“What of my father’s objections?” she protested.
Carter’s mouth turned down in a frown. “Rightnour has not forgiven the colonel for whatever tiff brought upon their differences,” he confided. “Yet, the earl spoke fondly of you and your mother.” Their gazes locked as he studied the depth of her resolve.
With a last bit of defiance, Mrs. Warren exclaimed, “How could the earl know anything of my life? He had no contact with my parents!”
“Charleton had no contact with the colonel,” Carter countered, “but your mother wrote him regularly about your escapades. The earl recounted how you broke your arm when you climbed an apple tree at age five and how you never learned to play the pianoforte, but mastered the harp within a fortnight.”
She swayed in place, but Carter resisted the urge to reach for her. “Why would my mother go against my father’s wishes to contact his brother?”
“I have no informative response,” Carter said honestly. “I suggest you speak to your uncle.”
Mrs. Warren nodded slowly. “Has His Lordship retired for the evening?”
Carter took several steps toward the door. “Charleton has asked that we break our fast together.” He knew she would not sleep until she had answers. “We will return to Blake’s Run tomorrow, and then you may decide what you and Simon will do. Charleton has extended an offer to his niece and her ward. The earl is equally capable of orchestrating the investigation into Simon’s parentage, as am I. He possesses unlimited resources and is willing to ply them upon your behalf. He reached for the latch. “It may be best if we part ways, Mrs. Warren.”
It was satisfying to note how the dark circles under her eyes matched his. The lady had had no more sleep than he. Of course, her lack of nocturnal relief had come at her uncertainty of her future with the Earl of Charleton, while Carter’s came with the shocking realization Mrs. Warren had not returned his interest. She was not immune to his persuasion, but Carter had reasoned her desires came from a woman accustomed to a man’s touch. After all, she had been for several years without a husband in her bed.
But what if she possessed a lover? His mind tormented him. Such a scenario would go a long way in explaining her rejection of his advances, as well as giving credence to why she sought a man’s protection. What if the man was Thornhill? The duke had written to Carter to explain a confrontation between the duchess and Mrs. Warren. Had the duke recognized Carter’s interest in the woman? Although Thornhill had denied a romantic entanglement, had the letter been a warning for Carter to avoid the lady? An image of Brantley Fowler and Mrs. Warren engaged in a heated embrace danced freely before Carter’s eyes. Instinctively, a scowl deepened the lines of his forehead.
“What pray tell have I done to bring about your displeasure, Sir Carter?” the lady asked with a heavy sigh of disapproval.
Carter’s eyes fell upon the woman’s countenance, which sported an opposing look of abjuration. He fought against the urge to turn her steps toward the stairs, to return her to her quarters, and to kiss her until she smiled upon him again. “I am concerned for how Mr. Monroe’s investigation goes in Oxford.”
“Then you mean to join your friend as soon as possible?” she asked in dispute.
Carter said adamantly, “I hold a position of importance in the British government. If you decide to join your family, then I must be away to oversee the operation I designed.”
Before she could respond, the servant opened the door to the private dining room, and the earl rose to greet them. “Mr. Patrick. Miss Patrick. I am pleased you could join me.”
Mrs. Warren curtsied, as Carter bowed. “Thank you for the invitation, Your Lordship.”
Although his eyes remained on his niece, the earl gestured to the previously prepared table. “I took the liberty to order. Please forgive my presumption.” Servants scrambled to set serving dishes upon a nearby table. “It does my heart well to see you have recovered, Miss Patrick,” he said tentatively. The man wished to please his niece. The earl recognized an opportunity had arrived in the form of a chance meeting.
“The journey brought on fatigue,” Mrs. Warren murmured, but she maintained eye contact with the earl, a fact of which Carter approved.
He nudged her forward to seat Mrs. Warren between them. “Permit me to prepare your plate,” he whispered when she stiffened with the close quarters. The lady nodded weakly. “May I prepare something for you, Your Lordship?”
The earl shrugged off the offer. “I am content to enjoy my coffee and your sister’s company,” he said with a large smile.
