A Most Noble Heir

by Susan Anne Mason

  “Hannah’s mother told me she might have come to see you.” He adjusted his jacket. “I need to speak with Hannah, please.”

  The woman turned to the butler who looked ready to pounce. “That will be all, thank you, Carstairs.” She gave a sweep of her arm. “Please come in, Mr. Price.”

  As much as he wanted to charge through the house until he found Hannah, Nolan had enough sense to realize the foolhardiness of that idea. Instead, he followed the duchess down a hall to a formal parlor. He entered the room, his pulse jumping in the hope of seeing Hannah seated there. The room, however, was empty.

  Impatience coursed through him. “Where is Hannah?” She must be here. Why else would the duchess have invited him in?

  In a calm manner, the woman crossed to one of the wingback chairs. “Please have a seat, Mr. Price. Can I get you some refreshment?”

  “No, thank you. I just want my wife.” Nolan clenched his hands at his side.

  “So you have said repeatedly. Right now Hannah is resting. While we wait for her to awaken, I think it’s a good idea for us to get to know each other better.” With a slight smile, she sank gracefully onto the chair.

  Nolan took a deep breath and forced the blood surging through his veins to slow down. He moved to the sofa and lowered himself onto the uncomfortable-looking piece of furniture. “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I don’t know what Hannah has told you, but I can assure you—”

  “First of all, I’d be pleased if you called me Aunt Iris. Second, Hannah has told me everything.”

  Nolan swallowed. “Everything?”

  “I believe so, yes.” She smoothed the hair from her forehead. “Now I’d like to hear the story from your point of view.”

  Though she smiled, Nolan sensed the underlying steel in her words.

  The clatter of feet in the hallway stalled his next words. Molly entered the parlor, followed not by Hannah, but by a large brown dog.

  Molly came to a halt when she saw him, her eyes lighting with pleasure. “Nolan. What a nice surprise.” She rushed to embrace him. “We are having such a lovely visit with Aunt Iris. This is her dog, Daisy. Isn’t she beautiful?”

  Despite his problems, Nolan couldn’t help but smile. The change in Molly since she’d left the farm had been remarkable. The quiet, reticent girl had blossomed into a happy, cheerful young woman. He bent to rub the dog’s head. “She is indeed a beauty. So you and Hannah are having a nice time?”

  She scrunched her nose. “I am. But Hannah’s been under the weather and a little sad. She’ll feel better now that you’re here.”

  Iris rose from her chair. “Molly dear, would you take Daisy into the kitchen for some water? She always gets thirsty after a long walk outside. And ask Cook for some sugar cookies while you’re there.”

  “Of course. Thank you, Auntie.” Molly called to the dog and led her out the door.

  Nolan whirled around. “What did Molly mean? Is Hannah ill?”

  The woman’s expression didn’t change, except for a slight flicker in her eyes. “She’s sick at heart more than anything. Come now, sit down and tell me all about your new life as the son of an earl.”

  A weight shifted on the bed, stirring Hannah from her light slumber. She blinked and stared up into Molly’s beaming face.

  “Wake up, sleepy. You have a visitor.” Molly’s laughter echoed off the walls.

  Hannah struggled to sit up, clutching the covers to her chin. “Nolan?” The word came out as a whisper.

  “Yes. He’s talking with Aunt Iris right now.”

  Hannah’s treacherous stomach rolled. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. She never dreamed he would find her here. What was she going to do now?

  Molly’s smile faded. “Why don’t you look happy to see him? I thought you loved him.”

  Hannah swallowed the lump in her throat. “I do love him, Molly. But it’s complicated. Nolan’s the son of an earl now, and I—I’m still a kitchen maid.”

  “I don’t see why that matters since you’re already married.”

  Hannah repressed a sigh. If only life could be that simple. “Did Aunt Iris send you to fetch me?”

  “No. I’m supposed to be having cookies in the kitchen, but I wanted to surprise you.”

  Hannah dropped a kiss on her sister’s head. “Thank you. You surely did surprise me. Now help me get up. I suppose I must go down and talk to him.”

