“Certainly not.” Cartwright closed the tome and motioned for Eli to have a seat before Cummings’ desk. “However, it is my aim to meet you in London when you arrive to deliver the treasures.”
“You may not be interested in any of the pieces, my lord,” Eli rushed. “Nothing is of great value or significant history—though that was not the point of my grandfather’s collection.”
Cartwright settled into the seat across from him. “Elijah…it is agreeable I call you by your given name?” When Eli nodded, he continued, “I do feel like our acquaintance spans years. Melly often wrote of you and spoke highly of you on our few brief meetings.”
Elijah pinched the bridge of his nose and blinked rapidly to keep his treacherous tears unshed, focusing on Cartwright once more. “The marquis was a kind, generous, and loving man. I was blessed to have him not only as a grandfather but also as a father figure.”
“And I know he felt blessed, as well. He spoke many times about his vast collection.” Cartwright leaned forward in his chair. “But I must confess I was shocked to learn you wished to donate his collection—in its entirety.”
He’d been taken aback, as well—his man of business venomously speaking out against his intentions, though none of the items were entailed to his estates. Therefore, Eli was free to do with them as he pleased—or better yet, as his grandfather would have wished. “They will be enjoyed and cherished far more in a place where many can view and experience them and learn of Grandfather’s many adventures.”
Cartwright nodded as if agreeing with Eli. “Yes, I have many letters to go with the pieces. Notes he wrote me during each exploration trip.”
“I will also be sending his journals and inventory catalogs. It should help with labeling and dating all the artifacts as he kept meticulous notes referring to each piece: where it was found, the date, and any local knowledge about the item.” Elijah had stumbled upon the chest holding his grandfather’s handwritten journals by accident. They even included many from before Eli’s birth, when his parents had traveled with the marquis. His mother had been quite the adventuress, exploring underwater caves and digging in trenches alongside Eli’s father and grandfather. “They will all belong to the museum as long as you promise the exhibit will always be free of charge to visitors.”
Cartwright tapped his finger against his chin. “It took some convincing, but Cummings agreed to open a portion of the museum for visitors to enjoy without collecting a fee.”
“It is what my grandfather would have wanted,” Eli said, leaving no option if Cartwright wanted the collection. “He always said that it wasn’t about the artifacts found or their value, but about the journey of discovery—and the memories made.”
“The exhibit is certain to inspire other young explorers to follow in Melly’s footsteps,” Cartwright agreed. “Now, what about you? Do you plan to continue in your grandfather’s footsteps? Travel the world, seeking adventure.”
It was the topic Eli had been waiting for, suspected he could not avoid. “I will remain in England. I have no plans to travel neither outside the country nor away from my estate but to bring Grandfather’s collection to the museum. Mayhap the future holds something outside of England; however, not in the coming year.”
“Very good.” Cartwright fell into silence as he scrutinized Eli. “May I ask a rather blunt and highly incongruous question?”
Eli lifted his chin in confidence, his mouth tightening. “Of course, my lord.”
“Jude frequently conveys it is rude to pose a question of a sensitive nature,” he sighed. “So, I have adjusted my manner and request permission to ask such things before blurting out what I wish to know.”
“That is a commendable compromise. I am here as your guest; therefore, feel free to ask anything you wish.” As long as it isn’t related to Sam, our time alone, or our intimate relationship, Eli longed to add. “I have nothing to hide.”
He had much to hide, including his budding affection for Sam.
“It has been brought to my attention that you and Miss Samantha were caught in a rather delicate situation last night…” Cartwright broke eye contact and proceeded to inspect his freshly trimmed nails, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation. “You see, Jude is worried about her sister, and while I agree that Sam is of a mature age, her actions and words since arriving in Derbyshire are rather out of character and suspect for her.”
“And you’ve been sent by Miss Judith to inquire as to my intentions?”
