your sweet lips earlier to dissuade you of thinking of your stitches. But I’d take more from you than just a gentle press of lips against lips.”
“I’m not a kitten.” She inhaled deeply. “Nor am I yours to play with.”
He laughed, and the rich sound filled the study. “Indeed. Neither is my signature. Your little act must cease. I’ve instructed my solicitor to allow your one-thousand-pound request and have it deposited into your account. Do whatever you want with it. I’ll start putting the estate back into profitable working order. However, I want a full accounting on what you’ve spent so far. Understood?”
She had no choice but to nod in agreement. Today, she had teetered as if on a precipice with no one to catch her. Why should now be any different? Life always dealt her a hand where she struggled daily while not having a clue about the future. Her pulse galloped at the realization he knew everything she’d done. She concentrated on the exotic wood crown molding that surrounded the study’s ceiling. Every foot of wood contained a carved pattern of the Parthenon. Normally when she studied the columns, she found a familiar comfort, but not tonight.
“I don’t want to see any more documents with my forged signature come across my desk.” His voice softened. “I’ll not be pleased.”
She pursed her lips. This time she didn’t nod her acquiescence.
“How’s your pain?” he asked in a quiet voice that rumbled with some emotion she couldn’t identify.
“Worse than when I came in here.”
“Take this and drink half of it tonight.” He extended the flask in an obvious gesture that she should accept. “Tomorrow, drink the other half before bed. The day after you shouldn’t need it. If there’s any sign of infection, send word to me. We’ll have a doctor attend you.”
The hum of his voice required she respond. With a brisk nod, she accepted the brandy.
His gaze caught hers. “Thank you for dinner. Your family was gracious to welcome me.”
“It was our pleasure,” she whispered. Her heart still hadn’t settled after the revelation that he was fully aware that she’d tried to embezzle the astronomical amount of a thousand pounds from her own trust fund and forged his name.
He nodded and turned toward the door. He faced her once again with his brow crinkled in neat worry lines. “March, things will change for the better. You’ll not have to carry this burden alone for much longer, I promise.”
Without waiting for an answer, he strolled out of the room.
She pressed her eyes closed and waited for the pain to consume her again. What exactly was he promising?
Chapter Seven
McCalpin waited in his father’s study after the summons had arrived earlier in the day. As a boy, then as a young man, he’d often heeded his father’s call and waited in the spacious, masculine domain of the Duke of Langham for discussions, reprimands, and even celebrations. Every time he walked into the house, a familiar energy resonated deep within its walls, but for the first time ever, he could not ignore the innate silence that had descended. Only his brother remained living at Langham Hall with his parents. The rest of the family had moved on and started their own families.
Several years ago, his older cousin, Claire, who grew up with him, married Alexander Hallworth, the Marquess of Pembroke. Then his younger sister, Emma, married Nicholas St. Mauer, the Earl of Somerton and heir to the Duke of Renton. Claire was raising a family, and Emma was expecting her first. The family he had always cherished was changing and adding new generations.
A powerful sense of restlessness coursed through his veins. He had always known he must marry and produce an heir for the duchy, but he’d pushed such a thought into the future. Not anymore. The time had come for a serious consideration of a wife.
“McCalpin?” William stood before him. “You’re daydreaming.”
“I’ve got several things on my mind.” McCalpin exhaled. “I’m glad you’re here. When I visited the Lawson family earlier in the week, I could only come to one conclusion. I’ve petitioned the Court of Chancery for guardianship over Lord Lawson and his family.”
“Your little embezzler?” A smile broke across his brother’s face as he took the seat next to McCalpin.
His lips twitched as his gaze settled on the wide expanse of Langham Park before him. The carefully manicured lawns, exotic plants, and magnificent trees didn’t hold his focus. A tall, lushly curved, dark-haired farmer had taken command of his thoughts. He could still taste her delicious mouth that hinted of fresh peppermint. Her soft skin rivaled the most luxurious cashmere. He closed his eyes, remembering the silent “O” she’d made with that luscious mouth when he’d called her kitten.
He shook his head to leash his wandering musings. “Will you help me?”
“If you’ll wipe that foolish grin from your face, then absolutely.” William winged an eyebrow. “Same type of help?”
McCalpin nodded. “I’ll need to present a full accounting on the state of the viscountcy.”
The Duke of Langham strolled in with his wife on his arm. Each was a powerful presence on their own, but when combined as a united front, they were a force even the Prince Regent could not dissuade. Both he and William stood when they entered.
Obviously, he had misconstrued the summons. He believed this was nothing more than a call to go over their respective schedules for the next couple of months. His father had insisted he start to take a more active role in the duchy. With his mother present, the summons wasn’t as innocuous as he first had believed.
“You’re looking well.” The Duchess of Langham smiled fondly and took his hands before she kissed his cheek.
“Duchess, you are as beautiful as always.” He returned her kiss.
“We understand you’ve assumed financial responsibility for the young Viscount Lawson and his sisters?” she queried.
