A Most Noble Heir

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A Most Noble Heir Page 24

by Susan Anne Mason


  Several weeks back, when Nolan had mentioned the annulment again, Edward had mumbled something about the matter taking more time than Mr. Grayson expected. And once again, Nolan had let the matter drop, loath to damage the fragile bond they had established. Why hadn’t he followed up more forcefully? “Did your solicitor manage to overturn the annulment?”

  “No, he did not,” Edward admitted after several seconds.

  Nolan’s heart sunk. So they were no longer married after all. “I thought you said things were in the works to rescind it.”

  “I may have . . . misrepresented the matter.” Edward’s glance slid away.

  Nolan’s nerves stretched as tight as violin strings. “What exactly does that mean?”

  It occurred to him now that his father could have been stalling all along on purpose. Perhaps he’d never had any intention of having the annulment overturned. Perhaps Nolan had been a fool to trust him.

  Edward walked to the other side of the piano, hands clasped behind him. “The truth is . . . Mr. Grayson never filed the papers in the first place. After I learned of Hannah’s condition and discovered that he still had the document, I told him to hold off.”

  “You what?” Disbelief roared through Nolan as he struggled to take in the meaning of his father’s admission. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why lie to me all this time?”

  Edward looked Nolan in the eye. “I feared if you knew, you would have no reason to stay. As long as this legal entanglement hung over your head, I could keep you here.” He let out a sigh. “It was wrong of me, and I apologize.”

  A mixture of emotions swirled though Nolan’s system. Outrage that Edward had purposely misled him all this time and blessed relief that an annulment had never taken place.

  “So Hannah and I are still legally married?”

  “As far as I know, yes.”

  “And my status as your heir?”

  Edward winced. “Still unofficial.” A hint of fear flashed through his eyes.

  Did his father not believe that after all Nolan had been through these past six months that he had accepted his role as Edward’s son? Too many secrets and ambiguities remained between them.

  Edward came around the piano to stand beside Nolan. “I deeply regret any harm I’ve caused.” He lifted a hand as though to touch Nolan’s shoulder, then let it drop. “I want you to know how much this time with you has meant to me. I only hope you can one day forgive me.” His eyes were shadowed with sincere remorse.

  Nolan ran a hand over his jaw. As the stress of the past several months faded, so did his anger. Holding a grudge against his father would serve no purpose. Would do nothing toward helping Nolan achieve his goal of a reunion with Hannah.

  But one major hurdle remained. Hannah had said she wouldn’t return until she had Edward’s blessing. He lifted his head to meet his father’s uncertain stare. “May I ask if your opinion of my marriage has changed? Or do you still oppose it with every breath?”

  Edward hesitated, then gave a slight shrug. “A funny thing has occurred over these past months. I have been forced to reevaluate many things in my life and during this time of introspection, I have come to realize that your wife gave us both a great gift when she left.”

  “How so?”

  Edward’s lips twitched, as though recalling something amusing. “I never told you that Hannah came to see me the morning she departed. She advised me to use the time to discover what a wonderful man my son was. At the time, I was glad to be rid of her and did not think much of her words. But I’ve been giving the matter a great deal of thought as of late.”

  He turned back to the piano, fingering the note from Lady Hartford. “The duchess has given me some recent written counsel as well. She asked me to think about what I wanted my future to look like. Did I want a family filled with resentment and bitterness? Or did I want a united, loving family that would provide a nurturing environment for my grandchild?” He straightened and gave Nolan a pained glance. “You once asked me if I regretted my life, and I answered untruthfully, for I could not admit to making a mistake. The truth is that I do regret it—most grievously. I regret those lonely, wasted years that caused me to harden into a man I did not recognize.” He moved closer and placed solid hands on Nolan’s shoulders. “I do not wish to see you repeat the same miserable life, nor do I wish to see my grandchild grow up without a father.”

  Nolan’s chest squeezed. “Nor do I,” he said quietly.

  “I have watched you do your best these many months to conform to your new role, doing all I have asked of you and more. I now wish to return the favor. Come with me.”

