The Earl and His Lady_A Regency Romance

by Sally Britton

  Ought she to invite him to speak of Lady Abigail Calvert?

  “Lucas?” There was no time like the present to test her own bravery on the matter. He looked her way, eyebrows raised to invite her question. “What did Abigail think of your relationship with your tenants?” Virginia held her breath, hoping she had not crossed a boundary into what was none of her business.

  His smile reappeared, much to her relief, as warm as the sun above them. His eyes changed, as though he looked further into the distance than the road stretched. “She was supportive. And kind. She visited with the tenants’ wives, she went about the parish doing good.” He sighed and shook his head. “Even when she ought to have stayed home and looked after herself.”

  Virginia watched as Lucas’s expression changed from one of pleasant remembrance to something more bittersweet. He turned the horses off the lane, into a stand of trees near the road. Once they were under the shady branches, the phaeton stopped. Lucas held the reins in one hand and reached up with the other to remove his hat. He put the hat in his lap.

  “Has anyone told you,” he asked, the words spoken slowly, “how Abigail died?”

  Virginia, surprised at the turn in his mood and conversation, shook her head. Had she intruded too far upon him? She only meant to give him opportunity to speak of his wife. She hoped he didn’t think her morbidly curious.

  “You needn’t speak of it if you do not wish to, Lucas.” She laid her hand on his arm to gentle her words. “Not if it causes you pain.”

  He covered her hand with his and met her eyes, his more ash-gray than blue in the shade. “It doesn’t. Not anymore. I think I will always miss her, of course. She is part of me. But I want you to know, to see that it is possible, for time to heal the painful memories and give you leave to remember the good.”

  Virginia nodded, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. Would the day come when she wouldn’t ache for Charles? Everyone said it would. Wouldn’t she have to forget him to rid herself of pain? She had no wish to do that. Lucas’s perspective gave her a measure of comfort.

  “Abigail was granddaughter to a duke. She was happiness and grace, she held herself with a regal air, and yet I saw her kneel in the grass to dry the tears of a farmer’s daughter.” His eyes took on that faraway quality again and his voice deepened as he spoke. “She was beautiful in body and soul.”

  “I saw her portrait,” Virginia said, lowering her voice reverently. “She was lovely.”

  He nodded and his hand on her fingers pressed her closer. “Very lovely. And I thought myself the luckiest man alive. Only one thing could’ve made me happier. A child.”

  Virginia’s heart dropped all the way to her stomach. No one, when they spoke of the late countess, ever mentioned a child. She bit her cheeks and her eyes began to sting.

  “It took time, but we had been married just over a year when Abigail told me the good news.” He turned away then, dropping her hand and using it to grip his hat instead, bending its brim as he spoke. “We didn’t tell anyone. It was a precious secret between the two of us."

  Lucas gripped the hat and reins, tension evident in the lines of his body. “We never had the chance to tell anyone other than a doctor. Abigail—she fell ill. At first, she thought it was her delicate state.” A sound, something she’d call a chuckle if it hadn’t sounded so sad, escaped him. “She overdid, she fell ill, and then the doctor came. Abigail had an excellent chance of recovery, he said. But then—then she didn’t get well.” He closed his eyes and held his breath for several long moments.

  Virginia sat still, offering him nothing but her silent empathy. Abigail had been young, their marriage new, when he’d lost her. She had been given years with Charles, and children. Did that make one sort of suffering worse than the other? She didn’t believe so. How could she even call their heart-break different? Did it matter how a heart was broken when all that was left were shattered remains?

  He let out his breath at last, in a deep sigh, and faced her again. “I loved her with everything I was. The world changed when she left it.”

  “And you had to find a way to remake it,” Virginia said, each word laced with empathy. “Without her in it.”

  Lucas nodded, his eyes understanding and accepting her explanation of her own feelings. “Exactly that. I cannot say when or how it happened, but I find I can accept this new world. I have a place in it, as does Abigail’s memory. I still have purpose.” He picked up his hat and placed it back on his head, his shoulders straightening again, his frame regathering its strength.