Carter added coddled eggs, bacon, and toast to her plate. With his back turned to the pair, he heard Mrs. Warren softly say, “This is most generous of you, Your Lordship.”
Carter returned to the table, as the earl ordered the servants from the room. When the last of Mr. Bradleton’s help closed the door behind her, the earl said, “Sir Carter, your years in the diplomatic service have proved beneficial. You have provided an old man a moment he thought never to have. I am forever in your debt.”
Mrs. Warren blushed thoroughly. “We should enjoy our meal, Your Lordship, and permit the company to develop naturally.”
The earl said earnestly, “I am rarely a patient man, my Dear, but I have learned over time that the most precious gifts require nurturing.”
Carter tapped Mrs. Warren’s knee beneath the table, and she nodded her understanding. “I…I do not know…know how to begin, my Lord.” She swallowed hard, and Carter felt instant sympathy. Her world would shift again, and there was no means for him to offer his safeguard. “Sir Carter has stated… stated that you…you have maintained a relationship with my mother, although the colonel always claimed…my father claimed you and he held a long standing disagreement.” Carter recognized how she fought for control. “How is that possible, Sir?”
The earl sat forward and reached for her free hand. Carter was pleased to see her accept Charleton’s gesture of affection. “Do you wish me to withdraw?” Carter asked, noting a pivotal moment in its conception.
Mrs. Warren shot him a pleading glance. “Please stay.”
The earl, too, added his agreement. “It is time for my niece to know the reason for my break from her father.” He examined the palm of Mrs. Warren’s hand. “Even your fingers remind me of your mother’s,” Charleton said distractedly. He looked upon his niece’s countenance for several elongated seconds before he began. “Roderick and I were always very much alike. Great friends, as well as brothers. That is until the evening of Aunt Caroline’s fiftieth birthday celebration. That evening both Roderick and I took the acquaintance of Miss Sophia Carrington, the daughter of Viscount Ross. We were both quite struck by the lady’s beauty and affability.
“Lady Sophia was the youngest daughter of a viscount and Roderick the second son of an earl. It was a perfect match, but that particular fact did not stifle my determination to make the lady mine. Roderick and I waged a mighty battle, each of us publicly courting your mother. Finally, before we came to fisticuffs, our father stepped into the fray. The old earl had his eye on Lady Margaret Morissey, the eldest daughter of the Marquess of Rodfurth for me. The lady’s dowry would solidify the earldom, and the former Charleton removed me from the play. A commission was purchased for Roderick, and my betrothal was announced. My brother married the woman I wished to name as my own.”
Carter watched Lucinda Warren’s expression change from mild curiosity to horror. “You are saying, Sir, my mother wished to marry you instead of my father?” her voice rose incredulously.
The earl held her hand when she attempted to pull away. “I am saying, Lucinda, I will never know who Sophia would have chosen had she the opportunity.” He said the words slowly and with an air of authority, characteristic of men in his position. “I held a duty to the earldom, and so I married Margaret. Unfortunately, my wife passed in childbirth.” Charleton’s shoulders sagged. “Roderick and I parted with bitter words, never to speak again, but from Lady Sophia, I secured a promise to
write to me of my brother’s accomplishments, and also a promise to inform me if my brother required my assistance. Over the years, I lived vicariously through those letters.”
“My father never asked for assistance,” Mrs. Warren declared defiantly.
The earl patted the back of her hand. “Your loyalty speaks well of both your parents, and I do not mean for you to choose who to love best. I like to tell myself Sophia loved both Roderick and me. If your mother could open her heart to both Rightnour brothers, could you not do the same, my Dear?” He ran a finger along her cheek. “I have no other family, Lucinda, and neither have you. I would be honored to know the child my younger brother called ‘daughter.’ Please make the effort to reclaim your position in Society.” He paused awkwardly. “Sir Carter has told me of your search for the family of your late husband’s child. I am willing to assist you in your search. If we are unsuccessful, I will finance the boy’s education and his eventual apprenticeship.”
