Justin’s eyes considered her, and since he knew nothing about Amelia’s elopement, she wondered what he thought she meant.
“The courts won’t give him that,” Justin said after a moment.
“How can you be sure?”
“Because the only rights illegitimate children have are those that are accorded them if they are legally recognized. Your father has never done that.”
It wasa’t a question. He knew as well as she did that Brynmoor’s pride wouldn’t allow him to recognize a bastard grandson, not even had he been competent to do so. He would ignore Drew’s existence, just as he had buried the daughter who had shamed him, long before her death.
“David has proof,” Sarah said hesitantly, knowing she was treading dangerously near to breaking her oath.
“What kind of proof?”
“Something I signed. Verifying Andrew’s...paternity.”
Justin’s eyes had hardened again, still focused on her face. “Since you will be your father’s heir, Osborne might believe he can use that paper to force you to acknowledge the child’s rights to the estate after your father’s death,” he said, “but obviously he can’t use it to threaten Brynmoor. Even if he tried, such a threat would have no effect on your father. Osborne can’t possibly use his proof to get part of the estate until after his death. And only then if you acknowledge the boy as your heir.”
“Then why has he taken Drew?”
“What better way to make sure you’ll give him whatever he wants?” Justin asked softly.
Justin was convinced David would be staying in the district, somewhere close enough that traveling to and from Longford would be practical. Because, of course, that was one thing they had discovered from their questioning of the stable boys.
Osborne had been seen on the estate on two different occasions. Once he had even been seen with Drew. And no one had thought to report the matter to Sarah. Or to the earl. That wasn’t a mistake any of her servants would ever make again, Sarah thought. The fury with which Justin dealt with the grooms was another aspect of his character she had never seen before.
It was not until he ordered the carriage brought around that she realized what these frantic preparations reminded her of—that terrible night her father had discovered Amelia’s elopement and gone out to find her. The horses’ breath, mingling with the cold air, had been visible then as well, drifting thick and white in the ghostly light of the lanterns.
“I’m going with you,” she had said then. Her father had ignored her, the crack of his whip against the backs of his bays his only answer. Justin looked down on her a long moment as she stood beside the carriage, uttering the same words she had said that long-ago night. His eyes were still cold, his face set.
“I’ll travel faster without you,” he said.
“Please, Justin,” she begged. “Whatever you think about what I’ve done, please let me come.”
“What if you’re wrong?” he asked.
“About David?”
“Maybe Drew’s fallen asleep somewhere.”
“If you really believed that, you’d be searching for him here.”
“I’ll leave that to you and the servants,” Justin said.
“What if he’s already taken Drew away?”
“He hasn’t,” Justin said. “That isn’t what this is about. You said it yourself.”
“And what if I’m wrong about that?” she asked. “Please take me with you. I can’t bear to stay here, waiting and not knowing.”
His eyes studied hers a long time, and then he held out his hand. Her throat closed with gratitude and relief. She put her fingers into his and felt them tighten firmly.
“If we find them... When we find them,” he amended, “I’ll handle Osborne. Is that understood?”
He gave her no choice. Reluctantly, she nodded, and he pulled her up into the carriage. Almost before she had time to settle on the seat beside him, Justin touched the leader with the tip of his whip, sending the bays thundering into the darkness.
They found Osborne at the third of the posting inns they visited. They would have found him sooner had the two estates not lain in such close proximity to several well-traveled roads. They had simply chosen the wrong ones to search first.
Justin was just as effective in dealing with innkeepers as with stable boys, Sarah discovered. They answered his questions without hesitation, accurately reading what was in his eyes. He would brook no nonsense, and they knew it. A sense of mastery he had obviously learned during his years as an officer under Wellington, and he had not forgotten how to convey it.
Sarah didn’t know what would happen when he confronted David. Justin hadn’t told her what he planned. In fact, he had barely spoken to her. Nothing beyond the questions necessary to extract every bit of information he thought might help them locate Drew. She had told him everything she knew. And nothing at all that was important.
“He’s here,” Justin said.
Sarah had followed him inside, waiting by the banked fire in the parlor, since the lad who opened the door for them had had to wake the innkeeper. She had done the same thing when Justin questioned the hosts at the first two inns. And by the time Justin had pulled the team up here, she was beginning to think he had been wrong about David’s motives in taking his son. And beginning to be afraid.
“Is Drew with him?” she asked.
“The host didn’t see Osborne this evening, so he couldn’t confirm if he bad anyone with him when he returned.”
“Then—” she began.
“One of his serving girls took supper up to Mr. Osborne’s room. He asked for mulled wine. And a glass of cider.”
Cider for Drew, she realized. “I want to go with you,” she said. “I want to see him.”
“Someone is coming to build up the fire. I’ll bring Drew to you here.”
“What if David won’t let him come?” she asked.
