English Lord on Her Doorstep

by Marion Lennox

  She was stuck in his car. She was forced to listen.

  ‘Charlie, I needed you to come,’ Bryn was saying. ‘Back in Australia this place would have seemed a dream to you, or, more likely, a nightmare. I knew you’d see it as part of the fraud. But I need you to see it as it really is. It’s just...home.’

  ‘You have to be kidding. How can this be home?’

  ‘Believe it or not, it is,’ he told her and his smile returned. It was a gentle smile, though. She was reminded suddenly of the way he’d treated Flossie that first night. An injured creature... Was that how he saw her?

  ‘I only use one wing of this place,’ he told her. ‘I moved in to keep Grandpa company. Mum lives in the dower house.’

  ‘The dower house!’

  ‘Believe it or not, we have one,’ he said. ‘That’s what I’m asking you to believe.’

  ‘You’ve lived here for ever?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But the scam...’

  ‘Can I tell you about it?’

  She glared. She crossed her arms across her breast and concentrated on glaring. ‘Yes,’ she snapped and a rueful smile lit his eyes. But then he started talking and the smile died.

  ‘My uncle Thomas was, well, wild is maybe too kind a word for it,’ he told her. ‘Even when he was small he hated the farm. His life’s been a constant of gambling, cheating, lying, living far above his means. My grandfather’s always been more than generous but he’s squandered everything he’s been given. We haven’t seen him for years. But last year he came to visit. He’d heard Grandpa was failing and wanted to see him. We let him stay because how could we not? But he badgered Grandpa for more money. There’d be money in Grandpa’s will but he wanted it then. It seems he was in trouble with money-lenders—which might be the reason he ended up in Australia. But by then Grandpa was confused, too ill to respond, and I ended up hauling him bodily out of the bedroom. He spent the night abusing me, he got drunk on Grandpa’s best whisky and then he passed out.

  ‘The next morning he still seemed asleep so I left him to go check on the cattle. When I came back he was gone. It wasn’t until the police contacted us that we realised he’d rifled the office, stealing empty semen packs, literature, the things we’d ordered in bulk when the herd started being recognised. He’d been careful to only steal enough so we wouldn’t notice.’

  ‘But...’ She was still having trouble getting her voice to work. ‘It doesn’t...it doesn’t matter. You told me lies.’ She was holding desperately to her indignation. It seemed the only thing she had to cling to.

  ‘I told no lies,’ he said strongly. ‘Not one. I’m a farmer, Charlie, first and foremost. I have boots and wellies and battered rain hats in the mud room. I have sheds full of farm gear, calving equipment, everything I need to make this place work.’

  ‘But you’re a baron.’

  ‘You think I like that?’ Unexpected anger blazed, his eyes darkening to almost black. ‘You think I want it? My uncle was always supposed to inherit, and my cousin after him. Next in line was my father. And they all died and I was left. Even then there was my grandfather, the real Lord Carlisle. He’s the only person I can think of when I think of the title. He was a kindly, gentle man, bereft from his losses, and while his death was expected it’s still left me gutted. So, yes, Charlie, I’m a baron, but it took four deaths of people I loved for me to become one. So if you think that’s an occasion for joy, for shouting to the rooftops that I’m the new Lord Carlisle—’

  He broke off, seemingly drained, but still searching for words. ‘And then there was my uncle Thomas,’ he said wearily. ‘He took my family’s legacy and he smirched it. So the title...who wants it? Not me. You ask why I didn’t tell you? Yes, I thought it might stop you coming but, at a deeper level, it’s not who I am. If that’s who you thought me, I’d be pulling you here on false pretences.’

  She thought about that, or she tried to think. The muddle in her head couldn’t be untangled.

  His grief...

  Don’t go there. She had enough of her own to handle.

  ‘So first you say if you told me I might not have come, and now you say I might have come because you’re a baron?’ she managed. He might be angry but she was angry too. And confused. He had his reasons, but he had deceived...

  And she was in so much trouble. His smile, his explanation, the way he made her heart seem to twist.

  But she couldn’t be sucked in. Not again. This was so foreign to her, so crazy, so...unreal.