“Yes. When the old trustee died, the documents named the Marquess of McCalpin as successor. Obviously, they must have meant Uncle Michael and not me. However, the family is in serious straights. I petitioned the Court of Chancery for the guardianship for the young viscount and his sisters. Do you know the family?”
The duchess gracefully sat in the chair next to McCalpin. His father sat at his desk and waved a hand for William to join them. “Lord Lawson’s father was the unofficial envoy to the new United States. He came home after Grenville, who served as foreign secretary to the Crown, appointed George Hammond.” He furrowed his brows. “He was a friend of my brother from university, and his father, the old viscount, was a friend of my father. Do you know who was named their guardian?”
McCalpin sat in one of the chairs in front of the duke’s mahogany desk and extended one leg. “I had Russell research their situation. Apparently, after Lord Burns passed, no one came forward to take the responsibility.”
A grin broke across the duke’s face. “Well, it’s a huge responsibility, but one that needs to be addressed. I’m glad you realize what’s required and are ready to make the commitment to their family.”
With a tilt of her head, he became his mother’s sole focus, which was never a good sign. It meant she’d taken a personal interest in the development. “It’s a shame there aren’t any family members who would step forward. What are their ages?”
Ah, well, if he was going to follow through on his promise, he needed to make the full commitment. “The viscount is nine, and his middle and youngest si
sters are nineteen and eighteen. I’m not really certain the age of the eldest sister. She said she’s twenty-five and demanded I release her money immediately. She claimed she was a year older than the documents state.”
“What did you do?” The duke looked through a pile of correspondence on his desk. When he looked up, his gaze cut to McCalpin’s as if this was a test, and he wanted the right answer.
McCalpin leaned back in his chair. He’d been through this so many times before that it made little difference how he answered. The duke would somehow turn his words into an opportunity for a lecture on responsibility and duty. “I refused. She wants to introduce her sisters into society and bring the young viscount to London.”
The duchess stole a glance at her husband before addressing McCalpin. “How do you know she wasn’t telling the truth? Her desire to establish her sisters in society and bring her brother to town seems that she’s taken the responsibility for their welfare to heart.”
The fact the Lawson family suffered caused him a deep shame. Even though they’d suffered for years before he became involved was little comfort. He should have personally seen to their welfare earlier instead of sending March to his solicitor.
However, last night had been a turning point. March’s quandary that her family would eat the remains from their cat’s latest kill made him angry with Lord Burns and truthfully with himself for his own lack of action. Today, he would change the Lawson’s fortunes for the better.
He shrugged his shoulders. Neither of his parents would leave the matter be unless they knew the specifics. He would satisfy their curiosity without telling them how the young woman had forged his name to acquire funds. “She claimed the trust documents were written in error. I believe it was just too convenient of an excuse. I explained that she had to deliver proof before I’d release the monies.”
“As the future Duke of Langham, it’s expected that you will take over the responsibility.” The duke looked to his duchess. “Lord Burns never left his estate. A complete recluse. Rumors were he was insane.” He shook his head. “At the end, the poor man didn’t recognize any of his staff and couldn’t remember anything, not even what he’d eaten at his last meal.”
The duchess patted McCalpin’s hand. “That poor family probably hasn’t had any attention in years.”
The duke leaned back in his chair, and his blue eyes twinkled in delight. “Seems you’ll have to participate in the upcoming social Season with the sisters. Perhaps you’ll find a wife this year.”
At the mention of “wife,” McCalpin stood. “All in good time, Father. Besides, I’ve not been appointed guardian yet.”
The duchess delivered one of her brightest smiles. “It’s not a question of if you become their guardian but when.” She looked to her husband with pure delight. “Could any of your friends help make McCalpin’s appointment come sooner? We’ll help introduce the young ladies into society. I’ll contact Lady Jersey for vouchers to Almack’s.”
“Madame, please don’t—”
“Son, you know your mother. Once she makes a plan, there’s no stopping her.” The duke gazed upon his wife with a roguish smile. “Where will the family stay when they arrive in town?”
McCalpin furrowed his brow and shot a look to Will. His brother shrugged his shoulders.
“I hadn’t really considered the situation. Perhaps I’ll hire a chaperone since the oldest daughter, Miss March Lawson, wants to open the family townhouse.”
“That won’t due. She’s a friend of Emma’s.” His mother straightened in her chair and glanced at her husband. “They should reside here. It’d be a pleasure to introduce them to society.”
Within the span of a minute, everything started to spiral out of his control. “Wait! What, Mother—”
“Excellent idea, Ginny,” his father added. He stole a glance at McCalpin and smiled. “An efficient way of killing two birds with one stone, as they say. You can escort your young charges and help me court some of the naysayers to my child labor law petition.”
More like killing two hares with one swipe of a paw.
