“Thank you, my lord,” she shouted over the noise. “I see your flattering skills are improving.”
“I try.” He took off his hat. “Where are the others? I suspect they’re downstairs?”
She had to concentrate to hear his voice over the noise of the children, just down the hall in the dining room that was shared with the Home’s kitchen. Rachel had been coming here since she’d befriended Rose, and had even come when her friend was away, reading to the children in Rose’s place. But now her friend was back, and Rose had sent word around to Rachel’s house, requesting they meet here.
Rachel hadn’t known Reuben would be coming, but supposed she should have. It was his sister who had just returned. Instead of shouting again, she waved him on and led the way through the house. For a moment, she thought it better to ask if he wished to follow her, remembering his comment at the wedding, but when she looked over her shoulder, she found him to be less than a foot behind.
Their gazes caught.
Her heart jumped, and she spun around again.
When they reached the dining room, it was like moving through a maze, as the children ran, jumped, and gathered in circles. Some of the older ones stopped Reuben to talk, and he listened to each of them and spoke with a smile, before he rubbed their heads.
It was another reminder of the wedding breakfast. How could this man still see her as a child, and what did she have to do, in order for him to see her as more?
She didn’t rush him as he spent time with everyone who wished to speak to him. Instead, she stared at the children and wondered what it would have been like to grow up with so many people all the time. She’d not had many friends as a child. In fact, she didn’t have any close friends until she was around twelve or thirteen. Before then, it had only been her and her father, and that was enough.
And then Reuben had come, and everything had been better.
Reuben found a break in the questions, and promised to visit the children again, before he waved at Liz, the woman who assisted the Home’s caretaker, and started out of the room. They went down another hall.
Rachel glanced over her shoulder and asked in the silence. “How do the children know you? I’ve never seen you here?”
His eyes were on her, yet again. “I come from time to time. Usually, it’s to see Alicia.” Alicia was the owner and caretaker for Best Homes, and Mary Elizabeth’s niece. “We’re still looking for the blackguard who released those letters.”
Rachel nodded in understanding.
Miss Best had kept a journal of all the children in her care, having even known their parents. Two years ago, only weeks after her commemoration, one of those letters was released in the papers. It had told of Alex’s father being the Viscount of Wint. The scandal had set London on its toes, and everyone had watched, as what felt like a fairytale came to life. Alex had met the Earl of Chantenny, a man who was known as distant in every way. Yet, somehow, she’d broken through his walls and won his heart. They’d married, and then not long after that, Rose’s own father, Lord Stonewhire, was revealed in much the same way. The papers told all and left nothing out.
Since then, two more letters had been discovered. One about a man named Phillip Bones, whose mother was the Countess of Glennen. Bones, who always wished to attend Oxford, got the funds to do so from his mother’s eldest son, Lord Glennen himself, and was proving the investment to have been sound. Bones was doing well in school and set to become a doctor.
And then last month, there had been Ellen Boyd. She had the voice and the looks of an angel, which turned out to be fitting, since her mother had been an opera singer, but it was her father who had gained the most notice.
Lord Stonewhire.
Which meant Rose had a sister.
Reuben proved his thoughts were aligned with Rachel’s when he asked, “Does he know yet?”
Rachel shook her head. “But Obenshire does. He’s kept her away from the papers. Apparently, he received your letter.” Reuben had send a note while the pair had been on their wedding trip. She waited until he was by her side to ask, “How did you know where to find him?” Obenshire had only shared he would be taking Rose to the Continent, but they’d had few set plans.
“I have ways of finding things.” The small hallway made it so they were nearly standing on top of one another, at least, that was what it felt like.
The already closed-in space felt even smaller with him near. Rachel pulled in a breath and then another. Her stomach began to flutter.
Reuben grabbed her arms, anchoring her to reality. He frowned. “Do you still get them?”
She stopped moving and concentrated on his eyes. It had always helped in the past. Yet even now, she denied knowing what he was asking about. “Do I still get what?”
He narrowed his eyes. “You know what I’m talking about. Closed spaces.”
“You remember that?” She’d always hated whenever her body would lock and become overtaken with panic, whenever she went somewhere without windows, where she couldn’t see outdoors, a way to escape. She couldn’t remember when they started, but they’d begun to wane when she reached the end of her adolescence.
He rubbed her arms in a calming gesture, his gloved hands warming her cold skin. “Of course, I remember it. I’d never seen anyone react that way before.”
She pulled away from him and balled her fists. “I’m fine. It doesn’t happen anymore.” Though it had happened repeatedly right after Stacy’s death, and oh, how she’d wished that Reuben had been there. He’d been a sort of companion. Her friend. Protector. Now she only felt ill at ease when she became unaware of her surroundings, whenever a place caught her off guard, and she lost track of herself.
She took a step, but was stopped by his hand on her arm. He turned her around again. His brows were lowered in a grimace. “Don’t lie to me.”
