Castonbury Park 01 - The Wicked Lord Montague

by Carole Mortimer

  His laugh was husky—and slightly uncertain? ‘Is there any hope for me, Lily? After all that I have said and done, my abominable treatment of you, is there any chance you might possibly one day come to return my feelings for you?’

  It was uncertainty, Lily realised dazedly. The haughtily self-confident Lord Giles Montague was uncertain of her. Of her feelings for him!

  How could it be possible? What had she ever done to deserve that a man like Giles, a man she now knew to be honourable and true, should fall in love with her and wish to make her his wife?

  The latter was impossible, of course, given the differences in their stations, but the fact that he loved her, that he wanted—that he had asked—her to be his wife, was so incredible to Lily that she could only stare up at him with all the love she felt for him glowing in her overbright eyes.

  ‘Lily?’

  She melted at the uncertainty she still heard in his dear strong voice. ‘Oh, Giles, do you not know how much I—’ She broke off as a knock sounded softly on the door of the bedchamber before it was opened and Lumsden stood stiffly in the doorway.

  The butler swiftly averted his gaze from where Lily, wearing only the borrowed night-rail, was still held firmly in Giles’s grasp. ‘Mrs Lovell is becoming agitated at your delay, Lord Giles.’

  ‘I had forgotten all about Mrs Lovell!’ Giles shook his head. ‘Please assure her that Miss Seagrove and I will be with her immediately, Lumsden.’

  ‘Certainly, my lord.’ The butler bowed stiffly before his downcast gaze was once again raised to look at Lily. ‘I am pleased to see you feeling so much better, Miss Seagrove.’

  ‘Thank you, Lumsden.’ She smiled at him warmly. ‘I am pleased to be so!’

  He nodded stiffly. ‘I will tell Mrs Lovell that you will be with her shortly, my lord.’

  ‘Oh, dear.’ Lily chuckled softly once the butler had left, closing the door quietly behind him. ‘He is no doubt scandalised to find the two of us alone together and so close in this bedchamber, and me in a borrowed shift.’

  They weren’t close enough, as far as Giles was concerned, nor would they be until he had Lily as his wife, safely sharing his own bed. ‘You were about to say, “Giles, do you not know how much I…”’ he prompted huskily.

  She avoided meeting his gaze. ‘Should we not go to Mrs Lovell?’

  Yes, they should. And they would. As soon as Lily had completed that sentence. No matter what it might be! ‘Please, Lily?’ he groaned achingly.

  After all that the two of them had shared, the intimacy of their relationship, it did not seem possible that Lily should once again feel shy in Giles’s company. And yet she did.

  ‘Lily, please!’

  She could not bear it, could not bear to see the suffering upon his dear and handsome face a moment longer! ‘I am already in love with you, Giles.’ Her voice was husky but firm. ‘I could not have made love with you if I had not already been in love with you, my darling Giles!’ she assured him when he seemed able only to stare down at her in stunned disbelief.

  ‘You— I—’ He turned to scowl at the door as there was a second knock upon it in as many minutes. ‘What is it, Mrs Stratton?’ he prompted impatiently as it was she who this time entered the bedchamber uninvited.

  The housekeeper looked uncomfortable. ‘Mrs Lovell is threatening to get out of bed and come to see Lily for herself if you do not both go to her in the next few seconds.’

  ‘We are coming right now, dear Mrs Stratton.’ Lily laughed as she climbed out of bed to pull on the robe which matched her night-rail.

  Giles reached out to grasp her hand before she could follow the housekeeper from the bedchamber. ‘This conversation is not over, Lily,’ he warned determinedly.

  ‘I hope not, Giles.’ She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him lightly on the lips. ‘Oh, I do so hope not!’ Lily could feel the warmth in her cheeks as she continued to hold his hand as they left the bedchamber together.

  Her good humour faded the instant she saw Mrs Lovell looking frail and every inch her seventy-six years as she sat propped up against the pillows in the adjoining bedchamber, her long dark hair shown to be liberally sprinkled with grey as it lay loosely across her narrow shoulders, her poor face battered and bruised. ‘Oh, my dear!’ Lily released Giles’s hand to run across the room, hesitating only as she reached the bed, unwilling to take the elderly woman in her arms, as she so longed to do, for fear she might somehow increase her suffering. ‘Judah Lovell is a foul and unfeeling monster!’ she cried.

