“Scowl at me all you want. It won’t do you any good. For I know under all that bluster is a wounded heart—one that needs healing in more ways than one. I pray that getting to know your son will help in some small measure.” She paused as if for emphasis. “Make good use of this time, Edward. And I hope one day we will meet again.” She inclined her head and then turned back to her dog, who lay obediently on the carpet. “Come, Daisy. It’s time to go home.”
Dressed only in a waistcoat and shirtsleeves, Nolan shivered in the cool morning breeze as he watched the bags being hoisted on top of the Hartford carriage. Coal-gray clouds scurried across the sky, spraying the earth below with a fine mist. He focused his attention on the liverymen and the horses, on the gilded frame of the coach—anything to keep from dwelling on the fact that Hannah was leaving him.
The very thought sent spasms through his chest akin to heart failure. He supposed in a way it was fitting—for without her, his heart would surely cease to work.
The front door opened, and Molly and Daisy emerged. The dog bounded down the steps as though recognizing that the carriage meant she was going home. Then Hannah and Lady Hartford came out and descended the stairs.
Nolan’s eyes locked onto Hannah, and he couldn’t look away. She looked beautiful in her modest traveling gown. No queen could have looked grander. Her gloved hands clutched her skirts until she reached the ground, where she let them fall back into place. When her eyes met his, she stopped and stared.
Time seemed suspended as Nolan searched for something to say, some reason to keep her from going. If only he could fall to his knees and beg her to stay. But pride stiffened his spine, and he did nothing.
A subdued Molly bid Nolan good-bye and led Daisy into the carriage.
Lady Hartford came forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Farewell, Nolan, until we meet again.”
“And you, Your Grace. Take good care of Hannah for me.”
“You know I shall.” She gave him a thin smile, then boarded the carriage, seemingly to give him a private moment with Hannah.
He turned his attention to his wife, intent on memorizing every detail to store away for the months ahead. The cream of her skin, the pale tendrils of hair that curled down from her hat, the quiet dignity that was now part of her bearing. She’d changed from the timid servant girl he’d loved for so long, and now walked with the grace and self-assuredness of her own worth—a woman of quality.
She came slowly toward him. “Good-bye, Nolan.” The words were a whisper, swallowed by the wind.
He shook his head. “I’ll not say good-bye to you, Hannah. I’ll only say Godspeed until we see each other again.”
Tears stood out in her green eyes, mocking her outward composure.
He longed to reach out and touch her, but he dared not, fearing he could never let her go. “If you change your mind, I’ll be here.” It was as close as he could come to asking her to stay.
“I know, but I truly believe this is necessary if we’ve any chance of a future together.” Her lips trembled. “Godspeed, Nolan.” She hesitated, as though waiting for him to say something more, and when he did not, she moved toward the carriage. But once at the door, she turned and rushed back to him. Reaching up on her tiptoes, she laid her cool lips on his.
With a low moan, he grabbed her to him, claiming her in a fierce kiss.
A kiss he hoped she’d remember for a long time to come.
Her tears dampened his cheeks, and when he finally let her loose, she took a step back. “Do you remember what you said to me on our wedding day? That we would pray together every night?”
His throat constricted at the memory of those few idyllic days. “Aye, I remember.”
“Will you promise to continue to pray every night? So that when I say my prayers, I can picture you doing the same, and in some small way, I will feel we’re still connected?” More tears flooded her lashes and rolled down her cheeks.
He clutched her to his chest once again. “I promise,” he whispered, the wisps of her hair teasing his chin.
“I love you, Nolan. Take good care of yourself.”
He wanted to say he loved her too, more than anything, but the words got tangled up with his sorrow and lodged in his throat. He helped her into the carriage, and the footman closed the door with a loud click.
Amid a swirl of wind-tossed leaves, the driver whipped the horses into motion, and the coach sped off.
Nolan stood watching the road long after the carriage was out of sight and long after the rain had washed away his tears.
