Lord Harrow's Heart

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Lord Harrow's Heart Page 3

by Susan M. Baganz


  “What brings you out tonight? No balls to escort your wife to?” Theo asked as he sipped a glass of wine.

  “We canceled tonight’s activities as my bride has a new project she is working on. I am, as a result, on my own for a few hours.”

  “Her loss, my gain.” Theo ran his forefinger round the rim of the glass, listened to it sing, and frowned.

  “You appear blue-deviled. What is amiss?” Phillip sipped his own wine, leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and awaited an answer.

  “I lost her.”

  “Who did you lose?”

  “The woman I fell in love with.”

  Phillip’s eyebrows rose. “You are in love? That is wonderful news, Theo.”

  “Not so wonderful. She disappeared.” He drank deeply and set the glass down so firmly the remaining wine splashed.

  “Who is the fortunate lady? Am I acquainted with her?”

  “You met her yesterday.” Theo crossed his arms and leaned his head back.

  “I did? Who is she? Remind me, please.” Phillip leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

  “Mrs. Wilson.”

  “Mrs. Wilson?”

  “Is that not what I said?” Theo frowned at his friend.

  “And you are in love with her.”

  “Yes.”

  “You want to marry this woman?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you know nothing about her.”

  “You knew nothing about Elizabeth when you married her.”

  “I wasn’t in love with her either. It is a heavy expectation to put on a marriage.”

  Theo leaned forward, getting closer to Phillip. “Are you saying it’s not possible?”

  Phillip’s hands went up in surrender. “I did not say that. But you don’t even know where she is so that would be a major obstacle.”

  Theo leaned back, and his eyes closed. “I realize that. I have mulled this over for hours and short of hiring a Bow Street Runner, I can come up with no other way to discover her whereabouts.”

  “I wonder if Mr. Neville is still in that line of work.”

  “No. He is now working for Whitehall. Remember?”

  Phillip nodded. “Perhaps I can help?”

  “How?”

  “What would you say if I told you I knew where she was?”

  “I would say you are lying, and that alone would surprise me. Why would you torture me like that?”

  Phillip grinned. “Because it’s rare for anyone to be able to get a rise out of you, Theo. Besides, I speak the truth.”

  “Where is she?”

  “My wife hired her.”

  Theo fought the urge to spar with Phillip right there at White’s but swallowed it. He would have expected this kind of behavior from Michael. “You do realize I’ll be haunting your house now.”

  “I suspected that might be case.” Phillip set the wine glass down, and quirked an eyebrow at Theo. “However, tonight will not be the night to be stopping by.”

  “Why?” Theo contemplated picking up his hat and doing just that.

  “I told you that Beth has a ‘project’. That project happens to be Mrs. Wilson. The doctor has seen her and you were correct. Her collarbone is broken. It appears a fellow servant assisted her in stabilizing it, but she has been ordered to rest, and another servant called upon to assist with her son until she is up and able to take care of ours.”

  “Tell me about the child. I assume she is a widow?”

  “You are a fool, Theo, if you think you can step in and sweep her off her feet. How would you know it’s not your title and wealth that would be drawing her, any more than the debutantes you escorted to the dance floor last night?” Phillip sighed and shook his head with a frown at his friend. “The young man is about six-years-old. She was widowed six months or more hence. She should be in half mourning but dresses in blacks and does not want to discuss her husband.” Phillip leaned forward. “I suspect she is keeping some secrets and she is not all she pretends to be.”

  “You only met her and already disparage her? Why have you taken her in?” Theo scowled. How dare he?

  “I do not disparage her, my good man. I am only making an observation. I’m not saying her secrets are nefarious, only that she has some.”

  Theo leaned back to sip his wine and think about this. “Do you think she could come to like me?”

  “I thought you were searching for love?” Phillip grinned.

