The Story of a Baron (The Sisters of the Aristocracy)

by Linda Rae Sande

  “Welcome back to civilization,” Grandby said, his comment directed to Harry.

  The Earl of Everly nodded. “Thank you. And your appearance is most timely, as I was just telling everyone here that my sister is well looked after during my lengthy absences,” he said.

  Grandby’s eyes narrowed a bit in annoyance. It wasn’t as if Harry Tennison had ever actually asked him to look after Lady Evangeline; Grandby had simply done so out a sense of duty to his goddaughter. “She is,” Grandby acknowledged with a nod. His gaze drifted to Jeffrey Althorpe, who seemed to straighten up suddenly when their eyes met. “She is, indeed,” Grandby added with a grin. He turned his attention back to Harry. “And before you leave on your next trip, I expect someone else will be seeing to her welfare on a daily basis.” With that, he gave a nod to the table in general. “I’m off for home to have dinner with my countess. Don’t stay out too late,” he said, his eyebrows waggling as if he knew they all probably would.

  It was obvious from the earl’s statement that Grandby had overheard Lord Everly’s original comment about someone watching over Evangeline. And, on top of that, no one at the table missed the earl’s meaning regarding Evangeline’s future, including Harry.

  The Earl of Everly stared after the earl, watching him as a footman saw to his coat and hat. Grandby expected him to have Evangeline settled in a marriage before he left for his next expedition.

  Jeffrey watched as the Earl of Grandby took his leave of White’s, all the while wondering if the earl had been aware that he and Lady Evangeline were meeting to read the book. He had never actually seen Grandby whilst he was with Evangeline, but, truth be told, he hadn’t been aware of anyone else when he was with her. It was if the rest of the world didn’t exist when they were sitting side-by-side. At least he could be assured that Grandby hadn’t paid witness to the indiscretions that had taken place that one night in the parlor, a night he had replayed in his mind every night and every morning since. During lunch and whilst he ate dinner, as well. Even now, the thought of Lady Evangeline had his cock at attention. And his heart feeling rather glad.

  Well, if Grandby intended for the chit to be married before Everly left on his next trip, Jeffrey realized he had better see to it he was the only one allowed to court her. For the idea of Evangeline with another man caused him to experience an emotion with which he was completely unfamiliar.

  Jealousy.

  Chapter 44

  A Godfather and His Wife

  Adele Grandby, Countess of Torrington, hurried into Worthington House. She divested herself of her umbrella and coat, their surfaces dampened by the thick morning fog. Had anyone else but Clarinda Fitzwilliam, Countess of Norwick, asked for her company on a walk in the park on such a suddenly inhospitable day, Adele would have politely declined. But Clare was her best friend and a widow for barely two days. If the day had remained sunny and bright, the poor woman wouldn’t have been allowed the outing.

  Milton Grandby appeared from the breakfast parlor. “There you are,” he said, glancing beyond her to see their butler hanging up her wet coat. “What were you doing out in this horrible weather?” he wondered, hurrying up to her to plant a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

  Because of her late husband’s hesitance to show the least bit of affection, other than behind bedchamber doors, and sometimes not even then, Adele welcomed her new husband’s amorous attentions.

  “Clare sent word she wanted to take a walk,” Adele replied. “It was a beautiful day just a couple of hours ago.”

  “It was cold,” Grandby countered, his brows furrowing.

  Adele shrugged, as if the weather hadn’t really mattered. “And then, after I left Clare at her coach, the fog suddenly rolled in.”

  The earl nodded, a look of sadness crossing his face as he thought about the new widow. She had truly loved her husband, the Earl of Norwick. “How is she?” he wondered in a whisper, taking Adele’s hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm. He headed them toward the breakfast parlor.

  “She’s ... heartbroken and a bit ... frightened,” Adele offered carefully, deciding not to tell her husband that the widow was also with child. As was she – Lady Evangeline’s observations had proven true – but she hadn’t yet decided how to tell Grandby that bit of news.