Chapter
25
Hartford Hall was as grand as Hannah remembered. Yet she arrived for the second time with dread roiling in her stomach. Once again, she had left Nolan behind to flee to the haven of this estate. She bit her lip to contain her emotions as she entered the vestibule. She’d made her choice, and now she would abide by her decision without giving in to constant tears.
“Welcome home, Your Grace.” The butler greeted her aunt with a bow.
“Thank you, Carstairs. It’s good to be home. Isn’t it, Daisy?”
The dog’s nails skittered on the tile floor as she bounded in beside Molly, wagging her tail.
Iris reached up to remove her plumed hat. “I trust everything has been fine while I was away?”
“Yes, ma’am. Although very quiet.” He took her hat and gave another bow.
“No word from the duke?” Iris examined her reflection in the large gilded mirror, patting her hair into place.
“I believe there may be some correspondence from His Grace in the post that arrived during your absence.”
“Very well. Bring it to my sitting room. We’ll take our refreshments there.”
The trip had taken more out of Hannah than she expected. Huffing out a weary sigh, she removed her hat, and she and Molly followed Iris into the sitting room. The room’s soothing quality soon smoothed Hannah’s frazzled edges. She lowered herself to the settee beside her sister, while Iris took a seat behind her spindled desk.
Carstairs arrived with a stack of letters, which he set down with a flourish. “The maid will be in shortly with the tea.”
“Thank you.” Iris took out a pair of spectacles and proceeded to sort through the post.
“Who is the duke you referred to?” Hannah asked once she was comfortable with a pillow behind her back.
Iris looked up. “My husband’s uncle, Alistair. Being the only male relative at the time of Edgar’s death, he was named heir. But Alistair is quite elderly now and in poor health. He never really wanted the responsibility of the dukedom and has always allowed me to run Edgar’s properties as I wish. I do consult with him from time to time when in need of advice. He and Edgar’s solicitor have been a great help to me.”
Hannah was only beginning to understand the weight of such responsibilities. “You mentioned another property in the city?”
“Yes, in London. I never did care for that house. Old and drafty. And very noisy. I much prefer it here. I only go to London when absolutely necessary.”
“I had no idea what it took to be a noblewoman,” Hannah said. “It gives me a better understanding of what Nolan must be going through.”
“Nolan is a bright boy. He’ll pick it all up in no time, I’m sure.” Iris returned her attention to the pile of letters. “Look here. It seems your mother has written to me.”
“A letter from Mum?” Molly perked up faster than a newly watered plant.
Hannah had almost forgotten how attached her sister had been to their mother and how difficult it must be for her to be away from her.
Iris opened the envelope and removed the contents. “Yes, and there’s a note inside addressed to you.” She held out the paper for Molly, who rushed over to take it and then went to the window seat to read.
Hannah straightened on the sofa. “I hope everything is all right.”
“Most likely your mother is asking after you.” As Iris unfolded the page, the maid arrived with the
tea. “Thank you, Maggie. Leave the cart and I shall pour.”
The girl nodded once and retreated.
Scanning the letter, Iris came over to sit beside Hannah. “I was right. Ann was concerned for your well-being after Nolan arrived at the farm looking for you. She hoped you were well and that you had forgiven Nolan for his neglect.”
Hannah frowned. “Why would she think Nolan neglected me?”
“Perhaps Nolan told her so when he was there. In any case, I will answer this straightaway and put her mind at ease.” She looked at Hannah. “Unless you wish to do so.”
“No. You go ahead.” Hannah glanced at her sister on the plush window seat. “You must let her know that Molly is doing well. She will be worried about her.”
“I’m sure Ann worries about both her daughters.” Iris poured the tea and handed a cup to Hannah.
“Not really. Mum was more than happy to leave me at Stainsby Hall so she didn’t have to trouble her new husband with my presence.” Hannah lowered her voice so Molly wouldn’t hear. “I often wonder what Mum would have done if Molly had been older and in better health.” Hannah couldn’t hide the wistfulness of her tone. Shame burned at her jealousy of her own sister, and she vowed to beg the Lord’s forgiveness during her nightly prayers.