  Ten minutes later, Hannah sent Molly to the kitchen and made her way on shaky legs down the main staircase. She paused in the corridor to take a deep breath, silently willing the nausea to leave her for a few minutes. Time enough to get this conversation over with and send Nolan on his way. One thing she knew for certain. She could never let Nolan suspect she was with child, for if he knew she was carrying his father’s heir, he would never leave her. And she would never be certain of his true motivation for being with her.

  Pasting on a false smile, she entered the parlor.

  Nolan bolted up from his seat on the sofa. “Hannah.”

  The torture in that one word almost brought Hannah to her knees. “Hello, Nolan.”

  He looked haggard, yet wonderful. Dark stubble hugged his jaw and smudges of purple shadowed his eyes. His dark hair, tousled like it had often looked when mucking out the stalls, fell over his forehead. It hurt to see the misery on his face, so she turned her attention to her aunt.

  “Aunt Iris, I see you’ve met Nolan.”

  “Yes, my dear. We were just getting acquainted. Won’t you join us?”

  “Of course.” Hannah chose a chair across from the sofa. Not sure how to proceed, she folded her hands in her lap and waited.

  Nolan faced her aunt. “May I speak to my wife in private, please?”

  A slight hesitation followed. “As long as you promise not to upset her.”

  Nolan nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Very well.” Iris smoothed her skirts as she rose. “Hannah, if you need me I’ll be next door in my sitting room.”

  Hannah fixed her gaze on the tapestry of the carpet until she heard the door click. Her heart beat a terrible rhythm in her chest as Nolan’s boots entered her line of vision. Then he knelt before her. An overwhelming urge to throw herself into his arms seized her, but she held herself as rigid as the legs of her chair to keep from making a complete fool of herself.

  She forced herself to recall that he had signed papers to annul their marriage.

  “Hannah, look at me.”

  She stared into the soft pinks and greens of the carpet, barely breathing.

  He captured her chin and gently forced her face level with his. “Why did you leave without so much as a word to me?”

  Her eyes met his and slid away. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “Of course not. Why would you think such a thing?”

  She looked up at him. “I saw you with all those fancy women in the ballroom, dancing and laughing . . .” Her throat tightened and she couldn’t go on. She shook her head as if to erase the taunting images. All those women vying for the attention and favor of her husband.

  “How? Were you there?”

  “I watched from the servants’ door.” She bit down on her bottom lip. She could not give in to her emotions now. She needed Nolan to give her answers without the influence of her tears.

  He huffed out a tired-sounding breath. “That was all an act, carefully rehearsed by my father on what to say and how to behave. Believe me, it was sheer torture having to endure that evening.”

  She forced herself to continue, to make him see what she had seen. “You looked so different, like a rich gentleman—one who belonged with those beautiful ladies. Not with a maid like me, someone who doesn’t matter.” Sadness gripped her hard and twisted. Here was the truth she’d always known. She would never be enough to matter to those she loved. By choice or by heavenly design, everyone left her. First her father died, then her mother abandoned her, now Nolan would leave her too.

  “You matter to me, Hannah.” His
dark brows plunged into a fierce frown. “I don’t want any of those silly, simpering women. I want a woman of substance. That’s why I fell in love with you. You’re everything I need . . . and more.”

  Her heart squeezed. How she longed to believe him. Yet she couldn’t forget the influence his father had over him. Couldn’t ignore the deep wounds she’d sustained.

  Not trusting herself to answer him, she remained silent.

  Nolan cringed at Hannah’s wounded expression. He placed one hand over her fingers that lay fisted in the material of her skirt and caressed the satin of her skin with his thumb.

  “I’ve neglected you these past few weeks. For that I am truly sorry. But you knew the conditions my father placed on me—the conditions I agreed to for your and Molly’s sake. I had to keep my word and stay away from you for the rest of the allotted time.”

  She raised her head, sudden anger snapping in her eyes. “Time enough for your father to convince you to annul our marriage, you mean.”

