The Sanctuary (A Spencer Novel)

by Sandra Lea Rice

  The first of the carriages arrived under the portico. A footman opened the door and let down the steps. A man of medium height and brown hair, showing a touch of gray at the temples, stepped down. His warm, brown eyes sparkled and a broad smile creased his face as he peered at Clairece.

  At first glance, Anthony would have considered the man’s appearance ordinary. Then he smiled and his entire countenance filled with vitality and enthusiasm. Anthony observed the smile accompanying the slight chin gesture and knew he was seeing Clairece’s father.

  Muscles bulged in the man’s legs. Anthony was reminded of James’ description, ‘a man hard as nails.’ Apparently, it was more than a figure of speech.

  Clairece gave another little screech and flew forward, flinging herself into the man’s outstretched arms. Her father’s laugh echoed in the chill morning air.

  A woman appeared next. Slim and elegant, her glistening blond hair pulled back in a chignon, she had the peaches and cream complexion so many English ladies desired and tried to emulate. Blue eyes searched the group, centering on Clairece.

  “Joel, come help me down. I wish to hold my daughter.”

  Anthony could see Clairece reflected in the lovely features. He strode forward and offered his hand. “Ma’am?”

  Stepping down, she uttered a soft, “Thank you,” before moving to embrace Clairece. The woman held her daughter at arms’ length, and smiled. “For all you’ve been through, I must say you look radiant.”

  Another man exited the carriage, unfolding his large frame as he did. Tall, lean, and deeply tanned, he possessed an air of authority which bespoke years of command. His crystal-blue gaze surveyed the scene around him, clearly noting all those present before coming to rest on Philippe. The man gave a short nod, which Philippe returned.

  Under normal circumstances, Anthony would never stop to consider whether another man was handsome or not, only if he would make a formidable opponent. This man was both. Adrian Spencer, Earl of Windsford, was everything Anthony had been led to believe, and more. An imposing figure, Windsford moved with an easy grace not common for a man his size. Morning light caught the pale streaks in his otherwise flaxen hair.

  A strong homogeneity obviously ran through the Spencer family. Anthony had a quick image of how his and Clairece’s children might look. Meeting Windford’s intense regard, Anthony was surprised to see the man’s eyes narrow.

  Adrian Spencer may be many things, some of them fearsome, but he obviously cared deeply for his family. The need to protect them showed in every fiber of his being.

  Clairece slid her arms around her uncle’s waist in an affectionate hug. “Did Aunt Angeline come with you?” She looked past him toward the coach.

  “Angeline remained at the ranch with Elaina. She was concerned bringing a toddler on such an arduous trip would be dangerous. She sent her love.”

  Clairece smiled. “I understand.”

  Adrian cupped Clairece’s face in his hands and scrutinized her features. “The bruising is all but gone, but I’ll warrant the fear still remains.” He brushed his thumbs across her cheeks. “James was right to summon us. Rest assured, whoever is responsible will pay for this.” He kissed her forehead and released her.

  Her father glanced toward the group gathered on the front steps. “James told us you were under the protection of a gentleman, an earl. I would like to thank him personally for his help.”

  Clairece claimed Anthony’s hand, a gesture which did not go unnoticed by the members of her family. “Mama, Papa, may I present Anthony Wade, the Earl of Harding? Anthony, these are my parents, Joel and Virginia Harris.” She turned him to face the remaining member.

  During the appropriate introduction, made in the correct order, two grown men made their proper replies and eyed each other in a very male, improper fashion. Clairece offered her brightest smile and added, “Anthony and I were married after we arrived in Bristol.”

  Her father looked Anthony over. “I see we have quite a bit to talk about.”

  Her mother hugged her and smiled, but her effort was wasted when she bit her lip and said nothing.

  Visibly stiffening, a muscle in her uncle’s jaw flexed. “We can discuss all of this once we’re inside and in private.”