  The last time Lily had seen Judah Lovell he had been unconscious, thrown across the saddle of one of the grooms’ horses. But looking down at the many bruises and cuts that young man had inflicted upon his own aunt—with his fists?—and the splints supporting her two broken fingers, Lily wished vehemently that he had not merely been knocked unconscious but dead!

  Mrs Lovell gave a wan smile as she reached out with her uninjured hand and grasped one of Lily’s. ‘He has truly been revealed as the “dark and dangerous man” that the tea leaves warned us of, my love. He may have the face and hair of an angel, but his heart is as black as the deepest night,’ she added in answer to Lily’s puzzled frown.

  And Lily had feared—fleetingly—that it might be Giles who was that ‘dark and dangerous man’ who wished to harm her.

  How ridiculous that fear now seemed, when he had become the dearest person in the world to her, and the truest friend. Indeed, he was so dear to her, so much a man that she had come to admire as well as love, that it seemed impossible now to think she had ever thought of him in any other way.

  ‘I do not understand why—why your nephew behaved in this way.’ She shook her head. ‘What could he possibly hope to gain by injuring you and carrying me off in that way?’

  She gave another shudder at the thought of what her fate might have been if Giles had not rescued her.

  A shiver which Giles saw and responded to by putting his arm about her waist and drawing her near.

  ‘So it’s like that, is it?’ Mrs Lovell looked pleased by the possessive gesture. ‘I had hoped that it might be, but ye never can be sure.’

  ‘You may be very sure, Mrs Lovell.’ Giles spoke quietly but firmly. ‘I intend to make Lily my wife and ensure that no harm will come to her ever again.’

  The elderly woman nodded. ‘In that case, there’s a tale I must tell the both of you.’

  ‘You really must not trouble yourself with this now—’

  ‘Oh, yes, my chivvy, I must.’ Mrs Lovell assured Lily gruffly. ‘Today has shown it’s a tale that’s long overdue.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Sit ye down, lass, and listen to what I has to say,’ the elderly woman instructed firmly.

  Giles released Lily only long enough to fetch the stool from in front of the dressing table, and a chair from beside the window, waiting until Lily was seated in the chair before perching on the stool beside her and taking her hand back into his; if he had his way he would never allow Lily out of his sight or out of reach of his touch ever again!

  He turned to look at Mrs Lovell, his expression one of gentle enquiry. ‘Unless I am very mistaken, one of the things you wish to tell us is that Lily is your granddaughter?’

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘What—?’ Lily gasped breathlessly, her eyes wide and shocked as she stared down at the sunken figure in the bed.

  ‘Ah.’ Mrs Lovell gave Giles an appreciative glance. ‘So you’ve guessed that, have you?’

  ‘Not until a few minutes ago,’ Giles conceded. ‘But the likeness between the two of you, now that I see you together with your hair loose about your shoulders, is unmistakable to someone who cares to look.’

  ‘Hard to believe I was once as beautiful as Lily, hmm?’ The old lady cackled at her own joke before sobering. ‘Judah Lovell saw that same likeness when Lily arrived at the yag with her hair down two days ago!’ Her gaze had hardened.

  ‘You—’

  ‘Could the two of you please, pl
ease, be silent for just a moment?’ Lily regained her breath enough to be able to gasp. ‘I am really your granddaughter, Mrs Lovell?’ She looked down at the other woman uncertainly.

  The elderly woman’s expression softened as she steadily returned that gaze. ‘You really are.’

  ‘But I— You had only a son, I thought.’ Lily was still too stunned to be able to make any sense out of Giles’s statement and Mrs Lovell’s confirmation of it.

  ‘Matthew,’ the elderly lady confirmed gruffly.

  Lily nodded abruptly. ‘And when I asked you several years ago, you said that I was not the daughter of one of the young ladies in your tribe.’

  ‘And I didn’t lie to you.’ The older woman nodded. ‘It was my son, Matthew, who was your father.’

  Lily’s throat moved convulsively, and she barely breathed. ‘And my mother?’

  Mrs Lovell smiled emotionally. ‘Thea. Dorothea. Matthew’s wife, and my own daughter-in-law.’

  Lily blinked. ‘But— Then I am not— The two of them were married when I was born?’

  ‘For a year or more.’ The old lady nodded as she gave Lily’s hand a squeeze with her uninjured one.

  Lily turned dazedly to Giles. ‘I am not illegitimate, after all….’

