by Diana Quincy
She crossed her arms over her chest. “How exactly could you forget something so important, so critical to the girls’ future?” For as long as she’d known him, she’d believed Abel to be a man who could be trusted to do right by the children. But now a distinct sense of betrayal swept through her. “Why would you be less than truthful about something as important as Patience and Prudie’s future?”
“Have you always been honest with me?” He looked upon her with kindly eyes the color of smoke—a watered down version of the famous Fairfax eyes. “I do know who you are.”
Her knees went weak. “What do you mean?”
“I know how you came to be here. And why. I’m aware of the events that necessitated your going into service and becoming a governess.”
The orchard floated around her, its vibrant colors suddenly losing their luster, the red draining out of the plums, the pale yellows fading to nothing. “How long have you known?”
“Not long. I learned of it after I sent you and the children to Adam.”
“Who told you?” No one in London knew anything about her except for Harvey and Abigail Drummond as well as Abigail’s father, the viscount. And none of them would have betrayed her. She’d needed a clean break from her past to begin her new life in service. “How did you find out?”
“Something seemed off about you, but I couldn’t quite decipher what it was.” He took another bite out of his plum and chewed leisurely before continuing. “So I made inquiries.”
“You found out that my late husband’s family cast me out in disgrace and took everything from me yet you didn’t say anything. Why?”
“I saw no reason to.” He’d finished his plum and tossed the pit. “You look after the girls and love them better than anyone else could. They’ve flourished under your care, and you always seemed reasonably content here.”
“I was. You’ve been very good to me.”
“I’ve done what any gentleman with an ounce of decency would have. You, on the other hand, have sacrificed a great deal.”
“I was a foolish young girl who behaved recklessly and impulsively. It cost me everything.”
“You are far too hard on yourself.” He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You were treated abominably by your late husband’s family.”
“Will you tell the duke why Ben’s family cast me out…and the rest of it?”
“I see no reason to. I expect you will tell him yourself when the time is right.”
She could not envision that happening. “Why did you lie about Curtis? The vicar could provide a good home for the children.”
“They would have done well with Curtis, that much is true. But I believe you and the girls will be the making of Adam.”
“I don’t understand. Excuse my frankness, but your nephew is a scapegrace who cares about nothing but his own pleasures. He strives to avoid any sort of duty. He certainly isn’t interested in being responsible for the well-being of two little girls.”
“Adam had a strange childhood. My brother was a cold man who wed an equally cold woman. The duchess miscarried a number of times before and after giving birth to Adam, which is why there were no more children. They, neither of them, knew how to deal with a child.”
“But what does any of that have to do with Patience and Prudence?”
“I believe my nephew is a good fit for you and the girls.”
Alarm fluttered in her chest. Abel couldn’t possibly be aware of what had occurred between her and Sunderford. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Adam has never had anyone to care for. You and the girls have brought nothing but joy into my life, and I trust you will do the same for Adam. I want my nephew to know what a real family is like. I think you and the girls can give that to him.”
“You don’t understand.” She shook her head against his words. “He is not interested in having a family.”
“Only because he’s never had a true family. My brother and his wife were parents in name only.”
“Eventually the duke will wed, and then he will have a family.”
“I hope the woman he will wed stands before me.”
“Me?” Her mouth dropped open.
“Why do you think I didn’t immediately inform Adam about you once I learned the truth? I decided to wait a bit to see how things progressed between the two of you.”
Her cheeks were burning. “You cannot possibly be serious.”
“The two of you would make a fine match. And with him being the girls’ guardian, what could be more perfect?”
“It’s ridiculous. And even if it weren’t, I could never marry an unfaithful man.”
“Men change.”
She scoffed. “Not a man such as Sunderford.”
“I have a favorable feeling about this.” He plucked another plum from the fruit-laden branch above his head. “I had the right of it where you were concerned, and I still believe that I’m correct in this. Give Adam a chance. He might surprise you.”
Chapter 16
Sunny charged at Cosmo and plunged his blade into his friend’s heart.
“That’s it. I’ve had enough of being murdered by you.” Cosmo shoved Sunny’s foil—and its protected tip—away from his chest.
Sunny straightened, his hard breaths sawing in and out of his lungs. Perspiration trickled down his back. He reached for a towel to wipe his face and neck. “One more round?”
Cosmo shook his head. “Less than a month ago, you couldn’t even keep pace in the ring. Now there’s no stopping you. What’s happened to bring on this miraculous change?”
“You’re the one who said I was going soft.”
Cosmo’s gaze skimmed Sunny’s form. “No longer. It appears all of this vigorous exercise has brought about the desired result.”
Sunny had lost one stone in the past few weeks. He wondered what Isabel would think when she saw him. Would she notice the difference? Just as quickly, he cursed to himself. He needed to put Finch out of his head.
He was determined to keep his distance when she returned. He didn’t want her feeling pressured to provide any service to him beyond caring for his wards. Keeping his hands off her would not be easy. He still desired her physically, very much so. But he would set his own physical needs aside. He was not his father.
