Earl of Shefford: Noble Hearts Series: Book Three (Wicked Earls Book 28)

by St. Claire, Anna

He cleared his throat and took another sip of tea. “Do you have it now?”

  “I do.” She reached into her pocket and withdrew a wrinkled paper.

  Colin turned the paper over, curious as to why it was withered and dirty. There was a single message with no signature. Whitton!

  Return the deed.

  “This does concern me,” he started slowly, noticing his mother staring at him as he once more glanced down at the message. She already knows this is connected to me, he thought. “Mother, I cannot imagine why you have received this.” For a moment he debated what to tell her, deciding, in that instant, she could help him.

  “I cannot conceive the why of it either,” she returned. “Especially since they tied it to a brick and hurled it through my parlor window.”

  Colin fought the fury which mounted in his blood. The blighter must be deranged to throw a brick through his mother’s parlor window, although it was possible the man could have confused the addresses. This was too much. It also seemed to affirm that he was not being held in gaol.

  “Mother, it appears to be from Lord Whitton…”

  “The man—I will not call him a gentleman—is a wastrel. I cannot imagine any business you might have with him,” she said, cutting him off. “Seriously, though, Colin, you cannot but admit I have been most indulgent with your need for adventure. I have asked little of you and have waited patiently for you to marry.” The last word was almost acerbic. “Pray tell me, what business have you entered with this man that he would do such a thing?”

  “Mother, he wagered a deed for a building—that I had not until this morning even seen—on a game of chance. He lost.” Colin decided it would be better to leave out the attempt on his life. His mother knew naught about his business dealings, and he wanted to keep it that way, as much as was possible. “I gave him the opportunity to pay his debt in full, even after losing the deed, and he has chosen this route instead. As it is, I am questioning the validity of the deed itself. It could be a forgery.”

  “Mercy! she exclaimed. “His family is of excellent stock. I cannot imagine what could have driven him to such lengths.” She paused. “What more can you tell me about the circumstances of this… debt?”

  He never doubted his mother’s intelligence. She was astute. “It is supposed to be a vacant building in Russell Square. Morray, Bergen, and I went there this morning, to scrutinize it. It was not vacant. A Miss Mason has opened an orphanage there.”

  How strange. His mother smiled and suddenly, her demeanor changed.

  “The Dowager Whitton’s granddaughter?” she queried, yet it seemed she merely wished for confirmation.

  “Do you know her? I do not recall ever seeing her at a ton event,” he acknowledged, continuing ruminatively, “Miss Mason was most unwelcoming.”

  “Pish! She is a delightful young woman and most intelligent. I met her once at a tea party held by her grandmother. She came with her mother. A beautiful young woman, to be sure,” she added, seeming to have forgotten the message wrapped around a brick and delivered through her glass window. “I did not have a chance to speak with her beyond the niceties.”

  He saw where this discourse was leading and struggled to put an end to it. He had no intention of becoming leg-shackled, even though Mother had effortlessly navigated onto her favorite topic—his marriage. Still, this information was useful.

  “I will admit the young woman seems to be a diamond of the first water. That being said, I confess to being bemused as to why she has not had a come out,” he probed gently. He would have remembered her, had they ever met. Although she had begun to occupy his thoughts since their meeting.

  “Her mother disappointed her parents and eloped with a handsome young lieutenant… Peter, I believe is his name. It is a curious relationship. The Lady Eliza Mason, her mother, maintains a distance, socially. She visits her mother but has withdrawn from any activity which would require her to be with Society, including balls and entertainments. Her daughter is an unknown. Lady Mason’s husband is the son of a barrister, who also was a merchant. I believe her husband also chose the law. I would have to determine the truth of that. However, the grandmother is very close to her granddaughter, a relationship encouraged by both parents. Because of the power of the Dowager Countess, her granddaughter has never been the subject of idle gossip. Neither has her mother, for that matter.” Lady Shefford set down her saucer and directed a half smile in his direction.