  Theo sat quietly for a few moments. Was it love that he experienced for Mrs. Wilson? He’d only met her for less than half an hour and yet desired her instantly. Was that love? Touching her face and her hand produced sensations in him that no other woman had stirred before. Was that love or lust? He never considered bedding her. Well, to be honest, it crossed his mind. He was a man, after all, but he refused to entertain those thoughts as worthy of the woman he wished to make his wife.

  He could envision her entering a grand ballroom on his arm, in a flowing cerulean gown, with her golden locks piled high but spilling forth with tantalizing ringlets. Every man would be staring at her and envying him. He would waltz with her and keep her close to his side. In time, he would allow other men to dance with her, but he doubted he could do so with as much equanimity as Phillip did.

  “Theo?” Phillip’s voice was almost a whisper.

  Startled out of his reverie, Theo turned towards his friend. “What?”

  Phillip laughed. “You have the worst case of calf love I’ve ever witnessed.”

  Theo growled.

  Phillip put up a hand and laughed. “Realize that love requires sacrifice. Don’t go around telling yourself that she’ll fall at your feet in gratitude and you will be able to whisk her off to your estate outside of St. Neots without having to do some work to get there.”

  “You didn’t need to work to get Beth.” Theo pouted.

  “Ah, but Marcus sacrificed for Josie, and what Michael and Katrina went through I would not wish on any person. No, I did not sacrifice much to marry my wife, but to love and keep her was brutal.” Phillip leaned back again lost in memories, a sadness shadowed his eyes. “I would’ve given my life to keep her safe, Theo, but those deeper affections did not develop overnight. God certainly blessed us as we leaned on Him in our trials.”

  “God again?”

  “It always comes back to Him, Theo. He was before time began and He is the One who determines your eternal destiny. Earthly love and joy are temporary but for all that, a blessing beyond description.”

  “Since when did you wax poetical?”

  Phillip grinned. “Probably since our son has stolen any hope of a full night’s sleep. Delirium, my dear friend, but worth the price.”

  Theo rose to his feet. “I am headed for home. Thank you for keeping a lonely man company. May I stop by on the morrow to check on Mrs. Wilson?”

  “You may, but Beth is protective of her. Do not be surprised if you are denied an audience with your heart’s desire.” Phillip stood, claimed his own hat, and the two men walked out together before parting ways.

  ~*~

  Theo arrived early the next morning at the Westcombe residence.

  “Lord Harrow has arrived, my lady,” the butler intoned as Theo followed him into the breakfast room.

  “Theo. I was expecting you. Break your fast with me. Sit. Share the on dits.” Lady Elizabeth Westcombe was a lithe beauty with red hair and a winning smile. The haunted look in her eyes when they’d first met disappeared after she married Phillip. They overcame many challenges, including the loss of her father, Lord Follett, due to the machinations of Lord Wolton, who was presumed dead.

  Theo’d initially been jealous of Phillip and his good fortune to find such a lovely wife who had softened the edges on his orderly friend. Over time he came to realize what a good match they both made. He helped himself to some food and sat across the table from a woman he now thought of almost as a sister.

  “You are gracious as always, Beth.” He waited for the footm
an to fill his cup with coffee and added sugar to it. The servant departed, closing the door behind him. Theo sipped the coffee and burnt his tongue. He set the cup down and considered the woman across from him.

  She was nibbling her toast with one eyebrow raised, much like her husband was wont to do, as she awaited his request.

  “I came to inquire of your most recent employee, Mrs. Wilson.”

  Beth took a sip of her tea. “I expected you. Phillip alluded to the fact that you are intrigued with the young widow. I am not surprised. Her elegance and regal bearing speak of someone who was not born to the servant class.”

  “How does she fare?” Theo dug into his eggs with relish. The Westcombe’s cook was one of the best, and he never ate a bad meal when at their table.

  “In a month or so she should be much better. She will need to be careful and we will allow her to recuperate fully before expecting her to assume any duties as a nanny. She has already met our dear Andrew and Dartanian has already taken over supervising his play in the nursery. Andrew cannot help but toddle along after him everywhere. It is a blessing to see him so happily occupied.”