“Let’s join the others, shall we?” Cosmo said. They were on the lawn at Aldridge House, which belonged to Cosmo’s father, but the marquess himself was in the country.
The rest of their party was gathered on the terrace enjoying refreshment while the two men finished sparring. Will Naismith, Cosmo’s brother in marriage, and Vale had already joined the women—Cosmo’s wife, Mari; his sister, Eleanor, who was wed to Will; and Vale’s wife, Emilia—on the terrace after a vigorous workout.
The laughter and squeals of children pealed through the air as a torrent of the little monsters raced out into the back lawn. The two girls broke away from the boy to scamper up into the tree house built into a lime tree.
Sunny recognized Cosmo’s children, two energetic sprites with their father’s coal hair and full-bodied frame. But Naismith’s daughter, a fair-haired, delicate, young girl named Susanna, made him think of Patience and Prudence.
A pang went through him. His wards should be here playing with the children of his friends. It seemed impossible, but he missed the girls almost as much as he pined for Finch.
“Girls, be careful,” Cosmo called out to them.
Cosmo’s dark-haired daughter poked her round face out of one of the Gothic windows. “We will, Papa.”
Sunny examined the lines of the Tudor-style tree house. “That’s a fine structure.”
Cosmo followed his gaze. “My father had it built for the grandchildren.”
Through the glazed, open door of the timber-frame house, Sunny could see a cornice ceiling and st
ripped oak floor. It was a beautiful piece of work. “Whoever he engaged is a fine carpenter.”
Cosmo lifted a shoulder. “I suppose.”
Their conversation was interrupted when Cosmo’s hellion son launched himself at his father, and the enormous man pretended to be bowled over by the assault. Bemused, Sunny watched Cosmo roll around on the grass with his son, gently grabbing the boy but almost immediately allowing the child to break free. To Sunny’s way of thinking, wrestling with young children who didn’t know their place would be tiresome, but Cosmo was clearly enjoying himself, and the gentle expression on his face shocked Sunny.
His own father had certainly never spent time tussling with Sunny. The old duke would have viewed the exercise as an undignified waste of time. But decorum seemed to be the last thing on Cosmo’s mind as he laughed with his son.
“Enough,” the boy’s mother, the aeronaut, called out to them from the terrace. “Nicholas, come and eat and let your father have his tea before it gets cold.”
The boy reluctantly disengaged from his father and raced on ahead toward their mother, with Sunny and Cosmo following.
“You named the boy for your father,” Sunny noted.
The other man kept his gaze on his son. “I can only hope he grows up to be as honorable a man as Aldridge.” It was clear that Cosmo respected his father. Sunny had admired his own sire once, until he’d discovered firsthand the true extent of the man’s vileness.
When they reached the veranda, Cosmo immediately went to his wife, and Sunny overheard the man murmuring about wrestling with the woman later. The aeronaut shooed her husband away, but Sunny caught the way the woman’s heated gaze followed Cosmo’s retreating form.
Sunny leaned against the balustrade drinking lemonade to quench his thirst after an energetic afternoon. His attention went to Cosmo’s sister, Eleanor, whose husband had taken a seat beside her. Their attention was focused on their daughter perched on her father’s lap, chattering on about something or the other. Vale sat next to his wife whispering something in her ear that made her blush.
It felt odd to be surrounded by multiple scenes of domestic bliss. He’d certainly never experienced anything like it with his parents. And although he’d been invited to join this gathering and was treated as a welcome guest, Sunny couldn’t help feeling he was on the outside of something he couldn’t quite comprehend. It was like being in a new country where he didn’t speak the language.
Cosmo wandered over with a fresh glass of lemonade. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“I’m recovering from our bout.” Sunny took the lemonade and gulped half of it down. He followed Cosmo’s gaze as his friend kept an eye on his wife while she helped the children fill their plates with small sandwiches and sweetmeats. “It makes you happy.”
“Hmm?” Cosmo tore his gaze away from his family. “What makes me happy?”
“Marriage. Your family.” He couldn’t quite fathom the concept of marriages where husbands and wives enjoyed each other’s society. And that of their children. It matched nothing in his experience.
“It does. Once I met Mari, there was nothing I wanted more.”
“And other women don’t tempt you?” Cosmo had once bedded almost as many women as Sunny.
“Do I appreciate the beauty of other women? Of course I do, I’m not blind after all, nor am I a eunuch.” He finished his lemonade and set the empty glass down. “But none of it compares to the life I have with Mari and the children. I’ve no doubt my wife would leave me were I ever unfaithful. She told me as much before we were wed. I would never risk my family for a quick romp with any woman, no matter how beautiful or willing she might be. It wouldn’t be worth it.”
“Extraordinary. I never thought I’d see the day when Cosmo Dunsmore was faithful to one woman. And happily so.”
“It happens to the best of us.”
Sunny made a skeptical sound in his throat. “If you say so.”
“Look at my father. Aldridge was certainly devoted to my late mother. He never wed after she died.” He paused for a moment to reflect on that. “Perhaps in the end, we all become our fathers.”
