Undone by the Earl

by Elizabeth Rue

  He flipped through the remaining pages, searching for the most recent balance sheet. What kind of return had she managed on ten thousand pounds in five years? She must have at least doubled her funds from what he could see. He finally found the page. When he saw the sum, neatly recorded in the solicitor’s angular hand, he nearly fell out of his chair.

  It was six figures long.

  22

  Adrian stared at the paper like a fool.

  Anna wasn’t merely rich, she was quite likely the wealthiest unmarried woman in Somerset. In her desire to protect Madeline from learning the details of her settlement, Anna had apparently kept her amazing fortune a secret as well.

  No wonder she wished to wait for her stepsister to marry. Who in their right mind would give up such a fortune, especially one so cleverly earned?

  Adrian frowned. Leaning over the desk, he flipped through the documents again, looking for one crucial bit of missing information. What happened to the money if Anna forfeited?

  He dug through the papers again, finding the pages of the original settlement, until he located the clause:

  Should Miss Anna Colbrook enter into matrimony before her stepsister, Madeline Sinclair, Miss Colbrook will forfeit, without any recourse, all funds in her account, including interest, and the sum will become sole possession of Madeline Sinclair, held in trust until the time she marries...

  Madeline would get the money once wed, so essentially it would belong to her husband. A fortune Madeline hardly needed to bring to a marriage as she already had over fifty thousand pounds.

  He could certainly understand now why Anna wished to wait to marry. But why hadn’t she told him everything? Why hadn’t she raised the possibility of them marrying later, but instead refused him outright?

  He slammed the paper onto the desk. She must not wish to marry him and for some reason had given that excuse, but why?

  He tossed the paper aside, rose, and began pacing.

  Did it matter? Whatever her reasons, she didn’t wish to be his wife. Yet she loved him, he was almost certain.

  So why had she refused him?

  She’d said herself such a marriage would hurt the family, possibly damage Madeline’s and Cecelia’s own hopes for affluent matches. That had been true and might still be true to some degree, but her fortune would go a long way towards erasing the stigma of having a father in trade. She knew that, so that couldn’t be the only reason she refused him.

  He paused near the fireplace, his gaze resting on the portrait above the mantel, the one he’d once wanted removed but never did, the seascape with two smiling women strolling arm in arm on a beach. He always thought they looked like mother and daughter...

  He recalled his second day at Wareton, when he’d asked Anna about her mother, and the ache in her voice when she told him her mother was miserable because she was married for her money.

  Of course. It was so ridiculously simple. The same reason why she kept her fortune secret was also why she’d refused him.

  She wanted to marry for love.

  Yesterday he’d been too worried about what the consequences of marrying her might be to give her any sign of his affection. To let her know that despite his fears, he truly wanted her for his wife. Instead of letting her know he loved her, he’d even agreed that her birth put her beneath him and declared he was marrying her out of duty.

  He was a bloody idiot.

  After his behavior, he didn’t blame her for apparently deciding to run off with Sir Neville, the one man she believed loved her.

  And if she married Sir Neville, many problems would be avoided. He could fulfill his duty of making a prestigious match without fear of repercussions for his family. And if Sir Neville married her, their family connection meant Edmund would undoubtedly be safe from his challenge forever.

  He should let her go.

  And not long ago he would have. But now everything was different. He was different.

  He only hoped he wasn’t too late.

  Adrian swung open the door and told a startled Smith to have his horse readied immediately.

  “Adrian, where are you going?” Lady Carlton planted herself in the study doorway, her hands on her hips.

  “All the way to Gretna Greene if I must.” He grabbed his money purse from the top desk drawer and shoved it into his coat.

  “Why?”

  “You know why.” He marched to the door. “Do not pretend you don’t. Now excuse me.”

  She clasped her hands together and stood tall. Her broad figure blocked the entire doorway.

