The Hawk and the Jewel (Kensington Chronicles 1)

by Lori Wick

  Brandon rose from the chair in his grandfather’s study and went to embrace the man. They both took chairs then, and the old man’s eyes twinkled as he spoke again.

  “How are you going to court this girl if you can’t keep track of her long enough to introduce her to me?”

  Brandon smiled in return. “I think you’re forgetting she’s only 14.”

  “Fourteen?” The duke was truly surprised. Why had he thought Sunny Gallagher was nearing 17? “Is she really that young?”

  “Indeed she is, but aside from that, she’s also like a sister to me.”

  “She’s no more your sister than Andrea is mine,” the duke informed him.

  “That’s quite true, but it doesn’t change a thing.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning,” Brandon spoke good-naturedly, “I’ve no reelings for her beyond that of a beloved baby sister.”

  “Hmm, I suppose that’s true,” the duke reluctantly conceded. “So when are you going to quit roaming the seas and look for a wife? I want to see my great-grandson.”

  Brandon shrugged but didn’t reply. It was a longstanding exchange between them, and even though his grandfather was serious about wanting to see the future Duke of Briscoe, Brandon also knew that the older man would never want him to rush into a hasty union just to sec the family line continue. They proceeded to talk for the next hour, giving Brandon’s mother and Sunny plenty of time alone.

  “This is Thomas Brent. We were married for four years when he suffered a collapse. The doctors said it was his heart and that they could do nothing. He was with me only another six months.”

  “Why did Brandon never mention him to me?”

  “I’m sure it was an innocent oversight on his part. You’ve had so many people to meet, and Thomas had no family. He and I never had children. Brandon was probably trying to keep things simple for you.”

  Sunny studied the man in the painting, very pleased that Lady Andrea had shown her the portrait of her second husband. He had hair the color of new straw, and even though his mouth was in a straight line, laughter seemed to lurk behind his eyes. Sunny thought he must have been a joyful man. She turned to say as much to Andrea but found her staring at her late husband’s picture, a wistful expression in her eyes.

  “I’ve been very blessed by God,” she said softly. “I’ve loved and been loved twice in my life.”

  “Thomas BrentandBrandon’s father,” Sunny stated quietly.

  Andrea turned back to her as though just remembering her presence. “Yes. Brandon’s father.” She led the way out of her sitting room into the hall and down four doors to a very masculine bedroom. Over the mantel hung a portrait of Edgar Hawkesbury. This time it was Sunny’s turn to stare.

  He was an older version of Brandon in nearly every way. His hair was dark but peppered with gray, and his eyes were penetrating. His features were nearly identical with Brandon’s aquiline nose and strong, almost stubborn jaw.

  “IVe been told we look alike,” a masculine voice said from the doorway, “so you be careful with your comments on that portrait.”

  Andrea turned with a huge smile, but Sunny’s look was hesitant. So this was Brandon’s grandfather, the man who had been near death not six days ago. He was unsmiling now, and Sunny was unsure of what to make of him.

  “You mustn’t tease this girl, Milton,” Andrea admonished him, her own voice teasing. “She won’t want to come back.”

  The old man’s eyes, probing now, studied Sunny until her chin rose ever so slightly. The duke chuckled. “I think she’s made of sterner stuff than that, Andrea.”

  “You’re probably right,” the lovely widow agreed with a grin. “Sunny, allow me to introduce you to my father-in-law, the Duke of Briscoe. Milton, this is Lady Sunny Gallagher.”

  “You’ve the look of your grandmother,” the old man stated as he took her hand. “She was a woman I greatly admired.”

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  Sunny wasn’t sure how to reply to this, but she was saved from embarrassment when Brandon appeared behind his grandfather. Andrea saw the look of relief on Sunny’s face, and was struck with how hard all of this must be for her. She was so good at hiding her feelings that Andrea, in just an hour’s time, had completely forgotten J that Sunny was English only by birth.

