A Most Noble Heir

by Susan Anne Mason

  Both men laughed and continued down the hall. Once they were out of sight, Hannah’s legs crumpled beneath her and she reached out to grasp the wall. Tears spilled unheeded down her cheeks.

  Her worst fears had come to fruition.

  Nolan had signed annulment papers, and soon their short-lived marriage would be over.

  Chapter

  17

  Nolan slept late the next morning. The dancing had gone on into the wee hours and, being the person of honor, it would have been rude to leave before the last guest had retired. Many of the earl’s friends were being put up in the Stainsby guest quarters in the west wing, which meant he would have to dine with them this morning.

  As he pushed himself out of bed, Nolan reflected on the success of the previous evening. Edward had appeared pleased at how well his peers had taken the unexpected news of his grown son. Even though they had treated Nolan with respect, he’d sensed a chilly reserve behind their eyes, as though they didn’t quite trust him. Edward had kept quiet the fact that Nolan had been a servant at the estate all these years, deeming it unnecessary information. And the guests had been too polite to question Nolan directly. What would they say when they learned he’d been a stable boy until now?

  He frowned as his valet helped him dress, dreading the necessity to entertain those people again today. He only hoped they’d all be on their way right after breakfast.

  Luck, however, was not on his side. About thirty guests planned to remain for another day and night, meaning Nolan would have to put off his reunion with Hannah a little longer. After breakfast, the earl met with Nolan to inform him of the day’s scheduled events, complete with a formal dinner and musical entertainment in the evening. Nolan sincerely hoped these extravagant social gatherings would not be expected too often. Once or twice a year would be more than enough for him.

  On the positive side, his father assured him that the fact that so many guests had stayed on was indeed a good sign that his peers had accepted Nolan’s given place in the family’s hierarchy.

  After an excruciating midday meal, during which every young woman present postured for his attention, Nolan sought out the peace and quiet of his father’s study. He doubted any of the women would dare follow him there.

  He’d just flopped into a chair by the hearth when the door opened and the light tap of female feet sounded. Nolan turned his head to see if perhaps a maid had come in to clean the room, only to find his two half-sisters hovering inside the doorway. As manners dictated, Nolan got to his feet and bowed. “Good afternoon, ladies.”

  Dressed in an outlandish velvet creation, Evelyn reminded Nolan of a large blue ostrich. Victoria, smaller in stature with light brown hair, wore a modest yellow gown. She always seemed rather intimidated by her older sister, remaining in the background as though she were somehow less important.

  Evelyn snapped her fan closed. “Good day, Mr. Price. My sister and I would like a word with you, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course. And please call me Nolan.” From her steely expression, he doubted she wished to congratulate him on the success of his first ball. He hadn’t seen his sisters since the night of their initial awkward introduction, after which time they’d returned to London.

  Nolan remained standing until the two women crossed the floor and took seats around the hearth. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” he asked.

  Victoria kept her gaze fixed on the fire before them, while Evelyn stared at him as though in silent challenge.

  “We want to know your intentions regarding our family.” Evelyn’s toe tapped against the carpet.

  He frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

  Evelyn rose and flicked open her fan. “This must all have come as a shock to you. A mere stable boy suddenly thrust into the world of the nobility.”

  “It is challenging, I won’t deny.” Nolan chose his words with care, as though avoiding a trap. “And it takes some getting used to.”

  Victoria continued to keep her eyes averted. Nolan waited to see where the conversation was headed.

  Evelyn whirled to face him, passion blazing. “You realize that your being heralded as our father’s heir has effectively ruined both our lives.” Her dark eyes shot daggers at him, all pretense at civility falling away.

  He expelled a long breath. Hostility veiled in politeness baffled him. Anger, however, he could deal with. He stood with quiet dignity, determined to keep calm. “Believe me, I have no intention of eclipsing you or Victoria from our father’s life. And I will always make sure you are well provided for.” It was the least he could do for them. Growing up, he’d always wished for siblings, but these women before him were strangers. It would take time to establish a relationship.