  “I beg of you to think on what you are doing,” she said. “It is an excellent match for her. If you disrupt it, Sir Neville may change his mind. Consider what is best for the family—”

  “I’ve no time for this.” He grabbed his aunt by her arms and lifted her off the floor. He carried her through the doorway and set her back onto her feet in the hallway.

  “Adrian!” she sputtered, rubbing her arms. “You are quite out of your senses—”

  “I said I have no time for this.” He strode toward the foyer.

  “Adrian.” He could hear her heels clicking rapidly on the floor as she ran after him. “Adrian, stop.”

  He spun around. Panting, she grasped his arms.

  “The irony is,” he said before she could catch her breath, “that if I did not go after her now, later you would be furious with me.”

  “What nonsense. I won’t allow you to ruin the family name and destroy Cecelia’s future. I’ll throw myself in front of your horse if I have to!”

  “Do not tempt me, Aunt.”

  “She’s made you mad! Can you not see?”

  “You want me to go after her, you just don’t know it yet.”

  “She’s bewitched you.” She shook her head and grasped his coat sleeves more tightly. “I won’t let you ruin us all—”

  “My dear aunt,” he said, forcing himself to speak calmly, “Miss Colbrook is secretly the wealthiest heiress in Somerset.”

  Lady Carlton stilled. She held her breath, staring at him in disbelief.

  “She is worth over one hundred thousand pounds. Now unhand me, or I swear I’ll toss you in the pond on my way out.”

  “Over one hundred thousand?” she whispered, releasing his sleeves. “Miss Colbrook?”

  “Yes.”

  Lady Carlton turned a deep red shade, something he’d never seen before, and her mouth all but disappeared in an angry pucker.

  Adrian turned and strode into the foyer. Seconds later, his aunt caught up to him and rushed alongside him, waving her arms frantically as Smith swung open the front door. “Do not let Sir Neville marry her—ride your horse to death if you must, but go. Go.”

  Adrian rode his horse as fast as he dared without risking exhausting the animal.

  He had to stop them. The idea of Anna married to someone else was—unbearable.

  After just over an hour’s ride, Adrian almost didn’t believe it when he spotted Sir Neville’s carriage stopped in front of the first inn he came to in Hepton. He’d assumed that if he had any chance of catching up with them, it wouldn’t be so soon. They must have taken a long break for some reason.

  But now Neville’s driver was climbing atop the carriage as if they were about to leave…

  Adrian leapt from his horse, calling out to the driver to wait. Then he strode to the carriage. The curtains were drawn so he could not see inside the coach. He grabbed the handle and yanked the door open.

  Inside, on the left, was Sir Neville. And opposite him, her eyes wide with shock, was Madeline.

  23

  A few seconds passed before Adrian could believe the sight before him. Relief at not finding Anna with Sir Neville was quickly replaced with fury at her stepsister. And at Sir Neville.

  “What on earth are you doing?” Adrian said, finally finding his voice. “Madeline, get out of the carriage.”

  Madeline stared at him for a few seconds before she took his hand. Adrian practically dragged
her out of the coach. Her fingers trembled in his grip.

  Sir Neville stepped out after her and motioned for his driver to step down. The driver discreetly exited on the other side of the coach and disappeared from view.

  Adrian tried to draw Madeline farther away, but she tugged her hand free and moved to Sir Neville’s side.

  Adrian cursed under his breath and glared at Sir Neville. “What happened?” he said quietly, looking back at Madeline. “Did he coerce you?”

  “No,” Madeline said. “He did not.” She met Adrian’s gaze. “I…deceived him.”

  “What?” Adrian said.

  “I sent him an urgent message to meet me here,” she said, “but I did not say why. And when I asked him to run away to Scotland, he said no. He convinced me not to act so imprudently.” She looked up at Sir Neville, smiling foolishly. “He is too honorable.” Sir Neville gazed down at her with an equally foolish grin.

  “Why?” Adrian resisted the urge to tear her away from Sir Neville. He could tell that she spoke the truth; he simply didn’t wish to believe it. “Why would you do such a thing?”