  Edward strode out into the corridor. Nolan followed somewhat tentatively. They entered his study, where Edward pulled open a desk drawer. With a flip of his hand, he removed some papers. “These are the documents you signed so long ago. Do with them as you wish. I’ve already advised Mr. Grayson to draw up new papers regarding your status as my heir.”

  Nolan stepped forward to take the document, warring emotions churning in his gut. “Does this mean that you are finally willing to accept Hannah as my wife?”

  Edward’s gaze remained steady. “From what I’ve observed, I believe her to be a woman of substance. Anyone who would sacrifice her own happiness to give her husband the opportunity to figure out his place in life is a worthy woman indeed.”

  Nolan’s mouth fell open. The words on the pages bled together into one black mass—as dark as his sordid soul. How had he not understood her true motives? “Hannah did say something to that effect, but I didn’t listen. I was certain she was using it as an excuse to punish me.”

  “Punish you for what?”

  “For neglecting her.” A wave of shame rolled over Nolan, making his cravat feel much too tight. “For not putting her needs ahead of mine. For not protecting her from that beast Bellows and allowing possible harm to come to our child.”

  Edward moved closer, his eyes solemn. “I believe that is your own guilt talking. I sincerely doubt Hannah viewed it that way at all.”

  Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.

  One of his mother’s favorite Bible verses came to mind with startling clarity. Nolan raked his fingers through his hair. “I have allowed my pride to keep me away all this time. Nursing my resentment and anger at her for leaving me.” His throat clogged with an uprising of emotion. “I’ve been a first-class fool.”

  Forgive me, Lord, and let Hannah forgive me as well. I forgot to put God in the middle of my marriage as Reverend Black advised. Perhaps if I had, things wouldn’t have gone so awry.

  Edward draped his arm across Nolan’s shoulders with a rare grin. “I fear my son takes after his father in more than just looks.”

  Nolan stiffened. Was it true? Was he really as arrogant and prideful as his father?

  Edward stepped back and clapped a hand on Nolan’s shoulder. “It’s not too late to rectify this mess. Come with me to Hartford Hall and make amends with your wife. I’m sure if you grovel enough, she’ll forgive you and take you back in time to see your child born.”

  Sudden energy surged through Nolan. “You’re right. It’s long past the time for action. And the first thing I will do is this.” He grabbed the papers from the desktop, strode across the room, and flung them into the fire. With great satisfaction, he watched them curl and blacken.

  As if in concurrence with Nolan’s actions, the mantel clock chimed the hour.

  “I will go to Hartford. But I will go on my own. There’s an urgent matter I need to take care of first.”

  The earl blinked, brows hiked. “Very well. I plan to leave at first light tomorrow. When I arrive, shall I tell them to expect you?”

  Nolan smiled his first real smile in months. “No. I think I’d prefer the element of surprise in my favor.”

  Chapter

  29

  Daisy barked a loud greeting as the Stainsby carriage pulled up in front of Hartford Hall. Standing at the open front door, Hannah smooth
ed the fabric of her green silk dress over her bulky front. Her stomach hadn’t roiled this much since the early days of her pregnancy.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, a desperate plea echoing in her heart. Please, Lord, let Nolan be here. Please let him come to claim his family.

  Seconds later, her anticipation floated away like dead leaves in the wind when the carriage door opened and the earl emerged—alone. Hannah remained focused on the coach, praying Nolan would alight, but the driver stepped up to close the door.

  Nolan was not inside.

  Still, a small flicker of hope remained that perhaps he had chosen to ride King instead of being confined in a carriage. She waited, holding her breath, as the earl mounted the steps to the front door.

  “My lord.” She curtsied as low as her belly allowed.

  He was impeccably dressed as usual in a black frock coat, striped cravat, gloves, and top hat. His silver-winged sideburns had been trimmed in a precise line, his hair slicked back beneath his hat.

  “Good afternoon, Hannah.” He bowed over her offered hand. “I see you are keeping well.” He glanced at her abdomen and then back to her face.

