A Most Noble Heir

by Susan Anne Mason

Chapter

  6

  “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” Reverend Black’s solemn voice drifted over the group gathered around the gaping hole in the ground that contained Elizabeth Price’s plain wooden coffin.

  Somber clouds trudged across the sky, threatening to unleash a torrent of rain, but for the moment the ground remained dry. A gust of wind teased the minister’s long black robes and lifted the scent of freshly dug earth to Hannah’s nose.

  She dabbed a handkerchief to her damp eyes while fixing her gaze on Nolan, standing so tall and stoic across from her. She wished she could stand by his side, holding his arm as he bore this tragedy. But for appearances’ sake, she must pretend no relationship to him other than a fellow servant. Thankfully, Bert and Franny McTeague kept silent vigil beside Nolan, along with Mickey Gilbert and a few of the other hands.

  Nolan remained dry-eyed and still, staring at the ground before him with no expression to give away the pain Hannah knew was tearing his soul apart. Elizabeth Price had been the only relative Nolan had ever known. Now she was gone, and Nolan must feel adrift, like a ship without an anchor. Hannah wanted to be his steadying force, his refuge—just as he’d become hers since the first weeks she’d come to Stainsby.

  She remembered being that terrified thirteen-year-old girl, alone in a monstrous house with strangers all around. One morning, not long after she’d arrived, she accidentally dropped one of Mrs. Bridges’ best serving dishes. The crockery had split in two, cracked right down the middle. Certain that the misdeed would earn her a severe reprimand, if not punishment, Hannah had taken the broken pieces out behind the chicken coop and tried to dig a hole to bury the evidence. The small gardening shovel had little effect against the hard ground. Tears had streamed down her face, mingling with the streaks of dirt as she’d tried to cover up her crime. It was then Nolan had come upon her and, learning of her dilemma, had unearthed the pieces and taken them to the stable, promising to bring the restored dish back the next day.

  The following morning, she’d found the crockery sitting on the kitchen table, glued back together so well that she could scarcely see the crack. Nolan had come to her rescue, and from that day on, Hannah knew she had one person she could count on no matter what.

  The thud of the shovel hitting the earth brought her out of her thoughts. Reverend Black had said the final blessing and the men were throwing dirt into the hole to fill it. Most of the servants approached Nolan to speak their words of condolence on their way out of the churchyard.

  As much as she wanted to stay with him, Hannah had to get back to the kitchen and help with the food for the small reception. Surprisingly, the earl had ordered refreshments to be served in the main dining room for those attending the burial. For once, the servants were invited to eat with the family. A rare day indeed.

  Later, when most of the food had been sent upstairs, Hannah turned to Edna. “You go on up and join the others. You’ve more of a right to be there than a lot of the other servants.” Most of whom would show up mainly for the food. And for the opportunity to spend time in the main part of the house.

  Edna sighed and untied her apron. “Only if you’ll come with me, child.”

  Hannah’s heart gave a tiny lurch. She’d hoped to go upstairs and maybe catch a closer look at the earl’s daughters, Nolan’s half-sisters, who had come in for the funeral at their father’s request. Years ago, Mrs. Price had gone above and beyond her duties as housekeeper when the girls’ mother died, and apparently his lordship felt it only right they should pay their respects, though secretly Hannah thought it had more to do with their new brother than anything else. Hannah had no doubt that once the earl verified Mrs. Price’s story, he would name Nolan as his son and heir. If the claim were true, he’d have little choice. But what would his daughters think when they learned of Nolan’s parentage?

  Hannah pushed away a rush of apprehension, praying his lordship would not break the news just yet and allow Nolan this day to grieve in peace.

  Nolan stood beside the serving table in the main dining room, holding a plate of untouched food in one hand, a linen napkin in the other. It took every ounce of willpower not to bolt from the room and flee to the solitude of the stable.

  He did not belong in this ornate room, even filled with servants like himself. The oddity of having Lord Stainsby and the members of his family mingling with the staff made the situation far more awkward than it should have been. The fact that Nolan suspected the real reason for the earl’s solicitude only compounded his discomfort.