  Clairece placed her hand on Anthony’s arm and he covered her fingers in a proprietary gesture. “As you say, we have much to discuss.”

  With a jingle of harness, the second carriage pulled under the portico to dislodge its passengers. James’ face appeared at the window and Clairece gave a sigh of relief.

  The door swung open and James stepped down. In two long strides she was enveloped in a strong embrace. His breath fanned her cheek as he murmured, “Have a care, Ree. The next few minutes will be difficult, but I promise it will be all right.” He released her and stepped back, but remained at her side.

  Clairece felt the first stirrings of unease.

  Phillip Michael emerged and turned to help a young woman alight from the coach. In a gray traveling dress, with matching pelisse and bonnet, the woman appeared to be a nanny.

  Clairece’s father moved to the door of the carriage and reached inside. When he turned to face her, he held a little girl dressed in cherry-red wool.

  She gaped at the child, who possessed eyes so like her own. Beneath the red bonnet, Clairece caught glimpses of pale-blond ringlets. As premonition took hold, she rubbed her temples and met her father’s tender gaze.

  Through a gathering fog, she heard James whisper, “Steady, Ree.” Her chest tightened and her body flushed with heat. A feeling, so intense she could hardly breathe, enveloped her.

  Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

  Clairece covered her mouth with numbed fingers as a footman carried a miniature wheeled-chair from the back of the coach to set before her father. He lowered his bundle into the conveyance and stepped to the side.

  Trembling, she hunkered down beside the chair and forced the words past lips gone suddenly numb, “What is your name, sweetheart?”

  “Miranda Elizabeth. I don’t have a proper last name,” the child replied.

  Vision narrowing, Clairece wobbled. Anthony appeared at her side, a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

  The child pursed tiny rosebud lips and stared at her. “What’s your name?”

  “My name is Clairece and I . . .” She faltered, then glanced at her father, who nodded. “I am your mother.”

  Miranda gave a whoop. “I knew it. My old nanny said one day you would come for me. I waited and waited, and finally you have.” Dimples materialized in her pale cheeks.

  “Oh, darling, we would have come much sooner had I known where to find you.” She took Miranda’s mitten-covered hands in hers and kissed each one in turn. Anthony squeezed Clairece’s shoulder, and she smiled up at him.

  Miranda’s gaze followed the interchange. “Are you my papa?”

  Before Clairece could respond, Anthony scooped the child up in his arms. “I would like to be, if it’s all right with you?”

  The little girl bobbed her head.

  Sophie tugged on Anthony’s coat. “Is she my sister?”

  Anthony looked from one child to the other. “Yes, she is. I now have two beautiful little girls to love.” Anthony glanced at Clairece. “Correction, I now have three beautiful ladies to treasure.”

  “Please, put my sister in her chair so I may see her,” Sophie pleaded.

  “In a moment, poppet.” Anthony placed Miranda in Clairece’s arms. They closed tightly around the daughter she never thought to hold and she began kissing the child’s face, from forehead to dimpled cheeks. At the feel of a childish embrace, small hands clasping her neck, Clairece began to cry. Finally, she released her daughter to Anthony and he lowered Miranda into her miniature chair.

  Sophie swooped in. “I’ve always wante
d a sister. How old are you?”

  “Six,” came the shy reply.

  “So am I!” Sophie bounced. “We’ll be the best of friends, as well as sisters. I shall call you Mira. It’s much easier. My room is large and we can share it. There’s lots of toys and books, just oodles of things to play with and”—she took a deep breath—“if you don’t have a dolly of your own, you can have mine, but I know Papa will get one just for you.” Sophie twirled in a circle. “It will be wonderful, you’ll see, and you will have a proper name and a proper family and we shall all be so happy and—”

  “I would like that above all things,” Mira inserted, ending Sophie’s recitation.

  “Mr. Hodges,” Sophie smiled up at the butler. “Would you please ask some footmen to take Mira’s things upstairs to my—to our—room?”

  Hodges looked to Clairece. “My lady?”