  “Frightened?” he repeated, his brows joining together to form a salt-and-pepper caterpillar across his forehead.

  “Of David’s brother, Daniel. Seems they had an awful row a few years ago. She’s afraid the man will evict her from Norwick House.”

  Grandby allowed his wife to precede him into the breakfast parlor. “Daniel won’t evict her,” he countered with a shake of his head. He pulled a chair out from the table and saw to it Adele was seated before a footman hurried into the room. “Coffee, tea, pastries ...” He turned to his wife and raised a brow. “Cake?”

  Adele regarded her husband with a wan smile. “Yes, cake,” she agreed, deciding she could indulge. She was eating for two and obviously already looking as if she did. At some point, she would have to have her modiste create a new wardrobe. “And what makes you say that?” she asked, surprised at her husband’s comment about Daniel Fitzwilliam.

  “Daniel loves Clare. He has since before David even met her,” Grandby replied as he took his seat across the small table. At his wife’s look of disbelief, the earl shrugged. “They’re identical twins. She didn’t know which one she was marrying.”

  Adele gave a snort of disbelief. “How can that be?” she countered, thinking Clarinda would be able to tell the difference between the two men. Twins usually had a feature or two that were a bit different.

  “Haven’t met Daniel yet, have you?” Grandby countered. “Clare probably spent ... maybe ... an hour all told being courted by those two. David didn’t even realize he wanted to marry her until after his brother had already proposed. He moved in, got the girl, and the rest, they say, is history.”

  Frowning at her husband’s claim, Adele shook her head. “His story, you mean,” she said with an arched eyebrow just as a maid delivered a tray with the tea service. A footman followed with a tray of biscuits and cake.

  Grandby arched an eyebrow in return. “Good one, my lady, but I stand by my story.” He helped himself to a Dutch biscuit. “Clare will still be Lady Norwick a year from now,” he claimed. “She’ll just be married to the other twin.”

  Pouring a cup of coffee for her husband and a cup of tea for herself, Adele realized she had done the right thing by recommending Clare give her brother-in-law the benefit of the doubt. Although she didn’t necessarily believe the countess would end up with the brother as a husband, she hoped they could at least be friends. “It was good of you to be the one to inform Clare,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “I never want to have to tell another goddaughter that her husband has died,” he said with a shake of his head. He’d been the one summoned to confirm the identity of the man who had broken his neck in a fall from his horse in Oxford Street. And once he’d done so, he had ridden straight to Norwick House to inform Clarinda that David had died. He rather doubted he would ever again be welcomed in her home after bringing such tragic news. He would see her again in a couple of days at the funeral, no doubt.

  Having been in Lady Norwick’s shoes only a few years ago, Adele understood some of what Clarinda was going through, somewhat only because she and Samuel Worthington were never in love. One of the early entrepreneurs of steam ships, her first husband had made a fortune – a fortune she had inherited upon his untimely death at the age of only forty. Then there had been one engagement prior to her meeting Grandby. James Weston had apparently been counting the days until she was out of mourning, beginning a courtship she found she welcomed because the man seemed so sincere in his attentions toward her. Once she learned Weston’s true intentions, however – he needed her fortune to pay off gambling debts and, pre
sumedly, to allow him to continue to gamble – she ended the engagement.

  When Grandby chose to escort her to all the society events last year, she was thrilled by the attentions of a man who usually chose much younger widows for the honor. At the end of the Season, she expected him to end their liaison much like he had done with every other widow he had ever escorted during an entire Season – with an expensive bauble and a parting kiss. Instead, Milton Grandby had asked for her hand in marriage and bestowed a rather large sapphire ring on her finger at the same time he was bestowing a rather long and luscious kiss on her open mouth.

  Good God! That kiss had shaken her to her toes.

