Lord Gladrey drew her forward. “Lady Heloise Gladrey is my grandmother.” He glanced at Laurel. “And this lovely lady is her god-daughter, Miss Melissa Rainy.”
Melissa’s big hazel eyes stared at Laurel and she finally inclined her head slightly in recognition of the introduction. Laurel returned her regard, surveying Melissa’s light golden-brown hair done in the latest fashion above a lovely face with a pert nose and a rosebud mouth. A yellow silk gown completed her youthful perfection, but the cool disdain in Melissa’s gaze spoiled the picture.
Melissa lost all pretense of interest in Laurel and pouted up at Lord Gladrey. “I can hardly believe you missed our morning ride with silly old business,” she scolded.
He grinned down at her. “Your distress is noted. No doubt Edmond accompanied you.”
“True, but a mere secretary is hardly worth mentioning and besides he wasn’t you.”
“Don’t be uppity. Edmond serves me well.” His expression softened. “Be nice and I promise to make it up to you.”
When?” Melissa demanded.
“Soon. I have business to see to now.”
Laurel caught Melissa’s eye roll as she shrugged one shoulder. He turned back to Laurel. “This is my younger sister, Paige. Allowed to dine ‘en famille’ at long last.” He laughed down at his sister. “A grown up miss as you see.”
Paige, a young girl of twelve with her brother’s dark hair and brown eyes, sniffed and rustled her sprig muslin skirts, but she grinned up at Laurel. Pleased to discover a friendly face, Laurel returned her smile.
“I believe I’ve introduced you to everyone except perhaps Sir George Dunaway, a friend and neighbor.” He indicated a gentleman of average height with a distinguished appearance and a handsome head of wavy coin gold hair.
“George, may I present Lady Laurel Laningham, my ward’s mother.”
George bowed and gathered her hand in one of his. “Charmed, I’m sure. A mother you say?” He grinned down at her and kissed the back of her hand. “She seems far too young.”
With an appreciative smile, Laurel withdrew her hand. “Thank you kind sir.”
A commotion at the door drew everyone’s attention and Lady Rhonda Laningham swept into the opening. Her eyes sparkled and her lips lifted in a contrite smile. “I apologize for my tardy arrival but the trip here was atrocious.”
“Ah, Rhonda. Here at last and welcome.” Adron gathered her into his arms, kissing her cheek.
“I believe you are known to everyone.” He switched his gaze to Laurel seemingly to emphasize his alliance with his cousin.
Laurel’s spirit sank. She’d left Landings to escape her sister-in-law for a brief while, but like ants at a picnic, she’d arrived to plague Laurel’s existence again.
Rhonda sauntered over. “My dear sister, I was unaware you intended to leave until after your departure,” she criticized in a languid tone. “I couldn’t imagine what had happened.” She blinked and placed her hand on her chest. “I was all aflutter not knowing where you were, so I immediately set out to ask my cousin for advice. What if the magistrate had called with more questions—he is a special friend of yours I know—but I would have had no idea what to tell him.” Rhonda blinked again and trained her accusatory stare on Laurel.
Laurel’s stomach roiled and her face heated with a blush, but she returned the stare in good measure. She could well imagine her sister-in-law’s joy if she’d been found guilty of murdering Robert with an overdose of laudanum. “Your concern is so sweet. I beg pardon for putting you to so much unnecessary trouble, but there are no lingering questions. All issues have been settled months ago.”
With that, the conversation became general and to Laurel, everlasting. Finally, the butler announced dinner and she exhaled with relief, smiling gratefully at George when he offered his arm. She found herself seated by his side at a long table. The sparkle of crystal stemware and cut glass vases of fragrant white roses reflected in the polished surface of the tabletop. In an otherwise hostile environment, the soft glow of candlelight washed the walls, offering a pleasant setting that soothed Laurel’s frayed nerves.