  “That answers a few questions, to be sure. Whitton has a reason to wish for the return of this deed, and I suspect it has something to do with an illegality. If what I suspect has occurred, it might not go well for him—even if his mother does not wish to pursue the matter.”

  “You infer that he may have falsified the deed,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I would be careful of admitting that abroad, even though his reputation has never been savory.” On those words, she stood up. “I am sure you will take care of this matter. Please extend my regards to both the Countess and her granddaughter, when you see them next.”

  “I will walk you home, Mother.” He rushed to grab his coat and join her in the street, finding her change of attitude very odd. He kissed her cheek when they arrived at her residence and he glanced to the right of the entrance, at the broken pane of glass. Her staff had already covered it with a board. “I will take care of getting this repaired for you, Mother.”

  “Nonsense. I have already taken care of it,” she said flatly as she reached her door.

  He watched the door close behind her before turning and heading back to his own house. Needing to address a bothersome concern, he fished in his pocket and pulled out the card. As he walked into the light of his office, he read the scribbled name over one that had been scratched out.

  Lord Wilford Montgomery, The Earl of Whitton

  Where he was merely concerned before, he was now deeply troubled. Whitton apparently knew the house he had hurled a brick into belonged to Colin’s mother, for this card had been left with Franklin. Morray’s fears had been well-founded. The Earl had found his way out of the lock-up and was on his own business. The question is… where is he hiding? As he opened the door, he gained his butler’s attention.

  “Franklin, have my carriage brought back around, immediately.” The brandy he had imagined having an hour ago would have longer to wait.

  Chapter 6

  Finally, allowing herself to relax, Nora shut the door and leaned back against it, taking a fortifying gulp of air. She had known better than to show uncertainty, but since the gentlemen were now gone, many doubts accosted her. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her body to become calm. What else could this morning bring her way? What if the deed they hold is real? She wished to believe it was a forgery, but knowing her uncle as she did, she could not take the chance.

  The cook scurried from the parlor, carrying a tray of cups, saucers, and the empty teapot.

  “Mrs. Simpkins,” Nora called softly, hoping not to perturb the woman and cause her to drop the china. The woman was forever moving in rapid motion.

  The housekeeper slowed and turned. “Ah, there ye are, Miss Nora! I had wondered where ye had gone. How did it go with the gentlemen?”

  “Well, and not so well, if that makes any sense. The tea helped, and your lemon biscuits were, of course, delicious. However, Lord Shefford holds a deed for this property, signed by my uncle.”

  “That cannae be right. Lady Whitton would ne’er do such a thing,” Mrs. Simpkins responded. “Ye need to speak with yer grandmama afore ye get in a pucker,” she cautioned.

  “I have the same thought in mind. I should go to her… but will you be able to manage matters here without me?”

  “Aye, I can, that. Never doubt it, lass.” Her gaze swung past Nora to the narrow window beside the door. “Will ye ever believe it? If the Countess hasnae just rolled up in her fancy chariot!”

  “Really?” Nora looked out of the window. Waving her walking cane in emphasis, Grandmama was instructing a footman in her requ
irements. Then she turned and walked up the steps. “Good gracious, she is here!” All at once, a rush of anticipation and dread filled her. She repressed her anxiety and fixed her attention instead on the man accompanying her grandmother. Who is he? I need no more shocks this day. Nora took a calming breath and opened the door.

  “Grandmama! What a pleasant and welcome surprise!”

  “Nora, is something wrong? I thought we had agreed I should visit today,” the Countess asked, concern evident in her voice.

  “Yes, yes, of course! You are quite correct. Forgive me; I am at sixes and sevens. Come in and warm yourself. There is a pleasant fire in the parlor. Mrs. Simpkins is fetching some tea and lemon biscuits.” It was perfect timing, but how had she forgotten her grandmother was to visit today? Disordered nerves! Nora took a deep, steadying breath.

  “That sounds like a lovely idea. I have some matters I wish to discuss with you, and afterwards, I would like to see what you have done here,” her grandmother replied.

  “I am a little done up, although otherwise quite well, Grandmama.