She watched Justin’s mouth move, the change in its alignment slow and subtle. It took a few seconds for her to realize that what she was seeing was a smile. A parody of the one she was heartbreakingly familiar with and had seen far too seldom since he had returned. This expression was something very different from that. It was as cold as his questions to the stable boys had been. As hard as his eyes when he had asked her to tell him about David.
“If Drew wants to come home, Sarah,” he said softly, his gaze holding hers, “then I’ll bring him.”
“If he wants to come home?” she echoed.
“Osbome is his father.”
“And Drew barely knows him.”
“Drew has a hunger for masculine attention. Who better to supply that need than his own father?”
You, she thought, just as she had from the beginning. She didn’t say it, however, because there was already enough pain inherent in this situation. If Drew chose to stay with David, it would be as much a rejection of the attachment he had formed to Justin as it would be of his feelings for her.
Drew wouldn’t do that, she told herself. He adored Justin. And he loved her. There was nothing—no one—she thought fiercely, not even the charming David Osborne, who could break the bonds they had formed. “He’ll want to come home,” she said.
Justin’s lips tightened, and he held her eyes. Finally he nodded. “Then I’ll bring him to you,” he promised.
“I want no trouble,” the innkeeper whispered as he pointed to the door. “I run a respectable house. And I don’t want my guests disturbed.”
“Nor do I,” Justin said.
The less gossip about tonight’s events the better, he thought. He had known the truth of that from the moment Sarah realized where Drew must be. And with whom. Questioning the staff at Longford couldn’t be avoided, but for all they knew, the man he had asked them about was really a stranger. There was no way they could connect Osborne with the old scandal.
The countryside abounded with apocryphal tales of stolen children. Small boys forced into the cruel slavery of the sweeps. Children snatche
d by Gypsies or even, according to the locals, by fairies. Nothing he or Sarah had said in front of the servants had indicated Osborne’s kinship to Andrew.
Sarah had lived with her secrets so long they were second nature to her now, he supposed. And he... He had been protecting her. And protecting Drew, of course. He had done the same thing for his father’s and his brother’s reputations. Sarah was his wife, and the vows he had sworn in this marriage of convenience had included one to love and protect her.
He wondered how willing he would have been to do that had his hand not brushed across that strand of misshapen pearls. When Sarah had shown up at his door tonight, protection had been the last thing on his mind. He had been prepared finally to claim what was his. His at least legally. Determined that this time, no matter the circumstances, Sarah wouldn’t evade him.
. Instead, he was standing outside the door of the man who had taken her away from him, about to demand that he return Sarah’s illegitimate son. Despite what he had said to Sarah, Justin knew he had nothing to use as leverage against Andrew’s father. Nothing but Sarah’s conviction that Osborne didn’t really want Drew. And his own acknowledgment of how much he did.
“You can go,” he said to the host, without even glancing in his direction. Then, not waiting to see if he had been obeyed, he raised his fist and pounded it against the heavy oak that was all that separated him from David Osborne. And from Sarah’s son.
Chapter Twelve
The features of the man who opened the door were even more pleasant than they had appeared in the fading light of the clearing. Especially when he smiled.
“What an unexpected honor,” David Osborne said.
“Unexpected?” Justin questioned.
The smile widened. “I expected Sarah, of course. I must confess your arrival is a surprise. Would you like to come in, my lord?” David stepped back, gesturing toward the chamber behind him.
Not the landlord’s best parlor, Justin decided, but there was a brisk fire. The remains of the supper Osborne had ordered was spread out on a table before it. A small mound disturbed the smoothness of the bed, visible in the darkest corner of the room.
“We can talk in the hall,” Justin suggested.
“Whatever you have to say,” David said, his eyes amused, “you may say in front of my son. He isn’t a baby, you know.”
The mocking phrase struck a chord. Justin had heard Drew make that claim a half dozen times, usually about something Sarah had said or done. Or about something she had forbidden him to do.
Osborne had probably used Drew’s desire to be seen as more mature than he really was in order to bring this off. His mockery was almost an admission of that. And a warning that in the short time he had been around Drew, he had gleaned a great deal of understanding about the child.
“No?” David said, when Justin hesitated. “Then I’m afraid I must bid you good-night, my lord. We have a long journey tomorrow. And whatever your custom may be, I don’t conduct business in the hallway of a public house.”
He began to close the door, but the earl’s hand, fingers spread, flattened against it, then pushed, widening the opening.
“Changed your mind?” David said agreeably. He released the door, apparently choosing not to engage in a show of strength this early. “The wine’s still warm,” he continued, moving back into the room. “You’ll find the bottle on the hearth.”
Again the sweep of his arm invited, almost theatrically. This time, Justin reluctantly stepped over the threshold. He limped across to the fire, ignoring the stone bottle that held the mulled wine. He needed nothing else to drink. His head was reminding him of the brandy he’d consumed earlier tonight.
He turned around to face the door and found Osborne’s eyes focused on his right foot, the artificial one. Slowly the blue gaze lifted to Justin’s face. That same mocking smile played about Osborne’s lips.