  Nolan set down his plate of now-cold food on the long dining table and reached for a cup of ale. As he took a sip to ease his parched throat, he noticed Evelyn, the elder of the earl’s daughters, and her gaunt-looking husband staring at him from across the room. Nolan’s stomach twisted, but he gave a polite nod.

  In the days before the funeral, Nolan had managed as little contact as possible with Edward Fairchild. An urgent business matter had called the earl away from Stainsby for several days, which had been a welcome relief. Now, however, Nolan dreaded the inevitable confrontation with his father and prayed the earl would wait a while longer before approaching him.

  Nolan set his cup on the sideboard and looked up as Hannah and Mrs. Bridges entered the room. A wave of relief crashed through him. With her fair head uncovered, Hannah shone like a ray of sunlight, piercing the darkness of the gloomy gathering. Before he could cross the room, Timothy Bellows slid beside her and took her by the elbow.

  Nolan’s hands tightened into fists at his side. No matter how many times Hannah rebuked Bellows’s advances, the redheaded footman would not leave her alone. Hannah tried to free her arm, but the barnacle remained attached. A low growl rose in Nolan’s throat. He took a step forward, only to feel a large hand clamp down on his shoulder.

  “Best not to create a scene, lad. Your mother wouldn’t have wanted that.” Bert’s mild warning rang in Nolan’s ear. “That rascal canna do much with all these people here and the earl himself in attendance.”

  Nolan’s nostrils flared like a stallion boxed in a pen, pawing the ground, wanting to charge. “That lout has his hands all over Hannah like she’s his possession.” Nolan had heard tales of Bellows’s frolicking with the local tavern girls, as well as several illicit dalliances with the kitchen maids, and Nolan vowed Hannah would never be one of his conquests. Hannah’s lack of interest, however, only seemed to fuel the man’s determination to have her.

  “Don’t let him goad you into doing something daft.” Bert squeezed Nolan’s shoulder none too gently.

  Nolan inhaled and slowly let out the breath. He noted Mrs. Bridges’ vigilant presence beside Hannah and fought to reclaim his sense of calm. “Thank you, Bert. My emotions are a bit raw today.”

  “And well that lad knows it. He’s probably counting on you doing something outrageous to discredit you with Hannah—and the earl.”

  Nolan watched as Hannah edged away from Bellows, picked up a plate from the table, and began to spoon potatoes from the large serving bowl. Bellows appeared miffed but didn’t follow.

  Nolan made his way to Hannah’s side. “Can I help you with that, Miss Burnham?” he asked, sending Bellows a frosty glare.

  Hannah smiled and handed him the plate. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Price. That’s very kind.”

  “No trouble at all.”

  “How are you bearing up?” Hannah whispered as she added a biscuit to the dish.

  “As best I can. Though I’d feel a lot better if Bellows would leave you alone.”

  “Just ignore him. He’s not worth a moment’s thought.” Suddenly, Hannah froze and then dropped a small curtsy. “My lord.”

  Nolan turned to find Lord Stainsby, unsmiling, beside him.

  The man inclined his head toward Hannah, then directed his steely eyes to Nolan. “Mr. Price, I’d like a word with you in my study, if it’s convenient.”

  Nolan’s chest tightened. “Can it not wait until the morrow?”

  “I’m afrai
d not.”

  Nolan kept his gaze even. He refused to allow the man to think he intimidated him. “Very well.” He passed the plate back to Hannah, whose expression mirrored the anxiety he was trying hard to tamp down. He smiled briefly, hoping to reassure her. I’ll see you later, he mouthed, and turned to follow the earl out of the room.

  Nolan walked behind Lord Stainsby across the corridor and into the study. Silently, he vowed to get through this conversation without losing his composure. He would show his father that even a stable hand could behave in a civilized manner.

  Inside the room, Nolan paused to take in the space. Except for the kitchen and the servants’ quarters, he’d never had occasion to see much of the interior of Stainsby Hall—and certainly not the earl’s private office. Leather chairs sat before a gleaming desk that took up a large portion of the room. Row upon row of bookshelves lined the walls. The lingering scent of tobacco hung in the air.

