Gerard watched Juliet depart and felt as though he had lost his best ally. Yet he had to stay with the men. The boy Jack could not be more than twelve unless he was undersized and he stayed and was given a ration of port. The lad had been staring at him and Gerard sent him a sympathetic look that drew a smile in return.
“Let’s get our cards on the table,” the general said. “There is no proof that you are Gerard Cochran.”
Nash looked smug after that statement.
“I fancy there is a strong family resemblance in my favor.” Gerard glanced toward Claude.
It was as though an ember lit behind Nash’s gaze and burned under his dark brows.
General Cochran hesitated as he poured the port and a bit dribbled on the cloth. “All will be proven or disproven in good time.”
“After dinner we’ll have the trunk down, right, Uncle?” Charles asked.
“What trunk?” Nash asked.
“John’s trunk was sent home by messenger. It’s locked in his room. Can you describe it, boy?”
“He had three. Two large wooden ones with iron bindings for saddles, horse gear, boots and weapons. The third was well-oiled leather and held his uniforms and personal items. My trunk was a small wooden thing. I never thought to carve my initials in it as he had done.”
“Which one arrived?” Chandler asked.
“His personal trunk. I’ve received a communication from my solicitor in today’s post and he wants to be here when the trunk is opened.”
Charles took a sip of wine. “Well, when is he coming?”
“He isn’t sure. He’ll let us know.”
“Perhaps Gerard can just tell us about his father,” Chandler suggested, “As proof of his identity.” He looked at Gerard in a speaking way.
“I could but if General Cochran does not want to hear about the war there would be little left to tell. My father was a great and courageous man who followed his convictions and his heart into a hopeless battle that had to be fought and won, if not by him, then by those who did survive.” There was dead silence after this speech and Gerard was not surprised that no one could quarrel with it. Even Nash looked sad. Was it possible he cared about his brother?
“Where is he buried?” the general asked.
“I do not know, sir,” Gerard whispered almost as a groan.
“Here now,” Claude complained. “Why doesn’t he call you Grandfather if he’s Gerard.”
The general turned to blast him. “Because he has not been given leave to do so. Must be an element of the army training that rubbed off on him. He at least does not forget anything I tell him or flood me with inane comments.”
Chandler looked surprised at this defense of Gerard.
The scrape of General Cochran’s chair signaled the end of their male isolation and Gerard shot the rest of his port down his throat before rising. He had a feeling he would need the fortification.
Chandler walked with Gerard to the sitting room. “I think he likes you.”
Gerard coughed. “Is that good? You and Juliet are so normal. I begin to wonder if I really do want to be associated with the rest of these people.”
“You’ll get used to them.”
Gerard glanced over his shoulder but it make his side hurt. “Doubtful.”
“How are the ribs?”
“Aching like the devil but the port should help.”
Juliet breathed a sigh of relief when the men entered and there did not appear to have been “blood on the table” as Gerard had termed it. She did not even detect a simmering argument but no one was joking or smiling, not even Charles and Gerard. Though Juliet was exhausted from three almost sleepless nights, she went to the pianoforte and began to play quiet music that would not prohibit conversation but might encourage it to remain sanguine.
Charles came to turn the pages for her as he usually did, leaving Gerard to sit between his grandfather and grandmother in the only available place open, the middle of the sofa along the south wall. Helen’s grim smile did nothing to alleviate what Juliet thought must be a stab of agony in his side but he smiled even if it was a in a pained way. His face was so vital usually, showing every emotion, that pretending to be enjoying himself must be a terrible strain. Oh, why had they brought him to this house? If it was not a nest of vipers it contained a least two men who would enjoy seeing him dead.
She played as she glanced around at them, cataloging their sins. Emma and her children on the opposite sofa had the least to answer for. She and Melanthe were absolute doormats. Poor Jack was forced to sneak around for his own preservation. The general appeared to rule with an iron hand but Helen often countermanded his orders with impunity. Juliet knew she had tried to stop them from going after John and Gerard presumably because of the danger. But she was the general’s second wife. Nash was her son and Claude her grandson so it made sense that she would not want Gerard found.
Nash and Claude occupied the armchairs near the chess table and opposite the pianoforte. They were engaged in quiet conversation or perhaps argument, not to say conspiracy. She played everything she could think of ’til she heard the rattle of the tea tray in the hall, then ended with an almost military flourish that brought a dent to her great-uncle’s brow.
Gerard applauded by clapping his free right hand against his left without moving his left arm from his side. When his appreciation fell into dead since he said, “Sorry, is it not the custom to applaud in a private salon in this country?”
“Perhaps it should be,” General Cochran said and added his applause. The others followed suit. Juliet was so stunned that she rose and curtseyed to the family. Only Helen had ever complimented her before on her playing and then only in private and not very sincerely.
She came to get a cup of tea and seeing that Gerard had none yet, poured one for him. Her great-aunt had left the sofa to pour tea at the large circular table in the middle of the room so Juliet sat next to Gerard for a moment. “I guessed you might like milk and sugar.”
