The Earl's Secret

by TERRI BRISBIN

  “Have you seen them before, Mr. Archer?” she whispered. Her sister smiled as though amused by the awed tone from someone whom he suspected did not customarily observe silence or even quiet in most circumstances. “Come closer,” the little general directed.

  David noticed that Miss Fairchild stood back so he approached and offered her his arm, drawing her with him to the display cabinet. “I confess it is my first time, Miss Julia. Although I have read extensively about them and how Mr. Scott discovered them here in a box in February past.” Drawing her closer, he led the elder sister to a better viewing position.

  In spite of the early hour, the chamber was crowded with others inspecting some of the oldest and most valuable jewels in all the world. David weaved around several people and brought Miss Fairchild to her sister’s side.

  Impressed as he was by the jewels and their splendor, he found himself enticed and attracted by the woman at his side. That she cared about her sister was clear to anyone with eyes, but there was so much more to it. And even more he wanted to know about her.

  David escorted them to each of the cases and joined in with Miss Julia in exchanging bits of information about each one. She knew why there was a bend in the sword; he knew when it happened. She knew the names of the various jewels in the crown; he knew their weight and size. It became a fun game of tit for tat, and soon they’d exhausted their store on trivial facts.

  Through it all, Miss Fairchild laughed and asked questions, goading the two competitors along and making him forget, nearly, about his sister. He could see where Miss Julia got such a quick wit and strong mind. It was as they left the Crown Room and ambled along the path to the overlook with Miss Julia skipping ahead that curiosity finally got the best of him.

  “Tell me of your family, Miss Fairchild. Other than Miss Julia, are there more sisters or perhaps a brother?” The hesitation in her step lasted only a second, but he noticed it. “If that is too personal a question, I apologize.”

  David guided her to the wall so that they could see the expanse of the New Town before them. Construction moved now at an alarming rate after decades of near standstill. Soon, the buildings and homes would spread north of the city to the sea. When they stopped, she turned to him.

  “Not too personal, Mr. Archer, just not interesting. There is no one other than Julia and me. My parents died a few years ago—my father, Sir Donald Fairchild, first, then my mother.” She paused and glanced at him. “We live with my mother’s sister, my dear Aunt Euphemia, across the Water of Leith near the new area in Stockbridge.” He followed her arm and finger as she pointed out the new area, north and west of the New Town.

  “I thought perhaps there was a family connection with Nathaniel.”

  “None. My connection to him is through his sister, Clarinda. Do you know her?” She began walking away and he strode along beside her. Miss Julia was still several paces away.

  “I do not. Although I have heard that she is in town with her husband for their annual visit.”

  She sighed then. A simple, soft exhalation of air from the lungs, and yet the sound of it made his nerves sing. He wanted to move closer to feel that breath as it left her mouth. David cleared his throat instead.

  “I understand that her visits home since her marriage are limited, but it does not stop me from missing her and her company when she is not here.”

  She’d gifted him with a confidence, he understood that much. And at the same time, given him much more knowledge and insight into her life and her character. His visit to Edinburgh had been only for seeing to one task, and finding an attractive, unmarried young woman was not it. Given even that admission, David decided that enjoying the company of Miss Fairchild would help him bide the time until his departure. A departure that appeared closer now that an agreement had been reached.

  “Why do you not visit her then? Will her husband not permit it?” Nathaniel spoke highly of Lord MacLerie as his sister’s husband. He doubted Nate would have approved of a cruel or heartless man.

  “I fear that visiting her is not a possibility, Mr. Archer, no matter how much I would desire to do such a thing.” A meaningful glance at her younger sister told much about her reasons for not traveling to see her friend.

  “Ah, I see. Family responsibilities. A burden many of us carry, Miss Fairchild. But with those added to your teaching duties, I suspect there is not much time for leisure.”

