My Fair Guardian

by Suzanne G. Rogers

  Bethany glanced at the butler. “Richmond, please bring Mr. Winter a glass of water.”

  “Very good, miss.” The butler bowed and disappeared down the hallway.

  Will drew his sleeve across his face. “Thank you, Miss Christensen. Some water would set me up right nicely.” He glanced down at himself. “Can’t sit, I’m afraid. I’ve been shoveling dirt all day.”

  Bethany remained standing by the window, yearning for a breeze. “This is Mr. Ingalls. He was Mr. Leopold’s solicitor and he now advises me.”

  The elderly man stood. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” He nodded instead of attempting to shake Will’s dirty hand.

  “Likewise."

  Mr. Ingalls cleared his throat. “I have good news to impart to you, sir.”

  Will’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?”

  Bethany frowned. “The rolled-up paper you discovered in Mr. Leopold’s desk turned out to be a codicil.”

  “A coddy-what?” Will shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “A codicil is a document that modifies the terms of a pre-existing will,” the solicitor said. “As it so happens, the terms are in your favor.”

  Before Mr. Ingalls could continue, Richmond arrived with the glass of water. Will gulped the water down and belched as he returned the glass to the butler’s tray.

  “Oh, ’scuse me.”

  Bethany’s eyes flickered toward the ceiling. “That will be all, Richmond.”

  The butler left, seemingly biting back a smile.

  Will gave the solicitor a quizzical glance. “So, my cousin decided to give me a few quid or some such thing? I’m touched.”

  “Mr. Leopold was not your cousin, Mr. Winter.” Bethany took a deep breath. “He was your father.”

  Several seconds passed before Will burst into laughter. When neither Bethany nor Mr. Ingalls joined in, however, his merriment faded.

  “Wait…you’re serious?”

  Bethany gestured toward the old journal, which was open on the desk blotter. “Mr. Leopold wrote about his romance twenty-four years ago with a Mrs. Clementine Aldersgate. She was a lady married to a sea captain who was gone for months at a time. When the woman died giving birth to Mr. Leopold’s child, he fostered the boy with his cousin, Agnes Leopold Winter and her husband, Edgar.”

  Will continued to shake his head. “Even if that’s true, I don’t understand why Frederick wouldn’t want to raise me himself.”

  “Mr. Leopold had your welfare uppermost in mind,” Bethany said. “According to his journal, he paid the midwife to tell the captain that the baby was stillborn. Mr. Leopold feared that if Captain Aldersgate discovered you had lived, the man would have tried to kill you.” Bethany held up a newspaper obituary, which had been tucked into the journal. “The captain died a few days before the date of the codicil. I expect Mr. Leopold thought it was finally safe to change his will in your favor.”

  “A change that only came to light because of your serendipitous discovery, Mr. Winter.” The solicitor gestured with the codicil. “According to the terms of this document, Frederick Leopold wished for you to be appointed as the new guardian to Miss Bethany Christensen and Miss Jane Christensen until such time as the elder sister marries or attains the age of twenty-five years. For your service, you are to be given a salary and the run of Lansings Lodge.”

  Will was gripping his cap so firmly, Bethany wondered if he meant to wring out some of the perspiration soaked therein.

  “What happens to me when the lady marries or turns twenty-five?” His expression was wary.

  “At that point, you cease your guardianship and you inherit half the estate. Until then, however, the title of Lansings Lodge will be held in a trust.”

  Will crossed his arms. “So, all I have to do is to get Miss Christensen paired off as quick as I can?”

  Bethany burst out with, “How dare you, sir!”

  Mr. Ingalls held up his hands for calm. “Mr. Winter, you fail to understand your new role. As guardian, you must protect the interests of the Christensen sisters above all else. It will be as if the ladies were your own flesh and blood.”

  “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Will scowled. “My own flesh and blood gave me away to two of the most worthless people imaginable.”

  Bethany gaped. “How could you speak about your foster parents in such a horrible fashion?”

  Will’s expression turned cool. “Begging your pardon, Miss Christensen, but you don’t know anything about it.”

