“You will have to ask Mr. Farnley that. Alex, I was worried about her. I know what it’s like to be left alone in charge of wealth, and she’s so young. She will have no experience in dealing with fortune hunters.”
“The old goat left her all his land? I’m not certain whether that proves his stupidity or his intelligence. Surely he must have known the child wasn’t his.” Alex sighed and ran his hand through his hair as he contemplated all the complications involved. “I can’t go after her right now, Evelyn. It’s imperative that I keep battering away at some of these hardheaded Tories until they see the light.”
“I know,” Evelyn whispered against his ear, twining her long leg with his. “And I love you for that too. See how fickle I am? I even love you when you’re contrary. According to Mr. Farnley, the vicar and his wife broke the news to her already. She trusts them, and he thought that would be best. She agreed that it might be in her best interests to leave the farm for a while. They’re already on their way here.”
“Oh, God.” He groaned and closed his eyes and tried not to imagine this new invasion into his hitherto quiet life. “What in hell do I say to her? ‘Hello, bastard, where’ve you been all these years?’ Evelyn, this is an impossible situation.”
“Nothing is impossible,” she announced, slithering off him and returning to her own pillow. “She is halfway between an adult and a child and frightened out of her wits. If I am any judge of Hampton behavior at all, she will react with anger.”
Alex caught her hand and held it. “People respect anger. They don’t respect the weaker emotions.”
“People are fools. Love is the strongest emotion of all. Those who dare to love risk everything. Even an infant can show anger. There is simply no comparison as far as I can see.”
“And how will you tell that to a fourteen-year-old child who has just discovered that her father isn’t her father, that her real father is a self-centered bastard who’s ignored her all these years?”
“Very gently.”
Alex snorted, rolled over, and buried his face against the sweet scent of her hair. “Tell me again, love. Tell me how strong I must be so I don’t resort to anger and strangle you in your sleep. And say it gently.”
Evelyn laughed low in her throat and wrapped her arms reassuringly around him. “I love you, and you may strangle me all you want, after you make love to me. If you have the strength.”
Chapter 32
The carriage arrived in the afternoon while Alex was still out. Already informed of the impending arrival, Deirdre clasped Evelyn’s hand reassuringly. “You have done the right thing, Evelyn. Let us not stand on ceremony but go to meet them. It will have been a difficult journey.”
“Do you think we should send word to Alex? I know he is eager to see her even if he is terrified of her hatred. Tell me, Deirdre, I am all a-dither and cannot think.”
Deirdre smiled affectionately. “I’ll send someone to look for Alex while you greet our guests. He can do as he wishes when he hears the news.”
“Let us hope he does not wish to get drunk,” Evelyn responded grimly as she started for the hallway. “Right now I can understand the temptation.”
Deirdre’s laugh followed her into the confusion of the wide entry hall. Servants were scurrying about carrying bags and parcels and icy cloaks and hats while the newcomers gaped at their surroundings and reluctantly surrendered the protection of their outer garments piece by piece.
While their attention was distracted, Evelyn studied her newly discovered stepdaughter. The girl stood aside from the nervous vicar and his wife, staring up at the murals ascending the stairway to the magnificent skylight. She was tall, nearly as tall as Evelyn already, and she wore her thick black hair unbound and cascading down her back. Her complexion had more color than her cousin Alyson’s, but it was not the ruddy, weathered look of a farmer’s daughter so much as a golden hue of striking attractiveness. When she realized she was observed and turned to meet Evelyn’s gaze, Evelyn nearly gasped at the beauty of the long-lashed dark eyes greeting her—Alex’s eyes.
Evelyn loved her instantly, if only for the eyes. Hurrying forward, she clasped the girl’s cold fingers between her own. The girl could scarcely be considered a child any longer. Both face and body revealed a maturity unusual for one of such a tender age. No wonder the vicar worried for her safety. She possessed an awkward grace, as if not yet accustomed to her new status as woman. Her gaze flickered with childish uncertainty, but she quickly masked it with indifference as she removed her hand.