His parents had completely outmaneuvered him. There was one thing he hated almost as much as numbers—dances and balls and other frivolous entertainments designed to make it easy for husband-hunting misses to prey upon the bachelors of society. Unfortunately, he was one of those bachelors. With his parents in support of March’s plan, he would soon be forced into the lion’s den—the ton and all its horrid splendor.
“The guardianship comes at the perfect time.” His father’s steely gaze foretold that things were going to get more complicated than they already were. The air thickened with tension, reminding him of the days when he’d come into this room for a lecture on the proper behavior expected of the ducal heir.
Will finally spoke after being uncharacteristically quiet. “Father, I mentioned to McCalpin your plans for dinner next week.”
His father narrowed his eyes. Obviously, he wanted to approach McCalpin without any forewarning. “I’ll expect you to have dinner here practically every day since your wards will be staying here.”
“I have no objection to taking whatever steps necessary to help the Lawson family, but I have no expectations you and Mother should be involved in this responsibility.”
His mother smiled sweetly. “It’s no bother, McCalpin. I’ll enjoy having a full house again.”
His father nodded in agreement. “Plus, you and I can work after dinner most nights before we attend the formal functions. It’s my opinion you should take a seat in the House of Commons. Such an opportunity would be perfect preparation for the House of Lords. By the way, Severin found several discrepancies in the McCalpin Manor accounts. You need to have a conversation about that. I’m sure it’s just a bookkeeping error, but it’s best not to let these things fester.”
McCalpin made a silent bow and left his father’s study.
Will followed. “I’ll look at the books this week.”
“Thank you.”
“When are you sending for the family?” William’s tone indicated he treaded carefully with his question.
“I sent a note and a carriage filled with food and necessities to Lawson Court this morning. I informed March I’d be in contact next week about the specific date. They’ll need dresses, shoes”—he shrugged his shoulders—“all the assorted and necessary fripperies.”
He should have gone to McCalpin Manor for the winter. Only there could he enjoy some semblance of peace.
All of this was Miss March Lawson’s fault. If she didn’t have such kissable lips or deep-chocolate eyes, he could have escaped his parents’ demands. Now, captured like that hare in Maximus’s jaws, he would spend the next several months in town.
Perhaps luck would favor him, and the ladies would find matches relatively quickly. Then he could pass the guardianship to one of their husbands. When he mounted his horse, an image of March dancing with a faceless eligible bachelor popped into his thoughts, and unease crowded his thoughts.
It was beyond foolish to become jealous. He had strict requirements for a wife, and a known embezzler did not fit the bill.
No matter how delightful her kisses.
* * *
Mrs. Oliver quickly cut the stitches, and for the first time in days, March could actually clasp her hand in a fist. She released her breath and smiled at the kind servant. “Thank you. I have quite a bit of work that won’t wait any longer.”
Bennett rushed into the kitchen. “Come quick, March. One of McCalpin’s fancy footmen is in the entry with a carriage full of food and a note for you.”
She hadn’t heard from the marquess since his visit several days ago and had thought he’d forgotten they existed. It wouldn’t have been the first time, but once again, he’d surprised her. She followed Bennett and accepted the note from the footman.
Written in his distinctive hand, the marquess simply directed they pack and prepare for his further instructions. He would send a carriage to retrieve them within t
he week. The food and other necessities were for their convenience until they found themselves settled in town. He’d signed it with a simple M, and the parting words that she could fill in the rest of the letters for him. Her signature was better than his was.
Her heart beat faster at his kindness and blatant teasing. She could almost hear the deep rumble in his voice, the one that reached deep inside and caused every particle of her body to stand at attention. With a sigh, she carefully placed the letter in her pocket.
With two coachmen and the footman working efficiently, a generous mountain of food, exotic teas, and bottles of wine soon crowded every available space within the kitchen. Mrs. Oliver and Bennett carefully inspected the goods. Their respective “oohs” and “ahhs” added to the excitement. It was difficult to determine whose face was brighter. Both Mrs. Oliver and Bennett glowed with pure joy at the cornucopia of culinary riches. Indeed, they’d all dine well tonight.
* * *
After they finished a fine dinner of delicious smoked ham, beetroots, peas, and roasted potatoes, a magnificent dessert sat before them. To Bennett’s absolute delight, he had two servings of the vanilla blancmange covered in crushed almonds.
At the end of the meal, March relaxed and smiled for the first time in ages. Her family’s sighs of contentment joined together like voices in a church choir. After they cleaned the remnants of the feast, she retired to her room.
As she prepared a thorough list of what would be required to move to London, her thoughts returned to McCalpin. She couldn’t wait to thank him properly for all he’d done. Without his assistance, she’d still be wrestling with how to manage the move, keep her family fed, and stave off Rupert’s attention from their dire circumstances.
A soft knock brought her out of her musings. Faith and Julia popped their heads around the door. Their faces were alight with joy.
“Are we interrupting?” Julia asked.
March shook her head and slipped the marquess’s note into her reticule. “Join me. I didn’t know I could eat that much at one meal.”
The Luck of the Bride--The Cavensham Heiresses Page 9