My Fair Guardian

by Suzanne G. Rogers

  “I have a better idea.” Jane turned to Will. “Would you like to take a turn reading the next chapter of Treasure Island?”

  To Bethany’s surprise, he nodded. “If you will help me puzzle out the words, I will do the best I can. I’m still learning.”

  Jane’s spine straightened. “You want me to help you read?”

  “That’s it exactly. Mr. Pace is teaching me as quickly as he can, but he recommended I read aloud whenever possible.” Will gave Jane a smile. “You can be my tutor this evening.”

  “Oh, what fun!” Jane jumped up and down. “I’ve never taught anyone how to do anything…although I did show Liza a few figures in Cat’s Cradle she hadn’t seen before.”

  While Jane and Will settled on the sofa with their book, Bethany sat at the desk and thought about the next scene in Wylde Eyes. Her hero and heroine were in the smuggler’s tunnel, in the dark, with a dangerous criminal in pursuit. She was eager to begin…and yet her attention was diverted by Will’s halting attempts to read.

  “What I Heard in the A-App…”

  “Apple,” Jane supplied.

  “Apple Bar…”

  Jane gave him an encouraging smile. “Barrel.”

  “Ah. Apple Barrel.” He grinned and cleared his throat. ‘“No, not I,” said Sil…Silver.”

  As he continued, Bethany was astonished at the progress the man had made in his reading skills since the day she’d first heard him learning his alphabet. Her pen in her hand hovered over the paper so long that ink dripped from the nib and left an ugly blot where it fell. She wiped her pen, capped the inkwell, and listened as Will plowed on. As he read, he even gave voice to the various accents.

  Eventually, Bethany gave up the pretense of trying to write and went to sit in a wing chair to listen. Although she hated to admit it, she enjoyed watching Will’s expressions.

  “… You may fancy the terror I was in!” His eyes widened accordingly. “‘I should have leaped out and run for it if I had found the stren…”

  Jane nodded. “Strength.”

  “‘…strength, but my…lim-bas?’”

  “Limbs,” Jane said. “The ‘b’ is silent.”

  Will peered at her. “Why does the word end with a ‘b’ if you don’t pronounce it?”

  Jane shrugged. “Some words are stupid that way.”

  He threw his head back and laughed so infectiously that Bethany joined in.

  Will glanced at her. “I am sorry, Miss Christensen. I suppose my wretched reading makes it impossible for you to write.”

  “No, I left off writing for now because I’d rather listen to the story. Don’t stop on my account.”

  Jane pointed at the spot on the page. “‘But my limbs…’” she prompted.

  “Oh, yes. Limbs.” Will focused on the place where he’d left off. “Er…my limbs and heart alike misgave me…”

  His progress through the chapter was agonizingly slow, but Jane jumped in whenever he seemed to be struggling. Bethany was pleased to see her sister behaving in such a kind, patient, and supportive manner. In return, Will was appreciative of her efforts, attentive, and cordial. If he was not so determined to see Bethany married, his continued presence at Lansings Lodge might even be characterized as congenial. It was a pity that things had to change, but once he met Magenta, he would be smitten. Will would marry the lady, move into the Urbans’ home, and the couple would live happily ever after.

  All Bethany needed to do was to outlast him.

  Chapter Nine

  The Vicar’s View

  As Bethany descended the stairs en route to breakfast, the entrance hall was buzzing with activity. The open door revealed a wagon parked outside while the butler was supervising the loading of trunks.

  Bethany smiled at Richmond as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “So you’re off, then?”

  He nodded. “Mrs. Mills is already in the wagon, along with two maids.”

  “This is almost like old times, isn’t it?” Bethany glanced over her shoulder. “I expect to see Mr. Leopold walking down the stairs any moment.”

  A quirk of fate brought Will into view as he turned a corner and began to descend the stairs. Clad as he was in those clothes, she was struck as never before by his resemblance to Frederick Leopold’s portrait. Anyone with any common sense could see Willoughby Winter was the man’s son.

  He met her gaze as he neared the bottom of the stairs. “Good morning! The entrance hall bears resemblance to a railway station.”