  His chest tightened, restricting his air. “Whatever gave you that impression?”

  “I heard your father talking to some man outside the ballroom. He said you’d signed the annulment papers—that you’d finally come around to his way of thinking and that once the papers were filed, the marriage would be over.”

  “I did no such—” Nolan rose in one quick jerk and slammed a fist into his palm. “I don’t believe it. He tricked me.” This was his father’s doing. He was certain.

  He paced the patterned carpet, one hand scrubbing his jaw. Then he turned abruptly and came to sit beside her. “I swear, Hannah, the only thing I signed were papers to change my name in order to become Edward’s heir. It was a large document and I didn’t read every page.” He paused. “It’s entirely possible he included a hidden clause.”

  Hannah’s lip trembled, and he knew what she was thinking—that they were no longer married.

  He gripped her upper arm. “I am your husband, Hannah. No piece of paper will change that. We swore vows before God—that is what matters.”

  Before she could respond, he pulled her mouth to his. Even though she remained rigid against him, he wrapped his arms around her, relieved that she was finally back where she belonged. He relished the familiar scent of her, the taste of her warm lips.

  Suddenly, she melted in his arms, her mouth responding to his, and he deepened the kiss. Nothing mattered except the sensation of touch. Her hair brushing his cheek. The velvet of her neck. Her soft lips.

  A groan rumbled up through his throat. “Come back with me, Hannah. I need you.”

  A tear trickled down her cheek, yet her eyes bore the familiar gleam of love he’d so missed. He wiped the wetness away with the pad of his thumb, amazed to find his own eyes damp.

  She opened her mouth to answer him, when a knock broke the silence.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting. May I come in?” Iris peeked around the door.

  Hannah didn’t know whether to cheer or cry. “Of course, Aunt Iris.” She pressed trembling fingers to her lips in an attempt to hide the evidence of their kiss.

  Nolan rose as her aunt came toward them.

  “Might I have a word with my niece now?”

  For a moment, Hannah thought Nolan might refuse her request, but good manners won out.

  “Certainly.” He gave a stiff bow and turned to give Hannah an intense look. “Remember what I said, Hannah. I meant every word.”

  A moment ago, overcome by passion, she’d been ready to go with him wherever he asked. But as his warm kisses faded, cold reality set in. She remained a mere kitchen maid, and he the son of an earl. Those facts would not change.

  “Did you tell him?” Iris asked pointedly the moment he’d gone.

  A flush heated Hannah’s cheeks. “I—I didn’t have the chance.”

  Iris leaned forward, her gray eyes earnest. “My dear girl, loath though I am to give advice, in this case I feel I must. No matter what mistakes your husband has made, he still has a right to know he is going to be a father.” She reached over to take one of Hannah’s hands in hers. “And as much as you might not care to hear it, this child comes from a great family line that he or she will have a right to be part of.”

  “The earl wouldn’t accept me before. He surely won’t now if our marriage has been annulled.”

  “Trust me, he’ll change his tune if he learns you are carrying Nolan’s child. Besides, other than a snippet of conversation, you have no evidence that an annulment has taken place.”

  Hannah pressed a shaking hand to her head, willing it to stop spinning. “Everything is happening too fast. I need time to think.” But how could she think with Nolan’s overwhelming presence swamping her senses? With everyone offering opinions from all sides?

  Iris exhaled softly. “Nothing will be solved if you remain here and Nolan returns to Stainsby. You must be near one another to achieve a solution.” She rose and paced across the room. At last, she turned, a determined expression on her face. “I believe I have an idea. I will accompany you and Molly back to Stainsby Hall. Perhaps I can be a mediator of sorts. An advocate on your behalf. After all, what good is my title if I cannot use it to help my niece?”

  “Aunt Iris, I could never impose on you like that.”

  “Nonsense. Daisy and I are in need of a new adventure, and this will do quite nicely.”

  Hannah shook her head miserably. “But what about the earl? What will he think if you arrive with no invitation or warning?”