  From his surveillance as well as the information provided by Keys and his men, David knew her schedule as well as her places of employment. Nothing was amiss in her life, but neither was there time or opportunity to enjoy all the good things life had to offer. Well, life offered it if you had an income that made employment unnecessary and unwanted.

  “I am not unfamiliar with the small pleasures in life, sir. I simply plan them ahead and do not shirk my duties to satisfy my own needs.”

  “Admirable, Miss Fairchild. Truly admirable,” he commented as they walked down the steeper part of the lane. He placed his hand over hers, appeasing some of his own baser needs in touching her so, and assisted her in the descent. Her words, which mentioned pleasures and needs, created all sorts of reactions in his body. “I only hope that this morning’s excursion has added to those small pleasures.”

  Damn him! He should not even jest in this manner. She confused him so—with her wit and self-reliance and sense of duty. But she was a gentlewoman and not to be toyed with by someone with no honorable intentions. That was not correct for he did not have dishonorable intentions so much as no intentions other than a pleasant morning outing.

  She did it again—she let out a sigh that captured his attention again. Where the first one indicated, at least to him, the occasion of loss, this one whispered of pleasure. Pleasure experienced during their time together. A small measure, but agreeable nonetheless.

  “This has been lovely, sir. And you can tell, can you not, how much Julia has enjoyed it? I tend to let her ramble on, but you engaged in such an interested conversation with her over the trivial details that confound me. She will, I am certain, speak of nothing else for days to come.”

  Their brisk pace and inattention to their path brought them to the portcullis gate much sooner than he expected. Not taking things to chance, he’d arranged for the carriage to be waiting there in front of the Castle for their use. Guiding Miss Fairchild to it, and drawing Miss Julia along as well, he decided to try to prolong their jaunt.

  “Would you care to join me for luncheon before you return to your other commitments? I promise to have you and Miss Julia back to the Gazette office or your home as soon as we finish eating.”

  David paused and watched as she considered his invitation. Saying it aloud in front of the younger sister gave him the unfair advantage he wanted. Miss Julia, although not speaking, fairly burst at her seams as she nudged and nodded at her sister. He tried not to laugh, a valiant effort he was certain, but it escaped him and she turned a suspicious eye to him.

  Anna wanted to refuse. There were so many reasons to end this visit and run directly home, but it was once again the expression in Julia’s gaze that changed her decision. She convinced herself momentarily that the look of anticipation in Mr. Archer’s intent blue eyes did not impact on it at all. But, long ago, she’d learned the difficult lesson that deceiving oneself never ended well.

  Anna wanted to remain in the company of Mr. David Archer.

  She glanced from one to the other and nodded her head. “I will hold you to your promise, Mr. Archer. I must be at the school by no later than half past one. Julia, if we lunch with Mr. Archer, you must accompany me there.”

  Now that she’d set the rules of this continued encounter, Anna waited for compliance or some semblance of it from the other two in the carriage. Julia capitulated first.

  “Oh, yes, Anna! And I will practice my sums while you teach!” Julia’s sudden enthusiasm for learning numbers was suspect of course, but it revealed much to Anna about how tedious and regimented their lives were. A ne
w person, a polite invitation, some lively exchanges of conversation and Julia was halfway to infatuation.

  “And I promise as well,” Mr. Archer added in a voice that mimicked Julia’s in excitement but not in the tone. An undercurrent of maleness permeated his response and the wicked and enticing grin that accompanied the innocent words also told her much. He was a man, a stranger for all intents and purposes, and one from whom she needed to keep a modicum of reserve and space. “Yes, Miss Fairchild, we both promise,” he added.

  “Very well then, Mr. Archer. However, I do have one more requirement of you. So far, all our talk has been of Edinburgh. Neither Julia nor I have had the opportunity to visit London. Perhaps you could enlighten us about the city while we eat?”

  “I am not certain that I know the information pertinent to your fairer gender, but I will give it my best effort, Miss Fairchild.” Julia did let out a squeal at that point, but muffled it by coughing at once.