“God, I hope not.” The idea of a son being fated to take after his father niggled at him. Blood will tell, the old duke always used to say. A terrible thought kept playing in Sunny’s mind. Had his true character, the darkness he’d always denied even to himself, shown itself the evening he’d bedded a woman who thought she could not deny him?
* * *
—
“I don’t want this horrible porridge.” Patience pushed the bowl away from her.
Sitting across from both children in the Harrow House nursery, Isabel continued to eat. “It tastes fine to me. Cook made it the way you like it.”
Patience crossed her arms across the narrow column of her chest. “Well, it tastes horrid to me.”
Isabel suppressed a sigh. Both girls had been peevish over the past few days. It had been a month since they’d left London. At first, Patience and Prudie had adjusted well. But of late, they were ill-tempered and often on the verge of tears.
She looked to Prudie’s untouched bowl of porridge. “Prudie,” she asked, “don’t you want to eat?”
Prudie shook her head while unshed tears swam in her beautiful silver eyes.
Isabel felt a tug in her heart at the child’s distress. “Do you want to go and play with your doll’s house?” she asked gently.
Prudie’s mouth turned downward. “No, thank you,” she said in a small voice.
“But why not? You cried about not having your doll’s house when we moved to London.”
“I don’t like that stupid doll’s house. Cousin Adam is getting me a new one.”
Isabel blinked. “What makes you think that?”
“He told me so himself.”
She tensed. Sunderford didn’t know enough not to promise a child something he wouldn’t deliver. “Oh, poppet, he probably forgot that he told you that.”
“I don’t care. If I can’t get a doll’s house from Cousin Adam, then I don’t want one at all.”
Isabel tossed her napkin on the table. “I wish I knew what you two want.”
“We want to go home,” Patience said.
“You are home,” she assured the girl. Harrow House was the only home the girls could remember.
“This is not our home any longer. We want to go home to London.”
Prudie burst into tears. “I want Cousin Adam.”
“And Pan,” Patience put in.
Isabel was at a loss. She’d assumed the children would be happy as long as they were with her. She couldn’t imagine that they’d actually formed a bond with the duke. Perhaps it was time to begin preparing the girls for the possible move to live with Cousin Curtis. “You know the duke is very busy. He doesn’t have time for us.”
Prudie shook her head vigorously. “No, that’s not true. He told me that Patience and I belong with him.”
“When did he tell you that?” Isabel asked.
“I was crying and told him that I wanted to go home to Uncle Abel’s. But Cousin Adam told me that I was already home.” She wiped her tears away with her palm, her enthusiasm growing. “He showed me paintings of my great-grandpapa and my great-great-grandpapa.”
“Well, that’s quite a surprise.” Isabel didn’t know what to make of this new information.
Prudie continued, her face brightening. “He said Patience and I have the famous Fairfax family silver eyes and that’s what proves that we belong with him. He said Sunderford House is our home. No matter what.”
“Are we ever going home?” Patience interjected. “The duke will be missing us.”
Isabel sincerely doubted that. The revels at Sunderford House had probably resumed the very day she and the girls had departed London. “But we wouldn’t want Uncle Abel to miss
us.”
“I have my books to keep me company.” Abel’s deep baritone sounded from the doorway. “But Adam is not much of a reader. I agree with Patience and Prudie that the duke will be missing you.”
“See!” Patience squirmed in her seat. “Uncle Abel knows that Sunderford House is our home now.”
“Yes, I do,” he said with a bow in Patience’s direction.
“Good morning, my lord,” Isabel said archly. “Is there a reason for this rare appearance in the nursery, aside from a desire to stir up trouble?”
“As a matter of fact, there is. I thought the girls would be interested to know the stable cat has just given birth to kittens.”
Both girls jumped up. “May we go and see them? Please?” Patience pleaded.
“It’s almost time for our lesson.” But Isabel knew the day’s instruction would be a total loss if she didn’t allow the girls to spend time with the new arrivals.
“Please, please, please,” Prudie chimed in. “Just for a little while.”
“Very well,” she gave in. “But I expect you both to come immediately to the schoolroom when I ring the bell.”
The girls promised to do so and dashed out to meet the stable’s newest arrivals.
Abel stepped out of the girls’ way as they ran past him and scampered down the steps. “They miss home.”
Isabel threw up her hands. “I don’t understand it. The duke is constantly complaining about having them underfoot.” She paused to think about it. “Perhaps not as much as at first.”
“There is something about children that makes them excellent judges of character,” Abel remarked. “Despite Adam’s faults, Patience and Prudie sense he is inherently good and will look after them.”
“If you spent ten minutes at one of his routs, you would not think he is so good.”
He took a seat opposite her. “There is something you should know about Adam. His was a boyhood defined by duty, lessons, and training to be the next duke. For the most part, he was not allowed to play with the village children. He was not allowed the freedom to explore and discover the world as most boys are. Once my brother died, Adam was finally free to do as he pleased.”