  Theo grinned. He had not seen the red-headed little boy in several weeks since they’d celebrated his one-year birthday. It had been difficult for him watching his friends with their wives and children and him being alone. They included him in everything like a favorite uncle, but it didn’t fulfill that inner longing in his heart for a family of his own.

  He chuckled to himself that several years ago, if someone told him he would be pining for a wife and children of his own he would have ascribed it to insanity. Now, he wondered if he was the one going insane. “I am eager to visit Drew again and meet Dartanian. Will I perchance get to see Mrs. Wilson to check on how she fares?”

  Beth pursed her lips as if trying to restrain a smile. “I will ask if she is feeling up for visitors but I suspect, Theo, that you may need to wait a few days. She has been instructed to rest in her room and she is quite proper. I doubt she would care for you to see her in deshabille.”

  Theo’s face grew warm at the thought of the woman of his dreams dressed in her nightrail. “I shall wait, if that is what you deem best, my lady.”

  Beth nodded. “If it would be more tolerable for you, I could send you a message in a few days when she has recovered enough to leave her room.”

  Theo nodded as he cleared his plate and was finally able to drink his coffee. “I would appreciate that.” He rose and bowed to Beth. “Thank you for the meal. It was a pleasure seeing you again.”

  He left to return to his own home, trying to figure out how he would wait all these days before viewing the beautiful blonde who held his heart hostage.

  ~*~

  Valeria rested in bed which went against everything she wanted. She could hear her son playing with the toddler that would soon be her charge. She was being cared for with great consideration by the servants and given personal attention by Lady Westcombe herself. She was uncomfortable. Her life was totally beyond her control.

  Lord Harrow had come to visit her and had been denied for the time being as she recovered. Did she want to see the handsome aristocrat again? She’d never experienced the physical reaction that came over her when the handsome lord touched her. Remembering his tenderness sent shivers up her spine, not from fear but from some form of strange delight. No man ever before evoked desire and safety in her and she distrusted those emotions. The heart was deceitful if she remembered the Scripture correctly. It had certainly been when her husband and his family wooed her.

  Darkly handsome, Damon had managed to whisk her away with dreams and promises that turned into horrible nightmares. She had not mourned his passing.

  For the first time in her life, once Damon had been buried, she experienced freedom. That was, until her father-in-law visited. He assumed that she would continue as chatelaine of the estate and that he would step in to replace his son. Disgust and a new conviction of the danger of her situation compelled her to take drastic action.

  Months later and she was living with the consequences of her decision. She and her son were safe. Even leaving the Fishbottoms’ was an answer to an unspoken prayer of her heart. Mr. Fishbottom had begun to stalk her in the upstairs hallway and make indecent proposals. She lacked any desire to ever be touched by a man in that way, ever again.

  The only blessing from her marriage was Dartanian. She fled in the middle of the night with her son, hoping to disappear, but wondered now if that was going to be possible. As safe as she was at the moment in the bosom of this family, it was only a matter of time before she was exposed, and the danger would be greater than ever. If the Fishbottoms had been part of that exposure she wouldn’t have cared, but the Westcombes were a different story. Out of necessity she would take advantage of their hospitality until she was recovered enough to escape once more.

  Where would she go? France was not a viable option. Her family no longer existed there. All had lost their lives in the Revolution and she held no affection for the Little Emperor, Napoleon Bonaparte. The Americas were a possibility, although the thought of a voyage across the ocean nauseated her. She remembered the brief time on board ship when she was brought here by her father-in-law to marry his son so his heirs would inherit noble French blood. But a sea voyage was the lesser evil to being discovered by those who sought her and her son.

  She possessed little money and would need to earn more before she could make such a trip. The treachery of the Fishbottoms’s deceit with regards to her wages set her back by several months from achieving her goal.

  What else could she do to keep her son safe until they could depart?

