by Holt, Cheryl
He scowled. “Not right away, you ridiculous ninny. You’re to wait until I’m back. We’ll work on it together. Promise me.”
She could conceive of no more horrid prospect than to sit with him as he expounded on how quickly he was determined to be rid of her.
“Yes, we can proceed once you’re back,” she lied.
He smiled. “Don’t be sad.”
“I’m not.”
“This is how it has to be.”
“Of course. I understand.”
“You’ll be happier away from here. You won’t have to put up with me anymore. You won’t have to suffer my moods and rages. We’ll locate a quiet place for you, a comfortable place. You’ll be better off.”
“I’m positive that’s true.”
For a lengthy moment, she studied him, cataloging every detail. She was being pummeled by the most anguished perception that she would never see him again, and she was suspecting she wouldn’t. There was the heaviest weight in the air, as if grief was about to wash her away. It was already crushing her.
But she’d muddle through it. She was tough. She was a fighter. She was a survivor.
“Have a safe trip,” she said again, and she dashed out.
He shouted after her several more times, but whatever he’d been inclined to impart, it wasn’t vital enough for him to chase her down. She flitted down halls and around corners, eventually sneaking into a deserted bedchamber.
She closed and locked the door, then her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the floor. She remained there for hours, blindly staring at the rug. Occasionally, she heard people calling for her—her sister, her father, Tom, the cook—but never Lord Middlebury.
He was a busy man, and he’d have jumped onto his horse and ridden off to Wallace Downs with Mr. Stanton. And why wouldn’t he have? What was it to him if she was devastated? What was it to him if he’d broken her heart? What was it to him if she felt so bereft she might simply quit breathing?
She mustered the energy to rise, and she pushed herself to her feet and went over to the window to discover that the afternoon had waned. She exited her refuge and walked down the stairs, her expression serene, her demeanor very calm.
Lord Middlebury had left. If she was unlucky, it would be for a few days. If she was lucky, he’d stay for the wedding and wouldn’t be back for nearly a month. She would hope for the month. Of a certainty, when he arrived, she would no longer be at Middlebury.
She’d been so swept up in his life that she’d forgotten how the world worked. She’d thought she could make him love her, but she was so far beneath him that her ludicrous infatuation was laughable.
He was lord of the manor, and he’d taken a fancy to her. In that, she was no different from the scullery maid who lifted her skirt for a penny, the problem being that Helen hadn’t even received the penny.
She descended to the foyer and was surprised to learn that the mail had been delivered. Who would have brought it? It wasn’t as if they had a footman to send into the village to fetch it.
She wasn’t interested in the stack, but she supposed it might contain correspondence for Des or Jasper. No one knew yet that they weren’t at Middlebury. She picked up the pile and riffled through it, being astonished to find a letter addressed to herself. From its ornate seal and thick parchment, it had to be from an important person.
She staggered over to a chair and flicked at the seal. Her old friend, Evangeline Etherton Drake, Lady Run, who owned the school they’d attended as girls, had replied to her pleading missive regarding a job solicitation.
Lo and behold, there was an opening for a teacher, and the position would start in the middle of September. But…the teachers’ dormitory was available immediately, and she could move at once if she wished.
Finally, something had gone right.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Alex! I didn’t realize you were back.”
“Hello, Abigail.”
He walked over and kissed her, relieved that he’d caught her alone. With the wedding so close, the manor was filling up, and there were several discussions that had to be undertaken in private.
She was in the small dining room, eating what was for her a late breakfast. Usually, she was up at dawn and flitting around like a madwoman to ensure things were running perfectly.
She had retained such an excellent staff that it wasn’t necessary for her to work so hard, but he recognized what drove her. She’d been raised to manage a grand house, and she wanted to constantly prove that she deserved the chance she’d been given.
He was so in love with her though that, if she’d been a complete bungler, he wouldn’t have cared. She’d swept into his life quite by accident and had fixed what he’d ruined with his sloth, inattention, and licentious habits.
He eased onto the chair beside her, and she studied him. She was incredibly perceptive and understood him better than anyone ever had.
“You rode all night?” she asked.
“Most of it. I rested for a few hours.”
“For heaven’s sake, Alex, what possessed you? If I’d known, I’d have been in a total dither.”
“I needed to get home. I needed to be with you.”
She stared more intently. “You look distraught. What happened? Where is Christopher? Is he all right?”
“He’s fine. He should be here by this evening.”
“He didn’t return with you?”
“No. Is everyone up?”
“I think so. Why?”
“We have to have a family meeting.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
There was a footman standing by the buffet, waiting to assist their guests, and Alex said to him, “Would you excuse us? And don’t let us be interrupted.”
“Of course, Mr. Wallace.”
The man stepped into the hall and shut the door.
“What is it?” she asked. “I’m terrified over what you’re about to confide.”
“It’s not terrifying. It’s fantastic and bizarre and extraordinary, but it’s not terrifying.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
He chuckled miserably. “I can’t decide where to start.”
“Is it Jasper? Is it Desdemona? Is it Middlebury? Has the manor burned down? Has there been a flood? What?”