  ‘No, my love.’ He smiled at her reassuringly. ‘And it would not have mattered to me if you were. I love you, and would still have wanted you for my wife, no matter who your parents were.’

  Lily smiled at him lovingly through her tears. Tears of happiness. Not only did Giles love her and want to marry her, but she was the daughter of Matthew and Dorothea Lovell, the granddaughter of Rosa Lovell. She had a family. She belonged!

  She had loved Mr and Mrs Seagrove all of her life, and always would. They were, and always would be, the mother and father of her heart, who had loved and cherished Lily as their own.

  But ever since she had been called ‘Gypsy’ as a child, and Mrs Seagrove had explained when and how she had been left to them as a gift to their childless marriage, Lily had felt a certain sense of displacement, of not quite belonging anywhere. To finally learn who her real parents were, who her grandmother was, meant more to her than she had ever realised. It was—

  Lily turned quickly back to Mrs Lovell. ‘Where is my mother now?’

  ‘Ah, my chivvy.’ Tears filled the elderly lady’s eyes. ‘She died long ago. It was—’

  ‘No!’ Lily groaned achingly. ‘When did she die? How did she die?’

  It was impossible for Giles to miss the silent plea for help in Mrs Lovell’s eyes as she turned to him. ‘Shall we let Mrs Lovell—your grandmother—tell us all in her own way, my love?’ he urged Lily gently, wishing there was some way he might spare her any more anguish, but knowing that she needed to learn the truth of her parents and her birth. The strong and determined Lily whom he had come to love would accept nothing less!

  She seemed to mentally shake herself. ‘Of course. I am sorry, Mrs— Grandmother,’ she corrected shyly.

  Tears glistened in those wily hazel eyes. ‘Ah, and it does my old heart good to hear you call me that at last!’

  ‘I will call you nothing else from this moment on.’ Lily nodded firmly.

  Mrs Lovell settled herself further up the pillows. ‘Then I must begin at the beginning of this tale and not the end.’ She nodded decisively. ‘Your mother’s name was Dorothea Sutherland. She was the daughter of Sir Thomas Sutherland, from Yorkshire. He was a very wealthy and widowed gentleman who had arranged for his only daughter, Dorothea, to marry a lord or an earl or some such—I forgets now. Anyway.’ She drew in a deep breath. ‘Dorothea, being an independent young lady of twenty-three, and with a definite mind of her own, weren’t having none of it.’ Mrs Lovell turned to smile affectionately at Lily. ‘It’s obvious where your own stubborn nature comes from!’

  Giles chuckled softly at the slight indignation in Lily’s expression. ‘You are very stubborn, my love. And I am thankful for it,’ he added gruffly. ‘I believe I might have continued to wallow in my own arrogant assumptions if not for your determination to convince me otherwise.’

  ‘Very nicely done, Lord Giles.’ Mrs Lovell shot him a mischievous glance.

  ‘I thought so.’ He nodded ruefully.

  ‘Well, as I say, Thea were a stubborn one. And besides, she already had her eye set on the handsome young Gypsy that was visiting the village with his tribe.’ She chuckled wryly. ‘My Matthew didn’t stand a chance against such a determined young woman, and afore any of us knew about it the two of them had run off together and were married.’

  ‘Were they very much in love?’ Lily prompted huskily.

  ‘Very,’ Mrs Lovell had no hesitation in confirming firmly. ‘Thea’s father were none too pleased, o’ course, and refused to have any more to do with her once he knew of the marriage. But Thea weren’t bothered one little bit. She and Matthew were happy, and she took to the travelling life like one born to it.’ Her eyes glowed with pride for the young lady who had been her daughter-in-law. ‘Some o’ the tribe were none too happy about bringing in an outsider either. Black Jack Lovell, Judah’s da, were one o’ them.’ Her mouth tightened. ‘Until he ferreted out that Thea had an inheritance, that is, and decided he might like a bit o’ that for himself.’

  ‘An inheritance?’ Lily looked puzzled. ‘I thought you said her father had disowned her?’

  ‘He did.’ Mrs Lovell nodded abruptly. ‘But her ma, being a forward-thinking lady, had left some money when she died for Thea to inherit when she turned twenty-one. Once Black Jack found out about it my Matthew and Thea were doomed,’ she added heavily.

  Lily swallowed down the nausea that had risen suddenly to her throat. ‘The shooting accident in the woods?’