  “Do you have any ideas of where to eat or would you like some suggestions?”

  “Actually, there is a place I discovered on the High Street, not far from Holyrood House that has excellent food. Nathaniel took me there just yesterday and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Driver,” he called out, “we will make that stop after all.”

  So, he’d planned this all along. Yet, instead of dreading it, Anna felt exhilarated by the thought of continuing in his company. He’d been attentive and courteous and, more importantly to her, he’d been kind to Julia this morning. Their conversation—once the topic of the Honours of Scotland had been exhausted—included a bit of everything—family, friends, town, Scotland and anything else that could be encountered in a well-mannered conversation.

  Soon they were ensconced at a well-worn table before the window at a small pub, eating roasted chicken and turnips and bread steaming hot from the oven. In spite of his assurances to the contrary, Mr. Archer regaled them with tales of balls and assemblies and society gossip. Anna held her tongue and did not ask about the one person she wished to know about most—her competitor for public opinion, Lord Treybourne. Mr. Archer seemed to be at no loss in describing any number of persons of the highest standing, leading her to believe that he must either be related to or work for someone high in His Majesty’s standing. Anna did notice that he never once mentioned his own family and did not talk of the sister whom he’d lost.

  Anna noticed that he also did not mention any other women in his life—there was not a word about a betrothed or a wife or even a dead wife. Surely in describing the feminine interests of London, he would have slipped in a mention of such a person, if she existed.

  After what seemed to be the passing of only a few minutes, Mr. Archer reached into his waistcoat pocket, checked his watch another time and nodded to her. Their splendid morning excursion was done and it was time to return to her commitments. Julia did not argue, thank goodness, and their host guided them back to the carriage for the short ride to the school farther down the High Street. The carriage clattered to a stop and Mr. Archer climbed out first to assist them.

  “I have enjoyed myself immensely this morning, Miss Fairchild. Miss Julia,” he said with a bow.

  Anna curtsied, as did Julia, and then she smiled. “I believe I can say in all candor that Julia and I have not had such a pleasant outing in many months, sir. Our thanks.”

  She walked to the door and was surprised as it opened inwardly by itself… Rather with the help of several of the women who now gawked at Mr. Archer where he still stood watching her. Anna tried to shoo them away from the door, and the windows she noticed, but they continued to spy until he turned and strode back to the waiting carriage. It was just as she shut the door and prepared herself to face her pupils that Becky’s soft voice whispered across the room.

  “Lord a-mercy, ain’t he a prime looker?”

  Acknowledging silently that yes, Mr. Archer was indeed a handsome and dashing figure of a man, she turned her gaze on the girl. “Isn’t he, Becky. The correct form is ‘isn’t he.’”

  All the girls who’d been watching out the windows and the door smiled as Becky corrected her words.

  “Lord a-mercy, Miss Fairchild. Isn’t he a prime looker?” her student asked shamelessly.

  “Yes, Becky, that he is,” Anna answered with just as little shame.

  It took several minutes of giggling and laughter before they could all settle down for their afternoon’s work. And if Anna found herself drifting off in thought and remembering how he’d looked at her or what he’d said, she blamed it on the silliness of the girls. She would never have had another second’s thought about the time they’d spent together or the way his eyes grew dark when she placed her hand on his.

  Never.

  Anna blamed it on the girls.

  Chapter Eight

  “My lord?”

  David glanced up from the newspaper he was reading to find Harley looming over him, wearing a dark and serious expression. It did not bode well for the rest of his evening.

  “Yes, Harley.” Folding the paper back up and placing it on the table beside him, David waited for his valet to explain his dire manner.

  “This was just delivered. Keys said it would be all over the streets in the morning.”

  Held out before him was a copy of Whiteleaf’s Review—the latest copy of it, which he could tell by the date on it. Nearly three days since its release in London, this month’s issue was just arriving in Edinburgh. It would be on Nathaniel’s desk in the morning and, now that he thought on it, David knew that Nate would not be especially understanding once he’d read this. David took the magazine from Harley and nodded a dismissal.