  She glared at the solicitor. “Mr. Ingalls, this is ridiculous. Clearly Mr. Winter is not fit to be anyone’s guardian. Can we not offer him a settlement and have done with it?”

  Mr. Ingalls shrugged. “Mr. Winter could decline his inheritance. If so, however, he receives nothing.”

  Will’s spine straightened. “I’m not going to decline my inheritance, and I was just joking about the marriage bit.” He held Bethany’s gaze. “My apologies.”

  “If there are no other questions, I’ll be on my way.” The solicitor tucked the codicil into his valise and got to his feet.

  “Thank you for coming on such short notice, Mr. Ingalls.” A blanket of resignation weighed down on Bethany’s shoulders. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay the night?”

  “Oh, no. Thank you, but the wife is expecting me.” His mouth quirked up at the corners. “Besides which, you two need to have time to work out the details of your new arrangement.”

  ∞∞∞

  Once Will was alone with Miss Christensen, he gave her a cocky smile. “So…I’m your guardian.” He stuck his hand out to lean against the wall.

  Bethany gasped in horror. “The wallpaper, Mr. Winter!”

  “Oops.” He stood upright, wiped his hand on his trousers, and grimaced at the smudge he’d made on the flocked pattern. “Sorry. It’s going to take a while for me to learn the way of you folks.”

  Her manner turned businesslike. “Well, since we’ve been thrust into a situation not of our choosing, we must look for silver linings. You caught our most recent burglar, after all, so you’ve demonstrated bravery and watchfulness. Obviously, Jane and I will feel more secure with such a man in the house. If you are willing to work at improving yourself, perhaps our arrangement can be beneficial all around.”

  “Improving myself?” Will scratched a bug bite on his thigh. “How precisely am I to go about doing that?”

  “We have a tutor for Jane who has been instructing her in all the traditional subjects. Mr. Pace’s efforts could extend to you as well.” She cast a disapproving glance at his clothes. “Furthermore, you must learn to dress and behave as a gentleman before we can introduce you to the neighborhood.”

  “Ha!” He scoffed. “No one would ever mistake me for a gentleman.”

  Miss Christensen’s lips flattened. “Perhaps you are right. It would take a great deal of hard work on your part and you might not be up to the task.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly. “I’m used to hard work of all sorts, Miss Christensen. When I’m not shoveling dirt, I’m working with pencils, charcoal, and paint. Moving in society is an entirely different matter, however, and I don’t have the right breeding or education.”

  “I’ve not yet removed any of Mr. Leopold’s things from his room. You are about the same height and build as he was, and I can summon a tailor to make any adjustments. Once you see yourself dressed as a gentleman, you might feel more confident.”

  His voice raised a trifle more sharply than he had intended. “There is nothing wrong with my confidence, Miss Christensen!”

  She flinched, turned on her heel, and marched over to the window. Will assumed she meant to close it, but she merely stood there. When her shoulders began to shake, he had the sneaking suspicion she was getting emotional.

  He made a sound of frustration. “Are you crying?”

  She shook her head but her shoulders shook even harder. With a sigh, he crossed over to her. “You are crying.”

  “I’m not!�
�� A sob escaped her throat and she stamped her foot. “I’m not crying.” Her voice rose at the end of her sentence.

  Will held out a filthy handkerchief, but stuffed it back into his pocket when she recoiled.

  “Look, I’m sorry, Miss Christensen. I didn’t mean to shout.”

  The young woman produced a dainty linen square and blotted her eyes. “Leave me alone.”

  His sigh sounded like a groan. “If it’s that important to you, I’ll try on Frederick’s togs.”

  When she finally glanced at him, her blue eyes were swimming with tears. “I don’t want you to do me any favors.”

  “Have it your way.” Will strode off.

  “One o’clock,” she blurted out.

  He turned. “What?”

  “Be at the house at one o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Fine.”

  Will made his way from the study and strode toward the servants’ staircase before stopping short. “Wait…I’m not a servant any longer.” He chuckled. “I can come and go by the front door.”