  “I’m grateful you told me.” Virginia meant it. Coming to understand him, to fit herself into his life, would be easier if she knew something of the past.

  “We had better be getting back.” Lucas took up the reins in both hands again and with a gentle flick, he had the horses moving onto the road. A comfortable silence remained between them.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “You’re doing excellent, Phillip.” Lucas leaned over the rail of the paddock, watching the boys enjoy their riding lesson. Christine Gilbert had put Edward on a pony and led him about on foot while Phillip was learning to guide his mount around gentle turns. Phillip was growing bored of his time fenced in. Though he was small, he handled his horse with confidence.

  “The boy’s a natural,” Thomas said at his side. “How many lessons is this now?”

  “The third since I married his mother.” Lucas had brought the boys once a week. They were at the tail end of June and summer still had not made up its mind as to whether it would stay. The weather remained cooler and the skies cloudier than normal. Thankfully, Edward’s cough had not lasted long, nor had it returned. Lucas had taken care to check in at the nursery nightly, before Virginia went in to bed the boys goodnight.

  Thomas crossed his arms atop the rail. “I hope everything is going well. Christine’s been worried about that Macon fellow. You’ve had no more word from him?”

  “None from him or his lawyer.” Lucas didn’t bother hiding his smile at that. He still thought on that confrontation with satisfaction. “I don’t believe we have anything further to worry about in that quarter.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Thomas’s eyes stayed on his wife, watching her give the reins to Edward. The man wore a look on his face of pure adoration every time he dropped the conversation in favor of admiring Christine Gilbert.

  Lucas chuckled. “Still enamored of your wife, I see.”

  The other man barely cut him a glance before answering. “And may it always be so.” His eyes went to Phillip. “Dare I ask how your new bride is adjusting to life at Annesbury Park?”

  Raising an eyebrow, Lucas took in Thomas’s careful expression. “Perhaps I ought to ask you, given that your wife visited yesterday. The two of them were in Virginia’s sitting room for over an hour. When I asked how their visit went, I was told it was lovely.”

  The other man cleared his throat. “Oh, Christine didn’t say much about it. She certainly didn’t say anything to give me cause to worry. In fact, she said Virginia seemed perfectly content with her situation.”

  Content. Lucas knew that ought to satisfy him. His wife wasn’t miserable. She had no great complaints. But content was not the same thing as happy. Could one be happy while in mourning? He certainly hadn’t been. Not for a very long time. He’d had no one to help him through the difficult days, however, while he hoped Virginia knew he was always ready to support her.

  “You needn’t look so perturbed, Calvert.” Thomas chuckled and turned back to the riders.

  Lucas realized he’d begun frowning while lost in his thoughts. He forced a more neutral expression. “Thank you, Gilbert. I cannot help thinking there is something more I ought to be doing for Virginia and the boys.”

  “It must be a great deal to take in. Adjusting to having a wife was a pleasant enough experience, but there were difficult moments. I cannot imagine adding fatherhood at the same time would make things any easier.” Charles nodded to Phillip as he rode by. “And your ro
le is the more unique because the loss of the baron is still recent. Are the boys taking to you?”

  “I think they might be. Phillip still has moments when he looks at me as if I am a pretender to the throne.” Lucas couldn’t blame the boy. When Lucas had been that age, he’d worshiped his own father. “But Edward has been sending me drawings by way of the servants. I get a folded sheet of paper from him nearly every day. Yesterday he sent me a piece featuring a very unfortunate looking cow.”

  Thomas laughed, shaking his head. “What do you do with such masterpieces?”

  “I can hardly dispose of them. That wouldn’t feel right. My desk drawers are growing rather full.” At last count, he had fifteen such drawings. They weren’t all like the cow, either. The boy had a real talent for plants.”

  Christine led Edward’s pony to them, a cheerful bounce in her step. “My lord, your stepsons are positively gifted riders. I cannot think they will continue to need lessons for long.”

