by Diane Gaston
‘She is sleeping,’ Mr Yates whispered.
Cal already was plodding up the stairs.
‘Davies, would you be so good as to carry Lady Dory up to Eppy? I want to thank Mr Yates before he must leave.’
Davies reached for the little girl. ‘Where is his lordship?’
Of course, he would not know. ‘He—he encountered some friends and went with them.’
Davies frowned as Yates transferred Dory to him.
Anna gestured for Mr Yates to follow her to the drawing room right off the hall.
‘You have guessed?’ Yates said as soon as she closed the door. He sounded anxious and resigned.
She met his eye. ‘That you are her father? Yes, indeed.’
He leaned towards her. ‘You must say nothing of this. Nothing. Ever! Do you understand me?’
She did not flinch. Instead she looked askance. ‘Does Lord Brentmore know?’
‘He knows.’ Yates’s eyes flashed. ‘With Eunice dead, he and I are the only ones who know.’ He glanced down. ‘And now you.’
She peered at him suspiciously. ‘Is this why you are back? Because of Dory?’
Had not this child’s life been shaken enough?
‘No!’ He turned away. ‘I came back to make amends. And because I cannot neglect my estate and business matters any longer. I did not know the child would be here in London. I never guessed...’ His voice trailed off wistfully.
He swung back to Anna. ‘But I will not allow her to be hurt. Do you hear? She must never know. Never! If you do anything to shatter her secure life, I will take my revenge on you and you will regret it.’
He loved the girl, she realised.
‘You have nothing to fear from me, sir!’ She, too, loved Dory. ‘I want what is best for her.’
‘Then she must grow up as Brentmore’s daughter. She is his daughter in the eyes of the law. Do not ever tell her otherwise.’
Keep the truth from her, like the truth of Anna’s paternity had been kept from her? One should always know the truth, should they not?
Would she have been happier not knowing the truth about her mother’s character, her father’s true identity? Would she have preferred to believe she had only one father who didn’t love her?
Dory, apparently, had two fathers who loved her very much.
‘I give you my word, Mr Yates.’ She stared directly in his eyes. ‘You must give me your word that you will never cause trouble for Dory. Ever.’
He looked solemn. ‘That has been my vow since I learned of her existence. It will never change.’
‘Then we are settled.’ She blew out a breath. ‘And I must thank you very sincerely for escorting the children and me, and for assisting me with Dory.’
‘It was my privilege.’ His eyes filled with pain. ‘It may well be my only opportunity to hold her.’
She touched his hand in a sympathetic gesture. ‘Oh, Mr Yates.’
She walked with him to the hall. ‘Thank you again, sir. And good day to you.’
He nodded. ‘Good day to you, too, Miss Hill.’ He placed his hat on his head and opened the door, but turned back to Anna. ‘Miss Hill, if—if she should ever need anything, if she is ever in trouble, will you tell me, so I may help?’
His words touched her heart. ‘Yes, I will,’ she promised.
Chapter Fourteen
Brent did not see Anna when he managed to return to the town house. He stopped by the room set up as the nursery, but she was not there.
Eppy was with the children.
‘Where is Miss Hill?’ Brent asked her.
The woman smiled. ‘Taking a much-needed break, m’lord. Had a bit too much walking in the park, if you ask me.’
‘Is she ill?’ He would feel a complete cad if he’d left her when she’d been ill.
‘No.’ The nurse laughed. ‘A fair bit weary, though.’ She gestured to the children. ‘These two scamps had a good nap and are full of beans.’
‘We are not, Eppy!’ Dory giggled. ‘We have not eaten any beans!’
She and Cal had built an arrangement with blocks, putting the blocks side by side in a huge circle on the table and criss-crossing the circle with other lines of blocks. In one corner was a small looking glass. Two ducks from the Noah’s Ark were placed on the glass.
‘What is this, Cal?’ he asked.
Dory put her hand over her mouth.
Cal finally answered, ‘Hyde Park.’