Evelyn made no fuss, but turned to greet the girl’s elderly chaperons. “I am Lady Cranville, and you must be the Granthams. I’m so happy to meet you at last. Won’t you please come in by the fire? It must have been a terrible journey, but we are so grateful that you could make it.”
Talking to disguise her nervousness, she led their guests to the small family parlor where Deirdre waited. The Granthams replied reservedly to her steady stream of questions. Their protégée said nothing.
Evelyn introduced the Granthams to Deirdre. When she came to Alex’s daughter, she drew her forward. “And this, of course is Elizabeth Margaret. How are you called at home, Elizabeth? Beth? Bess?”
“Margaret, just like my Grandmother Hampton, but she’s not a Hampton any longer, is she? They call her Lady Barton now.”
The girl’s cool address left Evelyn momentarily nonplussed, but Deirdre took it in stride. She gestured for their guests to take seats. “Your father’s mother never was a Hampton except briefly by name. It was considerate of your mother to share part of your heritage with you. Lady Barton still resides in the area, then?”
The vicar replied when the girl did not. “Oh, yes, my lady. She has been the baronet’s wife these many years past, and a strong supporter of the church. She is an invalid, however. We seldom see her in the village.”
Evelyn had not considered the possibility that Alex’s mother was still alive. He had never mentioned her since that night at the inn, and no one else had ever offered any indication of her existence. What a strange family this was. No wonder Alex was reluctant to divulge much of his past.
Tea and hot chocolate were brought in with a selection of biscuits and cakes meant to appease the appetite until a proper meal could be prepared. Evelyn watched as Margaret sipped at the rich chocolate. The girl continued to study her surroundings, occasionally coming back to Evelyn as the difficulty of travel in winter was discussed.
“When you are warm, perhaps I could show you to your room.” Evelyn said to the girl. “A few months ago I was as much a stranger here as you are now, and I still find the place a trifle overwhelming. I tried to find a room you might feel comfortable in, but we can always look for a better one when we explore the house.”
The girl’s gaze was hostile. “You are the one who sent for me, aren’t you? Why? Can you not have children of your own?”
The question was brutally direct and all Hampton. Evelyn’s lips quirked upward. “If your father were in your place, he would have asked the same thing. I think Hamptons are born suspicious, except your cousin Alyson, of course. I cannot answer your questions as easily as they are asked, and I will warn you now that while your father can be just as blunt, he also takes offense as easily as you. Your question would have offended him.”
“Then he shall just have to send me back where I came from. I’ve done without him quite nicely all these years.”
Margaret appeared unperturbed, but Evelyn could see how tightly she clenched the fragile cup before she set it back on the tray.
“You have done well because you had another father who loved you all these years,” Evelyn said gently. “How is your mother taking this?”
The girl shrugged. “She is happy and already entertaining other gentleman callers. She never argued when Reverend Grantham named me a bastard, although he did it in much politer terms.”
The news that the father she knew wasn’t her real father must have broken the child’s heart.
&
nbsp; “You have a name,” Evelyn corrected. “You’re not a bastard. Someday, perhaps your father will tell you the story, but in the meantime I will not allow anyone, not even you, to call you by that term. If you are done, let us go see your bedroom.”
Evelyn rose and held out her hand. The others turned to watch anxiously as Margaret hesitated, but a child’s curiosity won out over the more adult bitterness. Scorning the offered hand, she rose and followed Evelyn from the room.
They were coming back down the stairs when a furor in the front hall erupted. Alex’s booming, furious voice was unmistakable. A woman’s high-pitched whining was not so easily recognizable.
“You cannot do this to me, Alexander! It’s a public disgrace. How could you? All these years we’ve ignored the embarrassing rumors until they were all but forgotten. And now you do this! You cannot publicly acknowledge a bastard, Alexander! It is simply not done. I will be the laughingstock of the community. How will I hold my head up when I go out?”