Iris sipped her tea, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I would dearly love to see Ann again. It has been too many years. And what better time for a visit than when both her girls are here? I shall issue an open invitation in my letter.”
Hannah slumped against the cushions. She so wanted Hartford Hall to be a haven during her pregnancy. To have her mother here would surely disturb her peace of mind. “I doubt she will come. Mr. Fielding always requires her help with the house and the farm work.”
“Perhaps once the winter is upon us and the workload lessens, we can persuade her to come. I’ll send my carriage for her so it won’t be a hardship.”
Hannah sighed. A visit from her mother would certainly be a hardship for her, but if she were lucky, and her mother followed her usual pattern of behavior, nothing would come of the invitation. Best not to worry about something that likely wouldn’t happen.
Molly bounced up from her seat. “Mum says that Mr. Fielding’s daughter, Matilda, has broken off her engagement to the milliner. So now Mr. Elliott is going to marry her.” Molly laughed out loud. “Mr. Fielding got what he wanted after all.”
Hannah smiled. “I hope poor Matilda is happier than you were at the prospect.”
“I hope so too. At least I’m not there to listen to her whine. Matilda is not a very cheerful person. Every night in our room, I’d have to listen to her complain about something.”
Hannah reached out a hand to her sister, remorse arising anew at her petty jealousy over the years. “I’m so glad we got you away from that place, Molly. I don’t know what God has in store for our future, but together I know we can face anything.”
Nolan entered the drawing room of his father’s London townhome and once again admired the ornate furnishings and gilded walls. Fairchild Manor was every bit as grand as Stainsby Hall, only on a much smaller scale. Though Nolan favored the manor’s cozier rooms, he did not like the setting. The city offered far too much noise and commotion for his taste.
This was his second trip into London since he’d learned he was Edward’s son, and this time, he felt only slightly more at ease. The fact that Aunt Ophelia had not exactly welcomed him into the family had made his initial stay in London awkward and uncomfortable. Nolan hoped she’d had time to come to terms with the new addition to the Fairchild family.
Especially now that he’d decided to follow Hannah’s advice and turn his full energy toward becoming the nobleman’s son.
“Ophelia,” Edward said. “Good to see you again.”
“Edward.” The tall, thin woman rose from the brocade settee where she had obviously been reading a letter. She offered her cheek for Edward to buss. “A second visit in almost as many months. To what do I owe this honor?” Her cold stare shifted to Nolan and back to her brother.
“I should think that would be obvious. I am continuing my son’s instruction in the ways of the nobility and plan to show him around our holdings in the city.” He stiffened and turned to Nolan. “I don’t believe you’ve greeted your aunt properly, Nolan.”
Nolan moved forward to bow over Ophelia’s hand. “Forgive me, Aunt Ophelia. I hope you are well.”
“Quite well, thank you.” She turned to her brother. “How long do you plan to stay in town?”
“I’m not sure. A week, perhaps two. I’d like Nolan to get better acquainted with his sisters. And with you, of course.”
Nolan had also hoped to meet with Mr. Grayson and see if Edward was telling the truth about the matter of his annulment being revoked, but Edward believed the man to be away on business.
Ophelia resumed her seat, and the men each chose a chair.
“You just missed Victoria. She’s gone on an outing with her beau.”
“Ah, the elusive Mr. Coverton. I take it he’s gotten over his objections with the family since our last visit.”
Nolan held his breath, recalling the initial hostility Sebastian Coverton had shown him. But once Nolan had assured the man of his good intentions regarding his sisters, Sebastian had let down his guard. He seemed genuinely fond of Victoria, though nowhere near as smitten as she. Nolan only hoped that their courtship had resumed its natural course.