“It’s Jasper and Desdemona, but it’s not them too. Did I show you the letter from Jasper?”
“No.”
“It was simply signed by Middlebury, so I assumed it was from him.”
“He can’t have successfully scolded you. Don’t tell me the wedding is off. You’ve been divorced once. I refuse to have you become divorced a second time.”
“I didn’t even talk to Jasper. He wasn’t there.” He glanced to the sideboard where the dishes were arrayed in a tidy row. “Is there any whiskey tucked behind the food?”
“No. I don’t allow that sort of nonsense anymore.” She reached out and caressed his arm. “What’s wrong, Alex? Just spit it out. You’re making this much worse than it has to be.”
He clasped her hands in his, and he searched her eyes, wondering how she’d weather the coming ordeal. She’d been so fond of her brother. She’d worshipped him. She’d doted on him—his sisters all had—but Hayden Henley wasn’t the charming boy he’d been a decade earlier.
What would she think of him? How would they interact? How would it impact Alex’s life? How about his marriage to Abigail? Henley was already demanding Alex given him Mary and Millie. What else might he demand?
“Abigail, your brother, Hayden, is alive, and he’s in England. He’s at Middlebury.”
She cocked her head as if he’d spoken in a foreign language she didn’t comprehend. “That’s not funny, Alex.”
She struggled to pull away, and he tightened his grip.
“Listen to me,” he calmly said. “I went to Middlebury, as the earl requested. I figured it would be a humorous lark, but Ja
sper wasn’t there. Hayden was. The earl who’d summoned me was your brother.”
“But…but…that’s not possible.”
“I saw him. I chatted with him. He’s there, and he’s taken over.”
She sank back in her chair. “You’re positive it was him?”
“No doubt.”
“Where has he been?”
“I didn’t delve into many details. Before I arrived, there had been an…incident.”
“What type of incident?”
“Desdemona stopped by and shot him.”
“No!”
“Yes! She wasn’t too keen on the notion of him showing up, but her aim was off, so she just wounded him. He seemed fine, a little rattled but fine.”
“How long has he been in England?”
“I have no idea.”
She appeared pole-axed, and she shook her head in confusion. “He didn’t try to find us…or notify us he was home…or…or…anything. Would we ever have heard from him?”
“I don’t think he knew where any of you were. The old servants are all gone, so I’m betting there was no one to tell him your current location. Somehow though, he learned about the wedding, and a few days ago, he snuck to Wallace Downs.”
“Why would he feel the need to sneak?”
“I can’t guess what he planned, but he ran into Millie out in the woods. It shocked him so thoroughly that he left without knocking on our door.”
“Shocked him…how?”
Gently, he explained, “He didn’t realize he was a father, Abigail. He’d been told Eugenia lost her baby, so he wasn’t aware he had one child, let alone twins. After he found out, he was flummoxed over how to approach us.”
“I can imagine.”
“He was fretting about it, so his housekeeper wrote to me, pretending to be the earl. That’s who penned the letter. She tricked me into coming, and if it had been up to Hayden, no visit would have been permitted.”
“The housekeeper wrote you? Why would she?”
“They’re overly friendly. He’d asked her opinion about how to contact us, and she devised her insane plot to lure me to Middlebury. She thought we should resolve some of our issues away from Wallace Downs.” He shrugged. “She was probably correct. I wouldn’t have wanted him to trot up the drive without our having some warning of what was about to occur.”
“When you met with him, did he know who you were?”
“Oh, yes. He wasn’t happy to have me in his home, and he was quite angry with the poor woman for interfering.”
“She must be very brave.”
“Or very deranged.”
They were staring, speechless, the information too riveting and too outlandish to absorb. He’d had an entire day to ponder it while she’d just been apprised. She was stunned and bewildered.
“My, my,” she ultimately murmured. “This doesn’t seem real to me. Shall I ride to Middlebury? Should I go see him? Tell me.”
“Well, here’s the good news. Or maybe it’s the bad news. I’m not sure which it is. He’s coming to Wallace Downs later today. Christopher is bringing him.”
She was agog. “He’s coming here?”
“Yes.”
“My brother is coming? My deceased brother? Why would it be bad news?”
“He’s not the boy he was, Abigail. He’s not the person you remember.”
“Who is he then?”
“He’s this tough, violent, rude stranger.”
“You didn’t quarrel with him, did you?”
“No, but Desdemona Henley had shot him, and he didn’t even notice. He sat in his front parlor, woozy and bleeding, and he wasn’t concerned—as if he’d been injured a thousand times prior and one more gunshot hardly mattered. It was the most peculiar spectacle I’ve ever witnessed.”
“But…he’ll be here.”
“If he’s not feverish, but I’m predicting no wound could lay him low. He was too…too…” He broke off. “You’ll see what I mean once he arrives.”
“We have to tell the twins,” she said. “We have to tell my sisters.”
“Yes, and Abigail? He wants custody of the twins. It was really the only comment he had for me about any of this. He wants them with him at Middlebury. Right now. He wants to take them with him when he heads home.”