  He turned around and headed for the entrance hall, pausing to admire the marble floor, spotless woodwork, oil paintings, and chandelier overhead.

  Will shook his head in amazement. “I can’t believe this is half mine.”

  Richmond frowned as he approached. “Can I help you, Will?”

  Will chuckled. “I hope so, old boy. I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

  The butler’s jaw dropped as Will left through the front door. As he descended the steps to the courtyard, however, he remembered the Hawthorn plants waiting to be put into the ground. As he strode across the lush, manicured lawn, he rolled up his sleeves.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll become a gentleman. Right now, I still have a hedge to plant.”

  Chapter Three

  A Gentleman’s Valet

  While Bethany and her sister were having tea together on the patio, Jane folded an entire pastry roll in her mouth. “Mmm!”

  Bethany gave her a pained glance. “You really ought to take smaller bites, dearest. Not only does it look horrible when you stuff things in your mouth, but you could choke.”

  When her sister grinned, Bethany was treated to the sight of clotted cream gushing from in between her teeth. Jane’s bad manners reminded her of Willoughby Winter and the task before her. How was she to break the news of his guardianship in the best manner possible?

  “Er…we are to have a new addition to the family—sort of.”

  Jane’s eyes grew round and she swallowed her pastry. “A dog?”

  “No.”

  Her sister slumped down in disappointment. “Then what?”

  Bethany forced a smile to her lips. “It’s a rather strange story, but some surprising information has come to light that involves Mr. Winter.”

  “Do you mean Will?”

  “He’s to be addressed as Mr. Winter from now on, unless he gives you permission otherwise.” Bethany hesitated. “As it turns out, Mr. Winter is more intimately connected to Mr. Leopold than we thought. In point of fact, he is his son.”

  Jane gasped. “I didn’t know Mr. Leopold was ever married!”

  Bethany sighed, wishing she could be anywhere else at the moment. “Erm, Mr. Leopold wasn’t.” She took a sip of tea. “He would have liked to be married to Mr. Winter’s mother, very much, but she was already married to a sea captain. It was all rather difficult and complicated and Mr. Winter ended up with Mr. Leopold’s cousin, Agnes Winter, who raised him as her own.”

  “Oh! Will was born on the wrong side of the blanket!”

  Bethany covered her face with one hand, peeking at Jane through her fingers. “How do you know about things like that?”

  Her sister tossed her head. “There’s a stable boy on our estate whose mama was never married. I know all about it.”

  “Yes, well, it’s not a topic for polite conversation.” Bethany took another sip of tea and cleared her throat. “At any rate, Mr. Leopold wrote up a document that we discovered only a few days ago. The codicil, as its called, says Mr. Winter is to be our new guardian until I am married or turn twenty-five.”

  Jane grimaced. “That’s ancient!”

  “It probably won’t seem so very old to me in five years.” Bethany sighed. “Therefore, starting tomorrow, Mr. Winter is to live at Lansings Lodge, be our guardian, and learn how to be a gentleman.”

  Jane pondered that for a moment, then shrugged. “I’d like to have a dog, but I enjoy Will’s company very much.”

  “Mr. Winter, you mean.”

  “I’ll try to remember. She reached for another pastry. “It’s going to be jolly having him around.”

  Bethany gazed out at the garden with a fixed smile. Jolly wasn’t the word she had in mind for her new life with the vulgar, ill mannered, and uncouth Willoughby Winter. Torture might be more apropos.

  ∞∞∞

  The following afternoon

  Richmond let Will into the house with a bland smile. “Good afternoon, Mr. Winter.”

  Will blinked at the formal address. “Why are you calling me that?”

  “The entire staff has been informed of your new status, sir.” The butler’s gaze flickered to the cap on his head.

  “Yeah.” Will took it off. “I can’t believe it myself.”

  “Have you any luggage?”

  Will stuck his thumb over his shoulder. “Just my bedroll. I’ll fetch it from the loft in the stables later.”

  “There’s no need. I’ll send one of the servants.” Richmond nodded in a regal fashion. “You may wait here or in the drawing room, if you wish, while I let Miss Christensen know you’ve arrived.”