  How could she say no? The man had his own fortune, and although he occasionally gambled, he didn’t do so to excess. Now that she had been married to him for nearly six months, she couldn’t imagine a life without him. Which reminded her of Lady Evangeline and her lack of a husband. “Has Lord Everly returned to these shores?” she asked suddenly.

  Grandby straightened in his chair, surprised by the question. “A couple of days ago,” he replied with a nod. “He was at White’s last night, in fact.”

  “Arranging a match for Evangeline, I hope?” Adele hinted, her eyebrow arched.

  The earl blinked. And blinked again. Even if Adele hadn’t brought up the subject, he would have at some point. Although Evangeline’s brother should have been seeing to a suitable match for her, he didn’t seem to be matchmaking the night before. “I think I may be able to arrange it on his behalf,” the earl hedged, his attention on something beyond Adele’s shoulder.

  “It’s past time the poor girl was settled,” Adele said as she leaned forward and helped herself to another cake. “She spends her days doing exquisite embroideries, but everyone in the ton thinks she’s a bluestocking,” the countess complained. She refilled her teacup and offered more coffee to Grandby. He shook his head but took another biscuit.

  He allowed a sudden grin as he considered how he was going to go about putting the final pieces of his plan into place without offending the Earl of Everly. “Tell me, are you still reading that book? The Story of a Baron?” he asked suddenly.

  Adele had to suppress a grin as she shrugged. “I’m only about halfway through it, but ...”

  “Who’s the baron?” Grandby asked suddenly as he leaned forward, his elbows on the table.

  Blinking a few times, Adele shook her head. “You mean Matthew Winters?” she responded after a bit of hesitation. “Lord Ballantine.”

  “In real life,” her husband clarified. “Whom do you think the book is really about?”

  Stilling herself, Adele gave her husband’s question a good deal of thought. She had only thought the book a work of fiction. But now that she thought about it, some of the social situations seemed familiar. And the names of places, such as Nonmack’s and Black’s, were obviously opposites of the real names of Almack’s and White’s. And she thought Lord Afterly seemed rather similar to Lord Everly, but as for the other members of the aristocracy, she hadn’t really noticed any veiled identities.

  Was Lord Ballantine supposed to be based on a real baron?

  Grandby sighed. “Maybe I was just reading too much into it, but doesn’t Matthew Winters seem an awful lot like Lord Sommers?” he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

  Adele frowned. “When did you have a chance to read the book?” she wondered with surprise.

  Her husband rolled his eyes. “Only the first few chapters,” he said, not adding that he had done so whilst in Hatchard’s. He had no intention of spending any money on the tome.

  The countess grinned, but considered his question. Once she gave it some thought, she decided that, yes, Lord Ballantine did seem a bit like Jeffrey Althorpe. “But Afterly’s sister, Geraldine, isn’t anything like Evangeline,” she said with a shake of her head.

  “Of course not,” Grandby stated with a shake of his head. “Anonymous didn’t know her. Or know her well enough when he used her as the model for Geraldine,” he said with some authority.

  Staring at her husband, Adele shook her head. “Why would you think Evangeline was the model for Geraldine? They’re ... they are nothing alike,” she argued, wishing she had managed to read more of the book.

  “Tall, blonde, alone all the time?” he replied quickly. “I think Anonymous is rather fond of our Lady Evangeline,” he added with a quirked eyebrow. And I think I may know who he is, he thought to himself.

  “Evangeline Tennison would never do the things Anonymous has Geraldine doing in that book,” Adele said as she shook her head. “Or, at least accused of, anway.”

  Grandby regarded his wife for a long time before he replied. “Not yet, anyway.”

  Although he was pretty sure he knew the true identity of Lord Ballantine, he had some work to do before he could confirm his suspicions about Anonymous. Depending on just who that someone was, that someone just might be asking Lady Evangeline for her hand in marriage.

  Chapter 45

  Chapter Thirteen: A Farewell Kiss

  Geraldine suddenly leaned over and took Matthew’s mouth with hers.