  She turned and met his gaze. “I did it so you and Anna could marry as soon as possible.”

  “Madeline—”

  “I heard you argue yesterday.” She flushed. “I did not intend to eavesdrop, but I was in the garden and...” She curled her hands into fists. “I know I am the reason she has been unable to marry all these years, and I am the reason she will not marry you now. But you must marry, and not just because...” She blushed again. Evidently, she’d heard enough to realize that Anna had been fully compromised. “I cannot bear to keep her from happiness again.”

  Adrian shook his head. “She would not want you to marry for this reason.”

  “Why not? I am fond of Sir Neville.” She glanced at him again, smiling. “And Anna made it clear that she would never have him.”

  Had she? Adrian pushed aside the pleasure he felt at that news. He could still barely believe what Madeline had almost done.

  He would decide how to resolve this situation later. As if he didn’t already have enough to contend with at the moment. Like Anna.

  Would she be home when he returned? Her maid believed that Anna had left the manor early that morning. If not with Sir Neville, where had she gone?

  “Madeline,” Adrian said, “where is Anna?”

  “She told me last night,” Madeline said, looking nervous, “but made me promise not to say until she was gone.”

  “She has been gone for hours,” Adrian said.

  “Yes, well since it concerns you both...” She glanced at Sir Neville before meeting Adrian’s gaze again. “I may as well tell you now. She went to see Miss Howe.”

  Miss Howe? Of course. To ask her about Edmund, presumably.

  Sir Neville’s eyes widened, but he seemed to quickly compose himself.

  “But she refused to tell me why,” Madeline added. She glanced between Adrian and Sir Neville, clearly hoping one of them might provide an answer.

  Adrian had no wish to discuss Miss Howe with Sir Neville, let alone speak of the matter in front of Madeline.

  “We are going home this instant,” Adrian said. “Come, Madeline.”

  Madeline nodded. She turned to Sir Neville, leaned close, and whispered something. He smiled. He lifted her hand and placed a kiss on her gloved fingers.

  “Now, Madeline,” Adrian growled.

  Sir Neville might have behaved with honor by refusing to elope with her, but the way he looked at Madeline now suggested his affections had switched from one sister to the other rather abruptly. The day had been full of too many surprises, and it was enough to make Adrian’s head spin. He would have to sort this all out later. At this moment he just wanted to take Madeline home and then find Anna.

  “You should take her in my carriage,” Sir Neville said, glancing toward Adrian’s horse. “I will ride your mare back if you like.”

  Gracious, as usual.

  Still, Adrian wanted to refuse. But it made sense. Arranging for a hired coach could take some time. The sooner they were back home, the better.

  Their journey back to Wareton was almost entirely silent for the first hour.

  Adrian studied Madeline across the carriage. He’d liked his cousin from the moment he came to Wareton, but her actions today made him see her in an entirely new light. Beneath her sweet, gentle exterior, there was a tenacity that surprised him. And what she’d been willing to do for Anna amazed him. He’d thought Madeline was the sweet, biddable one, but she was turning out to be nearly as much trouble as her stepsister.

  “I am sorry for all the trouble I caused,” Madeline said abruptly, as if she sensed his thoughts. “But I was only trying to make things right. So much of this is my fault.”

  “It is not,” he said.

  “It is. I know my grandfather was cruel in what he did, but… Years ago, when I learned Anna had found a gentleman who might make her happy and would take her away from me, I was frightened. I told my grandfather that I didn’t want her to leave, and that is why he trapped her with me.”

  “You were only a child.” He understood now why Anna had been so reluctant to tell Madeline the truth.

  “I was twelve,” she said, “old enough to not be so selfish.”

  “You are too hard on yourself. The old earl would have probably done the same no matter how you behaved.”

  “Anna has spent nearly half her life caring for me,” she said, her voice cracking, “and she has already lost six years she never should have, and a man she cared about, and now she will not marry you because of it.”

  “That may not be why,” he said softly.