  “A skeleton staff is London-bound, to prepare the townhouse for us,” Bethany replied. “The rest of us will follow in two days.”

  Will nodded at Richmond. “I wish you safe travels.”

  The butler chuckled. “That’s almost exactly what Mr. Leopold would have said. Thank you, sir.”

  Bethany and Will made their way to the breakfast room, where Jane was waiting. She’d formed a triangle of clotted cream atop a breakfast cake and was preparing to take a bite.

  “Oh, hello! I hope nobody important comes to call today or tomorrow because the maid has packed up all my best gowns.” Jane shoveled the cake into her mouth and chewed.

  Bethany averted her eyes from her sister’s chipmunk cheeks. “Since I’ve informed our friends we are leaving on Wednesday, I should hope none of them would be so ill-mannered as to call on us. Everyone knows how difficult it is to move a household.”

  She filled a plate from the sideboard and took a seat. As Will did the same, Jane managed to swallow her cake.

  “I’m ever so glad we’re to stay at the townhouse. It’s so much more comfortable than the hotel we stayed at last time.”

  “Yes, but it makes little sense to open the townhouse whenever we go for only one or two days,” Bethany said.

  Will gave her a quizzical glance. “Frederick never had a home in London?”

  She shook her head. “No. He always used to stay at his gentleman’s club. After we came to live with him, however, he was welcome to stay in the townhouse any time he wished.”

  “In that case, it’s kind of you to allow me a room.”

  Jane burst into laughter. “Don’t be silly! You’re part of the family now.”

  Bethany nodded. “You won’t feel out of place, Mr. Winter. Mr. Leopold’s artwork is on display at the townhouse.”

  “Mama and Papa’s portrait is there, too.” Jane cut another bite of cake and put it in her mouth.

  Will gave Jane a smile. “I look forward to seeing it.”

  A footman brought in the post, and one letter in particular caught her eye. She slit it open, scanned the contents, and returned the missive to its envelope with a sigh.

  “I’ve had another letter from the Winters.” She tossed it onto the salver.

  “What?” Will gave her a sharp glance. “They can’t possibly know I’m here. I haven’t communicated with them since I left home years ago.”

  “The letter isn’t about you. They write regularly, demanding money. Their payments from Mr. Leopold stopped after he died, but they insist I continue supporting them.”

  Will’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t realize Frederick ever sent my parents—I mean Edgar and Agnes—money.”

  “Neither did I, until I examined Mr. Leopold’s account books. He sent the same sum, every month, until he died. I answered the first letter, declining to continue the payments, but the Winters have persisted in their demands.” She shrugged. “Now, I just ignore their letters.”

  Jane’s expression turned sober. “Do you mean to say you never saw a penny of the money Mr. Leopold sent, Mr. Winter?”

  Will’s complexion was ashen. “That’s exactly what I mean. I was led to believe we had almost nothing at all except what I could bring in from working.” He stared at his plate. “I’m afraid I’ve no appetite this morning.”

  Bethany peered at him. “Are you all right?”

  “No. Yes.” He shook his head. “I think I’ll ride to the cemetery, to pay my respects to Frederick. Could you tell me how to
find his grave?”

  “I could accompany you, if you wish.”

  He shook his head. “Forgive me, but I’d like to go alone.”

  “I understand.” Bethany gave him a sympathetic smile. “There are three gated family plots in the church graveyard. Mr. Leopold is buried in the one surrounded by a black, wrought-iron fence.”

  Will folded his napkin and stood. “Please, enjoy the rest of your meal.”

  After he left, Jane’s eyebrows drew together. “Mr. Winter seemed terribly upset just now. Why didn’t he want you to go with him to the graveyard?”

  “Sometimes people need to be alone with their thoughts, dearest.” Bethany gazed at the empty doorway. “Mr. Winter deserves a bit of privacy.”

  Jane’s lower lip began to tremble. “I’m very sad for him. The people he thought were his parents didn’t care about him at all. They cared only about Mr. Leopold’s money.”