“My daughter is not a bastard, madam!” Alex’s words thundered through the hall like fireworks. “If you should so name her again, I will forbid you this house or any other that belongs to me or mine. You chose your life, and I have made what I could of mine without you. I do not need your commands at this late date.”
Alex’s mother was here?
Evelyn watched as Margaret’s fingers gripped the banister with such force her knuckles whitened. It wasn’t the manner in which Evelyn would prefer to introduce father and daughter, but it was typical. Placing her hand on the girl’s shoulder, she gestured toward the stairs. They couldn’t remain here to eavesdrop.
“Oh, my, I don’t think I can bear it! Alexander, I feel faint. Help me to the sofa. That my own son should speak to me so . . .” the voice wailed upward as Evelyn and Margaret proceeded down.
“Burton, help my mother to that chair. She will be leaving shortly. Where is my wife?” Alex spoke briskly, callously dismissing his mother’s vapors.
Evelyn reached the foyer with her arm still across Margaret’s shoulders. With curiosity, she observed the small woman in flowing fur-lined cloak dramatically press the back of her hand to her forehead. “I am here, husband,” Evelyn called with a smile, interrupting the histrionics.
The lady dropped the pose.
Alex almost looked relieved at Evelyn’s approach, until he noted her companion. His face froze into his perpetual mask.
“I do so love happy family reunions, Alex,” Evelyn said, concealing a smile at his dumbstruck expression. “Would you introduce me to your mother? And I would like to make you acquainted with your daughter, Margaret.”
The silence was deafening. Margaret met the gaze of her large, furious father, but she did not run and flee. Grateful for that, Evelyn squeezed her shoulders.
Alex didn’t take his gaze off his daughter. “Mother, Lady Barton, this is my wife, Evelyn, and my daughter, Margaret, who for some odd reason has been named after you. Her mother never did have much sense.”
“Alex!” Evelyn remonstrated. She released Margaret to hold out her hand to Lady Barton. “So pleased to meet you, my lady. Would you come in and have some tea? Lady Cranville and the Granthams are there, and we will be much cozier by the fire.”
“I will not come anywhere where that . . . that urchin is welcome.” Lady Barton withheld her hand, turning her glare to her son and ignoring her daughter-in-law and granddaughter. “I am not at all well, Alexander. I demand to be shown a room at once.”
Alex and his daughter were still regarding each other warily. At his mother’s whining demands, he sent her a brief look of irritation. “Say hello to my wife and daughter first. Then I will send someone to help you to a room.”
Evelyn noted the ghost of a smile crossing Margaret’s face as she stared at the woman who must have scorned her all her life. It seemed odd to Evelyn that grandmother and granddaughter could live in the same small village and never meet on equal terms, but the terms had changed now. The girl’s chin lifted an inch higher when her grandmother glared at her in horror.
The older woman took the only way out. She moaned, closed her eyes, and swooned.
Alex inelegantly caught her with one arm and passed her to a footman. “Find a dungeon somewhere to keep her in. She’ll recover soon enough.” Then he turned to wife and daughter and offered both arms. “It’s damn cold in here. Shall we?”
Delight danced in Margaret’s dark eyes as she took her father’s arm. Amused, Evelyn took the other, merely checking to watch that his mother was carried safely away to the upper stories. The lady had made her choice. So be it.
Deirdre and the Granthams exclaimed with happiness as Alex entered with wife and daughter on either arm. The truce might be a temporary one brought about by a common enemy, but it was a much better start than could have been anticipated. Beaming with relief, the Granthams reassured themselves of their charge’s well-being, and hastily exited.
Evelyn filled in the awkwardness of their departure by discussing the changes Margaret might prefer in the bedchamber she had just seen. Alex sat in his chair, watching his only child with an unreadable expression. The two were so obviously father and daughter that Evelyn had to swallow a lump in her throat several times while she spoke.
When a lull fell in the feminine conversation, Alex intruded cautiously. “Margaret, we were told that you would prefer to attend a finishing school for your education. Is this so?”