  “My husband is not at all pleased at this occurrence,” Evelyn snapped. “He married me with certain expectations. To have them yanked out from under him by a mere . . .” She clamped her mouth shut.

  “A mere stable hand.”

  She had the grace to flush.

  He stepped forward to meet her as an equal. “I’m sorry your husband is distressed over this development. However, I have no desire to yank anything from anyone. Surely it is better that the title goes to me rather than some distant relative with no vested interest in keeping harmony within the family. Or keeping the Fairchild holdings intact.”

  Victoria wrinkled her nose. “Didn’t Father tell you—”

  “Never mind that now, Victoria. There’ll be time enough to delve into the family lineage at a later date.” Evelyn pressed her thin lips together, her features pinched. She shot her sister a pointed look, one that held implied meaning.

  Family secrets?

  “I assure you both,” Nolan said, “I will do everything in my power to have the Fairchild assets distributed evenly.” He turned to Victoria. “Amongst all of us.”

  “But I don’t care a whit about the money.” Victoria threw out her hands, her features becoming animated. “All I care about is my beau, Sebastian Coverton. He was about to propose marriage, but ever since he learned about you, he hasn’t called on me in weeks.” She broke into sobs. “This scandal has ruined my chance to marry.”

  Nolan’s mouth fell open, unsure how to deal with such hysterics. Once again, he fell back to his training with horses—advance with caution, show no fear. He approached the distraught woman and passed her a handkerchief.

  She snatched it from him and blew her nose.

  “I’ll admit, I’m out of my element in the matter of suitors, but if I can help in any way, I’d be happy to do what I can.” His soothing tone had the desired effect, and her sobs subsided into sniffles. “Would it help if I met with the gentleman in question?”

  Victoria’s chin trembled, and before she could answer, Evelyn placed a territorial arm around her shoulder. “I should think not.”

  “Why not, Ev? It couldn’t hurt.” A light of hope glowed on Victoria’s face. “Maybe if Sebastian got to know Nolan, he’d realize there’s nothing to fear by marrying into the family, despite the circumstances surrounding Nolan’s birth.”

  “That sounds like a splendid idea.” Nolan gave her an encouraging smile. “Simply name the place and time, and I’ll be there.”

  Hannah glanced down at the crumpled piece of paper in her gloved hand as the coach bounced over the rough roads. Beside her, Molly took in the sights of Derby from the curtained window.

  “Hannah, look at all the grand ladies with their parasols.” She giggled, seeming in that moment to revert to the six-year-old girl Hannah remembered.

  “Yes,” Hannah murmured. “They’re lovely.”

  She returned her gaze to the paper in an attempt to quell her nerves, though right now anxiety was the only thing keeping her from wallowing in grief.

  After witnessing Nolan’s transformation at the ball, Hannah had spent the rest of the night sobbing into her pillow. At the break of dawn, with her emotions finally spent, she had come to a decision. She could not stay
at Stainsby and watch Nolan marry some beautiful heiress. The thought of seeing him with another woman, after she’d lain with him as his wife, was more than she could bear.

  In desperation, she’d found the note her mother had given her when they’d left Mr. Fielding’s, and Hannah had latched onto the one route of escape open to her.

  “Iris Hartford, the Duchess of Hartford, Hartford Hall, Derbyshire.” The name dredged up long-ago memories of a distant relative, a grand lady they’d seen sporadically over the years before Hannah’s father died. According to Mum’s note, she was her mother’s stepsister, a woman who had married well for her station in life, and who would be willing to give Hannah aid in time of crisis.

  Hannah swallowed. Was she being too presumptuous to arrive unannounced on this relative she hadn’t seen in years? She glanced over at Molly’s happy features and knew she had no other choice. Perhaps, at the very least, this woman could offer them employment in one of her homes. It was all Hannah dared hope for.

  The driver stopped at the center of town to ask for directions to the Hartford estate, and soon the carriage lurched into motion again. Hannah pressed a handkerchief to her nose to block the unpleasant odors, which, combined with the motion of the carriage, had turned her stomach sour. Once past the outskirts of the city, the landscape became greener and the air easier to breathe. Several miles of rolling countryside later, the driver turned through a stone gate onto a winding drive that led up to a residence that rivaled Stainsby Hall in grandeur. The ivy-covered brick dwelling loomed above them on a slight incline, like a sentinel standing guard. The carriage stopped in front of the main entrance, and the driver helped them alight.