‘I can see it!’ Brent exclaimed. ‘The perimeter.’ He pointed to the circle of blocks. ‘The paths.’ These were the criss-crossing blocks. ‘And the Serpentine.’ The looking glass. ‘What else will you put in?’
Cal took a long thin block and set it on its end. ‘Trees.’
Brent picked up a similar block. ‘May I plant a tree?’
Cal nodded.
‘I want to plant trees!’ Dory cried.
Cal handed her some blocks.
Brent spent a pleasant half-hour with his children, building their replica of Hyde Park.
Dory ran to her doll house and brought back the doll family. ‘This is Papa and Miss Hill and you and me,’ she said to Cal.
She did not add any other dolls to the park.
A clock struck the hour and Brent realised he was late. He still had to change his clothes and meet Peter at White’s. From there they would go to Lord Rolfe’s to dine and attend a musicale together. He would come home too late to see Anna.
It unsettled him.
He wanted to see her, although he could not explain to her why he’d chosen to go with the Rolfes rather than stay with her and the children. He could not explain to himself why he did not tell her Miss Rolfe was in the carriage with her parents. He’d hoped to hear something from her about Yates. Had he behaved well with her and the children? Had Brent’s trust been misplaced?
Mostly, Brent just wanted to see her.
Much more than he wanted to spend the evening with Miss Rolfe, her parents and his cousin.
* * *
The evening turned out to be pleasant, with nothing for Brent to complain of, except perhaps that he’d wished he were elsewhere.
The musicale had fine music—a skilled string quartet and a clear-voiced soprano—but it was torture to sit through it all, when his mind wandered back to his town house, his children. Anna.
At a pause in the music, Miss Rolfe leaned over and asked him, ‘Are you feeling unwell, sir?’ Her concern was genuine.
He shook his head. ‘I am perfectly well. The music merely gives me too much time to think.’
Her brow wrinkled. ‘Are you troubled?’
She was the sort of woman one could talk to and be guaranteed an understanding ear, but how could he confide in her?
He made a dismissive gesture. ‘A business matter intrudes. It is nothing.’
‘Perhaps Peter can help you,’ she suggested. ‘He is very clever at business.’
‘That he is,’ Brent agreed, although his cousin was not clever enough to accept the financial help Brent offered him. ‘An excellent idea, Miss Rolfe.’
The music began again and he had no need to continue the conversation.
* * *
At the next break, refreshments were served in another room. Brent acted the suitor and fixed Miss Rolfe’s plate for her. When he walked back to the buffet to fix his own plate, Lady Charlotte stopped him.
‘Lord Brentmore! How delightful to see you here.’ She seemed to have deliberately sought him out. ‘Do you remember me? I met you in the park today.’
‘Yes, Lady Charlotte, I remember you.’ It was not likely he would forget in a matter of hours.
She boldly put her arm through his. ‘Do you mind if I speak with you on a matter of importance?’
He glanced back at the table where Miss Rolfe and her parents sat. Peter seemed to be entertaining them very well. ‘Of course.’
They stepped away from the refreshment table.
‘As you must know, I am a very dear friend of Anna’s—Miss
Hill,’ she began.
‘I have heard her say so.’
That made her smile. ‘Well, I want her to come to our ball next week and she refuses, because she must stay with the children, she says.’
He doubted that was the reason. ‘She is very conscientious.’
‘She is. I agree.’ She took a breath. ‘But I have a very special reason for her to come to the ball.’
‘What is that?’ he asked politely.
‘Forgive me for saying so, but I do not think Anna should be a governess. I believe she can make a very respectable match if she is able to mix in society a little.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘Why, the one entertainment she did attend with me, she was a great success! She had all sorts of gentlemen seeking to be introduced.’
A picture of Anna surrounded by Yates and those other two puppies flashed into his mind, as well as the rush of jealousy he felt upon seeing them gaze upon her.
Charlotte went on. ‘I know she cannot reach so high as to a man with a title, but perhaps a younger son or some such.’
‘You think she can marry?’