Twisting her glove, Margaret didn’t reply immediately but composed her words first. “I had thought to learn to be a governess, but with Papa gone, I suppose that’s not necessary. Are there schools to teach me how to run a farm?”
Alex continued studying her. “I would be better off if there were. Somehow, I have to learn to run my estates in Cornwall now that my cousin is gone. The task looks quite formidable. Perhaps by the time you are old enough to operate the farm on your own, I will know enough to teach you. In the meantime, perhaps you would like to attend a school where you might learn French and etiquette and whatever it is that they teach in those places.”
Evelyn suspected the girl’s mention of running the farm had been thrown out as a challenge. That Alex didn’t dismiss it out of hand as so many men would have had left Margaret gaping. Before she could ruin the moment with typical Hampton wit, Evelyn intervened.
“Of course, your home will be here, Margaret. We could hire a tutor if you would prefer, but there aren’t many girls your age in the vicinity, and neither of us is familiar with the neighbors in Cornwall. It might be nice to meet other girls your age so you can have friends to bring home with you on the holidays. You don’t need to decide immediately. We just wish to see you safe and happy.”
Margaret stared pensively at her hands. “Why are you doing this?” she whispered.
Evelyn sat back and waited for Alex to answer. He shot her a helpless glare, but gave in and took on the task of explaining.
“I wanted to do this from the very beginning, Meg. I never meant to deny you. You will need to ask your mother about her decision to choose another father for you. Perhaps she made the right choice at the time. I was young when you were born and couldn’t have cared for you as I ought. In case no one has informed you, I have not been a model of exemplary behavior. Let us just say it is past time that we got to know each other. I am proud of how well you’ve turned out, but I’d like to have a small part in helping you become all that you can be. Perhaps someday, when you become a parent, you’ll understand that.”
The girl raised her head defiantly. “I don’t intend to marry and have babies. I’ll teach other people’s children and run my life the way I want to do it!”
Alex and Evelyn exchanged glances of mutual understanding and a hint of laughter. It was Alex who replied. “Fine with me, chit. Now, let’s go dress before I starve to death.”
There were at least ten thousand other subjects to be addressed sometime in the near future, but the most important had been settled. Margaret would be staying.
Evelyn took the girl’s hand and kissed Alex’s cheek.
“I love you,” she whispered, and he looked quite pleased with himself as he watched them go. Evelyn’s heart pounded with the pleasure of knowing she had done something right, even if she was an interfering shrew.
That night when they prepared for bed, Alex was unusually inattentive, and Evelyn watched him with worry. When he drew his hand through her hair, she rested her palm against his chest and looked up to him inquiringly.
He responded almost wistfully. “She is very lovely, is she not?”
Evelyn’s heart skipped a beat. She began unfastening his shirt for him. “She looks just like you, Alex. She is so beautiful, I think I’m jealous.”
“Jealous?” He tugged her hair back to gaze down into her face. “What has got into your head now?”
Evelyn wrinkled her nose up. “She’s lovely and intelligent and in a few years she can do all the things for you that I can do: hostess your dinner parties, entertain the wives and daughters of your friends, and run the household and probably your estates. You won’t need me at all.”
Alex grinned and tugged her hair until she turned to meet his gaze. He brushed a kiss beside her mouth, traced another along her lips, and located the drawstring of her chemise. “Is that what I need you for? I didn’t know. I knew there must be some reason I took you for wife. I know I can’t sleep without you. And I have great difficulty breathing without you. And eating is quite out of the question if you’re not by my side. So I rather thought you were an aid to my health. And there is the matter of the great discomfort that occurs when I think of you wearing only a thin chemise, or a revealing ball gown, or a modest day dress, or only the bubbles in your bath. I have discovered you are the only relief for that discomfort, little tyrant. So I rather need you around a lot because I think of you a lot. And I suspect that means we may have a dozen daughters even more lovely than our Meg because you will be their mother, and I’d hoped you would stay long enough to help me bring them up. They’re bound to be a handful, I fear.”
Rebel Dreams Page 33