  As the four made their way downstairs for tea, Andrea meditated on how much the right hairstyle and clothing could do for a person. To look at Sunny, one would think she was English bornandbred. Andrea felt terrible over not having fully grasped this before. Brandon had described their journey in great detail, but not until she had seen the young look of uncertainty on her face did Andrea stop and think how it might feel to beintroducedto one’s family. It gave her pause, and although she was talkative during tea, her heart was very prayerful.

  The Lord saw to Andrea’s prayers just an hour later when she found herself alone with Sunny once again. When they had come from the conservatory earlier, Sunny had been so taken with the rooms of Bracken that it had seemed an awkward time to try to discuss her mother, but suddenly Sunny was ready. In fact she opened the conversation.

  “Why are there no children between Heather and me? Fourteen years is a long time.”

  “You’re right, it is,” the older woman agreed. “When Katherine learned you were on the way, she was quite amazed. Her pregnancy and delivery with Heather were very difficult, and the doctor said there would be no more babies. God must have had other plans, however. Whatever the problem was, it healed, and news of your coming was greeted with great surprise.”

  “Did they want me?**

  “Oh, Sunny,” Andrea’s voice grew tender. “I’m sorry if I made it sound otherwise. Your parents were thrilled, as were your siblings. Your nursery was next to your parents* room, and your mother and I spent hours in that room talking and planning.”

  “What kind of plans?** Sunny was fascinated with this glimpse of the past.

  “Your name, for instance. She and your father never had a single cross word over it. A boy was to be Evan, and a girl was to be Sunny.”

  **Who was Evan? Grandmama Sunny’s husband?” That’s right. He died years before you were born, but he was a wonderful family man with a godly spirit and a true love for all near

  him.”

  “My father wanted me too?” Sunny had to know.

  “Oh, my,” Andrea spoke warmly. “You should have seen his face after you arrived. He couldn’t take his eyes from you. He exclaimed over and over how much you forget about babies once your children grow older. Willows’ End, always a place of joy, rang with laughter and delight upon your arrival.”

  There wasn’t anything Andrea could have said that would have affected Sunny more. Her parents loved her, and she had been born at Willows’ End. She was suddenly filled with a full, warm rush of feelings.

  Just looking at her, Andrea could tell nothing, but progress was being made. Sunny was slowly accepting her new life and coming to truly believe that England was her home and that her family loved her dearly.

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  THE FAMILYLOUNGED AROUND THEHUNTINGLODGE as though they

  lived there day in and day out. Holly had the twins in the loft, but Heather, Foster, Rand, Chelsea, and Miles were in the great room sipping cups of strong tea. The topic of conversation had roamed greatly, but at the moment Sunny was on everyone’s mind.

  “Are you worried about the future?” Rand asked his brother-in-law.

  “A little,” Foster admitted. “We’ve gone nonstop from the moment she arrived, and now that we’re heading home tomorrow, I wonder how she’ll adjust to routine.”

  “Holly and I talked briefly,” Chelsea interjected. “She told me Sunny seemed most impressed with her stitchwork. Maybe after you go she’ll be ready to settle down and learn some of the gentler arts. Has she shown any interest in music?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.” Heather spoke now. “We’re going to redecorate her room, but that won’t take more than a
month. She seems to genuinely enjoy the twins, but I realize we’re a young home for her.”

  They fell silent and then Rand spoke, measuring his words with care. “I have something I’d like to share with you, and I think you know me well enough to realize this is no criticism on my part. Chelsea and I talked about it, and I want you to know how much I would love for Sunny to live with us. This is no reflection on your parenting skills; you understand that, don’t you, Heather?”

  “Of course.”

  Rand nodded with satisfaction and went on. “I’m not really sure when it hit me, but since Sunny is the age of my own two, I’ve always felt like shewetsone of my own. I’m praying you’ll all be very happy and that she will settle in and be most content in London. But please know that if the time ever comes when you think she would do better at Willows’ End, you don’t even need to ask.”

  “Thank you, Rand,” Foster responded in all sincerity. “We hope that she will love London and our home as well, but we also have discussed this between us and with Brandon, and we want what’s best for Sunny.”