“We don’t even know him!” she complained. “We don’t know where he’s been or what happened to him. We don’t know what kind of man he is.”
“Precisely, and I can’t let them become excited about the prospect of leaving with him. They live in their own little world. What if they beg to go? What then?”
“They’ve always been waiting for him,” Abigail said. “All these years, they watched and waited.”
“When I rode off to Middlebury, they were out by the road, hoping he’d pass by.”
“Why were they?”
“He talked to Millie in the woods.”
“The scamp didn’t mention it.”
“She wouldn’t. You know what she’s like.”
“She recognized him?”
“Yes, but she thought he was a ghost.”
“Oh, my,” Abigail mused. “This is already very complicated.”
“It is, so I’m placing the entire quagmire in your competent hands. You have to figure out how to tell them and what to tell them.”
“Where should I start?”
“It’s beyond me to offer suggestions. Just don’t dally too long. He and Christopher should be here for supper.”
“Gad, I better get moving.” She stood and patted him on the shoulder. “Have some breakfast, then why don’t you go upstairs and lie down for a bit?”
He raised a brow. “Will you come with me?”
“There’s no time, my dear husband. I have to muster my sisters, then I have to break the news to the twins.”
“I’ll eat, but I should join you for both discussions. I’m sure they’ll have many questions.”
“Most likely.”
“After we’re finished, will you come upstairs with me then?”
“If I can work you into my busy schedule.”
She winked and strolled out.
He was too weary to dish up his own food, and she realized it. She sent the footman to assist him, and he relaxed and allowed himself to be pampered. He spent a few minutes enjoying the peace and quiet, for of a certainty, the serenity of his home was about to be shattered.
* * * *
Jasper sat on a sofa in the front parlor of his mother-in-law’s house. Luckily, Des had chased her off, so he didn’t have to put up with her annoying presence.
He was wondering, after Hayden calmed down, if he could convince his cousin to let him have the house. He’d toss out his mother-in-law and live in it himself. It was a fine residence that he’d purchased as they rose to prominence, but he’d swiftly been forced to admit that he didn’t understand much about money.
He’d never been taught about management or accounting ledgers. At the outset, it hadn’t been difficult. He’d been guided by the Middlebury employees who’d helped him keep things on an even keel, but gradually, he’d gotten rid of all of them.
He hadn’t liked to be told he was making mistakes or reaching bad decisions. Whenever a servant had tried to dissuade him from reckless conduct, he’d been fired. Jasper had wound up with no one around him who had had any sense at all. And of course, Des had been the absolute worst at retaining capable staff. He’d been reduced to relying on ingrates and fools.
For quite awhile, it hadn’t seemed dire. He’d been so rich, and the wealth had flowed in without his exerting much effort to accumulate it. But after it had begun to flow out again, there hadn’t been a way to stop it.
He was leafing through the London newspaper when he espied a legal notice. A strangling sound emerged from his throat.
All creditors should be advised that Hayden Henley, Viscount Henley, Earl of Middlebury, has assumed title an
d control of the estate referred to by all and sundry simply as Middlebury. Hayden Henley, Lord Middlebury will not pay and will not sanction any debts incurred—at any time or at any place—by persons known as Jasper or Desdemona Henley.
The dastardly announcement was humiliating and disconcerting, and he was seriously pondering whether he shouldn’t sneak out of the country. Even when he’d held the title, he’d been bedeviled by debt collectors, but with Hayden declaring his position revoked, the vultures would swoop in.
Where could he hide? The ends of the Earth probably wouldn’t be far enough, and he would have to continue borrowing. Otherwise, how would he support himself, let alone Desdemona?
She’d been away for several days, having traveled to London to gather friends to their cause. As to himself, he’d been writing frantic missives to every acquaintance, including various lawyers, but he hadn’t received a single response.
Des was planning a party for the following week, but suddenly, people were sending letters of regret to say they couldn’t attend. Prior to her having left for town, she’d ordered victuals from the local butcher, but no food had been delivered.
The cook had just strutted in to inform him that the larder was nearly empty, and his exasperation was extreme. He wasn’t in charge of the household, and Des had to get home and see to her duties. It was typical of her to abandon him when he needed her most.
His imagination wandered, and he contemplated the thrilling idea of fleeing the country, of sailing off to America or Jamaica or Egypt. He’d leave Des behind, would become a bachelor again and would have adventures a married man could never experience with a tedious spouse like her.
He was so wrapped up in his fantasy of an escape that, at first, he didn’t realize a carriage had rolled up outside. When he noted the Henley crest on the door, he hurried over to the window.
He didn’t recognize the driver, but Hayden was riding a horse behind the vehicle, and there was a second man with him who appeared to be Christopher Stanton. He watched them, curious as to who was in the carriage and if Hayden might give it to Jasper so he’d have transportation.
A spurt of optimism flared. Might Hayden intend to apologize for beating Jasper to a pulp? Might he rue their quarrel and want to make amends? They were family after all. They shouldn’t fight.