  Bethany’s throat formed a lump. “If Mr. Leopold had known as much, I believe he would have been furious.”

  ∞∞∞

  As Will rode toward the church, his skin felt aflame with freshly brewed fury, bringing stinging moisture to his eyes. Frederick had been sending him money every month, and the Winters had never said a word to him about it. He should have been able to have new clothes, a decent education, books, and the same sorts of things his friends had had. Instead, Agnes had been a drunken mess all hours of the day and Edgar had been out chasing women and ale on the money that Frederick had provided on Will’s behalf. He’d hated Edgar from the time he could walk, but never more than now.

  On the one occasion Frederick had asked to meet Will, Edgar warned him beforehand to say nothing.

  “If you tell Mr. Leopold how poor we are, he’ll make sure you’re taken away and sent to a factory or a coal mine for the rest of your life. You’ll die breathing coal dust or get crushed in a machine before the year is out.” Edgar grabbed Will’s face and squeezed it so hard with his fingers that he’d left bruises. “If I get wind that you’ve said anything ugly, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

  Will had believed the threat because he’d experienced Edgar’s cruelty firsthand. The scars on his back, though long healed, ached anew. It was just as well he hadn’t known the truth or he might have been tempted to kill Edgar in a fit of rage. Fortunately, time and distance had improved Will’s temper, but he was glad the man was not around to test his forbearance.

  He reached the church and rode up the street to the entrance to the cemetery. After tethering the horse to a hitching post, he entered the grounds and searched for the black wrought iron fencing Miss Christensen had described. Once he spotted it, he strode along the pathways until he was inside—amongst his forebears.

  Frederick’s granite headstone—the newest one—was a handsome and tall monument to the man he’d met only once, many years before. He removed his hat and nodded.

  “Hello, Father.” Will blinked back a sudden rush of unanticipated emotion. “I wish I could have known you better.”

  “Hullo!”

  The voice made him drop his hat. When the vicar joined him moments later, Will took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart.

  “Good morning, Mr. Southerly.” He bent to collect his hat.

  “Good morning. I saw you ride past the church, so I came to speak with you.” The vicar’s gaze focused on Frederick’s headstone. “You’re visiting your cousin, I see.”

  “Yes.”

  “Mr. Leopold was a kind man.”

  Will nodded. “I met Frederick only once, but I’ve heard nothing but good things about him.” He paused. “Is Mrs. Clementine Aldersgate buried here, perchance? She was a close friend of his and I wish to pay my respects.”

  “Come along.” Mr. Southerly gestured for Will to precede him. “I’ll take you there.”

  Will walked alongside the vicar as they followed a pathway across the cemetery.

  “We buried Captain Aldersgate not too long ago. Clementine Aldersgate passed away…” Mr. Southerly scrunched up his face in thought, “…less than twenty-five years ago. That was before I became a vicar.”

  They arrived at the Aldersgate gravesite, far less resplendent that the one set aside for the Leopold family. Although the horizontal marker had been laid at the head of two graves, the grass on one grave blended with the surrounding lawn, whereas the grave on the other side still showed signs of having been more recently dug.

  Will knelt at the marker and ran his fingertips across Clementine Aldersgate’s name, wishing he could be alone to say a few words aloud to the woman who had died giving birth to him. After his visit to London, he vowed to return and bring flowers.

  He stood and gave Mr. Southerly a smile. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  Suddenly he noticed a third plot on the far side of Captain Aldersgate’s grave. He nodded toward the undisturbed section of grass. “Who is to be buried there?”

  “Several years after the captain’s first wife passed, he married a very pretty widow by the name of Indigo Aldersgate, who already had two children of her own. The plot was intended for her, but no longer.”

  Will’s eyebrows rose. “What happened?”

  “The woman left the poor captain after a short while.” Mr. Southerly shrugged. “These things can get rather complicated.”

  They retraced their footsteps and headed toward road.

  “Actually, I’m very glad for the chance to speak with you, Mr. Winter.” The vicar’s expression turned serious. “Your presence at Lansings Lodge has been the topic of much conversation in Andover.”