  “Before we go further, allow me to introduce you to one of my most trusted menservants.”

  Nora opened the door and a lackey came in carrying a trunk. She looked back to the curb and saw two more trunks and a large, handled wooden box.

  “I have brought Amos Woods to help you with whatever you need doing, whether inside or outside the house. He will serve the duties of footman and watchman. I would feel better if you would direct him to answer the door when you do not have any other duties for him.” She turned to the servant. “This is my granddaughter, Miss Honoria Mason. She is the headmistress here, and I wish you to do whatever you can to make easier the lives of the children and women living here. Place the trunks in the parlor, if you please, and remove them to where Miss Mason desires, when I leave. I have some items for Nora and the children.”

  “Yes, my lady,” he answered before returning for the rest.

  Nora realized that her mouth was hanging open in a foolish fashion and swiftly closed it.

  “Thank you, Grandmama. That is so thoughtful of you. We shall be glad of the help. Will he take the place of … ?”

  “The gardener?” her grandmother finished for her.

  Nora nodded.

  “No, my dear. Marsh will continue helping with your garden and assist you with maintenance.” She nodded towards Amos Woods. “Woods also has certain skills as a handyman and given your desire to open as much of the building as possible, as soon as may be, I thought the additional labor would be beneficial.”

  Mrs. Simpkins entered then, interrupting their conversation, and gave a small curtsey before setting down a tea tray.

  “Would ye like for me to pour?” she asked.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Simpkins, we will makeshift for ourselves. Would you be so kind as to show Mr. Amos Woods, our new footman, handyman, and man of all work to a bedchamber?” Nora asked, putting forth a cheeriness in her voice she did not feel. She noticed her grandmother observing her.

  “Yes, miss. I will be happy to,” the retainer responded, before withdrawing from the room.

  “Shall we have tea, my dear? I must say that I have missed Mrs. Simpkins lemon biscuits.”

  Nora found herself grinning, as she watched Mr. Woods deliver the final trunk. Her grandmother’s visits were a welcomed respite from the rest of her day. She would never be too old for Grandmama’s surprises.

  The Countess finished her tea and looked with satisfaction at the stack of trunks. “Come, now. I would like to see what you have accomplished. It would bring me immense pleasure to meet these children,” Lady Whitton prompted. “We will get to those later.” She gave a short wave towards the boxes and trunks in the corner of the room.

  Brightening, Nora thought immediately of little Amy and her devoted friend, Alice. “You must meet the two newest children, Grandmama. They are not sisters, but they are as sweet together as any two children could be. Little Amy’s mother died of a dread disease caused by her occupation. We have a wonderful group of children.” She glanced up at the wooden clock on the fireplace mantelshelf. I believe they will be washing their hands for their midday meal. Nonetheless, I would love you to see their rooms.”

  “That would be delightful. Shall we, my dear?” the Countess said. She rose from her chair and extended her arm to her granddaughter. “We will chat afterwards.”

  Nora took her grandmother’s arm and led her up the stairs and down the hall to the children’s large room, where they found the children in two lines, washing their faces and hands at the two bowls set upon a large table, one or two of the older children helping the little ones.

  “The room is very tidy, even with such a large number of children, and they are so well-behaved,” Grandmama observed in excited tones. “I am delighted you chose to begin our tour here. The room is so cheery, and that is good for the children.”

  Nora cleared her throat and clapped her hands. “Children, we have an esteemed visitor today, who I would like you to meet. This is the Countess of Whitton. It is because of her generosity that we have this wonderful school.”

  At her announcement, a dark-haired boy of about eight, and a tow-headed stripling a year or two older, attempted to bow politely. Grandmama smiled her pleasure. Not to be outdone, a red-headed girl and an eight-year-old girl came forward and curtseyed. The others cheered, with two exceptions…

  Before she could ask, a small child of six emerged from behind the bigger children, holding the hand of a toddler. “Grandmama, these are the two girls I wished to introduce you to,” whispered Nora, watching them walk towards them. Amy threw her arms up when she came near enough; leaning down, Nora picked her up.