Cartwright flopped back in his chair, his eyes closed as he nodded vigorously. “Yes, that is exactly what I’ve been sent to do. Not my idea, mind you, but important to Jude.”
“I can assure you that things were not as they appeared,” Eli confessed.
“Things are rarely as they appear. Something I—and Jude—know well, Lord Ridgefeld, which is why I have been sent to speak with you regarding the incident and not either of Miss Samantha’s older siblings.” Cartwright shuddered at the mention of Garrett and Lady Marce. “They are a ferocious pair, to be sure.”
“I appreciate your and Jude’s discretion on the matter.” Though Cartwright owed Eli nothing.
“I do not see that there is a matter at all, but my soon-to-be bride is not so certain.” Cartwright folded his hands in his lap and stared at the far corner of the room. Eli glanced in that direction, expecting to find a timepiece or bauble that had caught his attention, but the area was devoid of anything significant. “Lord Ridgefeld, may I again touch on a delicate matter?”
The inquisition was not yet at an end. There was more Cartwright had been sent to convey—but whether it came from Miss Judith or Sam, he did not know. “Of course, my lord.” The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. From the man’s uneasy posture, his next words were not going to be to Eli’s liking, and the earl knew it.
“What are your intentions with Miss Samantha?” Cartwright gazed at anything but Eli—currently inspecting a picture on the desk in front of him. “Do you plan to pursue a courtship?”
“We have only just met, my lord.” Eli attempted to keep the shock from his voice—or at least disguise it. But he’d be a bloody fool to admit he’d thought of just that scenario since their meeting on the deserted road. “I am acquainted with few people here, and Miss Samantha kindly offered to make introductions. I was in no position to turn down her assistance.”
“I can understand that,” Cartwright mused. “However, I think…correction, Jude wishes you to know Miss Samantha is experiencing a bout of emotional turmoil—her words, not mine—at the sudden reappearance of their father. I have been informed you are well aware of this development.”
“I am.” Eli couldn’t decipher exactly what was transpiring between him and the earl.
“Very good. So you understand that Samantha is not precisely herself at this moment, which Jude believes has caused her to latch on to you, giving you a false sense of her true feelings toward you.” Cartwright took a deep breath and expelled the air slowly. “Jude suspects her feelings are not genuine, but come from a place of desperation, confusion, and fear.”
Eli sat up straight. “Are you saying that—“
Cartwright held up his hand to halt Eli. “I am saying nothing. This comes from Jude, who I might add is quite adept at matters of the heart, as it were. And is the only true expert on her sister’s heart, outside of Samantha herself.”
“I am certain what has transpired between Miss Samantha and me has nothing to do with matters of the heart, my lord.”
“That is good to know,” Cartwright’s posture went slack, releasing pent-up tension that Eli hadn’t noticed. “This is all Jude asks…if you do find yourself with an affection for Sam—which neither of us is against—she asks that you allow Samantha the time she needs to process her father’s appearance without you as a distraction. Once you arrive in London with your grandfather’s collection, you are welcome to pursue her with vigor—if you are interested. You will have our blessing and that of her two olde
r siblings.”
“What of Lord Beauchamp?”
“That does not signify,” Cartwright said, dismissing any mention of the man. “His wishes are of little note to Jude and her siblings, including Samantha and her future. He is not her guardian, and therefore, will not be consulted about her choices for the future.”
Eli would likely need time to process everything alongside Sam. He’d ventured to Derbyshire in hopes of being rid of all the reminders of the man he’d lost to his own selfishness; in no way had he come seeking to find a bride—or even a dalliance or flirtation.
“Now, where your intentions lie in a month’s time, neither of us can be certain, but for the time being, Jude thinks it best that you depart to give Samantha the space needed to come to terms with everything.”
“Are you throwing me out?” Eli asked to gain more insight.
“Of course not.” Cartwright waved his hand, dismissing the accusation. “Stay for the wedding and the feast to follow, but, please, keep your distance from Samantha and depart with first light tomorrow.”