Tears misted her eyes. “It is all so much to comprehend, Your Lordship,” she said softly.
Carter cleared his throat. “Obviously, Mrs. Warren must return to Blake’s Run for the boy. Perhaps, Your Lordship might wish to join us there. The baron and baroness are on the Continent, but my brother and his wife are in attendance. I would think a week or so might be an excellent beginning. Time to reunite. To learn more of each other would do you both well in coming to a decision. I imagine there are many questions still to ask.”
The earl appeared grateful for the offer, but Mrs. Warren frowned. “I would not wish to inconvenience Lord and Lady Hellsman.”
“My brother and Lady Hellsman would be pleased to entertain the earl,” Carter said confidently. “Hellsman means to expand his thoroughbred line, and Charleton is known for some of the best horses in England. I assure you, Mrs. Warren, Hellsman will sing your praises for the connection.”
Mrs. Warren said weakly, “As customary, Sir Carter, you have solved yet another of my dilemmas.”
“I apologize,” Carter said compliantly. They had agreed the earl would tarry at the inn an hour or two before he followed them to Derbyshire. It would not do for “Miss Patrick” to be seen traveling with Charleton. After the stilted moments following Carter’s suggestion of the earl’s visit at Blake’s Run, Carter had escorted Mrs. Warren to the let coach, and they had departed Manchester. Enduring her silence for some twenty minutes, he had finally sucked in his pride and offered yet another request for forgiveness. “I meant only to assist you.”
She turned her head slowly to glare at him. Her eyes darkened with aggravation. Through tight lips, she said, “You say you mean to provide me choices, but then you snatch those options from my grasp before I have the opportunity to weigh them.” Mrs. Warren returned her gaze to the passing terrain. “Despite what you think of me, Sir Carter, I am capable of executing a degree of caution.”
Decidedly piqued, Carter chose his words carefully. “What would you have me do?”
A single tear slid over her cheekbone, and Carter clinched his fists rather than to reach for her. With a soft sob, she said, “Perhaps it is time you accepted your own advice: Return to your position in London and leave Simon and me to our chosen devices.”
In many ways, Carter wanted nothing more than to walk away from her. Lucinda Warren was the most frustratingly desirable woman he had ever encountered. Yet, his heart wished to guard her from harm. “I cannot leave immediately. After all, it was I who extended the invitation to Charleton, and as the earl holds great influence with the Home Office, I cannot offer him an offense.” He paused to examine her reaction, but Mrs. Warren refused to meet his gaze. “I will wait several days and then claim I have been summoned to London. Until then, I will limit our interactions to those with the company of others. I assume those terms will meet with your agreement.”
“Do as you wish, Sir,” she said bitterly. “You require not my permission to act in your best interests.”
He gave a dramatic shudder. Nothing about the agreement to withdraw was in his best interest, but Carter kept his thoughts private. Rather than to argue further, he slid lower in his seat, crossed his arms over his chest, and closed his eyes. He did not appreciate the concept of being labeled a miserable failure. It was an odd sensation, but somehow he would find the strength to leave Lucinda Warren behind.
Lucinda waited until she heard his soft snore before turning her head to look upon his beloved countenance. In the late morning light filtering through the coach’s window, she studied the lines of his face, attempting to memorize every small detail. His forbidding countenance reflected the strength of his character. In a few days, he would be gone, and she would likely never see him again. The realization tore at her heart, but she knew it was best. She held no doubt if she remained close to the baronet, Lucinda would succumb to her desire for him, and she would not compromise herself simply to know the pleasure of his embrace. Sir Carter’s honor would demand he make her a second proposal when he discovered her not the experienced widow he thought her to be. No, Lucinda would not trap him into a loveless marriage. She had already weathered one disastrous joining; a second would destroy her. She set back into the well-worn squabs to study him closely. No other man would ever own her heart, but perhaps one day she might discover another, a man she could respect and with whom she could show affection.
