A Most Noble Heir

by Susan Anne Mason

  Chapter

  7

  Standing at the parlor’s service cart, Edward poured an inch of whiskey into a crystal tumbler and took a stiff drink before he turned to face his family. As with most unpleasant tasks in life, he found it best to get on with it as quickly as possible and deal with the consequences afterward.

  His youngest daughter sat on the sofa, a book of poetry on her lap. The dreamer in the family, Victoria seemed oblivious to the underlying tension in the room. Evelyn, on the other hand, perched on the very edge of her seat, and though still classified as a newlywed, she paid not the slightest attention to her husband. Orville stood apart from them, absently swirling the cocktail in his glass.

  Evelyn rose to cross the floor. Dressed in a garish dress of red and gold, she reminded Edward of a Christmas tablecloth. “Tell me, Father, is there more to this visit than our former housekeeper’s funeral? Because for the life of me, I can’t see why you’d insist we attend. You’ve never given a whit about a servant’s death before.”

  Edward should have known Evelyn would suspect something. Nothing much escaped her keen notice. “As a matter of fact, there is. I have some rather important news to impart to all of you.”

  Orville’s gaze snapped to Edward. “What is this about?”

  Edward stilled, conscious of the blow he was about to deal this man. Though immensely relieved that Orville would not be able to ruin the Fairchild’s assets in the future, Edward didn’t quite trust what Orville’s reaction might be to this news. He made a mental note to speak to Mr. Grayson about curbing Evelyn’s allowance, as well as taking steps to ensure Orville’s debts be contained.

  “Please take your seats, and I’ll explain everything.” Edward took another sip of liquid courage and set the glass on the mantel. “Prior to her death, Mrs. Price asked to speak with me and made a startling revelation, which I’ll admit has shaken me more than a little.”

  “Whatever could a housekeeper say to startle you, Father?” Victoria closed her book, a curious expression lighting her face.

  In contrast to Victoria’s endearing naïveté, a scowl creased Evelyn’s brow, emphasizing her sharp features. Orville stood behind the sofa, shoulders stiff, as though ready for battle.

  “Before I continue,” Edward said, “I must tell you something of my past.” Nerves dampened his palms. How he hated dredging up the folly of his youth, especially in front of his daughters. “When I was young—before I wed your mother—I was married to someone else for a brief period of time.”

  Evelyn eyed him with suspicion. “We’ve heard rumors to that effect. Aunt Ophelia admitted there was an elopement, but not much else. Except to say that the girl died, and then you married Mother.”

  “That much is true. However, Ophelia left out some rather pertinent details.” He took a breath and then as succinctly as possible relayed the details of his short-lived relationship with Mary Breckinridge. “Until a few days ago, I believed the child Mary carried had died with her. Mrs. Price, as it turns out, was Mary’s sister. She helped deliver the baby, who in fact survived, and she then raised the boy as her own.”

  The color drained from Orville’s already pasty face. He clutched the back of the sofa. “You have a son?”

  “It appears so.”

  Evelyn jerked to her feet, eyes wide as she apparently put two and two together. “The stable boy is your son?” She thrust out a hand. “Surely you don’t believe a servant’s lies.”

  “I’m not a fool, Evelyn. Of course I verified her story. I saw the entry in the church register with my own eyes. Spoke to the clergyman who knew the family and who performed the baptism. There is no doubt about the boy’s parentage.”

  “Then why didn’t she come forward long ago? Why wait until she was dying?” Evelyn’s voice grew to a screech. “It’s . . . it’s preposterous.” She flailed a hand in her husband’s direction. “Orville, do something. Defend your position.”

  Orville squared his shoulders. Patches of red stood out on his thin cheeks. “If your father was legally married to the woman at the time the child was born, there’s nothing to be done. Price is the heir apparent.”

  Edward almost felt sorry for the chap. To have his future snatched out from under him in such a manner . . .

  “But—but—” Evelyn whipped her attention back to Edward. “How can you possibly expect someone like that to become your heir? He knows nothing of the aristocracy.”