“You read my mind. They were such scarce commodities on campaign that we indulged ourselves whenever we could.” He took a sip. “This tea is excellent. You must have missed this while you were in France looking for me.”
“Seems such a small comfort.”
“Made great by the lack of it. Mother always stood by her coffee, bitter and black but Father loved his tea.”
“So you had a home life after all and memories of them.”
“A short one but family is family even if they gather in a tent or a hovel.”
“When did your mother die?”
“When I was fourten. She died in childbed in Spain. The other women did what they could for her but she was too delicate to have been following an army train or so my father said. His one great regret was that he could never make a home for her.”
“She could have lived here.”
Gerard shook his head. “General Cochran refused though possibly he had no idea there was no other home she could go to.”
“You said her family disowned her as well. Who are they?”
“I have no notion nor do I wish to know. Another pack of relatives to resent. What would be the point?”
“You seem to be getting on well with your grandfather.”
“You were right, Juliet. I find I cannot hate him after all. He is too much like Father.”
“I knew you would change your mind. You are one of the most kindhearted men I have ever met.”
“Me? What have I done?”
“Saved my brother’s life.”
“Oh, that. I find I am compelled to like Chandler.” He finished the tea and she took the cup from him.
“Let me get you more.”
When Juliet rose Helen sat down by him. “You seem to have a fascination for Juliet.” She had a way of lilting her sentences up on the end as though questioning everything. “I thought I should warn you that she and Claude are to be married.”
“Are they now? I keep feeling that I should somehow apologize to you for not bring
ing my father with me. If the general has lost a son so have you.”
“You cannot know all the family history then.”
“How so?”
“I am not John’s mother. She died when John was little. I am Cochran’s second wife. Nash is my only son.”
“Yes, of course. But a stepson is still a son or should be.”
She frowned and aged her face ten years in an instant. “It won’t wash, you know, pretending to be Gerard.” She said it so sweetly no one else in the room would know how she was trying to rout him. “There are a thousand things to trip you up.”
“If I may remind you I did not seek the family out. Chandler saw me by chance at the theater and noted the family resemblance.”
“I’m sure he did and cooked up this plot between you to defraud the family. Juliet must be gullible to be drawn into such a ruse.”
“Do not attribute to others a skill for subterfuge that you may find closer to home.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I think you take my meaning quite well,” he said gazing at the awkward Claude who stood a head shorter than his father.
“Claude’s mother was big-boned.”
“Then the portrait of her on the stairway is savagely inaccurate.” When he got the guilty start from her he expected he got slowly to his feet. “It has been a long day. I bid you bonsoir.”
Chandler followed him out. “What the devil did you say to Helen? Her cheeks are flaming.”
Gerard chuckled. “She accused me of being an imposter and you of perpetrating a hoax. While you are watching your back in this house make sure she doesn’t serve you any food others are not consuming.”
“Helen? You must have got it wrong.”
“Chandler, I can handle the likes of Nash and Claude.”
“You can?”
“But insidious women worry me. It is so hard to act against them. You have to wait for them to trip up but she will. She is too convinced of her own righteousness.”
“Helen? And what experience have you had with insidious women?”
Gerard paused with his right hand on the finial of the balustrade. “There were many of them after my father. I bid you good night. What time is reveille?”
“Some of us rise early to ride out and inspect the farms. Helen’s brood lies abed ’til luncheon which is the first meal of the day. Don’t worry, you won’t be expected to ride.” Chandler turned to go back to the salon, then hesitated. “You can ride, can’t you?”
“Yes and I can drive a team of six if it comes to that. I may not have been in the army but I did learn a thing or two.”
Chapter Six
Since Gerard slept late the next morning and Gordon had the kindness not to wake him, he missed the morning ride. The last thing he needed was junketing about on a horse. He requested a bath plus the inevitable rebinding of his ribs which Gordon did better than the doctor.
He found out that Gordon was a veteran, wounded at Talavera, hence the slight limp. When he returned unfit for farm work General Cochran had found employment for him as a footman. Gerard was not unmindful that if he were accepted as the heir, Gordon’s fortunes would rise with his own. Likewise if he disowned his new family, as he had half a mind to do, Gordon would be forever a footman.
And here he was thinking he would lose only the friendship of Juliet and Chandler if he left Old Stand. More depended on him than he realized. And if Helen would risk warning him off in the middle of the drawing room what would she not dare for her progeny outside the observation of others?
And then there was Juliet’s hand. He eased his way down the stairs around ten o’clock and heard music from the salon. It wasn’t the general who planned to compel Juliet to marry Claude but Helen. How could he make his grandfather see that was a mistake and unjust? How could he expose Helen as a harpy when she in no way looked the part? She was fair and sweet-faced. She hardly looked old enough to be mother to a grown man and a grandmother to another unless she frowned. He had seen enough plays to compose in his mind a scenario for exposure but it must be done subtly. And now he had time, a week at least.