She didn’t want him angry, so she hugged him and buried her face in his chest. She’d done this as a young girl. Even then, she’d wanted nothing but to be close to him. At fifteen, she’d known where she could always go for comfort, and even when Stacy had been in her life, Reuben had also been there. She inhaled and smiled. He still smelled the same. Even hidden underneath the scent of expensive cologne, she could smell him. Reuben. Masculine and firm. She was surprised when her head found its favorite resting place, right above his heart. They fit together. Perhaps they always had. “I’m fine,” she whispered.
His arms came around her with little hesitation, and he stroked her back a few times before he set her away, to survey her face. “How often do they happen?”
“Not often. Once or twice within the year, and even then, I control myself much better than before.”
He still seemed upset. In the space of the dim hall that separated Alicia’s private quarters from the Home itself, he said nothing for a long time and then asked, “What calms you?”
“Remembering that I’m safe.” All she ever had to do was remember where she was, and that she was surrounded by people who cared, and eventually her mind would believe it.
He stroked her arms again, and Rachel went from warm to hot, before he let her go. “Come, the others are probably waiting for me.”
She nodded and started down the hall again.
A small smile touched her lips. Reuben was different, yet so very much the same. He worried over her. It was yet another reason she was growing to adore him. Perhaps if she was patient, he would discover that there was more to them than the past.
A future.
* * *
5
CHAPTER
FIVE
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* * *
* * *
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Dear Mr. Jay,
I did not know you were a member of Society until your last letter. Rose never mentioned it. I am glad to know I have supporters of my new station, and would enjoy meeting the man who saved me from making a fool of myself in Eastridge. If you are up to it, we should meet.
Lord Eastridge
Dear Lord Eastridge,
It is likely that Lady Rose did not tell you I was a member of Society, just as it is also likely that she didn’t tell you that I am a lady.
Does the fact that I am not a man bother you?
Jay
* * *
By the time they’d reached Alicia’s apartments, Reuben had allowed his mind to move from Rachel and focus on Rose. He feared her reaction, yet there was no way to keep her from the truth. She had a blood sibling and how that would affect her, no one knew.
Stonewhire had entrusted all his libraries to her, and had also settled a lovely dowry on her head along with all the other gifts he’d begun to give her. Would that all change? Rose had always been a strong girl. Even though, as a baby she’d been ill, she’d pulled through, and when her and Lord Obenshire’s relationship began rocky, she prevailed. But her relationship with her father was fragile.
He was a blackguard. He enjoyed women. He’d never hid the fact that he’d been unfaithful to his wife, yet in his own way, had always been faithful to Rose. He’d sent the Home money, so she wouldn’t go hungry, and when she’d became old enough for work, she’d become the youngest employee at the Montgomery Library in Mayfair, a position that had later allowed her to give her input on how the library should be managed.
He’d been grooming her to take over. Without true heirs, Rose was all he had.
Until now.
Reuben hadn’t spoken to Stonewhire himself, since the man had been absent from London circles since before the papers released their most recent glimpse into his personal life. Neither had he tried to hunt the man down. His concern was for Rose.
They found Rose in the sitting room, and when she spotted him her smile turned even higher, and she stood to greet him. She was in his arms in an instant, his emotions different, yet equally high, as they’d been when he’d held Rachel.
“How was the continent?” he asked.
“Lovely!” Rose took his hand and led him farther into the room.
Reuben’s eyes passed over Rachel’s lady’s maid, who tried to make herself appear invisible in the corner, and met the gazes of his brothers, Chris and Nash, before nodding a greeting at an obviously anxious Alicia and Alexandra. Alex’s husband, Lord Chantenny, put on a blank face that said he’d rather not be bothered, but he held his son in his arms, the baby sound asleep. Reuben’s brothers, for the most part, seemed calm. Nash was smiling. Chris never smiled, but he didn’t seem worried or particularly upset, either. Reuben knew that to be a lie.
The last man he looked at was Obenshire. Gerard de Gray stood in a corner and smiled dotingly whenever his wife looked at him, but otherwise he looked ready for a Paddington Fair Day, which always centered around a public hanging.
Reuben was sure had Stonewhire been here, he’d have found more than one man ready to see him executed.
He sat where Rose placed him, and then watched her cross to a chair and begin to tell him all about Italy.
He’d seen it before, but he didn’t let on in the least. He wanted her to be happy for just a few minutes more. If he could box her into a world where nothing bad ever happened, he would, but those days were long gone. He couldn’t protect her from this.
“Reuben,” Rose asked. “You look quite dashing. I hope you’re ready for Harley’s party in a few days.” Rose and Gerard had made sure to arrive just in time for the event. Harland Upton, Lord Wint, was Alexandra’s cousin. He’d also been quite taken by Rose, but the two had formed a friendship once it was clear that Rose’s heart belonged to Gerard.
Reuben wasn’t looking forward to a party, but knew he had to attend. Harley— as his sisters called him— had been kind to Alexandra and had accepted her as family, even knowing the circumstances of her birth. That, alone, made Reuben like him.
“Did you go anywhere special today?” Rose asked.
Reuben nodded. “I had a meeting with the Duke of Yall.” He avoided meeting Chris’ eyes. They would speak of his meeting later.