  “This is Amy, and this is Alice. I mentioned them a few minutes ago, if you recall,” Nora said softly. “Amy arrived two days ago and Alice came a day or two after we opened.” Affectionately, she smoothed the older child’s blonde curls. “Alice has already become a wonderful big sister to Amy.”

  The Countess lowered herself until she was level with Alice. “Young lady, I have some special gifts for everyone. The only question that remains for me to ask is what are your favorite colors?” She gave a small nod to Alice.

  “I once had a doll with a pink dress. Pink is my favorite color,” the little girl answered happily. “And Amy likes it, too,” she finished.

  Nora crouched down with Amy, wanting to be part of this small gathering.

  “Indeed!” Grandmama looked at the smallest girl. “Do you like pink?” she asked merrily. Amy’s red curls bounced up and down in affirmation, and Nora was pleased to see a smile forming on her lips. “Then, perhaps I selected the right surprises,” she said cheerily.

  “It is a delight to meet you both,” the Countess said, giving each a small hug, before standing up again. She turned to Nora. “We have a few things to discuss, so we should continue our tour.”

  Nora put Amy down and showed her grandmother around the living rooms and the classrooms, pointing out what her plans were in the unfinished areas. She needed paint, some carpentry and cabinetry and was thrilled by the addition of Amos Woods as a man of all work. With his labor and that of the gardener, Marsh, she envisioned living in more comfortable circumstances. She planned to teach the fundamentals in reading, writing, arithmetic, and manners. In addition, she intended to provide some essential skills which would eventually enable the children to secure safe employment, away from the streets and the life they would, most likely, have faced without her intervention.

  “I can see that your present situation agrees with you, Nora,” her grandmother said, shaking her from her reverie.

  “Yes, Grandmama, I believe it does. I enjoy having the opportunity to help these children, and being able to contribute, in a positive way, to society. I wish for them to learn a trade so they might better themselves and have skills to rely upon in times of uncertainty.” Her own family situation was a salutary reminder of that necessity, she thought ruefully.
>
  Once the door to the parlor had closed behind them, the Countess stepped forward and gave her granddaughter a big hug.

  “Tell me, child, what is the matter?”

  “You know?” Nora’s vision misted.

  “I see you are troubled, girl, and that is all I need to understand.” She gently wiped the tears from Nora’s eyes and looked around the room.

  “I am worried about the future of the orphanage, Grandmama,” Nora admitted as calmly as she could.

  “Nonsense. You have accomplished much here, my dear. What has you so upset?”

  Nora sought to avoid regaling her grandmother with the details of Lord Shefford’s call. She wished this visit could be only about the children and thus had preferred to show her the orphans’ adorable faces—faces belonging to the children Grandmama had helped. Nonetheless, Nora needed to know the truth. She drew in a sharp breath. “Grandmama, I had a visitor earlier this morning—three visitors, in fact. They left shortly before you arrived. The Lords Shefford, Bergen, and Morray called on me. Lord Shefford had in his possession a deed to this building which Uncle Wilford had signed.” She searched her grandmother’s face, and the disbelief she saw in that lady’s expression acknowledged her worst fears.

  “Lud! My son has sold the building?” the Countess exclaimed, her face coloring red. “How can that be?”

  The response was not what Nora had hoped to hear. She grappled with the icy feeling of shock and fear in the pit of her stomach.

  “Grandmama, Uncle did not sell it. He lost it… at the card table.”

  Her grandmother opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it and stayed quiet for a moment.

  “I will look into this immediately. In the meantime, I do not wish for you to worry about your orphanage, Nora. Come, let us be seated.” They both moved to the sofa. “This is highly improbable, my dear. My husband, your grandpapa, gave me this property, and I have kept it separate from the estate business.” She patted Nora’s hand. “I will resolve this. I should speak with Lord Shefford. If your uncle has hoodwinked a peer, there could be a steep price to pay, and I will be the least of his worries. Shefford is a powerful gentleman, and while I am not without my own connections, this could be disastrous for your uncle.”