  “He will have to learn,” Edward said calmly.

  Victoria rose, her hands clasped together. “What if he doesn’t want the title?” she asked.

  “Are you daft?” Evelyn’s features twisted in a most unladylike fashion. “What peasant would turn down a life of luxury? Why, he’s probably packing his belongings as we speak.”

  Edward ran a hand over his jaw and suppressed an oath. He’d expected surprise, shock, anger even. But he’d forgotten about Evelyn’s mean streak and her predisposition to melodrama.

  “Does Price know he’s your son?” Orville came around the sofa. Though pale, his eyes held a steely quality.

  “He does. And he’s as shocked as all of us.” Edward raised a hand and let it fall. “I’m sorry, Orville. This is a rather unfortunate turn of events for you.”

  “Save your false sympathy,” Orville said coldly. “I know you were never thrilled to have me as your heir. Looks like the fates took pity on you and gave you the son you wanted after all.”

  Edward couldn’t deny the truth to his statement, so he remained silent.

  Evelyn moved between them. “You never answered my question, Father. Why did Mrs. Price keep it a secret all these years?”

  Why indeed? Edward still didn’t understand her reasoning. “At first, she kept silent to honor her sister’s dying request. But as the boy grew older and began asking questions, Mrs. Price came here in order to assess my character before deciding whether to reveal his parentage. Apparently, she found me lacking in several key areas, and for that reason, kept her secret.”

  “I’m sorry, Father.” Victoria laid a hand on his arm. “You must be angry that she denied you your son all this time.” Sympathy swam in her eyes.

  Along with being a dreamer, Victoria was by far the most compassionate member of his family.

  He shrugged. “There’s nothing to be gained by dwelling on things we cannot change. What we need to do now is move forward, and to that end, I’ve asked Nolan to dine with us this evening.”

  “What?” Evelyn’s eyes became twice their usual size. “That’s absurd. I will not share a meal with a stable hand.”

  Edward’s patience came to an abrupt end. “Not only will you eat with him, you will treat him with respect. Like it or not, he is your brother and a member of this family. It is our job to help him acclimate to his new role.” He swung his gaze to Orville, then Victoria, and back to Evelyn. “Do I make myself clear?”

  “Perfectly.” Evelyn practically hissed the word. “But don’t expect me to like it.”

  As Evelyn stomped to the far side of the room, Edward clamped his lips together. If he were a religious man, he’d pray for the strength to get through this upcoming meal with his sanity intact.

  Nolan stepped away from the angry voices coming from the open parlor door and leaned against the corridor wall. His heart thudded painfully against his ribs. He’d only caught the tail end of the conversation, but that was enough to determine that things were not going well. He’d accepted that his siblings would likely not be happy about the news of his existence, but he’d never expected such blatant hostility. The hatred spewing from the older girl nearly knocked his feet from beneath him.

  Lord, I don’t know how much more I can take. First my mother and now this? What is it you want from me?

  He took in a long breath and blew it out. Apparently he hadn’t given the earl enough time to break the news to his family. Should he return to the barn and come back later? The temptation to scurry back to his quarters burned hotly in his chest. But he was
no coward. He would do his best to face this lion’s den or die trying.

  Nolan tugged his brown tweed vest in place. He’d donned his best Sunday suit for the occasion, though he doubted anyone would notice. With a final deep breath, he stepped through the door. “Good evening, everyone.”

  All heads swiveled in his direction. Nolan got a brief impression of masculine furnishings and dark wood décor. The pleasant smell of pine logs and pipe tobacco scented the area, and though a fire roared in the hearth, a definite chill invaded the room.

  “Nolan. Come in.” The earl came forward, lines bracketing his mouth.

  After the snippet of conversation Nolan had overheard, it was no wonder the man was tense.

  “I hope I’m not early.”

  “Not at all. Allow me to formally introduce you to your sisters.” He gestured to the taller of the two women, dressed in a vivid red and gold gown. “This is my eldest daughter, Evelyn. Evelyn, this is Nolan.”

  She stared at him, unsmiling. “We have met the stable hand before, Father.”