  Perhaps the essay was not quite as harsh as he remembered it to be? Perhaps his concern over Nate’s response was unnecessary and this would not cause any problems? He opened the issue and found his writings on page four. A few minutes later, he laid the magazine on his lap and closed his eyes as he watched the possible scenes that would occur at the Gazette’s office when the article was read. Wincing as they played out in his mind, David realized there could be no good reaction to this. At the same time, he did not remember his words being quite as vitriolic as he now read. If he wrote them after his encounter with his father, he could understand the anger and hostility revealed there. And indeed he had so—his failing memory aside, there they were for all to see.

  The clock on the mantel in the hallway chimed eight. Nate was most likely at home and finished dinner since this city kept to an earlier schedule than London, even than most of the English at their country estates did. He tossed the remaining whisky down in one gulp and called to Harley.

  “Ready a horse for me.”

  “My lord? A horse?” Harley took the glass and the magazine from him as he stood.

  “Yes, a horse. I must speak to Nate before he sees that.” David glanced around the study for his jacket. He found it tossed over a chair, as he’d left it on his arrival there.

  “My lord, would it not be more appropriate to summon Mr. Hobbs-Smith to you? You are an earl and he is only a commoner, after all. It is not meet that you should chase him down.”

  David smiled. No one protected his importance more than Harley did. Always cognizant of the right way of doing things, it took but one look at the disdain on the man’s face to know he thought that David was lowering himself.

  “If it were earlier in the day, I would heed your advice, Harley. But as a man of honor I must explain this—” he pointed to the publication “—to Nathaniel before he reads it. I gave my word to him and this would mislead him into believing I was reneging on that pledge.”

  Duty and honor Harley understood and it won the argument. “Very good, my lord.” The man disappeared toward the back of the house and in a short time David found his overcoat tossed over his arm and his hat in his hand as he was guided out to the yard behind the house. A carriage stood waiting.

  “A horse would have been sufficient, Harley,” he muttered as he tugged on the coat and climbed inside.


  “Sir,” he said, glancing at the driver who stood nearby listening to every word. “’Tis night and you are not familiar with the area. One wrong turn and you could be in the seediest area of the city. Or go down one of the closes or blasted wynds and find no way out.” Harley closed the door. “Or be accosted by hooligans along the way.”

  Not wanting Harley to continue his diatribe or delay his arrival at Nate’s any longer, David rapped on the roof of the carriage. “Go!”

  He sat back and began to think on how he could inform his friend of the contents of the essay and still keep his pledge. When they pulled over to the curb in front of the New Town home of the Hobbs-Smith family, he was no closer to finding the right words than when he realized the impact of the release of his essay.

  Climbing from the carriage and approaching the door, David was struck by the thought that this would also have some effect on Miss Fairchild. She was involved, though he knew not the complete extent of it, in Nate’s publication. She mentioned that she helped him and David suspected that it was to correct the weakness Nate had in the art of composition and grammar. A person with such skills would be an asset in producing a magazine aimed at the more educated and literate classes.

  A woman in that position was unusual, bordering on questionable, but with their family connections and functioning as a proofreader, he supposed that it was still acceptable…here in Edinburgh. In London, a woman doing such a thing would most likely be cut from polite society, where women were expected to worry about things like marriage and balls and not their survival, as he deduced Miss Fairchild had to worry over.

  Keenly aware from his own interests of the plight of the women outside the polite society in England of the difficulties she would face if unemployed, David expected that that realization was the cause for his discomfort. Although Lord Treybourne needed to appear to be the staunchest of those opposed to social and parliamentary reform, in truth it was what he used the funds from his father to support. Just as he was certain that Nathaniel used some of his profits to fund charities for the causes he favored, his own money had established and continued to maintain two orphanages and a school for those orphans, all out of the sight of his father’s scrutiny.