  3

  A week later, Valeria sat in the nursery watching the antics of her son and little Andrew as they pretended they were ponies. Before she realized they had visitors, she heard a gasp come from the doorway.

  A petite young woman with brown hair and big eyes halted in the entranc. Her hand covered her mouth and she appeared about to faint.

  Lady Westcombe stood behind her.

  Valeria stood. “Let her have my chair.”

  Lady Westcombe brought her friend to sit in the rocking chair.

  “What is wrong?” Valeria asked.

  The woman’s gaze was fixed firmly on Dartanian. The lady’s mouth tried to move but no sound came out.

  “Katrina, what is it? What has you so shaken?” Lady Westcome asked while rubbing the woman’s back.

  “Michael,” Katrina whispered.

  “Do you want me to get Michael?” Lady Westcombe inquired.

  Katrina shook her head and cried.

  Lady Westcombe motioned for Valeria and the nursery helper to remove the children from the room.

  “Dartanian, Andrew,” Valeria called to the boys, who had stopped playing to stare at the woman sobbing in the chair. “Time for a nap.”

  “Maman?” Dartanian asked.

  Valeria glanced at him. “Please go. Lie down or read and stay with Andrew for right now. I will come to get you in a little while.”

  Once the children left the room the woman in the chair peered up at Valeria.

  Valeria stepped forward. “I’m Mrs. Wilson, the new governess for the Westcombes. Is there anything I can do?”

  Katrina’s eyes were filled with pain and swollen with tears. She shook her head. “I’m sorry for being such a watering pot. I am enceinte. Your son…”

  Valeria grew concerned. “What about my son?”

  Lady Westcombe spoke at the same time. “Congratulations, Katrina! How wonderful!”

  Katrina seemed unsure who to answer first. She was saved from doing so by the entrance of the men into the room.

  Valeria was shocked. The man who entered alongside Lord Westcombe was identiques to her deceased husband. Before Valeria was aware of it the room went dark.

  She awakened in the arms of the man who caused her to faint. “Impossible. You are dead.” She struggled to free herself from the man’s grasp.

 
; Lord Westcombe reached out and helped her rise to her feet.

  The twin of her deceased husband went over to where Katrina sat.

  “I suspect introductions are in order. Mrs. Wilson, may I present to you some of our dearest friends, Sir Michael Tidley and his wife, Katrina.”

  “Michael?” Valeria asked.

  “Michael. How could you?” Katrina rose and punched her husband in the stomach.

  “What have I done now?” the knight answered. He was only a little taller than his wife and not to Valeria’s height. His dark hair and eyes were furrowed as he gazed at his bride and protected his stomach from another blow.

  “You. And her?” Katrina spat out.

  “I have never met her before this moment. What are you insinuating?”

  At that moment, Dartanian ran to his mom’s side and wrapped his arms around her legs. “Maman?” The little boy stared at Sir Tidley. “Maman?” He started to cry and hid behind her, gripping a handful of her skirt.

  Lord Westcombe shook his head. “What is going on here? Katrina, would you care to start?”

  Katrina nodded and pointed. “That little boy.”

  “What of him?” asked Valeria.

  “He appears just as Michael did when he was younger. There is the painting your mother had done of you at that age.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned her back on her husband, as much as she could while sitting in a chair.

  Valeria pointed at Michael. “He is my husband come back to life!”

  Michael retorted. “I’ve never seen you before in my life, Mrs. Wilson. I do not understand what game you are playing at, but I do not appreciate you casting aspersions on my character.” He tried to reach out to his wife who stood and took steps away from him.

  Lady Westcombe stepped between the two sparing spouses. “I believe there is some kind of misunderstanding here that can be easily resolved.”

  “Maman?” Dartanian whined as he peeked his head out. “Will Papa hurt me?”

  “He would need to get through me first.” Valeria experienced fear and rage at the threat the man before her presented. She crossed her arms and mentally prepared herself for battle.

 

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