  The earl whipped around to glare at her. “Not as your brother, you haven’t. Now kindly greet him properly.”

  Since Nolan had no idea what a proper greeting entailed, he remained still, awaiting his cue to react.

  She dipped a small curtsy. “How do you do?” The words were ground out between clenched teeth.

  He gave a bow. “A pleasure to meet you, Evelyn.”

  “And this is Evelyn’s husband, Orville Fairchild. Orville is a third cousin, which is why he shares the same last name.”

  Nolan hesitated. Did he offer a hand to shake?

  Orville merely inclined his head.

  “I guess that makes us distant cousins as well,” Nolan said.

  “So it would appear.” The hardness of Orville’s stare did nothing to make Nolan feel welcome.

  Edward stepped forward. “And this is my youngest daughter, Victoria.”

  Nolan turned his attention to the other woman. She was indeed an attractive girl, much more so than her sister, with soft brown curls and luminous amber eyes. Nolan guessed her to be about eighteen.

  She came toward him with a tentative smile. “Welcome, Nolan. It’s a great shock to learn we have an older brother. But I’m sure I’ll get used to the idea soon enough.”

  He smiled in return and bowed. “Thank you, Victoria. Since I am unused to having siblings, I shall ask for your patience as I grow accustomed to the situation.”

  “As long as you grant me the same concession.” She gave a light laugh.

  The tightness in his chest loosened a notch. Perhaps one of his sisters didn’t hate him after all.

  The butler appeared in the doorway. “Dinner is served, my lord.”

  “Thank you, Dobson. Shall we adjourn to the dining room?” Edward gestured for the women to precede him into the hall.

  They passed by in a whirl of silk and lavender. Orville stomped out after them.

  Edward lifted a brow. “I hope you’re made of sturdy stuff, Nolan. You’ll need it for tonight.”

  The air whooshed from his lungs. “Indeed, I believe I shall.”

  Chapter

  8

  Hannah sat on the side of the bed, her Bible open on her lap. The candle on her table flickered, casting restless shadows on the walls. Outside, the incessant cascade of rain on the windows seemed in keeping with her mood. If only she could concentrate on the words before her, they might bring her a measure of comfort. But her agitated state made concentration impossible.

  She hadn’t seen Nolan since the earl had summoned him away from the funeral reception. He’d indicated they would talk later, and she’d expected him to come down to the kitchen after his meeting, but he never appeared. Not even to take his dinner with the rest of the servants.

  Now, sometime after midnight, Hannah tried to imagine what could have happened. She didn’t have to be a scholar to know that Lord Stainsby would expect great changes in Nolan’s life. That as the earl’s son he would no longer be allowed to associate with the servants, nor live in the stable.

  Would the newness of the situation cause Nolan to set aside his own plans for the future to please his father?

  The selfish part of her hoped he would choose a life with her over his noble roots. But would that really be fair to him?

  She sighed, laid the Bible back on the table, and crossed the room to the plain wooden dresser where she picked up her hairbrush. Perhaps the soothing strokes would help calm her nerves. Hannah sat back on the thin mattress and loosened her braids until her hair fell in waves to her waist. As she brushed the silken strands, her thoughts turned to Molly. How Hannah used to love to comb her baby sister’s blonde curls when she was young. Did Molly even remember that now?

  It had been several years since Hannah had traveled to her mother’s farmhouse. The last trip had been a disaster, and she hadn’t had the courage to repeat it since. Her mother’s husband had made her feel most unwelcome, and Mum had flitted around trying to placate him. In addition, when it was time for Hannah to leave, Molly had begged to come with her, and that more than anything had broken her heart.

  A flash of guilt surfaced. In all the upheaval with Nolan, she hadn’t had much time to dwell on Molly’s predicament. With Nolan’s whole future hanging in the balance, it didn’t seem fair to remind him about his promise to help her sister. Even before any mention of Molly’s upcoming betrothal, they had talked about bringing her to live on the farm with them. But if Nolan now chose to forfeit the purchase, Hannah would have to come up with another solution for her sister.