  Lord Stainsby crossed to the huge stone fireplace and grabbed a poker to stoke the waning fire. He gestured to the chairs across from the desk. “Please have a seat.”

  “I prefer to stand.”

  “As you wish.” The earl crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s time we discussed the issue we’ve both been avoiding.” His face remained as stony as the fireplace. “I have done some investigation to verify your mother’s claim, and it appears she was telling the truth. You are indeed my legitimate son, and as such, you are the heir apparent to the earldom, which includes Stainsby Hall as well as all the other Fairchild holdings.”

  For the first time, the reality of his birthright hit him like a slap to the face. Nolan swallowed hard. “Perhaps I will have that seat after all.”

  He sank into an armchair near the fire, surprised when the earl took the chair opposite him.

  “I take it this news causes you some distress.”

  Nolan wet his dry lips. “This whole situation has come as an enormous shock. As it no doubt must have for you.”

  He stared at the man before him, to whom he bore a striking physical resemblance—now that Nolan took the time to notice. The same dark hair, the same slash of eyebrows over vivid blue eyes, the same square jaw with a cleft in the chin. A huge part of him resented the fact that this man, once his feared employer, was now his father. That he’d lived under the same roof all these years and hadn’t known it.

  Did his father feel the same way?

  The earl fiddled with the collar of his shirt, as though his cravat had become too tight. “I will admit that this turn of events has unsettled me.” He regarded Nolan with a level look that softened. “On closer inspection, I see qualities of your mother in you. It’s a shame you never knew her. Mary was . . .” He paused to clear his throat. “. . . an exceptional woman.”

  “As was the woman who raised me.” Nolan attempted to bank his resentment, knowing his father must not think well of Elizabeth for lying to him all these years. Though Nolan still didn’t understand her motives for doing so, he would defend her with his dying breath.

  The earl gazed into the fire for several moments, lost in thought. Finally, he glanced over at Nolan. “I want you to know I had every intention of honoring my marriage to your mother. And that I was very much looking forward to the birth of our child.” He steepled his fingers, his brow furrowed. “My father was a hard man whose sole interest was his reputation and his position in society. Naturally, he disapproved of my association with Mary. But I was a headstrong young man. I wasn’t concerned about my father’s opinion, nor about my responsibility to the family name. I only cared about being with Mary.”

  “I can understand that,” Nolan said, his mind on Hannah.

  “My mother—your grandmother—was not a well woman, prone to bouts of angina. While I waited for her to become strong enough to relay the news of my marriage, Mary left Stainsby with no warning. I did not know my father had threatened her, and I mistakenly assumed she’d gotten cold feet about the marriage.” He pushed up from his chair and walked to the window. “I sent letters to her parents’ home, thinking that was where she had gone, but they went unanswered. Finally, around the time our child was due to be born, I was preparing to go in search of her when we received word from Elizabeth that Mary and the child had died.” The veins in Edward’s neck stood out as he worked hard to contain his emotions.

  As much as Nolan wanted to despise the man, a tug of sympathy wound through him. Perhaps he had truly loved the woman and had been devastated by her death.

  “With Mary gone, there seemed little point in defying my father. He had a suitable bride picked out for me, and so I married Penelope six months later.”

  From his dour expression, Nolan doubted the union was a happy one. Though Nolan was still a long way from accepting this man as his father, perhaps he could begin to understand the reason behind the earl’s bitterness and anger. “As I recall, your wife died quite some time ago.” He had a vague recollection of a funeral at Stainsby Hall, but being so young, he hadn’t paid it much attention.

  “She did. Not long after you and Mrs. Price came to live here.” Lord Stainsby moved away from the window and turned to face Nolan. “But that is all in the past. What I wish to discuss with you now is how we move forward from here. Your whole world is about to change, and I’d like to help you adjust to your new position.”

  Nolan tugged at the lapel of his Sunday suit. What he wouldn’t give to be mucking out a stall right now. But there was no point in putting off the inevitable. “Before I agree to anything, I’d like to know what would be expected of me.”