The aroma of rich soups spiced the air as servants placed tureens at each corner of the table followed by removes of roasted vegetables and lobster patties. The fare was tasteless in Laurel’s mouth, but she forced down a few bites. Almost ill with exhaustion, her stomach revolted when the main course of mutton with dumplings arrived and a remove of eel was placed by her elbow. The only thing that saved her from disgrace was the stern look in Lord Gladrey’s eyes and a quick sip of tea
Laurel swallowed hard and her fingers trembled on her fork. Where was her backbone? Simply because his every stare caused her discomfort was no reason to crumble. Straightening her spine, she elevated her chin. She must never give him a reason to suspect his tactics were successful or he would never let up. If she melted into the background little by little, perhaps one day he would allow her to take her son and disappear from his life. She would find a way.
When that dreadful meal ended, Heloise signaled the withdrawal of the ladies. Laurel reluctantly followed the others into the parlor and attempted to disappear into the surroundings. She sank into a chair a little removed from the other furnishings.
Heloise looked at Paige. “It’s time for you to join Miss Fleming. You want to be fresh for your riding lesson tomorrow.”
“Must I? Riding lessons with Adron are so deadly dull, no letting the horses run or anything fun. In a singsong voice, she mocked, “Miss Fleming abhors riding above a trot and she positively will not jump over the least puddle. Still he always insists she comes along as a treat for her.”
Heloise’s voice was filled with pride. “Conduct of a true gentleman, always courteous and kind. A lesson to us all.”
“Yes, but she’s too shy to say boo to a goose and Adron always tries to draw her out or sooth her shattered nerves or some such thing.” Paige grinned. “Do you suppose he isn’t really trying to act the gentleman, but has feelings for her?”
Heloise’s lips thinned and she lifted her chin. “Don’t be impertinent. His sole interest is in my beautiful god-daughter here.” She darted a quick glance in Laurel’s direction and reached over to pat Melissa’s folded hands.
Laurel found the image of Lord Gladrey acting the gentleman decidedly fanciful and the warning was unnecessary. Lord Gladrey had made his contempt for her more than plain and the memory of his earlier invitation to share his bed made her cringe. Not that he was unattractive; he would measure up to anyone’s standards in that regard, but she’d had enough ill humor, accusations and disdain to last a lifetime. Lord Gladrey’s actions to control her every move were a match for Robert’s suspicions. She’d hardly dared draw a breath of her own and she wanted no more of it.
Biting back a sigh, she longed for her bed and the comfort of being alone, but she couldn’t leave before Lord Gladrey joined the ladies.
Before many minutes had passed, Lord Gladrey’s secretary entered the room and her nerves tightened, certain the earl would be close behind. Simply thinking about having to deal with him and his antagonism left her drained.
Edmond strolled over to Heloise’s chair, his slender form erect and his too handsome face closed against the ladies.
“What’s amiss?” Heloise demanded.
“Lord Gladrey asked me to inform you and the ladies that he will be unable to join you tonight.”
Heloise glanced at the other ladies and grimaced, displeasure marring her brow. “I am disappointed. As you heard, Adron’s secretary has found something for him to do.”
Laurel could only be grateful. She watched as Edmond bowed and left with a tight little smile on his lips. Under her breath Laurel gave a sigh of relief and stood. “Please excuse me. I must see to Jamie before I retire.”
She quickly retreated, peeking in
to Jamie’s room where moonlight drifted through the window and washed over the crib. All appeared well and tension eased in Laurel’s shoulders. Her son was deeply asleep while the housekeeper’s daughter snoozed in the adjoining chamber.
Climbing the stairs to the next level, she entered her chamber and leaned back against the door. Striking a flint, she set the lamp alight and happened to glance at the dresser. She frowned, stepping over to finger the few items scattered on top. Disquiet shivered through her and her frown deepened. Her borrowed things had been slightly shifted. She studied the room at length, concluding that someone had indeed been through her sparse belongings.
Unease crept down her spine, but Jamie’s startled wail pushed her first alarm aside and she rushed down the steps to his room. Rhonda stood over Jamie’s crib with one hand between the folds of the netting.
“What are you doing?” Laurel hissed a little above a whisper.
“Seeing to my nephew since you were not by.” Rhonda had taken no pains to lower her voice.
“I’ll thank you to leave him alone.”