  “Very well, sir.” She worked to contain her surprise. He greeted her as though she were his peer rather than a servant. Perhaps it was due to her new wardrobe.

  “I’m pleased to hear it.” He peered over her shoulder, a brow lifted. “Is our hostess not here to greet me?”

  Light footsteps tapped across the inside tiles, and a flustered Iris appeared. “Here I am. Please forgive my tardiness, Lord Stainsby. An issue with one of my staff.” She paused to catch her breath, a blush staining her cheeks. She patted several stray hairs into place and made an effort to compose herself. “Welcome to Hartford Hall.”

  The earl’s mouth tipped up in a smile. “Lovely to see you again, Your Grace.” He took Iris’s hand and slowly brought it to his lips.

  For the first time since Hannah had known her, Iris appeared out of her element, staring at the earl as if every thought had left her head. “P-Please do come in.”

  Eyes still trained on her face, he took her arm in his, and together they walked through the entrance.

  Hannah remained on the top step to scan the road as far as she could see, but no telltale signs of a rider came into view. She blinked hard to hold back the threat of tears, squared her shoulders, and reentered the house.

  Molly appeared in the hall, and together she and Hannah joined their mother, the earl, and Aunt Iris in the parlor.

  “Where is Nolan?” Iris asked as they took their seats. “Was he unable to join you?”

  Hannah perched on the settee, her back ramrod stiff.

  The earl flicked a quick glance in Hannah’s direction. “He had some urgent business to attend to, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m sure he’ll do his best to be here.” Iris gave Hannah a sympathetic smile.

  Hannah’s insides quivered, and she bit her lip to keep her distress from showing. Nolan’s absence spoke louder than any words. Clearly, she and their child were not important enough.

  When the refreshments arrived, Iris rose and the earl turned his attention to Hannah. “Nolan tells me you are well. At least from what he ascertained in your letters.”

  “As well as can be expected.” Without one’s husband. She frowned. Why was the earl suddenly so interested in her? It had to be because she carried a possible Fairchild heir.

  Anger swooped in to replace the tide of hurt. Anger at this man for dashing her dreams into pieces. She lifted her chin to glare at him. “Tell me the truth, sir. Did you succeed in having my marriage to Nolan annulled? Is that why he no longer wishes to see me?”

  Her bold question did not seem to faze the man, as his expression did not change, save for the slight rise of one brow. “I believe that question will be best answered by Nolan himself.” Then the Earl of Stainsby winked at her and rose from his chair.

  What on earth did that mean?

  Flummoxed, Hannah stared as he crossed the room to Iris’s side and prayed that Nolan would show up soon to clarify the situation once and for all.

  Sometime later, after freshening up in his guest quarters, Edward descended the impressive Hartford staircase to the hallway below. While the duchess took care of some estate business, he planned to check out the late Duke of Hartford’s library as Iris had suggested earlier. According to her, it was a private collection without equal.

  Following the directions she had given him, he made his way down a back corridor to the double-paneled doors. He entered the library, surprised to find a fire burning in the hearth.

  He gazed around the room, which consisted of row upon row of books, organized in floor-to-ceiling mahogany shelves. Iris wasn’t exaggerating—it was a fine library indeed.

  Edward hoped he wouldn’t have too much time on his hands for reading, since he was looking forward to enjoying the company of his hostess. Other than her unusual bluntness, he found her to be charming and capable, a woman of extreme intelligence, as demonstrated by her running of such a vast estate—also further evidence of her flying in the face of social convention.

  He scanned the rows of shelves, searching for a volume to catch his interest. As he reached out a hand to choose one, a low bark sounded near his feet. Edward froze. The mud-colored canine blended right into the carpet. He would have stepped on the creature if it hadn’t moved.

  The dog sprang to its feet and leaped up, its front paws landing on Edward’s chest.

  “Get down.” He pushed the animal aside and moved back, tripping over the edge of the settee and landing in an undignified heap on the floor.