  A sharp knock sounded at her door.

  She jumped, and the brush slipped from her fingers. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me,” a familiar voice whispered.

  Nolan? What on earth was he doing here at this late hour?

  “Just a minute.” Hannah grabbed her robe off the hook on the door and quickly wrapped it around her. Nerves skittered along her spine. If anyone found Nolan here on the third floor, in the female quarters no less, they would both be in the worst kind of trouble. Going to see Nolan in the barn hadn’t felt half this risky.

  She inched the door open with only the smallest of creaks.

  Nolan stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

  The room seemed to shrink with the breadth of Nolan’s shoulders taking up most of the space. She clutched the neckline of her robe and stepped back. “Nolan, you shouldn’t be here.”

  “Forgive me, Hannah, but I had to speak with you. I waited until I thought everyone would be abed for the night and snuck in the back door.” He scanned her from the top of her head to her bare feet, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. When his eyes met hers, they held a hint of wildness that unnerved Hannah.

  “Where have you been? You missed the evening meal.”

  Her question snapped him out of his trance. “Sit down, love. You’re trembling.”

  Her knees were indeed shaking. Not daring to sit on the bed, she perched on the wooden chair in the corner. Hands clutched together on her lap, she waited for Nolan to explain himself.

  For several moments, he paced the tight area. “When are you next free for a day or two?”

  Her mouth fell open at the unexpected question. “I—I have a few days owing to me. I hadn’t planned when to take them.”

  “Can you tell Mrs. Bridges you need them as soon as possible? Say that you’re worried about your sister and wish to make the trip to see her.”

  The urgency in his voice created spasms in her stomach. “Why? What is this about?”

  Nolan’s behavior was not at all in keeping with his usual calm demeanor. Her unease must have shown, for he bent one knee on the floor before her and took her hand in his. “You deserve so much better than this, Hannah. I promise I will make it up to you.”

  Her throat constricted. Had his father forbidden them to be together? Was he telling her good-bye?

  “Hannah, I love you, and I cannot picture
my life without you.” His intense blue eyes bore into her. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  She gasped. A thousand thoughts swirled through her brain, fighting for a foothold. On all the occasions she’d hoped he’d reveal his heart, this time she was not prepared. “What about Lord Stainsby?”

  “This has nothing to do with him.” He scowled, but then let out a sigh. “I had planned to propose the night I made the deal with Mr. Simpson. But circumstances with my mother intervened.” He caressed her hand with his thumb, his eyes softening. “So I’m asking you now. Will you marry me, Hannah?”

  A few days ago, she would have answered without hesitation. But after everything that had happened and all the uncertainty between them, she needed reassurance. “I’ll not give my answer until you tell me what went on between you and the earl.”

  His clenched jaw told her more than his words ever could.

  “Nolan, did his lordship acknowledge you as his son?”

  “Yes.” He pushed to his feet.

  Hannah’s stomach sank. Of course the man would be thrilled to have a legitimate son and heir—even if he was a stable boy.

  “He told me about my . . . about the woman who bore me, how he’d married her against his family’s wishes. That she’d run away, and he’d tried to find her, only to learn of her death. And mine—or so he thought.” He shook his head. “He seemed to genuinely care for her. That, at least, is a comfort.”

  She rose to face him. “What else did he say?”

  His gaze slid to the floor. “He invited me to dine with the rest of the family. That’s where I’ve been for most of the evening.”

  Hannah covered her mouth with her hand. She couldn’t imagine Nolan eating in the grand dining room with the earl’s family. “You met your sisters? How did that go?”

  “It was an awkward affair, to say the least. Victoria was gracious, but Evelyn and her husband clearly resent my existence.” Nolan’s features hardened as he gripped the metal foot rail of her bed. “Not unexpected, I suppose. But neither they, nor the earl, will dictate my life. Which leads me back to my proposal.” The tension eased from his face as he moved toward her. “I want to marry you, Hannah. And start our lives together, whether it be on our own farm as we’d planned, or as part of the aristocracy if I decide to accept my title.”