  The kiss was scorching in its intensity. Her lips had been made for this, their tender flesh fitting perfectly to his. Before he could think to pull away, memories of their brief encounter all those years ago came flooding back again, filling him with the same sense of urgency, of need, he had felt that night they declared their feelings for one another. Not even the threat of a slap across his face would keep him from returning Geraldine’s kiss.

  When the baron had shown up on the steps of Rosehill House at precisely seven o’clock in the evening, Geraldine had thought he was there to call on her brother, or to provide a ride to Black’s, seeing as how a new groom and tiger hadn’t yet been hired.

  “I am not here for your brother,” Matthew had whispered with a shake of his head. He stood with his back to the front door, clutching his hat in one hand.

  Geraldine had stared at him for several seconds, her heart suddenly pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it. “You’re not?” she managed to say in response. And that’s when his lips were suddenly on hers, the kiss soft and tender and ever so sweet. She was sure she had allowed a squeak of disappointment to escape when he slowly pulled away.

  That’s when Geraldine leaned over and kissed him, kissed Matthew as if it would be their last kiss. For as far as she knew, it would be.

  When she suddenly pulled away, apparently to take a breath, Matthew was left a bit dazed. “What is it?” he whispered, noting how a tear had escaped the corner of one eye.

  “I leave for Montbury Abbey in the morning,” she whispered, her lips quivering as if she were about to really cry. At the baron’s suddenly furrowed brows, Geraldine sniffled. “Richard has made good on his threat and has arranged for me to live at a convent,” she continued, a sob interrupting her words.

  “No,” Matthew replied, his head shaking back and forth. “No. You cannot go,” he replied, mentally cursing Richard Porterhouse. He was sure the man had only mentioned sending his sister to an abbey as a warning, as a means of forcing Geraldine to behave in a more ladylike manner. He didn’t think the man truly meant his words!

  Tears now streamed down Geraldine’s face. “I do not have a choice. My coach leaves at nine in the morning.” With that, she gave the baron a curtsy, turned and hurried from the vestibule.

  She was sure she would never again see Matthew Winters.

  Chapter 46

  Anonymous Revealed

  Evangeline dared a glance at the baron, wondering at his sudden reaction of surprise to the page they just finished reading. “What is it?” she asked, her brows furrowing in concern. There were back in the library, the baron having arrived at precisely eleven o’clock to continue where they had left off in The Story of a Baron.

  Jeffrey sat shak
ing his head, his own brows creased in concern. “This ... This is all wrong. This didn’t happen!” he exclaimed as he continued to shake his head. “The earl gave his permission. In fact, he practically begged Ballantine to marry his sister,” he said, his eyes still on the open book before them.

  Glancing between Jeffrey and the book, Evangeline wondered what had the baron so upset. “What ... what are referring to?” she whispered. “Did you ... did you read ahead?” she suddenly accused, thinking perhaps the baron already knew – or thought he knew – what was supposed to happen next.

  “No,” he whispered, still shaking his head back and forth. Jeffrey suddenly looked up at the ceiling, one brow arching up when he caught the telltale signs of cobwebs in the coffers. Just like the library in Rosehill House, he thought absently, rather proud that he had managed to get that particular detail right, although there were probably cobwebs in the coffers of every house in Park Lane, he figured. And then his mind was somewhere else, trying desperately to remember the original details of the particular scene he had just read.

  As he remembered writing it, Ballantine had paid a call on the Earl of Afterly, intending to ask Richard Porterhouse for his sister’s hand in marriage. The way he had written the scene, the earl granted permission for Ballantine and Geraldine to wed, although he had done so somewhat reluctantly – not because he didn’t want to get his sister settled with the baron, – but rather because he didn’t want his friend left with the responsibility of having to look after a chit who was the subject of so much gossip. Ballantine argued that marrying the chit would help alleviate further gossip, and he figured, given the whims of the fickle ton, the incidents involving Geraldine would be forgotten in a fortnight, or about the amount of time they would be gone on their wedding trip.