  As the man strode away, Will began to pace. Despite what he’d said to Miss Christensen the day before, his confidence had sunk lower than the bottom of a coal mine, and the last thing he needed was to look after the welfare of two young women. His efforts to present his artwork had taken such a drubbing in London, he wasn’t sure if he could handle any more criticism at present. All he had intended to do was to take a menial position long enough to regain his equilibrium. How could he accomplish that if his shortcomings were to become obvious at every turn?

  His gaze strayed to the front door. He could leave right now, pick up his bedroll, walk into the village, and look for work there…although he had no letters of reference to present and would not be given one after a mere fortnight on the job. Indeed, he’d barely been able to talk Mr. Troy into giving him a chance as it was. Had he not mentioned his family connection to Frederick, Will suspected he would have been sent on his way. Little had he known at the time how intimately he and Frederick were related.

  He sighed. What exactly was he afraid of? Instead of dreading humiliation, perhaps he should embrace the opportunity to improve himself. His inability to read and write had been the source of shame his entire life, so wouldn’t it be better to take Miss Christensen up on her offer of lessons? Still, the shocked expression on her face when he’d admitted his lack of education brought a painful blush to his face even now. He might as well have donned a dunce’s hat or danced a merry jig like an idiotic court jester.

  Will began to dance around the entrance hall, as if he were playing Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. “I go, I go; look how I go, Swifter than arrow from the Tartar’s bow.”

  He stopped dead when he saw Miss Christensen sailing down the hall toward him with her sister skipping at her side. Even though he still felt the sting of her condescension, he stiffened his spine and lifted his chin. He might possess a myriad of defects, but he refused to be cowed by her or any other woman. Besides which, she’d complimented him on his face and figure, had she not? He tugged on sleeves of his jacket and made sure his collar was lying flat. Apparently, he was not completely worthless in her estimation, even if her criteria were shallow.

  “Welcome to Lansings Lodge, Mr. Winter.” Miss Christensen glanced at Jane. “Ask Mr. Pace to meet us in Mr. Leopold’s bedchamber, please.”

  “
What?” Jane made a face. “Why?”

  “Mr. Pace was Mr. Leopold’s valet before he became your tutor, don’t you remember? He can assist Mr. Winter with his wardrobe.”

  “Oh, I see.” Jane giggled. “This is like dress-up!” She dashed off.

  Miss Christensen gestured toward the impressive staircase, which was wide enough for three men to climb abreast. “This way, Mr. Winter.”

  He followed a few steps behind her, mesmerized by the sway of her bustle, the sound of swishing fabric, and the barely detectable scent of…was it gardenias? Growing up, he was seldom in the company of fine ladies, except in passing at church. He had never conversed with a beauty possessed of such intelligence and obvious good breeding. Furthermore, he’d seldom met a lady in less need of protection. Surely one level glance from those blue eyes would send any man to his knees. That being the case, it should not take much effort to get her properly married off, should it?

  At the top of the stairs, she turned right and led Will down a corridor lit by the window at the far end. “I seldom come this way, Mr. Winter. The rooms in this wing are reserved for gentlemen only.”

  “Why should that be?”

  She glanced at him, as if to verify whether or not his remark had been made in jest.

  “Propriety, sir. A lady’s virtuous reputation is everything in society.”

  “Hmm.” He frowned. “And here I thought society cared only about money.”

  “I rather think all society, be it high or low, cares about money.”

  Her piercing glance made Will wish he hadn’t been so flippant. “You’re right, I’m sure. Money is a necessity.”

  The woman stopped at a gleaming wooden door and raised her hand to knock. In the next moment, she shook her head and laughed. “Force of habit, I’m afraid. I still expect to see Mr. Leopold around every corner.”

  She turned the handle, threw the door open, and immediately moved over to the windows to pull back the thick, wine-red velvet curtains. Light illuminated the spacious bedchamber, which featured a trey ceiling, a sparkling crystal chandelier overhead, and matching sconces on the walls.

  Will lingered in the door, reluctant to sully the place with his presence. “It’s like a museum…or a church.”