  They talked on for some time, all four adults freely sharing their thoughts. Miles sat quietly, not expected to add to the conversation -something for which he was most thankful. When it came to his Aunt Sunny, he couldn’t seem to think straight.

  *

  The gift exchange with the duke was a quiet affair, everyone intent on not tiring him. Milton was not unaware of his grandchildren’s effort on his behalf, and since he did tend to tire in the late afternoon, he was all too happy to keep the festivities brief.

  Sunny and Brandon had not gotten away early enough to join the family at the hunting lodge, but they rode back from Bracken to Willows’ End with everyone who was going on horseback. In the best of spirits, Foster drove a two-horse buggy with his own girls and Holly, since the latter was none too keen on horses and his girls were too young to take the saddle for such a long ride.

  Everyone else rode on horseback. Sunny felt as though she’d been set free as Brandon boosted her onto the back of a lovely little spirited mare. Her name was Pepper, and with the way she tossed her fine head she clearly showed how she liked the light load on her back.

  The group set off, and within moments Sunny and Chelsea were in a race to the footbridge up the trail. Chelsea’s horse, a large gelding, won easily, but Sunny didn’t care. It felt so good to gallop as she had in Darhabar, and this time with permission. Since she was not to be anywhere near the stables in Darhabar, she had always “borrowed” a horse against her father’s wishes.

  “So what do you think of her?” Brandon called to Sunny as he came abreast of the two women.

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  “She’s wonderful,” Sunny told him with sparkling eyes. “I could go for hours.”

  Chelsea laughed and looked at her brother with mischief in her eyes. “You really should let Sunny ride the Captain, Hawk. She’s quite experienced, and it would give her a great thrill.’*

  “Oh, Brandon, could I?” Sunny immediately loved the idea, but Brandon was scowling at his grinning sister.

  Most members of his family were completely without fear when it came to horses, and were in tact excellent horsemen. But Brandon was of the old school that believed a woman was to be coddled. You did not put a woman on the back of a horse like Captain, or Rand*s stallion, Jackson.

  “It’s out of the question, Sunny,” Brandon told her and shot another reproving look at his sister. “Chelsea can goad me all she wants, but I think this animal is too much for a woman, or even for a small man.”

  Chelsea did not look the least bit repentant, and she deliberately moved her horse into Brandon’s path to cut him off. He reined in sharply before catching onto her trick. Chelsea had dug her heels into the flanks of her own horse and shot off like a bullet. Brandon rose to the challenge, and Sunny, knowing she hadn’t a chance of catching them, heeled her mount to give chase.

  Most of the ride back to Willows* End was made in short races with much laughter. A few miles from home everyone slowed to walk their horses. Sunny couldn’t remember when she’d had such fun.

  The servants evidently had a wonderful time themselves, for they were also in high spirits as the family returned. Sunny, as did the rest of the household, had a bath before dinner and, possibly because it was the last night, had the best evening of her entire visit.

  *

  “Your mother says your brother is coming to London for a time.”

  “Cecil or Marcus?” Foster wanted to know.

  “Cecil.”

  Sunny heard their conversation but paid little attention. They had been home from Rand’s for nearly three weeks, and Sunny was intent on learning to sew like Holly. Heather had mentioned the possibility when they had become resettled, and Sunny had jumped

  at the idea. Heather would have been surprised to find that Sunny had not done so out of genuine interest but because she so wanted to fit in and to please her sister.

  So far, the skill had eluded her. She was forever stabbing herself in the hand or finger, and she was always in too much of a hurry. More often than not, her thread was in a mass of knots and her colors all ran together like a painting in the rain.

  “Having trouble?” Heather asked when she heard Sunny say something under her breath. Sunny was careful to compose her features before answering.

  “Just the usual; my thread is all tangled.”

  Heather came over and sat by her, and in the space of a few moments had Sunny on the right track again. She went back to her own sewing while Foster continued to read the letter from his mother.