‘I think she should marry! Do not you?’ Charlotte seized his arm. ‘Will you help me? I know it means losing a governess, but Anna is so lovely and so ladylike, she deserves to have a house of her own and children of her own.’
He had never thought that Anna might aspire to a respectable marriage, home and children.
The idea depressed him. ‘What would you have me do?’
‘Bring her to my ball!’ she exclaimed. ‘If you tell her she must attend, she will have to do it, because you are her employer.’
He frowned. ‘What of your parents? Will they wish her to be included?’
She grew thoughtful. ‘I dare say not, but they could not complain if a marquess escorted her. They will invite you, certainly. They do not expect you will come, but if you do attend, it will be a coup for them.’
Brent was not so certain of that. Perhaps Lord Lawton had considered him good enough to hire his bastard daughter as a governess, but would he truly want the scandalous Marquess of Brentmore to attend his ball?
Charlotte looked towards the table where Miss Rolfe sat. ‘Your friends are invited. I know the Rolfes plan to attend, actually. Your cousin was invited, as well. Town is so thin of company, they have expanded the invitation list to include gentlemen who will certainly be suitable for Anna.’
Was Lady Charlotte including his cousin in that list? That idea disturbed him. ‘You said she has already refused.’
Her eyes implored. ‘You can command her to come. Please say you will do it. If you have any regard for Anna, please say you will do it.’
Was he so selfish he would prevent her any chance to attract a suitor? He could offer her nothing but the lonely and thankless job of governess. No, her happiness must be considered.
‘I will try, Lady Charlotte. That is all I can promise.’
She almost jumped up and down. ‘I knew you would see it my way!’
‘I must get back to my party,’ he said, although the night had just become even more depressing.
‘Me, too.’ She smiled.
As he walked her back to the buffet table, he could not help but say, ‘Lady Charlotte, I was under the impression from Miss Hill that you suffered from bashfulness.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Oh, I do. I am horribly bashful!’
‘Then how was it you could speak with me, with such little introduction?’
She grinned. ‘When I am afraid, I merely pretend I am Anna and then I can be brave. I am pretending now and, I assure you, my stomach is full of butterflies.’
He nodded, admiring her courage for her friend’s sake—no, her half-sister’s sake, but Charlotte did not know that. ‘You must never feel afraid to speak with me, Lady Charlotte. Your courage on behalf of Anna has won my admiration.’
Brent dropped a few pieces of cheese on to his plate and walked back to the table where Peter and the Rolfes sat.
Miss Rolfe smiled at him. ‘That took you a long time.’
‘My apologies.’ He lowered himself into the chair. ‘I saw someone with whom I needed to speak.’
‘How nice for you,’ she said.
At least he did not have to explain himself to Miss Rolfe. It was another of her virtues, to not care enough to question whatever he said.
* * *
Later when Brent and Peter were in the carriage on the way home, Peter chastised him. ‘That was not well done of you, Brent, to leave Susan for Lady Charlotte. Not well done of you at all. I thought you wished to avoid gossip.’
‘Heed who you are talking to, Peter.’ Brent’s head already pained him. ‘I will conduct my own affairs.’
‘Affairs is a good term for it, Brent,’ Peter shot back. ‘You make the appearance of courting other women while saying you are betrothed to Susan—Miss Rolfe. You are using her ill.’
He glared at his cousin. ‘My conversation with Lady Charlotte was about a matter that does not concern you. If Miss Rolfe objects to my speaking to her, let her tell me. I will discuss it with her. Not you.’
‘I cannot leave this alone,’ Peter went on. ‘You are not behaving like a betrothed man. It is an insult to Miss Rolfe and her family.’
Brent was not about to let his cousin continue. ‘Enough!’ he shouted. ‘This was your idea, Peter. I went along because it suited my needs, but I’ll not have you scolding me as if I were the veriest schoolboy. I can walk away from the whole matter, if I choose, and I might if I have to listen to you talk like this.’