  “Please wait for us until we’re sure the duchess is at home,” Hannah instructed.

  “Very good, miss.” The slight man bowed and stood at attention as Hannah and Molly walked to the front door.

  “What a beautiful house,” Molly exclaimed.

  She was so full of enthusiasm at this unexpected visit that Hannah hadn’t wanted to worry Molly with the real reason for this trip until she knew what to expect from their aunt. With trembling hands, Hannah knocked on the front door. Seconds later, a man, presumably the butler, opened the door.

  “May I help you?” The tall man peered at them over his spectacles.

  Hannah pulled herself up to her full height, willing a confidence she didn’t feel. “Good day. Is the Duchess of Hartford at home?”

  He frowned. “Whom shall I say is calling?”

  “Her nieces, Hannah and Molly Burnham.”

  He raised a brow, then bade them enter. They stepped into a spacious vestibule, tiled in white and black squares. While they waited for the man to return, Hannah scanned her surroundings. High ceilings with wide crown moldings and an enormous chandelier dominated the area. Green paneled walls led down two different hallways, one of which Hannah presumed led to the back of the house. Before them, a wide staircase curved upward.

  Hannah blinked. How was it that their mother led such a meager existence when her stepsister obviously enjoyed great prosperity? And why wouldn’t Mum have asked the duchess for help when she was widowed? Had she been too proud?

  As Molly gaped in awe at the splendor before them, Hannah checked her image in a large gilded mirror to ensure that no strands of hair had escaped her straw hat and that she looked presentable as a relative of such a wealthy woman.

  The sound of quick footsteps on the tiled floor brought Hannah whirling around. She grabbed Molly and pulled the girl to her side.

  A tall, willowy woman rushed into the vestibule, an expectant expression lighting her wide gray eyes. Dressed in a fashionable green skirt and high-necked blouse with her chestnut tresses coiled at the nape of her neck, she was indeed a striking woman. Hannah gauged her to be somewhere in her early forties.

  “Don’t tell me these are Ann’s two girls?” She clasped her hands in front of her like a youngster herself.

  Hannah dropped a slight curtsy. “How do you do, ma’am. I’m Hannah, and this is my sister, Molly.”

  The duchess gave a small laugh and rushed forward to envelop them in a hug.

  Hannah remained immobile, in shock over such enthusiasm. When her aunt pulled back, Hannah straightened her shawl. “I’m sorry to impose on you unannounced, but my mother said you might help us. Molly and I are in need of a place to stay temporarily.” Hannah ignored the puzzled frown on Molly’s face. “If it’s inconvenient, our driver is waiting out front. We can find lodgings in Derby.” She held her breath, hoping she wouldn’t have to use the last of her savings so quickly.

  Mock horror filled the woman’s eyes. “Absolutely not. I insist you stay with me.” She waved a hand, and the butler appeared from the shadows. “Carstairs, please collect the girls’ luggage and take care of the driver.”

  “Oh no. I can pay for the coach.” Hannah fumbled with her reticule, cheeks burning that her aunt might think she was angling for financial assistance.

  “Nonsense. Carstairs will handle it. Now come with me. You must be tired and thirsty after your journey.”

  Hannah bit back words of argument and motioned Molly to follow her down the hallway. Behind the duchess, they entered a sitting room, decorated in pinks and greens with floral cushions and vases of fresh-cut flowers. The soothing atmosphere instantly put Hannah’s nerves at ease. “What a lovely room.”

  “Why, thank you. My late husband never dared venture in here. Said it was far too feminine for his tastes. Which is exactly why I love it.” She indicated the green satin sofa. “Please have a seat.”

  It was then Hannah noticed the large dog lying on the carpet beside a wing chair. The animal raised its head and gave a swish of its tail.