Eli could only nod, his next action undetermined. If he stayed and ignored Sam, she’d think him a scoundrel, especially after the previous evening: all that was said, all that was shared, and all that was confessed.
“Are we in agreement?” Cartwright pushed from his seat.
“Absolutely, my lord.” It was the only response Eli could give, although it couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Wonderful.” The earl’s ready smile returned. “Without further delay, I have a wedding to dress for. If we do not have occasion to speak again, I look forward to seeing you in London when we return from our trip.”
Eli followed suit, standing as they both moved toward the study door.
“Good blessings on your wedding, my lord,” Eli said with a stiff bow. “I wish you and Miss Judith all the best in the years to come. I am delighted to know my grandfather’s collection will be well cared for and enjoyed by the masses. Until London.”
“Thank you for understanding, Ridgefeld.” Lord Cartwright walked from the room, leaving Eli to stare after him.
Cartwright was correct in his thinking—Sam needed time without Eli as a distraction to determine the relationship she wanted to embark on with Beauchamp. It was similar to what his grandfather had done for him. Eli had been afforded the space, time, and resources to determine if he craved a connection with his mother. If he should journey all the way to America. If Alice Watson, his mother, longed for a relationship with her son. At the time, Eli would have forgiven her anything—wiped the past from his memory to make a place for their future.
It was only right Elijah give Sam the same opportunity.
His only desire was that she not experience a second heartbreak as he had.
Chapter 17
Sam took her place in the second row as instructed by Marce. The garden had been transformed into a magical area with carefully manicured shrubbery and paths lined with gold ribbons, flowers of the perfect shade of burgundy to accentuate Jude’s fiery hair, and tiny candle holders hung in the branches above her head. It was morning, but the sparkling light from above cast an enchanted glow on all the guests.
It was breathtaking—all of it.
Even the table set for their feast was utter perfection with tall-backed chairs with alternating gold and burgundy bows tied for decoration. The tabletop was arranged with exquisite place settings for all the guests—children included. The aroma of roasting meats, fresh bread, cheese, and delicious sweet desserts drifted across the expansive garden and lawn. Sam’s mouth watered, though she’d eaten only an hour before.
Everything was flawless, as Jude deserved—and Simon, as well.
The pair had met under improbable circumstances but beat the odds—as Payton called it—to find love, happiness, and hope for a bright future.
All things Sam had come to realize might be out of her reach.
Thankfully, Jude had come to her the night before. She hadn’t relished her twin barging in on her and Eli’s private moment, but the discussion they’d had after he departed was one of true enlightenment. Jude hadn’t planned to marry and leave Sam, forgetting about her. No, they would continue to be close. They were sisters. More than sisters…twins. They shared a unique bond, something even Marce and Garrett did not possess. Jude would not give that up, even though she was to wed Simon.
Possibly the most startling revelation had come when Sam had expressed her unwillingness to forgive Beauchamp and her desire to see the man gone—and not returned. Jude felt the same, but she was willing to hear their father’s side of the story. When she had children, she did not want the stigma of her own fatherless upbringing to affect them. Jude did not have to trust the man, but at least her children would know their grandfather—their lineage.
“May I take this seat, Miss Samantha?”
Sam looked up to find Lord Gunther, staring at the vacant seat beside her.
“Ummm, this seat is spoken for. I do apologize, my lord.” She smiled to soothe any insult. “But I believe we are to sit across from one another at the meal to follow.”
“Very well.” He gave a curt nod and moved to sit several rows behind Sam.
She turned slightly to search the gathering crowd. Elijah hadn’t yet arrived. What was keeping him? He hadn’t broken his fast in the dining room either, though she’d heard he was meeting with Lord Cartwright in Cummings’ study.
She’d taken her time eating, refilling her plate twice and imbibing nearly a full pot of tea, which had eventually sent her fleeing to her room in discomfort before Eli had shown his face. They hadn’t seen one another since Jude had walked in on them embracing. Sam longed to see him, let him know all was as it should be, and Jude would keep everything to herself.