“Then don’t thank me,” Rhonda snarled. “The little heir. How droll you no longer matter in his life.” She twisted her mouth into a semblance of a smile and contempt radiated from her eyes.
“Get out,” Laurel demanded. Pointing to the door, she seethed with helpless fury. “Now!”
Rhonda strolled to the door and turned to deliver a sly smile. “Careful. Your true nature is showing. Not so sweet now, are you?” She laughed as she exited the room.
Alarm accelerated Laurel’s pulse. Where was the servant in charge of the nursery at night? Laurel peeked into the adjoining room and gave an exasperated sigh. If a pistol exploded next to her ear, the girl might wake up.
Laurel stood with her teeth clenched, her fingernails digging grooves in her palms. She retraced her steps to the side of the crib and stroked her son’s back for a second. Then she tucked the netting around his bed once more. With a quick glance at the door, she sank into the rocking chair to guard her child’s slumber.
Rhonda leaned against the closed nursery door and drew her lips together in a tight line. Hatred for Laurel, the little up-start, scraped Rhonda’s nerves raw. She stomped down the hall and with each step her rage grew. Under her breath, she cursed Robert and Laurel with him. Laurel had rolled those big eyes at him and he’d been trapped.
“What an utter fool,” Rhonda fumed. After a quick dash home, her brother married, leaving a pregnant wife behind before he rejoined Wellington’s troops in the Peninsula. She resented his wife and his going off to war. Her nostrils flared with renewed hatred for Laurel and her precious son.
When Robert had finally returned, wounded in body and broken in spirit, Rhonda no longer recognized her handsome, strong brother. Moisture gathered in her eyes, but she refused to allow a single tear to fall.
Rhonda flung into her room and slammed the door behind her. Before he’d married, Robert had left everything to her in his Will. She still controlled all of the funds and property not entailed, but if his Last Will and Testament were ever found, she’d lose everything to Robert’s sniveling little wife. With the sweep of her arm, she knocked her looking glass and silver-backed brush set to the floor. Her loss of control relieved a little of her pent up anger. Come what may, she vowed to find and destroy that Will.
A light tap intruded on Rhonda’s thoughts and she opened the door a crack. “It’s you.”
Rhonda stepped back as Edmond entered and asked, “Did you search everything?”
He shrugged. “Certainly but I found nothing. Not even her wet clothes.”
“Her trunk?” Rhonda questioned with raised brows.
“Her trunk wasn’t there.” Edmond laughed. “That room is hardly large enough to hold such an item.”
“The Will must be found.” She gritted her teeth. “I followed Laurel here because I imagined she had it with her.” Rhonda began to pace.
“Don’t get in a taking. Some servant must have shoved her trunk into the attic. I’ll search there later tonight.”
“If it isn’t in the attic, I’ll return to Landings in a few days and continue the search.” She opened the door and swept the hall with a glance. “The way is clear. Let me know what you find.”
He nodded and ducked out the door.
“After I destroy that Will, I’ll see precious Laurel ruined,” she whispered.
Chapter 4
A careless servant had lit several candles in Adron’s library but failed to draw the drapes. He grimaced, too tired to care. With a frown, he swished the hangings closed against the night and sank into his chair. Rubbing his hand down his face, he leaned his head against the back and linked his fingers over his middle. Silence had settled over the house and he drew a deep breath of relief, allowing his voice to sigh out into empty space. “This has been a hell of a day.”
Over and over, vivid flashes of the coach rolling onto its side haunted him. He could picture the widow and his ward tumbling about inside. Would this nightmarish day never end? Although the coachman had assured Adron the accident wasn’t his fault, his stomach roiled with guilt. His fury and careless behavior placed the blame squarely on his shoulders. He examined his emotional involvement in his dealings with the widow. Her determination to remain with her son had won his grudging respect and he smothered a curse. He didn’t want to admire her. For his peace of mind, the sooner she gave up and departed the better for all concerned.
His lips tightened and he vowed to his cousin’s memory that he would protect Jamie, even from his own mother. One corner of his mouth curved up in a self-mocking smile. Because he was attracted to her, his method of dealing with her would, out of necessity, be harsh. He brushed his fingers through his hair and thought, Too hell with this, and stood to his feet. It was time to abandon his broodings and seek his bed.