  “As you may have already surmised, I pay little heed to social convention—sometimes to my own detriment.” Iris helped Hannah to her feet and winked. “As for the earl’s reaction, I imagine we’ll find out soon enough.”

  Why did that not make Hannah feel better at all?

  Chapter

  20

  Edward threw his hat and gloves onto a chair in the vestibule and yelled for his butler. “Dobson, where are you?”

  When there was no immediate response, Edward growled. Dash it all, where was that man when you needed him?

  Scurrying footsteps echoed in the hallway, and Dobson appeared. He bowed. “Here I am, my lord. What can I do for you?”

  “Has my son returned yet?”

  “As a matter of fact, he arrived not an hour ago.”

  “At last. Tell him to meet me in my study as soon as possible.”

  “But, sir—”

  “Just do it.”

  “Very good, sir.” Dobson bowed again and turned to climb the main staircase.

  Edward blasted out a breath of frustration. Why did it seem as though the entire universe was conspiring against him? Nothing lately had gone according to plan.

  But all that was about to change once he made it clear to Nolan how things stood.

  Edward stalked down the corridor toward his study, the slap of his heels on the floor giving vent to his foul mood. As he strode past the parlor door, a shrill of female laughter met his ears.

  Who in the blazes was that? Surely one of the maids wouldn’t dare make herself at home in his parlor.

  Edward stormed into the room. Someone had had the audacity to pull back the heavy drapes and let sunlight infuse the room. The sorry person responsible would get a tongue-lashing when he found them.

  Slight movement by the fireplace drew his eye to the right. Instead of the expected maid, a woman he’d never seen before rose from the chair. If he’d been of a calm demeanor, he might have been polite, but all he could focus on was the large canine at her feet.

  “Who the devil are you, and what manner of beast is this in my parlor?” Edward barked out the words before he had time to think.

  The woman arched a brow and stared at him. Then she took two steps across the carpet toward him, her feet not making a sound. The beast rose as well, emitting a low bark.

  “Good day, Lord Stainsby. I am the Duchess of Hartford. And this is my companion, Daisy.” She inclined her head with a smile.

  Egad, he’d just insulted a duchess. T
hrough the fog in his brain, Edward fought for clarity. The Duchess of Hartford. Had he met her before? Surely he would have remembered someone so striking. How had he failed to notice her regal bearing, the sweep of her chestnut hair, the smoothness of her complexion? “Forgive my bellow, Your Grace. Edward Fairchild at your service.” He bowed over her hand, trying to ignore the animal at her side, likely shedding on his carpet as he spoke.

  “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m in your parlor.” She laughed lightly.

  “The thought had occurred to me—yes.”

  “I am here to visit with my nieces, Hannah and Molly.”

  He blinked, still not comprehending.

  “I believe our families are connected in a somewhat loose fashion. Your son Nolan recently married my step-niece, Hannah Burnham.”

  His mouth dropped open. The kitchen maid had ties to the nobility? Impossible. “I-I’m afraid I’m at a loss for words.” The ramifications of this latest news jumbled his brain.

  Smiling, she moved forward and linked her arm through his. “Why don’t you join me for tea, and I’ll explain the whole story?”

  He looked down into eyes the color of dove feathers, speckled with gold, and found himself being led to his own sofa while his guest poured the tea. A long-forgotten sensation moved in his chest as he accepted the offered cup, and his conversation with Nolan no longer seemed nearly as important.

  In the second-floor corridor, Hannah waited as Nolan kicked open the door to his suite, his arms laden with her belongings. In three long strides, he crossed to the bedroom and dropped the load on the top of the great four-poster bed.

  Hannah hung back, biting her bottom lip. Why did this feel like she was committing some type of sin? She’d lived in this mansion for eight years, yet she’d never once been on this floor.

  Nolan poked his head outside the bedroom. “Why are you out there? Come inside.”

  She hesitated. “Maybe I should check on Aunt Iris.”

  “She’s fine. We left her with refreshments, and she knows where her room is in case she grows tired.”