There had been much shared by them, yet Sam suspected they could have talked late into the night; their conversation before the fire moving to the lounge and their voices quieting to whispers.
She’d experienced serenity for the first time. Moments of utter relinquishment: of everything she need confess, of all that worried her, of all that weighed her down.
And he’d reciprocated in kind; sharing parts of him that not another soul was privy to. He hadn’t said that much, but Sam knew it to be true. He was not a man who clung tightly to others, open to sharing his past. Unlike Sam, who could not seem to let go of those closest to her.
Mr. Stanford walked down the path, his covetous eyes settling on the empty chair beside her.
She quickly set her fan and reticle on the seat to show it to be spoken for, but did not grace the man with her regretful smile. Instead, she looked to the terrace, expecting to see Elijah hurrying her way, but the only thing she saw was Jude standing just inside the double doors, awaiting her time to walk into the garden and join Simon, who stood chatting with Vicar William Jakeston, Mr. Jakeston’s elder brother, who’d traveled from London to act as their officiate.
Lord Beauchamp was also missing. Sam hoped it remained that way, at least until she could escape back to London and the sanctuary of Craven House. Her father had had the common sense to not show his face in the breakfast room either, leaving Sam blissfully to her thoughts of Lord Ridgefeld without the need to ignore her father’s presence. She’d promised Jude she would not outwardly speak ill of Beauchamp or draw attention to their family strife. Her assurance had been fulfilled far easier than Sam expected.
If only Eli would join her and fulfill his promise to distract her, then all would continue to be well. She was seated across from Lord Gunther at the feast, but Eli would be at her side. Another welcomed occurrence, and Sam suspected it was Jude’s doing.
Her maid had reassured her that Beauchamp was seated close to the head of the table—as was proper for the father of the bride—with all of Jude and Cartwright’s family scattered through the guests.
The strings of a single violin started signaling for everyone to be seated before silence fell once more.
A flurry
of nervousness fluttered within Sam as she glanced around. Guests hurriedly took their seats. She scanned each row but did not spot Eli anywhere. It would be the height of embarrassment for him to slip in during the nuptials.
Once everyone was seated, the violinist commenced a lovely song unfamiliar to Sam. The notes carried on the slight breeze, reaching far and wide across Hollybrooke.
The vicar cleared his throat, motioning for everyone to stand.
As Sam did, she turned to watch her sister’s approach, catching sight of servants standing watch in the many windows of the manor.
Sam glanced longingly at the empty seat meant for Elijah.
Perchance he had been held up by some unforeseeable business and would join them for the meal to be served immediately following the ceremony.
Contemplation of the previous evening and the two missing guests fled Sam’s mind as Jude, on the arm of Garrett, came into view.
Her sister was stunningly elegant in her cream gown with gold threaded through her long, curling locks and a sprig of burgundy blossoms clutched in her hand. Tall and graceful, everything a woman of the ton aimed to be. A sash of entwined gold and burgundy was tied loosely around her waist and trailed down the back of her dress, creating a fanning train, floating behind her as she made her way down the terrace steps and into the garden.
Ooohs and Ahhhs could be heard, as well as mumbled praise for Marce’s excellent planning for a garden wedding.
Sam glanced toward Lord Cartwright where he stood next to the vicar, a shining smile upon his face. A few feet away in the front row, the soon-to-be Dowager Countess Cartwright held a smile much like her son’s as she took in the woman who would birth the next Cartwright earl—the good Lord willing.
Sam glanced skyward to keep the tears of joy from spilling down her cheeks and ruining her gown. Not a cloud hung in the sky, and the breeze was barely more than a whisper in the trees as Jude walked slowly between the rows of guests. Her twin paused briefly, giving Sam an encouraging smile before Garrett pulled her farther toward her betrothed.
The Mistress Enchants Her Marquis Page 15