Grabbing one candle with which to light his way, he blew out the others and took the steps two at a time. Compelled, he nudged the nursery door open and stared at the sight before him; Laurel slumped in the rocker next to the crib with her hand on her son’s back. Both mother and child were sound asleep. Disconcerted, he edged back as quietly as he had come. A frown pleated his brows. This scene failed to coincide with his image of a disinterested mother.
“Impossible,” he whispered but all the same, he hardened his heart against the tender picture she presented. He clenched his teeth and hurried away.
Laurel woke with a start. All seemed well with Jamie so she climbed the stairs, finally crawling into her sagging bed, but try as she would, sleep eluded her. Questions plagued her. Why had her room been searched and why had Rhonda really been in the nursery? Drat Lord Gladrey for placing her on the floor above her son. Being next door to him would have proved more convenient to check on him during the night. Unease nagged at her until she eased out of bed. She must know that Jamie slept, that he continued to breathe and that his heart was still beating. Laurel crept back into the nursery.
Morning light peeked into the nursery waking Laurel and she quickly rubbed a crick from her neck. She glanced around. All appeared quiet and peaceful. She took advantage of the moment to return to her room and dress for the day.
Mid-morning, she plopped onto the floor, grabbed a ball to roll to Jamie and sighed with pleasure. All of her immediate chores were complete and now was her opportunity to play with her son. Watching him laugh and to kiss his face was a treat to her. She never tired of being with him.
The nursery door opened and Lord Gladrey stepped into the room. As her glance met his, a sizzling arch of awareness seemed to draw her to him, not in anger or disdain, but with pure physical attraction.
“Morning,” he said with a smile. He squatted down beside Jamie, but his gaze remained on her.
Mesmerized by his continued stare she lowered her lids to break the contact
. “Good morning.”
Jamie giggled, calling attention to himself and his eyes rounded with a stare. Kicking his feet with excitement, he rolled the ball. Lord Gladrey’s expression gentled as he returned the ball. With his face softened in tenderness, Laurel was surprised by his display of a soft, caring side. Wearing his dark hair tied at his neck exposed his high cheekbones and strong jaw—a truly masculine face. She’d been so caught up in her battle with him she’d somehow failed to fully appreciate the ruggedly handsome face behind the ruthless expression he wore. The harshness had faded, replaced by a genuine interest in her child.
Jamie seemed to love the attention and bounded up to toddle away, all the while giggling with delight. Lord Gladrey gave chase and tossed the child into the air before catching him to his chest.
The raw strength in his body contrasted with his tender expression and the smile in his eyes. Her pulse quickened with feminine appreciation and against her will, she was enchanted with the way he treated Jamie. Anyone with this sort of tenderness for her child couldn’t be as unfeeling as he appeared and suddenly her strong stance against Lord Gladrey softened. His actions touched her down deep where her defenses were weakest. He’d managed to slip under her guard, leaving her helpless to protect herself from his appeal.
Laurel cautioned herself not to fall for this gentle side of him. So far, no such consideration had been shown to her. If he ever showered her with even a little tenderness and a small amount of the care he showed Jamie, she would be helpless to resist. Rolling her lips inward, she tightened her jaw and mentally chastised herself for falling victim to such a powerful physical attraction. She blinked and turned away.
Although Jamie loved the attention, Laurel was anxious for Lord Gladrey to leave. Much to her consternation, he stayed for a good twenty minutes playing and talking to Jamie. Each kindness, even his kiss on Jamie’s cheek before he sat him back on the floor, flooded her with warmth. His gaze occasionally collided with hers sparking tension that engulfed her. When she realized she was falling a little beneath his spell, she tried to block his warm appeal from her mind. All the charm he could muster wouldn’t make up for the harsh treatment she’d received. He’d said all was done with the best of intentions with Jamie in mind. Laurel could appreciate that sentiment, however, softening even more toward him would be a mistake. Beware!
Conduct Unbecoming of a Gentleman Page 4