  The earl resumed his seat, one brow raised as if questioning Nolan’s intent. “To start, I’ve had a suite of rooms prepared for you on the second floor, down the hall from my own quarters. You can move in when it is convenient for you. Tomorrow, I will send for the tailor to measure you for suitable clothing.” He scanned Nolan’s attire with a barely disguised grimace. “You will need to dress the part in order to act the part.”

  Nolan grunted. More uncomfortable clothes. Just what he needed. “What else?”

  “You will be groomed in the ways of the aristocracy, and when you are ready, I will introduce you to society as my heir.”

  “I see.” Nolan gripped the armrest as though to keep him anchored there. What on earth would “being groomed in the ways of the aristocracy” entail?

  “I plan on breaking the news to my daughters this afternoon. Once they’ve had some time to digest the shock, you can meet your sisters.”

  Nolan stiffened. What did one do with sisters who came from a completely different world than he? Perhaps Hannah could help him in this area.

  As though reading his mind, the earl’s eyes narrowed. “There is one other important subject I must speak to you about right away.”

  Tension coiled in the back of Nolan’s neck. Instinct told him he would not like what was coming next.

  “As my son, you will no longer associate with the staff. Except to issue orders, that is.”

  Issue orders? To his friends and fellow workers? He opened his mouth to argue, but the earl held up a hand.

  “In particular, any romantic liaisons you might have formed with any of the servants must end. Immediately.” He leaned forward as if to emphasize his point. “After you have learned all that is involved in being a member of the noble class, we will find you a suitable bride from a well-bred family. One who will benefit us socially and financially, of course.”

  The crackle of flames in the fireplace became the only sound in the room. Coals fell in the hearth, and a flurry of sparks spurted outward, matching the fiery throb in Nolan’s temple. He jerked to his feet and paced in front of the window. Fat drops of rain slid down the pane of glass, mimicking his future that now seemed to be slipping through his fingers—exactly as Hannah had predicted.

  He sensed Edward come up behind him. “Nolan, I must have your word on this. A nobleman might get away with the odd dalliance, but he may never marry beneath him. The rules of our class
dictate that.”

  The last thread of Nolan’s control snapped. “You dare say this after everything you’ve been through with . . . Mary?” He couldn’t bring himself to call her his mother. “The heartache and the loss? Two lives shattered because of a title?”

  “Believe me, I’m only trying to spare you the lesson I had to learn the hard way. I will never forgive myself for what happened to Mary. In my arrogance, I chose to ignore the constraints of my world, not fully considering how it would affect her. Yet even if my father had relented and accepted our marriage, I’m not certain Mary could have withstood the societal pressures she would have faced.” A flash of pain appeared in the earl’s steely eyes. “You need to accept what life is like for those of us with noble blood. With great wealth comes great sacrifice.”

  Nolan barked out a harsh laugh. “You mean with great wealth comes the shackles of imprisonment.”

  “I’m sorry you see it that way.” A nerve ticked in Edward’s jaw. “I had hoped you would be pleased to be my son. Perhaps once you experience the advantages nobility can offer, the sacrifice won’t seem as great.”

  Nolan turned away, attempting to calm the blood pounding in his ears. Sacrificing Hannah was not an option—of that much he was certain. By all rights, he could refuse Edward and waive his birthright. Continue with his plan to become a farmer and marry Hannah.

  Yet hadn’t one of his greatest wishes since boyhood been to learn his father’s identity and establish some type of relationship? The opportunity had now been handed to him—by fate or by God, he didn’t know. Would he reject it outright without even trying?

  Nolan’s mind whirled faster than the wind in the outer courtyard. He needed time to come up with a strategy. Time to determine the best course of action. He schooled his features, then turned back to his father. “It seems you have left me little choice. For the time being, I will abide by your wishes.”

  Lord Stainsby looked like he was about to challenge Nolan’s statement but instead gave a slight bow. “Very well then. I will expect you to dine with me tonight, at which time I will introduce you to your sisters.”