  A youthful giggle met his ears as he twisted to right himself. On his hands and knees, he glared in the direction of a wing chair, where the wide eyes of Molly Burnham peered at him from behind her book.

  “What the deuce is so funny?” His most ferocious earl voice failed to intimidate her, as her shoulders shook with silent glee.

  Another burst of laughter erupted from the doorway. “Why, I think that should be obvious, Edward.” Iris made no attempt to conceal her mirth at his predicament.

  How much had she witnessed of his disgrace? With as much dignity as he could muster, Edward pulled himself to his feet and tugged his waistcoat into place.

  Daisy trotted to her mistress’s side as though bearing no fault in his humiliation.

  He jabbed a finger in its direction. “That beast should not be allowed loose.”

  Another stifled giggle came from Molly.

  Iris laid a hand on Daisy’s brown head and sighed. “This will never do. Please sit down, Edward.”

  He clenched his teeth together and reluctantly obeyed.

  “Molly dear, would you go and check on Hannah for me? I need a word with the earl in private.”

  “Yes, Auntie.” The girl grabbed her book, gave a quick curtsy, and left the room.

  “Daisy, come.” Iris settled herself beside him on the sofa, while Daisy padded over to sit in front of them, tongue lolling, watching her mistress with adoring eyes.

  It took all of Edward’s concentration not to flinch at the drool dripping from the sides of its mouth. Edward had never had pets. The only animals he tolerated were his beloved horses, as well as the dogs he kept for hunting, and the occasional barn cat to keep the mice population under control. As far as he was concerned, dogs belonged in the barn, not shedding hair and slobbering over the furniture and carpets.

  “First of all, Edward, you need to relax. Animals can sense your dislike. Now give me your hand.” Iris’s calm gray eyes held his as she waited with her palm up for him to comply.

  “Why?” He eyed her with suspicion.

  “Do you trust me, Edward?”

  “I fail to see—”

  “Yes or no.”

  “I suppose so, yes.”

  “Then give me your hand.” The dog remained unmoving at her feet.

  Edward swallowed once and placed his hand in hers. Her smooth fingers sent chills up his
arm, and he forced himself not to snatch his hand away.

  “The first thing you must do is let Daisy learn your scent and let her know you like her. That you’re trustworthy.” Her grip on his hand tightened as he tried to jerk it back. “Relax. The more you resist her, the more annoying she will become in trying to win you over.”

  Edward huffed out an annoyed breath. “Fine, if it means she will leave me in peace.”

  Iris held their joined hands out to touch the animal’s cold, wet nose.

  All at once, his focus moved from the dog to Iris’s thumb moving in mesmerizing circles around his palm. Heat blasted up his neck. He turned to find her face very close to his.

  “That’s not so bad, is it?” She gave him an angelic smile.

  His eyes fell to her upturned lips and unexpected, inappropriate thoughts—like the desire to kiss those lips again—seized his brain.

  Daisy let out a yip and nudged their fingers.

  Iris turned her attention to the dog, moving Edward’s hand to the top of Daisy’s head. Together they stroked the dog’s silky fur, and her tail began to wag.

  “Good girl. You see, Edward is a friend.”

  Though his gaze stayed on the dog, Edward’s entire being remained attuned to Iris’s every breath, the touch of her hand, the brush of her elbow against his side.

  If it wouldn’t have been horribly rude, he would’ve jumped up and dashed from the room. Away from the onslaught of emotions swirling through his system. Away from the uncomfortable sensation of being caught in a snare.

  A very attractive, wonderful-smelling snare—but a snare nonetheless.

  After dinner, which Hannah barely picked at just to be polite, Iris moved the small party into the parlor for some entertainment. Her aunt announced she would play the piano, followed by a Bible reading from Molly and, if interest persisted, a reading of poetry. Though Hannah wasn’t in the mood to socialize, she reluctantly rose from the table with the rest of the group.

  The earl—or Edward, as he suggested they call him—escorted Iris from the dining hall. “Tell me, Lady Hartford, do you play chess?”

 

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