  “It says he has business here,” Foster commented. “Do you want to ask him to stay with us?”

  “You didn’t finish the letter,” Heather replied. “It says that he’s rented a town house on the east side.”

  “Oh, well, that will be easier, I guess. I’m sure he’ll come by when he’s settled.”

  Husband and wife exchanged a glance. Cecil was a land young man in his early twenties, but he had always been a bit of a dreamer. Foster’s family was quite well-to-do, so there was no need for Cecil to work, but it might have been better if he had, as he always seemed a little at loose ends.

  He had left school without apparent reason a month before Christmas, and his coming to London on business was something entirely new. He had never even attempted to make something of himself, and one could only imagine what he might be up to now.

  Before Cecil made an appearance at the Jamiesons’, Brandon came for a visit. Sunny had seen him only once since Christmas, and that had been for their visit to the bank. Now when he came the following week, the serious look on his face caused Sunny to know that her fears about his going back to sea had come true.

  “You’re going back out on your ship, aren’t you?” Sunny wasted no time in coming to the point.

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  “Yes, it’s time. My grandfather is doing well, and I’ve some shipments that must be arranged.”

  Sunny was glad they were alone. She did nothing to fight the tears that flooded her eyes. Brandon moved close to her on the library davenport and slipped an arm around her shoulders. For more reasons than she could name, she sobbed against him. He was such a solid comfort in her world, and whenever something happened, good or bad, he was the first person she wanted to tell,

  Brandon let her cry. He knew his leaving was going to break her heart, but he had no choice. When she began to calm he started to speak, knowing she wouldn’t catch every word but needing to assure her of his feelings.

  “Whenever I hear of a ship corning to London, I’ll send a letter to you. I’ll miss you and pray for you every day. There is so much you haven’t seen of London, and I hope that you will make this your home in every way. I know Heather and Foster want you to be happy. They will take care of your every need. No matter how far away I am, I’ll always love my little Sunny.”

  His words nearly started her tears afresh. Sunny hicc
uped. Thinking how much he was going to miss her, Brandon fell silent. A moment passed, and he rose to retrieve something from the table in the hallway.

  Sunny watched him return with a deceptively plain box in his hand. When he handed it to Sunny, she saw that it was actually a very beautiful box, overlaid with brushed gold and latched with a solid gold clasp. It didn’t look like anything she had ever seen in Darhabar; in fact, the design was very English. Sunny, having already remembered who the box was from, felt somewhat disappointed.

  “Ali gave this to me after he drugged you. Do you remember my mentioning it?”

  Sunny nodded.

  “At the time you wanted nothing to do with it. How do you feel now?”

  Sunny hesitated. The rejected feeling from that day, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in weeks, suddenly flooded through her.

  “You don’t have to take it. I can keep it and bring it to you when I return, or even give it to Heather to hold for you.”

  “No,” Sunny said finally. Til keep it.”

  She lapsed into silence, and Brandon was hesitant to press her.

  He let the matter drop but gave her one more word of comfort.

  “I have to leave right after dinner, but if you write to me, you might feel better. There won’t be any way to send the letters, but you might feel as though you’ve actually spoken with me. That might help if you’re feeling low.”

  Sunny thanked him with a smile, and soon after they went in to dine. The time passed all too quickly, and Sunny was reminded of Willows’ End and the look of pain on Rand’s face as he had said goodbye to her. Sunny was beginning to think she couldn’t win. First she was sick with anxiety over meeting all of her family, and now she was sick with grief over having to say goodbye.

  TheHying Surprisesailed with the morning tide, and both Dexter and Sunny were on the dock. They had arrived too late to speak with Brandon but alighted from the carriage in time to watch as his ship crept away from the mooring. Just when it seemed that he would be too far to notice them, Brandon spotted his brother and Sunny.

  He raised an arm, and Dexter waved in reply. When Sunny stayed motionless, Brandon put a hand to his lips and threw her a kiss with a gentle move of his hand. Sunny, tears running down her cheeks, returned the gesture. She and Dex watched until the ship was out of sight.