  It was unreal, she thought, staring again along the avenue towards the Hall. Sure, this man told a good story and it might even be true, but to trust him... If she let herself be driven down this avenue, if the great doors opened and closed behind her...

  The feeling of being trapped was almost overwhelming.

  She wasn’t being reasonable—she knew she wasn’t—but the betrayals of the past were all around her. Her parents. The smooth-talking liar who’d been her husband. Thomas...

  ‘Bryn, I need to go home.’ Somehow she steadied, and for a moment she felt a flash of pride that she’d managed to set the hysteria aside. ‘I’m sorry.’ She took a deep breath and turned to him, facing him square on. ‘You...you’ve been wonderful. Crazily wonderful. You’ve done such a lot for me and you’re offering to do more. What you’ve just said... I’m sorry but I can’t be part of it.’ She took a deep breath and struggled to explain further, for he deserved an explanation. She had to believe him enough to try.

  ‘Bryn, my husband walked out on me two years ago,’ she told him. ‘Our marriage was never good but at least I trusted him. I was a fool. Then Grandma...she was good at trusting as well. Even my mum... She trusted my dad and his betrayal drove her out of the country. She’s hardly been back.’

  ‘You’re still saying I’m like that?’ The anger was still in his voice and she flinched. But she had to keep trying. She had to make him see.

  ‘No, Bryn, I’m not.’ She was trying to get it right in her own mind. ‘But I don’t know you. This...’ She waved towards the Hall, and out over the land to the distant hills. ‘This has been a shock but I think I needed that shock. Because I was about to jump again.’

  ‘Into trusting.’

  ‘Into loving,’ she whispered. ‘And that’s the scariest of all.’

  There was a long pause. A very long pause.

  ‘You think you might love me?’ he asked at last. It wasn’t spoken like a lover. Anger still resonated.

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Can’t doesn’t mean you don’t.’

  ‘Can’t means I have to pull back. Bryn, it’s too soon, too crazy, too unreal. I’ve been out of control for too long and sitting here staring at your gorgeous house, thinking of your life, even your trauma, I’m thinking here I go again, jumping into trust... Bryn, please, I need to go home. The animals aren’t due to fly out until tomorrow. I can cancel their flights. Please don’t stop me. I need to do it.’

  ‘What will you do with the dogs?’ Anger had been replaced with weariness.

  ‘I have no idea,’ she said honestly. ‘But the worst-case scenario is the refuges and at least there they’ll be treated with kindness until...’

  ‘Until they’re put down. You’d do that to them?’

  ‘How do I know what’ll happen to them here?’ she demanded, confusion almost overwhelming. ‘For all I know they’ll be used here as... I don’t know...fox bait?’

  ‘As if such a thing was possible. Even if it was... Do you really think I’d let that happen?’ Anger blazed, full force.

  She was being unreasonable, unfair. She knew she was, but she was past explaining.

  ‘No.’ She fought for control again, for reason. ‘Of course...of course I don’t. But I can’t...’

  ‘Trust.’

  ‘That’s right,’ she said wearily. ‘I’m sorry. But please
take me to the nearest transport back to the airport. I’ll repay you for the flights. When I can.’

  ‘There’s no need.’

  ‘There is a need.’ She closed her eyes, aware of a wash of fatigue so great it terrified her. Was she being stupid? Maybe she was, but there was nothing she could do about it. ‘Bryn, please.’

  ‘There’s nothing I can say?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  There was silence for a long time. She felt his frustration. More, she felt his anger. Because she couldn’t trust?

  It couldn’t matter, she thought. She had to find her feet again. Somehow.

  And Bryn knew it. He swore, very softly, and then he turned on the engine.

  ‘Okay, Charlie,’ he said bleakly. ‘Let’s get you back to the airport.’

  And then he paused. A car was pulling up behind them. A big white sedan, glistening in the morning sun.

  It had turned into the avenue a bit too fast and skidded to a halt as the driver realised the way was blocked. The driver’s door flew open and a woman emerged, little, buxom, dressed in an electric-blue frock, a startling pink jacket and heels that were far too high. Her silver white curls, piled into a messy knot, were embellished with streaks of the same electric blue as her frock and she came running towards the car with a beam a mile wide.