That reminded him of his morning errand. He entered the salon, nodded toward Juliet and made for the desk. The music stopped.
“What are you looking for?”
“Paper and ink. There is none in my room and I left France in such a hurry my portable writing desk remained behind.”
She came to find the items he required as he seated himself at the small escritoire tucked in the corner of the room. “That’s an understatement. You left France with the clothes on your back and those were ruined by the bullet. How are we to get you some new ones? Your current wardrobe is most ill fitting.”
“A bolt to the village, that last one we passed through on the way here. I want to mail my letter anyway.” He spoke even as he wrote to Soutine, apprising him of the contentious family that he must set to rights before he returned and asking for his baggage. “Have I got this direction correct?”
Juliet looked over his shoulder and said, “Yes but will he send your things?”
“Why not?” Gerard smiled with a confidence he was far from feeling. The letter had one purpose only. Like the missive Juliet had posted from London it was to let Soutine know he was all right. Nothing else mattered as much as the old man’s welfare and peace of mind. As he melted sealing wax and pressed a coin into the hot liquid he realized he missed Soutine and Conde almost as much as he missed his father. He would have to go back but not just yet. He had his grandfather to study and one or two puzzles to solve. Not to mention winning Juliet if she would have him.
“And what do you mean about setting this family to rights?”
“Why Juliet, you were spying on my letter. Come, walk with me to the stables. If no grooms are about I can hitch a gig myself if only there is a pony or horse.”
She ran upstairs for some pin money and a shawl and bonnet. He hoped she would not drag her bothersome maid along. In fact he did not think there would be room for her in the gig. Gerard pocketed the letter and extracted some guineas from his money belt. He wore it always because it reminded him of his father.
When Juliet ran back down she was alone and took his good arm to stroll with him to the stables. The head groom, Conrad, looked dubious when he received Juliet’s request for a gig and horse since he knew the state of Gerard’s ribs. Gerard assured him he could drive such a small conveyance even one-handed but sympathized with Conrad’s intention to send a groom with them. Perhaps it was not the thing in England for a young man to drive his cousin even as far as the village unchaperoned.
While the horse was being hitched Gerard walked down the line of half doors and found to his utter shock Tully mucking out a stall. He suppressed a gasp and said, “We’ll take this groom with us.”
Tully gaped at him and shook his head no.
Conrad came and shook his head as well. “He’s lame and half blind. He may be a war hero to hear him tell it but he’ll be no use to you if the horse bolts.”
Gerard took a closer look at Tully and realized he had been wounded again and more than once. “Still, I want him for my groom. I’m sure no one will object. What’s your name, soldier?”
“Tully,” the old batman said with a sour look.
Once a cob was saddled as well, Gerard helped Juliet into the gig and took the reins one-handed as Tully mounted.
“Should you be driving?” she asked.
“Probably not,” Gerard said.
“I’ll drive.” Juliet took the reins.
They were not even down the driveway when Gerard said, “It’s safe to talk in front of Miss Chandler, Tully.”
“Then may I ask what the devil you are playing at? If the old tartar finds out I was yer father’s batman he won’t just fire me, he’ll have me strung up by my…thumbs.”
“So you were the messenger who brought the trunk,” Juliet concluded.
“Yes and very distraught I was too, thinking them both dea
d. I heard Gerard disobeyed orders and left Brussels for the battlefield.”
“I had to look for him, Tully.”
“And you didn’t find him, just as I failed to find you. Where the devil have you been all these months?”
“It’s a long story. Suffice it to say Juliet and Chandler came looking for me.”
“And they found you, didn’t they? So what do you mean to do?”
“Just trying to decide if I want to lay claim to these people as relatives.”
Tully coughed. “They do be a quarrelsome lot, present company excepted.”
“Thank you, Mr. Tully,” Juliet said.
“This makes everything so simple, Gerard. Tully can prove up your claim to be Major Cochran’s son.”
“But I don’t want him to. That would end the game far too soon.”
Juliet stared at him. “What are you babbling about?”
“Chess,” supplied Tully. “Whatever you do, don’t play with Gerard.”
He turned in the seat and said, “I take it from your presence and Gordon’s that Grandfather will support any former soldier but have nothing to do with anyone still in uniform.”
“That’s the size of it.”
“How is that significant?” Juliet asked.
“Don’t you see, my sweet? Grandfather is a sham. He has a heart of gold but would die rather than let anyone know.”
“What did you say?” she demanded.
“He’s a sham, a growl without a bite.”
”No, be serious. What was that part about ‘my sweet’?”
“But, Juliet, I thought we had an understanding. After all, you did come to France looking for a husband to which end I was spirited away to this den of insanity.”
Tully’s crack of laughter was overridden by Juliet’s outraged, “What? At this moment I understand nothing.”
“But you wanted me to return and marry you to save you from Claude.”
“I did that to save your life and bring you back where you rightfully belong.”
“Oh, you were not serious then?” Gerard thought he faked disappointment well.
“I…am speechless.”
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