Too obvious, you bastard, Justin thought, almost amused by the blatant attempt to unsettle him. He was surprised at how little effect it had. And that misjudgment made Osborne seem far less clever than Justin had given him credit for being.
“Vitoria,” he said easily, holding Osborne’s eyes. “Since you’re curious.”
“Drew told me all about it,” David said. “I understand you were very heroic. My humble congratulations, to go along with the thanks of a grateful nation, of course.” His eyes were as derisive as his voice.
Ignoring that provocation as well, Justin asked the question that had brought him here. “What do you want?”
“I want my son. I should think that would be obvious by now. Even to Sarah.”
“It seems rather late for your paternal interest to have manifested itself.”
“I knew nothing about caring for an infant. I told Sarah as much. Now, of course...” He shrugged.
“Drew and nothing else?” the earl asked softly. “Would you be willing to sign a paper to that effect?”
Osborne laughed. “I’ll tell you exactly what I told Sarah. Drew is entitled to his rightful inheritance. I want no more than that. Only what is due the boy as Brynmoor’s grandson.”
“His inheritance. Which you intend to oversee for him.”
“Of course. Brynmoor is no longer capable of administering his assets. Sarah may try, but I doubt the courts will find her a proper steward for holdings that vast and diversified.”
“Sarah employs a competent man of business,” Justin said.
“As well as having recently acquired a husband,” David suggested, smiling. “Whose needs, if you’ll forgive the reminder, have proven to be quite a drain on her resources. Or should I say on her father’s resources?”
The earl considered the point of that digression. “And Sarah’s husband may therefore be considered by the courts not to have Andrew’s best interests at heart,” he said. “Or at least not the best interests of his... rightful inheritance.”
“I had heard you were astute,” David admitted, his tone complimentary.
“You want Drew because you want control of Brynmoor’s wealth.”
“Of my son’s inheritance,” Osborne corrected. He was still smiling.
“Your son. Of course, you can prove that.”
“I told Sarah I could. I showed her the documentation. Which bears her own signature, by the way.”
“I don’t suppose you would like to show it to me?”
Osborne’s eyes considered him a moment. His lips pursed, and then he said, “Sarah can verify the validity of my claim.”
“The courts will demand more than her verification.”
“I’m perfectly willing to let the courts decide the issue,” Osborne said. “The question is whether Sarah will be or not.”
“You must know that unless Bymmoor acknowledges the boy as his heir, Drew has no claim to the estate.”
“What are you arguing about?” Drew asked.
The earl’s gaze quickly moved to the bed. Drew was sitting up, his small face pale against the backdrop of the dark wall.
“I’m sorry, Drew. We didn’t mean to wake you,” Justin said.
“What are you doing here, Wynfield?” Andrew asked softly.
The little boy seemed more subdued than at any time since Justin had met him. Perhaps that was because he had been awakened out of a sound sleep by the sound of angry voices. Or perhaps it was for some other reason.
Was he already missing his mother? Having second thoughts about what he had done? Drew’s instincts about people were usually very good. And Justin was now convinced that Sarah had been right about Osborne’s motives. He was not interested in his son, other than in how he could make use of him. Perhaps Andrew was beginning to have doubts about his father as well.
“Are you all right?” the earl asked. His eyes, however, had come back to examine Osborne’s face. He noticed that David hadn’t even turned toward the bed when Andrew spoke, and he didn’t look at his son now.
“I’m all right,” Drew said. “I’m not a baby, you know.”
“I know,” Justin said.
“Were you looking for me?” Drew asked almost hopefully.
“Sarah was worried. She didn’t know where you were. I thought we had an agreement that you wouldn’t run away again.”
“I didn’t run away,” Drew said with a hint of indignation.
“But you didn’t tell anyone where you were going. That’s the same thing as running away, whatever your intent.”
“He was supposed to tell Sarah.”
He. Osborne, Justin realized, feeling a surge of anger.
“He didn’t,” Justin said. “Sarah didn’t have any idea where you were. She’s been very worried.”
“You said you would send Sarah a message,” Drew accused. “You said you would tell her where we were going.”
“She simply hasn’t received it yet,” David said calmly. “Messages are often delayed.”
There was no guilt in his voice. And no regret over the worry he’d caused. Of course, Justin believed that had been his intent. To warn Sarah about what might occur if she didn’t give him what he wanted.
“Sarah’s downstairs, Drew. She’s waiting to take you home,” Justin said. “Home to Longford. To your own bed.”
There was a long silence. Behind him, the earl could hear the hiss and crack of logs on the fire. From the small figure on the other side of the room, however, there was no sound at all.
“Don’t you want to go home?” Justin asked.
“I’m going to India,” the child said. “My father was once posted to India. They have tigers there.”
Justin took a deep breath. At least that question had been answered. With it, however, a trap had opened at his feet. He would have to be very careful about how he proceeded.
“Have you ever seen a tiger, Wynfield?” Drew asked.
“No,” Justin said softly.
“Neither have I. But I’m going to. You can come with us if you wish,” he offered magnanimously.
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