  ‘Oh, help,’ Bryn said.

  ‘Help?’

  ‘If you thought you were trapped before,’ Bryn muttered, ‘heaven help you now, but you’re about to meet my mother.’

  * * *

  ‘Charlie!’

  Normally when Bryn met his mother after an absence his reaction was to flinch. And then brace.

  His mother was, to say the least, full-on.

  Those meeting her for the first time might have said Alice Morgan was eccentric and maybe she was. Her eccentricity, however, was a shield. He knew it. The loss of her husband and her daughter had almost destroyed her but somehow she carried on. She faced the day with a beam a mile high, and her warmth and generosity were legion. So instead of bracing right now, Bryn climbed out of the vehicle to deflect her from diving right in to hug Charlie. And as he did he found himself hoping...

  When all else fails, bring in the big guns.

  His mother.

  ‘Is she here?’ She tugged back from him and peered into the car’s interior. And saw Charlie. ‘Charlotte...’ Her beam turned full on as she headed for the passenger side of the vehicle.

  Charlie emerged to meet her, looking stunned.

  What had he done to her?

  Alice was enveloping as much as she could into an embrace. Charlie wasn’t big but his mother was tiny. Bryn came from a family of big men, and they’d been the ones to pass on their genes. His mother’s genes of little, blonde and bubbly were all hers.

  ‘Dear girl... He wouldn’t let me ring you,’ Alice was saying. ‘I wanted to, to tell you how welcome you were, but Bryn said it’d be pressure on you to come and it wasn’t fair. A two-week holiday? How wonderful. And he did pass my message on about the dogs? That they’re so welcome? And so are you. You did know that, didn’t you?’

  ‘I...yes, I did.’ Charlie was still being hugged but Alice had pulled back a little and looked at her critically.

  ‘Oh, my dear, you look exhausted. Those awful aeroplanes. I went on one once. Ugh.’

  ‘You flew to Edinburgh for Great Aunt Edith’s eightieth,’ Bryn said mildly. ‘You were in the air for an hour.

  ‘Totally discombobulating,’ Alice agreed. ‘I had jet lag for weeks. What you need is a nice bath and some tea and then a sleep. Bryn hoped you might be staying at the Hall but honestly, dear, it’s a cavern. You could fit a family into every bedroom. The dower house is much cosier. I think the peony room. I’ve just had new curtains hung—isn’t that lucky?’

  ‘Mum, Charlie’s not staying,’ Bryn said and that brought silence.

  Alice paused and her eyes did a thorough search. On the surface Alice Morgan might appear to be bubble and fluff but underneath there was piercing intelligence. She was looking at Charlie now and Bryn knew she’d be seeing the exhaustion, but beyond that... The shock. The fear.

  ‘Oh, my dear, what’s happening?’ She wheeled about to face Bryn. Accusing. ‘She’s scared. Charlotte’s scared. Why?’

  He held up his hands in defence. His mother was all accusation. ‘I just... I might not have told her how big the Hall was.’

  ‘Or that he was a baron,’ Charlie whispered. She gestured helplessly at the amazing avenue and the miles of lush farmland stretching to the mountains beyond. ‘Or any of this. I thought... I thought he was a farmer.’

  ‘And so he is a farmer,’ Alice said roundly. ‘A foolish one, though. Bryn... Are you mad? The first time I saw it I almost had a palsy stroke. Come and meet my family, your father told me, and we ended up here. For high tea. With a butler, even! Thank heaven we don’t do that any more but this place is still enough to scare a girl out of her senses.’ She turned back to Charlie. ‘You have to grant that my son’s heart’s in the right place, though. It always has been. When he rang and said we were adopting seven dogs—’

  ‘But you’re not adopting,’ Charlie said helplessly. ‘He said...you were organising homes...’

  ‘I guess we are,’ Alice told her. ‘Homes here. Did he show you the paper we had to sign that said we had no intention of getting rid of them? That’s the immigration rules. We need to bring them in as personal pets. I had to sign too, because there’s restrictions on numbers. Not that I mind. The dogs here have a very good time and...’ she waved an inclusive hand ‘...we appear to have enough room. But enough. Why is Bryn saying you’re going home?’