  “Please. The girls can get better acquainted. I’ll be up shortly.” Clairece turned to the young woman dressed in grey. “Are you Miranda’s nanny?”

  “Yes, my lady. My name is Emma Baker. I was with Miranda in Philadelphia. Your mother thought it best to have someone familiar accompany the child.”

  “Philadelphia?” Clairece closed her eyes. “Yes, of course.” So close all this time. She swayed, and Anthony slid a supporting arm around her waist.

  “Will you lead the way, Miss Sophie?” Emma patted Miranda’s shoulder reassuringly.

  Sophie studied the chair. “Can you walk, Mira?”

  “I can, but I’m not supposed to. My old nurse said it wasn’t good for me.”

  “Well, that’s all right. MacDougal or William can carry you upstairs. They’re both strong.” Sophie grinned at one of the footmen.

  Thomas MacDougal stepped forward. “Yes, miss. I’ll gladly tote the wee lass to the nursery.”

  As the group departed, Clairece caught Dr. Farris’ eye. With a slight nod of acknowledgement, he followed the small entourage up the stairs.

  She whirled to face her parents. “How could Roger do such a thing? Why would he keep my child from me?”

  Chapter 48

  James stood at one of the tall windows in the library and peered out. It wasn’t the terraced landscape which held his attention, but the conversation in the room behind him. Initially taken aback to learn Anthony and Clairece were married, James realized he shouldn’t have been. Anthony was dogged in his pursuit of something he truly wanted, and clearly, he wanted Clairece.

  James also knew how protective his uncles could be. Anthony should not be too complacent for he had yet to prove himself. James pivoted and leaned his hip against the windowsill to observe the others in the room. While Uncle Adrian asked question after question, Don Philippe and Stallings remained silent.

  A chair creaked. James followed the sound to Jason Rutledge. Without a doubt, Jason was loyal to Anthony. If the man felt the others were maligning his friend in any way, Jason would speak out against it.

  Adrian folded his arms over his chest. “What do you make of the attempts on my niece’s life, Rutledge?”

  “I can only repeat what I was told,” Jason replied, albeit gruffly. “I am certain James shared all of the happenings with you in London. What he wouldn’t be privy to, was the recent attempt on Anthony’s life.”

  “What attempt?” James demanded. “When?”

  Jason glanced briefly at James. “The scar-faced man followed Anthony and Lady Clairece onto the train. The blackguard bludgeoned Anthony from behind when he went for food.”

  “Are you saying Lord Anthony was able to fend off an armed attack by himself?” Adrian ventured, skepticism infusing his tone.

  “That is exactly what I’m saying.” Jason rose abruptly. “Anthony carries a knife in his boot, and cut his assailant. The man jumped from the train and ran.”

  “Gentlemen.” Farris entered the library, closing the door behind him. “I apologize for my late arrival, but Lady Clairece asked me to attend her daughter. For those of you who don’t know, I’m Doctor Benjamin Farris. I can attest to the attack. I examined Lord Anthony’s arm and shoulder shortly after the incident.”

  Farris strolled farther into the room. “Lord Anthony is more than capable of defending himself. He is fast and calculated with his fists. Few chaps will spar with him so he’s forced to use a heavy bag. He’s only been bested once with a sword, and that, by his master instructor. The Master has since refused to fence against Anthony. With a pistol, he’s considered an outstanding marksman.”

  Farris shook his head. “Some say a demon drives him, but whatever the reason, he excels at everything he attempts.”

  Adrian glanced at Philippe. “What is your opinion?”

  “I trust what Lord Anthony says to be the truth. I have found nothing to indicate he is other than what he seems. If anything, he is much more than what appears on the surface. As Farris has stated, Lord Anthony does not speak of his accomplishments. I believe him to be a good man, but one haunted by his past.”

  James cleared his throat. “Every man has a past, some dark and hidden in shadows, but the sins of Tony’s were not of his doing.”