Peter looked alarmed. ‘You would not cry off! That would be the ruin of her reputation and the ruin of her family.’
A woman might cry off without censure, but if a man broke a betrothal, the woman was looked upon as damaged goods. Brent’s threat was empty. He could not do that to a decent woman like Miss Rolfe. He also did not want her family’s ruin to be on his conscience.
He’d had his fill of his cousin’s lectures, however. ‘If you do not stop plaguing me about this, I may indeed cry off.’
Peter backed off. ‘Very well. Very well.’ He was blessedly silent for a while, but started in again. ‘There was something else I wanted to say.’
‘Good God, Peter! You do not know when to stop.’ Brent crossed his arms over his chest.
‘It is a small matter, but I need to say it.’ He looked as if he might burst if he did not speak.
Brent gestured for him to continue.
‘Well, it is a matter of reciprocity,’ he began.
‘Reciprocity?’ What the devil?
‘You have dined at the Rolfes’ several times, but you have never invited them to dine with you. It does not seem polite.’
Brent could not believe his ears. ‘You want me to plan a dinner party now?’
‘You would not have to do the planning. Turn it over to your servants. Or, better yet, have your governess plan the dinner party. She’s been trained as a lady, you said. She should know how to hold a dinner party.’
Ask Anna to plan a party for his fiancée? That would be cruel indeed.
‘It need not be an elaborate dinner party,’ Peter said. ‘Merely a family one, with Miss Rolfe and her parents.’
‘And you, of course,’ Brent added sarcastically.
‘I would be delighted to come.’ He seemed to miss the sarcasm. ‘It would be a good time for Miss Rolfe to become acquainted with your governess.’
Have Anna dine with them?
He did see the logic in Peter’s idea, though. Anna and Miss Rolfe needed to be known to each other if they were eventually going to work together on the children’s behalf.
Unless he found a way to marry Anna off, like Lady Charlotte suggested.
Another dismal thought.
* * *
Two days later Lord Brentmore requested a moment to speak to Anna. She left the children in the nursery and attended him in the library, where he’d been ensconced with Mr Parker all morning.
Mr Parker, she was pleas
ed to see, was gone. ‘You wished to see me, my lord?’
He smiled, but it was not the easy, relaxed smile of their early days together. ‘Ah, thank you for coming, Anna.’ He rose and walked out from behind his desk. ‘Shall we sit in the chairs by the window?’
She complied.
She’d seen little of him the past two days by her own design, at breakfast and in passing. She’d not been alone with him at all. They’d not talked about that day in Hyde Park or anything else, for that matter.
He looked tired and worn. And distant.
‘What did you wish to see me about?’ she asked, wanting to rid herself of the suspense. There could be little he would say to her that she would wish to hear.
A sad look came over his face, but only fleetingly. ‘I need to beg a favour from you.’
‘A favour?’
He took a breath. ‘I am having a small dinner party tonight and I want you to attend.’
‘Me?’
She’d known of the dinner party, even though he had not mentioned it. There were few things that happened in a house that were not known to everyone in it. She knew the guest list. His cousin. Lord and Lady Rolfe. His fiancée.
‘Whatever for?’
It was going to be difficult enough to know the dinner was taking place. She’d planned to stay up in her room and hope the sounds of conversation and laughter did not reach her ears.
‘Miss Rolfe is attending and I think it is an opportunity for you to become acquainted.’ His voice turned low. ‘You must some time, you realise.’
She averted her gaze. ‘I do realise that, but I assumed it would not take place on a social occasion.’
‘It is more a family dinner,’ he explained. ‘And I think it odd not to include you.’
She lifted her chin. ‘Which explains why you waited until the day of the party to tell me.’
His eyes flashed. ‘I did so because I knew you would have this reaction.’
‘What reaction is that?’ she shot back.
‘This—’ He searched for the word. ‘Hesitancy.’
‘I hesitate because it is not my place to dine with you and your guests.’ To watch him interact with Miss Rolfe would be so difficult. She was simply not ready for it.