  ‘Because I don’t trust him,’ she said wildly. ‘All of this...’ And she wheeled on him. ‘The dogs...advertising...you said...’

  ‘It was what I thought,’ Bryn said apologetically. ‘It was only when I downloaded the formal papers I realised. But it doesn’t matter, Charlie. We have many tenant farmers who may wish to take on a dog with such a story and if they don’t, then, as Mum says, we have plenty of room.’

  ‘You didn’t tell me.’

  ‘And he should have.’ Alice put her hands on her hips and glared. ‘Why didn’t you?’

  ‘I wanted Charlie to come,’ he said simply. ‘Charlie, I couldn’t risk you not coming.’

  ‘It was so important?’ his mother demanded.

  There was a pause. He met Charlie’s look full on. She was looking bewildered, angry...so many emotions. He wanted to gather her and hold her but the time for that wasn’t now.

  The anger he’d been feeling had faded. There was only Charlie and there was time only for a simple truth.

  ‘It was so important,’ he said gently. ‘It was the most important thing I’ve ever wanted in my life. That you come.’

  * * *

  She was so confused.

  Where did she take it from here?

  In a romance novel this should have been the happy ending. If she took one step forward she knew she’d be enfolded in his arms, cherished, held...

  Held.

  There was the rub. Held?

  How could she risk being held?

  Her heart said it wasn’t a risk at all, but her heart had betrayed her before, as her mother’s heart had betrayed her, as had Grandma’s heart. Trust was such a fragile thing and the consequences of it failing were enormous.

  He’d lied to get her here. Or...okay, he hadn’t lied but he might as well have. He’d deceived by omission. Leaving out the bits that’d scare her.

  She was so bewildered, so tired, so...

  ‘Let her be, Bryn.’ Alice edged between Charlie and Bryn, doing her best to block out Charlie’s view of Bryn—hard given that Bryn was over six feet tall and Alice was barely five. In heels. But she was insisting that Charlie’s focus had to be on her. ‘You nee
d to leave everything aside,’ she said. ‘Everything that Thomas has done to you and everything that my son has said or not said, or done or not done. Bottom line? Bryn tells me that seven dogs are booked to arrive here in three days’ time and two cows a little time after. Yes or no? Bryn?’

  ‘Yes,’ Bryn told her.

  Alice nodded. ‘There you go. I’ve seen the documentation. Charlie, do you believe that’s happening?’

  ‘I...yes.’ She was having trouble getting her voice to work.

  ‘That’s a start,’ Alice said. ‘So right now you don’t need to trust any further. Here’s the suggestion. Forget my son for a while.’

  ‘Forget...

  ‘He has plenty to do without bothering you,’ Alice told her. ‘For the next few days, come and stay with me, in the dower house. Bryn can leave you alone. He can spend a bit of time reflecting on his folly and think about what he’s going to do about it, but that’s up to him. What I suggest you do now is rest. A long, hot bath, Charlotte, and don’t tell me you don’t want one. I can see it from here. Aeroplanes are horrible and Bryn says you’ll have been exhausted before you left. Then you can spend a few days pottering around the estate, doing a lot more resting. In three days we’ll receive the dogs. Bryn will collect them from the airport and get the paperwork sorted.’

  ‘I will,’ Bryn said helpfully from behind his mother.

  Charlie thought, Is that laughter back in his voice? She cast him a suspicious glance but he was back to being bland again. And...concerned.

  The concern seemed such a part of him. An intrinsic part of who he was.

  Dared she trust it?

  ‘Just do it,’ he said now, gently. ‘Charlie, let my mother take over for a while. You don’t need to trust. You just need to take your bath and potter and let events unfold.’

  ‘I can stay in a B&B,’ she said, feeling foolish.

  ‘You can,’ Bryn said and that smile was definitely back in his eyes. ‘That’s a step better than going all the way back to Australia. But Mum has a guest bathroom to die for and she’s aching for a guest. Isn’t that right, Mum?’