“Welcome, Your Lordship.” Lawrence Lowery led his wife, Carter, and Mrs. Warren in greeting their unplanned guest. When Carter had announced the impending arrival of the Earl of Charleton, Law had presented him with a look of scathing disapproval. “Arabella and I planned a speedy withdrawal to the dowager house,” he had growled, but Lawrence knew duty better than anyone. He and Arabella had quickly organized the staff to accommodate the earl.
Charleton slowly disembarked. “You have a beautiful property, Hellsman. The Dark Peak creates a majestic backdrop.” He shook Law’s hand and air kissed the back of Arabella’s knuckles. With an appreciative smile, Charleton said, “You have discovered a jewel, Hellsman. Wherever did you find the acquaintance of Lady Hellsman?”
Law gestured toward the house. Good-naturedly, he said, “It is a long story, Your Lordship. Perhaps over tea, you can persuade Lady Hellsman to share her version of our courtship. I am certain it varies from mine.”
The earl chuckled. “It sounds delightful. My curiosity is piqued.”
Law placed Mrs. Warren on his arm, while Charleton escorted Arabella inside. “Let us say the story begins with a rainstorm and a dark cave.” Law laughed easily as Arabella blushed prettily. Mrs. Warren glanced over her shoulder to Carter, but he refused to acknowledge her questioning gaze. Despite Carter’s best efforts not to know jealousy, his brother’s marital happiness grated on Carter’s well being. Rather than to follow immediately, he turned to give the earl’s driver directions for the coach. He would eventually join them in the sitting room Arabella had designated for entertaining, but he would not readily rush into the revelry.
After an hour of polite conversation, Lord and Lady Hellsman and Sir Carter excused themselves, leaving Lucinda and the earl alone. As nervous as she had ever been, she asked, “May I send for the boy, Your Lordship?”
The earl appeared relaxed and content. “Might we wait a bit? I find myself full of questions and would wish to learn more of my niece.”
Lucinda attempted to steady her breathing. “Certainly, Your Lordship. What do you care to know?”
“I suppose Sir Carter explained how I searched for you after Waterloo,” he began.
She paused to collect her composure. She would not permit her uncle to observe her surprise. “I fear the baronet omitted that particular fact,” Lucinda said with uncertainty.
Silence filled the space between them. Finally, the earl said earnestly, “In London, we had received reports of the chaos following Waterloo. A mass exodus of English citizens flooded our docks, but despite my relentless searches, you were not among them.” Lucinda heard the crack of emotions in her uncl
e’s voice, and she felt a twinge of guilt for causing him grief. “I sent several investigators to Brussels. They discovered neither you or your father had attended the Duchess of Richmond’s ball.”
“Before the battle, the colonel had been ill for a week or more,” she confessed. “I could not leave him.” Lucinda easily recalled how she had so wanted to attend the duchess’s ball. To dance and to laugh and to be a girl again.
The earl nodded his understanding. “Was Roderick ill when he rode into battle?”
Tears clouded her eyes, and Lucinda worked hard to blink them away. “I begged Father not to go, but, of course, he would not abandon his men.” She thought, Yet, he abandoned you.
Charleton’s lips turned down. “Was Roderick unaware of the exodus of English citizens from Brussels? According to all accounts, Napoleon’s speedy advance had surprised even Wellington. They say the duke rushed from the ball, leaving his hostess in a distraught state.”
Lucinda lied, “I doubt Father was aware of the danger.” She swallowed the urge to blush.
The earl did not appear convinced, but he said, “My men found no evidence you returned to the residence you shared with your father.”
“No. I volunteered in the hospitals, tending the wounded. I have no idea how long I remained among the Belgium nuns who housed the most severely wounded, but one day, Sister Agatha announced the convent would close, and they were to remove to a southern province. By then, there was nothing remaining of my former shelter. The army had assigned it to another family. My few belongings were stored in the ‘deceased’ section of a military warehouse. I retrieved them before I convinced the paymaster to give me father’s last pay; with the money, I booked passage home. Originally, I returned to Devon, but Father Warren refused to accept me in his home.”
Realm 06 - A Touch of Love Page 20