  ‘Weren’t no accident.’ Her grandmother snorted. ‘Nor were it the gamekeeper as done it neither.’ She scowled. ‘I were never able to prove it, but Black Jack Lovell killed my Matthew, your father, as sure as I’m laying here!’

  Lily gave a dazed shake of her head. ‘But why? What could he possibly have hoped to gain by doing such a thing?’

  ‘Ten thousand pounds.’

  ‘Ten thousand pounds?’ Lily gasped.

  Her grandmother nodded. ‘That were the sum of Thea’s inheritance.’

  Lily looked stunned. ‘But I do not see how? How did your brother-in-law intend to take possession of my mother’s money?’

  ‘Could he possibly have intended to marry Matthew’s widow?’ Giles prompted softly.

  ‘Aye.’ Mrs Lovell scowled darkly. ‘Thea, being a woman of sense, saw through him. Besides being well along with you, Lily, she were heartbroken at Matthew’s death.’ She sighed deeply. ‘We both were.’

  Lily fell back against her chair, so bombarded with information—with emotions—that she could only cling tightly to Giles’s hand as her world shifted and settled, before as suddenly shifting again.

  Her father had been Mrs Lovell’s son, Matthew, her mother Dorothea, a lady, and the daughter of Sir Thomas Sutherland.

  Except that was not the end of the story. It seemed that Mrs Lovell—her grandmother—believed that Matthew had been murdered by her own brother-in-law, for the sole purpose of marrying Thea himself and taking possession of her inheritance.

  She swallowed hard. ‘And is—is my grandfather, Sir Thomas, still alive?’

  ‘No, my chivvy.’ Her grandmother looked regretful. ‘I found out shortly after Thea died that he’d been killed in a hunting accident six months after Thea ran off with my Matthew.’

  Lily looked searchingly at the elderly lady. ‘You discovered this shortly after my mother died?’

  Mrs Lovell winced. ‘You’re far too clever fer your own good! Yes, it were after Thea died. I—I had the idea that perhaps your grandfather might be willing to take in his newborn granddaughter and bring her up as his own. But it weren’t to be.’ She sighed heavily. ‘Sir Thomas had been dead almost a year by that time, and wi’out any sign of forgiveness for his only daughter.’

 
Lily drew in a ragged breath. ‘My mother died giving birth to me.’ It was a statement rather than a question, and was the only explanation Lily could think of for Mrs Lovell hoping that her maternal grandfather might take in a newborn baby.

  ‘Aye, she did,’ her grandmother confirmed quietly. ‘But not afore she had named you Lily Rosa, after her own mother and Matthew’s.’ She smiled tearfully. ‘You were such a beauty, Lily, and Thea was so proud o’ you.’

  Lily gave a pained frown. ‘You did not consider keeping me yourself?’

  ‘O’ course I considered it.’ The old lady bristled. ‘I would have liked nothing better. But I daren’t.’

  ‘Black Jack?’ Giles frowned darkly.

  Mrs Lovell nodded. ‘As I said, I had no proof that he’d killed my Matthew, but I let him know that I knew, and advised that he take himself off to other climes, and never come back if’n he didn’t want me to go to the authorities and leave them to decide what had really happened that day. I told the duke o’ my suspicions too, as to who had really slain Matthew—I couldn’t let some poor innocent take the blame.’ She looked at Giles. ‘Your da saw my predicament, and instead of dismissing the gamekeeper he moved him to another o’ the Montague estates.’

  Giles shook his head. ‘I never knew that….’

  ‘No reason why anyone else should know,’ the elderly lady dismissed briskly. ‘It was between your da and me.’

  ‘It was indeed.’ He nodded. ‘Black Jack would appear to have confirmed your suspicions by taking his son and going to Ireland.’

  The elderly lady sighed. ‘But even that weren’t far enough away for me. Not when there was a vulnerable babe to consider. The tribe moved on at the end of the summer as usual, but Thea was near her time, so we stayed a few miles from Castonbury until the babe was born. When Thea died giving birth to Lily I knew I had to protect her in some way.’

  ‘By leaving her with the Seagroves once you had discovered that her grandfather was dead, and then returning to your tribe and telling them that both Thea and the baby had died.’ Giles looked anxiously at Lily as he spoke, heartsick on her behalf for having learnt who her real parents were, only to as quickly find that they were both lost to her for ever.