  Madeline shook her head. “She said because of the settlement, and now I understand why. I went to see the solicitor yesterday and persuaded him to share the details with me. I wanted to be certain before I acted.

  “Of course, she would wish to wait for such a fortune,” she continued. “And since that is what stands in your way, there are two alternatives.” She sat up straight and folded her hands in her lap. “Either I marry right away, or else you can accept my word that once I am married I will return the money to her. To you both.”

  Adrian smiled. “You cannot make such a promise, Madeline. Your husband might not agree to it.”

  “I shall not marry anyone who won’t,” she said, lifting her head higher. “I’ll not take Anna’s money in addition to everything else I’ve taken from her.”

  “It is not your fault,” he said. “None of it. And no matter what you heard her say, her refusal is not really about the money.”

  Madeline frowned, her green eyes wide. “But then why?”

  “Because she wants to marry for love.”

  “Then that must mean...” She leaned forward. “But you must marry her now, even if she doesn’t w—” She flushed and glanced down at her hands. Even if she doesn’t want to marry you, she’d likely been about to say.

  Adrian’s gut tightened. He’d been trying not to think about the possibility that no matter what, Anna might simply not want to be his wife.

  24

  Anna stared out at the countryside, her gaze following the stone wall that edged the road. Her stomach churned with each bump and rattle of the carriage.

  She’d barely eaten anything yesterday and nothing this morning. The hackney she’d paid a neighbor to quietly arrange for had been waiting at the end of the main road to the manor at dawn, just as she’d asked. The driver had hesitated when he realized she was traveling alone, but when she promised him extra payment, he’d snapped his mouth shut and helped her into the closed carriage.

  Hopefully Madeline had kept her word not to tell anyone where she was headed until she was well on her way. She had no doubt that Adrian would be furious if he knew. But she must learn the truth from Julia Howe. If she could prove that Mr. Sinclair was innocent, the brothers could reconcile. Perhaps then Adrian might also begin to forgive himself for his past.

  Her heart a
ched every time she thought of how they’d argued yesterday. When she’d refused him, he’d seemed so upset that she’d almost believed she’d hurt more than his ego and sense of honor by refusing him, that she’d actually affected his heart.

  Foolish, wishful thinking. His anxiety over the match, and his wanting to marry without even telling the family, proved his true feelings. He wanted to marry her out of duty, not love.

  The carriage slowed when they reached the village of Easton, where Adrian had said Julia resided. The driver soon learned from a helpful shopkeeper that Mrs. Jameson lived a short ride from the center of town.

  The closer Anna drew to Julia’s, the better she felt. Julia might be lonely, isolated from her old friends and living under a false name. She might be pleased to see Anna and relieved to speak the truth to someone. Perhaps Julia would even confirm Mr. Sinclair’s innocence.

  One question gnawed at Anna. But if Mr. Sinclair wasn’t guilty, why had Julia accused him? Perhaps because of his reputation, knowing she’d be believed, and he would likely be forced to care for her? Still, it seemed an odd coincidence that of all the gentlemen in London, Julia blamed a man connected to her neighbor’s family. Then again, life was full of such strange happenings.

  At the end of a road bordered by pastures, the carriage turned down a long drive. Anna peered out the window, startled by the size of Julia’s home. It was larger than she’d expected, looking more like a home an earl would provide for a favored mistress than for an illegitimate niece.

  The carriage came to a stop before a wide stairway that led up to the front doors. She paid the driver and made her way up the stairs. Once inside, she gave her name to a maid, who quickly returned to say Mrs. Jameson was not well enough to accept callers.

  Anna didn’t believe it for an instant.

  “Tell Mrs. Jameson that I will not leave until I have spoken with her.”

  A few minutes later she was escorted not to a sitting room, but to a small flower garden behind the house. She did not have to wait long for Julia to appear. Julia stepped out through a doorway and stopped several paces away. Her arms were crossed at her chest, wrapped in a dark green shawl that perfectly matched her fashionable muslin gown.