  Lucas slipped between the rails with ease and no thought for the cravat his valet had spent too much time on that morning. He went to Edward and held his arms out to offer support as the boy practiced dismounting.

  “They have an excellent teacher, Mrs. Gilbert, who allows that natural talent to shine. What do we say, Edward?”

  “Thank you, Cousin Christine.” The small boy bowed, watching Lucas from the corner of his eye, obviously looking for approval.

  “My pleasure, Cousin Edward,” Christine said, dipping a playful curtsy.

  Lucas winked and Edward straightened with a grin.

  Phillip came nearer and dismounted, slowly but smoothly and all on his own. He kept the reins in hand. “Should we take the horses in today, Cousin Christine?”

  “Please do. The grooms will help you.”

  Edward puffed his little chest out when she handed him the reins to the pony. He followed after the more confident Phillip, looking over his shoulder once, shooting a grin at Lucas.

  Lucas waved and watched them go, their shapes a contrast to the animals they led. Despite both boys having small mounts, they looked hardly old enough to be in the saddle. Perhaps they truly had a natural talent. At Edward’s age, Lucas thought he’d been lucky to be a passenger in a dogcart.

  “Look at him, Thomas,” Christine’s voice said from his side, stage-whispering. “He’s besotted with those children.”

  Gilbert clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Can you blame him? You’re just as wild about them.”

  Lucas settled his hands on his hips and regarded his friends with amusement. “I am entirely devoted to them, I’ll admit it. They’re good lads. But I must ask your professional opinion about something, Mrs. Gilbert.”

  “Please, do call me Christine. We’re related by marriage, after all.” She grinned and went to the paddock gate, obviously not as willing to climb through rails as Lucas had been. “What can we help you with, my lord?”

  “Lucas will do.” He followed her and held the gate open, the two of them walking around to where Thomas had remained. “I’m thinking of getting the boys a pony, having it live at Annesbury Park. And a dogcart. Then when you have a foal available that might suit Phillip, I’d like to add one of those to my stables, too.”

  Thomas and Christine shared a look that made Lucas’s heart give an envious thump. The regard the two had for one another was obvious, even in the smallest glances. He missed that ability, the closeness it required, to share a look with a person and simply know all they thought and felt on a matter.

  “It isn’t a terrible idea,” Thomas answered, reaching for his wife’s hand as he spoke. “So long as they still come here for lessons, I think Christine will agree with me.”

  Christine bumped her husband with her shoulder. “I cannot lose my pupils this early on. Though I’m certain your stable master might make a suitable instructor, I enjoy my time with them too much to give them up.” She narrowed her eyes at Lucas. “You aren’t trying to steal away my cousins, are you?”

  He raised his hands in a calming gesture. “Never, Cousin Christine. They will meet you for lessons so long as you and their mother deem them necessary. But practicing at Annesbury Park, learning to handle a dogcart, that can only be good for them. Yes?”

  Her eyes narrowed further. “Yes,” she said, drawing out the word’s single syllable. “I suppose so. Very well. Where do you think you will get your pony? We only have the one and I cannot give her up. I’m too fond of Honey.”

  Lucas nearly asked what honey had to do with anything when he realized it must be the pony’s name. He cleared his throat rather than chuckle. “I hoped one of you would know where I might find one.”

  Thomas thought for a moment, then began to offer names of men in the area he thought might part with a pony. It did not take Edward and Phillip long to rejoin them, however, and Lucas swiftly changed the subject when he saw the boys approaching.

  “It’s meant to be a surprise,” he said under his breath.

  Christine’s eyes glittered approvingly and Thomas grinned too.

  “When can we come back?” Phillip asked, tugging his coat sleeves down. It looked like the boy had gone through a recent growth spurt, given the way his wrists stuck out of the jacket.

  “Next Monday or Tuesday,” Christine answered. “If the weather cooperates.”