  Will chuckled as he remembered the excitement of the Olive Branch Committee. “I was given a warm welcome by your congregation and I’m very grateful for their kindness.”

  They reached Will’s horse, but the vicar wasn’t through.

  “Let me be clear, Mr. Winter. Do you not comprehend how the presence of a dashing young man at Lansings Lodge compromises Miss Christensen’s reputation?”

  Will’s eyes widened. “I’m serving in the capacity of a guardian, just as Frederick did. I’ve vowed to protect Miss Christensen’s virtue, not despoil it.”

  Mr. Southerly’s lips compressed into a line. “There’s a vast difference between a man in his dotage and a man in his early prime.”

  “I’ve no nefarious designs on the young lady whatsoever, I assure you!”

  “It is not the truth of the matter that’s at issue, but the appearance of sin. As Miss Christensen’s spiritual advisor, I cannot let it stand.” The vicar gave Will a level glance. “If you were a gentleman, you would not wish to subject her to gossip.”

  Astounded, Will took a half-step back. “My only concern is with the welfare of Miss Christensen and Miss Jane. If you think it prudent, however, I will move my belongings to the carriage house as soon as we return home from London.”

  “That won’t do. You must remove yourself from the premises entirely and establish a residence elsewhere.”

  Annoyance raked at Will’s nerves, but he fought to maintain a pleasant expression. “How can I protect the Christensen sisters from harm if I live away from Lansings Lodge? The estate has had intruders, Mr. Southerly.”

  “Be that as it may, if you choose to flaunt propriety, I cannot allow Liza to visit Miss Jane in the future.”

  Will gaped. “I can assure you that making unwanted advances toward Miss Christensen is furthermost from my mind!”

  “If you are determined to stay, you can remedy the situation with matrimony.”

  Will’s shoulders relaxed. “That’s exactly what I intend to do, Mr. Southerly. I’ve vowed to see Miss Christensen wed as soon as possible.”

  “If she cannot or will not, you must find yourself a bride.”

  Will felt as if his eyes were popping out of his head. “What? I have no wish to marry.”

  “Come now, Mr. Winter. There’s nothing wrong with the institution. People get married every day.”

  “Yes, but more often tha
n not it’s after a lengthy courtship.”

  The vicar shrugged. “Be that as it may, you and Miss Christensen are not welcome to attend my church unless you make other living arrangements or I begin reading the banns for one or the other of you.”

  “Be reasonable, Mr. Southerly! I shall try my best, but I cannot guarantee that Miss Christensen will find an agreeable suitor this Season.”

  “Good day to you, sir.” The vicar strode off without a backward glance.

  Will spent the ride to Lansings Lodge trying to devise the most artful way to inform Miss Christensen that he’d ruined her reputation. He wasn’t looking forward to the task.

  ∞∞∞

  Bethany gazed through the window in her study, ardently wishing she had not told Will about that letter. She had plenty of reasons to resent his presence, but she would never intentionally bring him pain. He hadn’t known about Mr. Leopold’s financial support and the Winters had neglected to inform him of such. If she were in his shoes, she would feel horribly betrayed. She was glad she’d never sent the Winters any money and from now on, their letters would go into the fire, unopened.

  She sighed, turned away from the window, and sat down to work.

  Angela’s heart pounded against her chest so hard she wondered why the sound didn’t echo against the tunnel walls in the dark.

  “What do we do, Mr. Wylde?”

  “We keep moving.” His voice was grim. “We must be close to the end by now.”

  She felt him fumble for her hand and tug her forward. As she glanced over her shoulder, a dim light bobbed in the distance.

  Her throat convulsed in fear. “He’s right behind us.”

  “Don’t let go.”

  They stumbled along, inching forward far more slowly than they had when the lamp was illuminating their way. It was strange how she trusted Mr. Wylde with her life, even though she’d spent weeks viewing him as the enemy. If they should perish together in this cold, black space, at least she would have had a brief moment of passion with him.

  “I-I wish we hadn’t wasted so much time mistrusting one another.”