Ophelia speared a haughty look at Nolan. “It appears Mr. Price’s introduction allayed Mr. Coverton’s concerns. Though there still has been no hint at a betrothal.”
“Come, now, Ophelia. Surely you’re in no rush for Victoria to marry, since you’d be all alone here, save the servants.”
She frowned. “Not necessarily. Victoria plans to have her husband move in here once they are wed. I have plenty of room and would welcome a man around the house.” Her arched look at Edward challenged him to disagree.
“I have given you free rein with the property, so I suppose I will have to trust your judgment on the matter. As long as the pup doesn’t overstep his bounds and try to take over your place as head of the household.”
“You know I’d never allow that.” Ophelia smoothed her skirts. “Would you care for some refreshments?”
“Not I.” Nolan was quick to respond. “I’d like to go to my room for a rest before dinner, if no one minds.”
The earl threw him a quick glance. “Certainly. It will give me a chance to catch up with my sister.”
Ophelia nodded. “Have the butler bring up your bag. I’ve given you the same room as last time.”
“Thank you.” Nolan bowed to them both as he exited the room, glad for a reprieve from his aunt’s stern countenance. Would she ever forgive him for the manner of his birth?
After a brief rest atop the high four-poster bed, Nolan changed into more formal dinner attire and made his way downstairs. At the parlor door, he paused to gather his wits before enduring his aunt’s frosty reception once again. During his time upstairs, he’d come to a decision: he would do his best during his stay to win over the austere woman.
Perhaps Victoria would be home for dinner. Of all his new relatives, Nolan had developed a genuine fondness for his youngest sister. She had been the most willing to accept him into the family, and maybe her example would soften his aunt. Even the presence of Sebastian at the table would be a welcome distraction. Nolan was sure if he got to know the man better, the two could become friends.
Voices drifted out into the hallway, causing Nolan to pause with his hand on the parlor’s ornate doorknob.
“Could you please try to be nicer to my son?” His father’s voice whined like a badly tuned violin.
“You expect me to welcome the product of your youth’s folly into my home? If it wasn’t for your gross misstep, I wouldn’t have ended up a spinster who is subject to your whims.”
“You still blame me for your idiot beau’s fickleness?” Contempt dripped from his
voice.
“And you still bear no responsibility for ruining the family name? If not for your elopement with a servant, Albert would have proposed as he intended, and my life would be completely different. I would be the Duchess of Milford.”
Nolan inhaled as he tried to make sense of the conversation.
His father grunted. “Have you seen Milford lately? It seems I saved you from a life of servitude to a man who indulges his every whim. He’s had two wives and at least a dozen mistresses, if the rumor mills are true.”
“That’s only because he’s unhappy. Separated from his one true love.”
A snort sounded. “True love, my eye.”
Nolan pushed into the room. “Good evening. I hope I’m not late.”
“Not at all,” his father said smoothly. “We’re still awaiting Victoria. Will you join me in some wine?”
“No, thank you.” He gave his father an irritated glance. Edward knew Nolan did not indulge in spirits.
He crossed to the settee to sit beside his aunt. “How are you this evening, Aunt Ophelia? I hope our unexpected arrival has not put you out.”
One brow rose. “Not at all. I welcome the company after such a long, dreary winter.”
“I’m glad.” He smiled. “I look forward to getting to know you, and if you are so inclined, learning more about our family history.”
The woman seemed to preen in front of him. “Why, I’d be most pleased to apprise you of our esteemed heritage.”
“Splendid. I’m sure your account will be infinitely more entertaining than my father’s.”
Aunt Ophelia gave him a true smile and her features lifted. “Most assuredly. Edward’s head is filled with facts and figures, not the subtle nuances of his relatives’ characters.”
The door opened and Victoria swept into the room, Sebastian on her heels.
“Father! Nolan! What a pleasant surprise.” Victoria smiled as she came forward. “What brings you into the city?”
Nolan bent over her hand, then offered a handshake to Sebastian.
A Most Noble Heir Page 20