  The boys bowed their thanks again and Lucas led them to the gig waiting to take them back to Annesbury Park. After they were both settled, their usual chatter began. Lucas enjoyed listening to them as they took the path homeward, their serious talk amusing him.

  “Did you see me dismount, Phillip?” Edward asked, his voice going higher in his excitement. “I nearly did it alone.”

  “I saw. Well done, Edward.”

  They would continue in this vein for some time, talking of what they did right, bemoaning what they had gotten wrong or forgotten to do. But it was obvious in every word they said how much they looked forward to their time in the saddle.

  When they hit a lull in the conversation, nearly home, Lucas cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking, perhaps you boys would like to go on a picnic some afternoon, by the lake?”

  He’d been thinking of taking them for some time. Nearly since he met them. But the business of life kept him too occupied. Since his conversation with Thomas, he realized he ought to do more to show the boys that he cared about them, wanted to be part of their life. He had hoped taking them to and from their lessons would begin that feeling of harmony between them. Most men would have sent a groom to cart his stepsons from one place to another.

  “I like picnics.” Edward’s eyes were aglow with happiness and he tucked his hands under his legs. “Let’s go, Phillip. Say yes, Phillip.”

  Phillip considered the question, and when Lucas saw the frown on his face forming he turned his full attention back to the road. He still wasn’t sure where he stood with the child-baron. The boy took himself very seriously. Lucas often wondered if that had always been in his nature or if it had become part of his personality after his father’s death.

  “I think,” Phillip said with deliberate slowness, “it could be enjoyable. But we ought to check with Mother first.”

  Lucas sighed and nodded. “I think you must be right about that. Very well. I will ask your mother and let you know when she’s given her answer.”

  “She’ll say yes.” Edward spoke with all the authority a four-year-old could possess and Lucas had to resist chuckling again.

  He was ready to elaborate on their plans when he rounded the last bend in the road to reveal the house.

  There were carriages in front of his home. Two of them. One grand and opulent, with a familiar coat of arms emblazoned upon the door. The other carriage was more modest, but new. They were both being attended to by servants who were unloading luggage.

  “Gentlemen,” Lucas said, raising his voice to be sure they heard him. “You are about to meet some very important people. I think you ought to go through the servants’ h
all and wash yourselves well before the introductions.”

  Edward stretched around, leaning onto Lucas’s seat to see past him. “Who is it?” he asked, his voice reverential.

  “Did you know they were coming?” Phillip asked, standing up to look over Lucas’s shoulder and resting his hands there for balance.

  The casual touch made Lucas smile, despite the anxious feeling somewhere in his chest.

  “I had no idea. To answer your question, Edward, you are going to meet my mother, the Dowager Countess of Annesbury, and my brother, and his wife. I hope you’re prepared to make a good impression, but even if you aren’t, I have the feeling they will be impressed by you both.”

  At least he hoped they would. And he hoped his mother was minding her tongue. Doubtless she was already making herself at home.

  He hoped Virginia was faring well.

  ¤

  “The Dowager Countess of Annesbury, Lady Pamela Calvert,” Gresham said, sounding completely out of breath, after opening the doors to Virginia’s morning room. She barely had the time to stand, and next to no time to register surprise, before a tall and imposing woman swept into the room. “And Mr. and Mrs. Marcus Calvert,” the butler added, his voice fading slightly at the end of the introduction.

  Virginia’s eyes darted to the door once more, watching as a couple entered the room, uncertainty clear on their faces.

  But Lady Pamela Calvert swiftly retook her attention. Virginia curtsied deeply, as much for the woman’s position as her new mother-in-law as for the respect due her title.

  “My lady, welcome back to Annesbury Park.” At least she didn’t sound as ruffled as she felt.

  “Thank you,” Lady Pamela said, her tone speculative instead of offended. “And where is my son? He ought to be here to make introductions and explain himself.” She hadn’t removed her gloves or her hat, which bore a large red feather and an intricate purple veil to cover her face. Without waiting for an invitation, she sat upon the chair most in command of the room.