  “This is Daisy. She’s a chocolate Labrador, a gift from my late husband, Edgar. She’s very gentle, so you needn’t worry about her.” The duchess bent to pat the dog’s head and its tail wagged harder.

  Hannah and Molly sat and removed their gloves. Within moments of her aunt pulling the bell cord, a maid appeared in the doorway.

  “We’ll take tea now with a plate of cucumber sandwiches and biscuits. Thank you, Maggie.”

  When the maid left, their aunt turned to them and smiled. “How is your dear mother these days? I’m afraid I’ve been remiss in keeping in touch.”

  “She was well the last time I saw her.” Hannah fidgeted with the cuff of her blouse. She longed to voice the questions circling her brain, but wasn’t sure how to begin.

  The duchess folded her hands in her lap. “You likely don’t remember me since I didn’t visit very often. The last time I came, you were still living at the rectory. Long before your dear father and brother had perished.”

  Hannah bit her lip and nodded. “I remember.”

  “I don’t,” Molly announced. “But then I’m much younger than Hannah.”

  The woman smiled. “I think you were only three at the time, Molly dear.”

  “If you’re our aunt, does that mean you’re Mum’s sister?”

  “Actually, I’m her stepsister.” She turned to Hannah. “Did your mother never tell you about her childhood?”

  “Not really. Mum rarely spoke about her family.” Hannah leaned forward, eager to learn more, thankful for Molly’s uninhibited ways. “I got the impression there was some type of falling-out with her parents.”

  Just then, the maid entered the room with a cart topped with a silver teapot, china cups and saucers, and a platter of sandwiches.

  “Please help yourself before I tell you the long, sad tale.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Molly darted forward to take a plate, while Hannah hung back.

  The duchess chuckled. “And please, you must call me Aunt Iris. Ma’am makes me feel so old.”

  Hannah’s tense muscles began to relax. She’d pictured her aunt as an austere older woman with little sense of humor. What a refreshing difference her aunt was proving to be. Hannah chose two small sandwiches and a biscuit while her aunt poured the tea.
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  “Now where were we?” Aunt Iris asked, teacup in hand. “Oh, yes. You probably don’t know this, but your mother and I grew up together.”

  Hannah swallowed a bite of sandwich. “Really?”

  “That’s right. Ann’s mother, your grandmother, married my father, Sir Arthur Templeton. Father was a baron, a widower with my brother, Ronald, and me to care for. Ann and her mother moved in with us, and I was delighted to have a little sister to play with.”

  Hannah frowned. “Then why have I never heard of this?”

  “When Ann was eighteen, she met your father, George Burnham, a penniless curate. Father refused to consider his offer of marriage, deeming him too far beneath our family socially. I was already married to Edgar by then and didn’t realize how serious things had become until I learned that Ann had run off with George. My father, in turn, disowned her.” She set her cup on the tiny table beside her with a sigh. “I always wondered whether I could have changed the outcome of the situation if I’d been around. Perhaps tempered my father’s reaction.”

  Hannah sipped her tea, trying to imagine her mother and father entering marriage in such a fashion. Not unlike her own, in some respects.

  “Even though Father forbade us to have any contact with Ann, I managed to keep in touch on and off. I never was very good at following the rules.” She winked at Hannah. “Unfortunately, at the time your father passed away, I was laid up with an illness that lasted the better part of a year. By the time I caught up with Ann again, she’d married Mr. Fielding.”

  Hannah clenched her teacup. If her aunt had known of their dire circumstances, how different might their lives have been?

  Iris rose to refill the cups. Despite Hannah’s warning glare, Molly helped herself to several more sandwiches. “Molly, mind your manners.”

  “No, please. Eat as much as you’d like. I don’t stand on ceremony.” Iris reclaimed her seat across from the sofa. “Now, why don’t you tell me why you’ve come?”

  Though her tone was soft and hinted at sympathy, Hannah found the complicated turn of recent events left her tongue-tied. She’d left Stainsby Hall so quickly, she’d barely had time to think. All she knew was that she had to leave before Nolan found her. She couldn’t bear to listen to his false explanations. The very thought of his conspiring with the earl to end their marriage brought tears to her eyes.