Rose touched her cheeks. “My, how our circles have changed. A duke? A prince who is the king’s cousin, no less?” She sent a teasing look to Nash and said, “I seem to recall a dinner at this very house two years ago, when you said that none of us had an ounce of nobility in our blood.”
Nash smiled sheepishly. “I suppose I was wrong.” He was a handsome man and built like a bull, only taller. His body said he was deadly, and Reuben knew his brother was. Nash was ginger, but one could tell only under the brightest of lights. Otherwise, his hair was simply dark. His eyes, however, were like clear Grecian seas, a calming blue. Reuben had heard him be compared to a Viking, and was sure the fact that he was also a boxer didn’t help dissuade the rumors.
Reuben remembered the dinner Rose spoke of, and recalled that Nash hadn’t been the only person to state their lack of nobility. The conversation had started with the memory of how, as children, Elizabeth Best had called them ‘ladies’ and ‘lords’. No one had been prepared for how right she was.
Alicia delivered good news. “I’ve raised enough funds to hire more staff.”
“People are still giving?” Chantenny asked. “With every scandal that falls into the papers’ hands, I always fear this place will soon close.”
Reuben worried, as well.
Alicia didn’t.
Before Reuben had known what a lady was, he’d thought the word fitting for Alicia. As a child, she’d always been kind, even though she’d grown up with both her parents. She was beautiful and graceful, with pale skin, blond hair, and blue eyes that spoke loudly of love and warmth. She was the perfect caretaker for the home, but Reuben was glad she’d soon be finding time for herself. She was still young enough to marry and have children, and he wanted that for her.
He saw movement, and his eyes flashed to Rachel. She was sitting as close as she could to Rose, as if ready to catch her friend if she fell.
Reuben had noticed other women try and get close to Rose, in the hopes that it would bring them closer to him, but with Rachel, he knew the friendship was genuine, for he could spot a liar from a distance, and in her, there was no deceit. So innocent, she probably didn’t know where to begin at being evil. In the hallway, she’d lied, but not maliciously. Just like before, she always wanted to appear strong.
The last member of their close party came in. Miss Mary Frances Best. Reuben remembered as a child, one of his teachers at the Home saying that Mary Frances was old enough to have been friends with the prophet Moses, for no one knew her age. She simply always was, it seemed.
With the help of a gleaming black cane, she fell heavily into a wingback chair and sighed, with her eyes closed.
Rose turned toward her. “Miss Mary Frances! I’m so very glad to see you. You won’t imagine…”
Mary Frances waved her off and then looked at Chatenney. “It’s time to tell her.” Frances was never gentle when it came to news.
Rose turned to look at her husband. Reuben noticed her hands tense on the chair arms. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?” She looked around the room and seemed to take note she was the only one who wondered at the question.
She looked at Alexandra then. “Alex, what’s going on?”
Alex took her hand, and looked at Chris.
Though no one ever made it official, Chris oversaw their family. All matters flowed through him, since he was the one who’d put them all together.
Christmas was a name that should have brought joy— especially when they added the fact that he owned London’s most popular toy store— yet, while as a child, there had been times when Reuben had been sure that Christmas was happy, he’d stopped being of ‘good cheer’ many years ago. Few recalled the date, but Reuben did. He was also the only one who knew the reason why.
But it was fitting that Christmas saw to family matters. Reuben had been away at war and Nash had gone to prison, leaving Chris as the only choice.
And Chris, while Reuben was sure he loved w
ith his whole heart, could be just as gentle as Mary Frances.
Chris spoke swiftly. “You remember Ellen Boyd?”
Rose frowned. “Ellen? Of course, I do. She helps with the children’s Christmas performance.” Ellen had been a Best Child, but she’d not grown up in Paddington. Miss Best had three locations. Ellen grew up in the worst one in St. Giles.
“Ellen is your sister.” Chris said plainly.
Gerard crouched by Rose’s chair, and waited.
Rose frowned, as she tried to come to an understanding of what Chris was saying. Then she pulled in a breath and her brows cleared. “She is Stonewhire’s daughter?” She knew what sort of man her father was.
“Yes,” Chris said.
Rose looked around the room. “How do you all know?”
“The papers,” Reuben said.
Rose blinked and laced her hands on her lap. “I want to see it.”
Alicia reached for a paper that had been placed under a book on a side table, and gave it to Rose.
Rose opened it, and Rachel took her arm as she read.
She read quickly, likely the fastest reader in the room. Then she looked up. “Where is he?”
“We don’t know,” Chris said. “He’s…”
“We’ll find him,” Reuben vowed.
Gerard moved in, then, and took his wife in his arms. “There’s no need to worry. Stonewhire had made known to the entire world his love for you. Nothing has changed.”
Rose smiled at him with tears in her eyes. “I know, but what of Ellen? Poor girl. Stonewhire is missing? I hope she doesn’t think he’s vanished because of her.”
Of course, Rose would be more worried about Ellen, than the loss of any inheritance.
“He left before the story was in the paper,” Alicia said. “I spoke with Ellen and told her she had no need to worry.”
“Is she here?” Rose straightened. “I want to see her.” She smiled tentatively. “I have a sister.”
Tales of a Viscount_Heirs of High Society Page 5