  “You’re certain of this?” The stare Adrian pinned James with caused him to stiffen.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Lord Windsford,” Jason began, “although you may disparage what’s been said about Anthony, it changes nothing. Two days ago, we were riding back to the Hall and a bridge collapsed under his feet. Anthony spent the first critical moments saving his horse. The whole structure washed away and he was left hanging onto a pylon. I grabbed his arm, but when it became obvious to both of us I couldn’t pull him up, he told me to let him go. He didn’t want me to risk my life.”

  James’ body grew cold. “How did you save him?”

  “Roxbury showed up. Just appeared and grabbed Anthony’s other arm. Together, we wrested him over the edge.” At the bravos from the other men, Jason raised his hand. “Don’t. I didn’t release him because I couldn’t live with myself if I let him die. Anthony sensed it and made the decision for me. I realized what he planned when he gave me a message for Lady Clairece.”

  Jason stepped close, almost toe-to-toe with Adrian. “Should you still choose to vilify Anthony, I will ask you to step outside.”

  Stallings moved to stand between the two men. “Do you believe it another attempt on Harding’s life?” he asked Jason.

  “No. An uprooted tree swept into the side of the bridge.”

  Stallings nodded. “I’ll note it as an accident.”

  Adrian frowned. “Are you writing some damned report about all this? This is family business.”

  “It’s never been just your family’s business, Lord Windsford. Its England’s business, which makes it mine. Whatever Harding finds . . .” Stallings’ mouth snapped shut.

  “What has Lord Anthony to do with this?” Adrian queried softly.

  “You may speak freely, Stallings. At this point there can be no secrets between us,” Anthony said from the doorway. He prayed his decision would not cost him everything he held dear.

  All eyes swung toward him as he strode into the library, Joel at his side. Clairece’s father seemed a fair-minded man. Anthony could only hope he would understand.

  “Lord Anthony was asked to investigate the rumor of a priceless heirloom resurfacing, namely the dog collar once belonging to Mary, Queen of Scots,” Stallings began.

  “The artifact from the museum in New York?” Adrian asked.

  “One and the same. Scotland Yard, under the auspices of Her Royal Highness, Queen Victoria, has used Harding’s particular talents in matters of some delicacy on numerous occasions. Her Majesty was insistent Lord Anthony be brought into this.”

  James frowned. “I came to you for help, Tony, and you never mentioned any of this.”

&nbs
p; “I’ve kept the extent of my connection with the Yard private,” Anthony admitted. “Both requests were made at the same time, James, but I would have helped you regardless. You should know without asking.”

  “Did you marry my daughter as a means to an end?” Joel demanded.

  This was the point at which Anthony could lose everything. “No, I did not. Clairece will never be a means to an end, unless it’s to the life I’ve only dared dream of having.” Anthony looked her father squarely in the eyes. “She’s a brave, courageous woman, one who acts impulsively without regard for her own safety. She’s been hurt many times by those she trusted, but still chooses to believe in me. What I feel for Clairece is between her and me. I will say I would gladly lay down my life for her. She is everything, and more, to me.”

  The others remained silent, only an occasional creak of a chair to indicate they were listening.

  Anthony shifted his gaze to include Adrian. “You are her family and she loves you. I allowed you into my home knowing you would try and take her from me if you found I had played her false. I would expect no less from those who care for her. But understand this, the only person who will ever separate the two of us is Clairece herself. The day we married, I pledged my life to her. Although it was not the wedding I wished to give her, I meant each and every vow. I will never, in any way, play false or loose with her, nor will I ever intentionally place my needs above hers.”

  Joel stared at him intently. “And her daughter? Can you accept Miranda as you stated earlier?”

  “As easily as I have accepted Sophie,” Anthony replied, knowing he was opening his life to these people.

  Phillip Michael leaned forward. “She’s not yours?”

  Anthony shook his head. “She is not of my blood, but in my heart, she is mine. Only a few know of her birth. For her sake, let it remain that way.”