Jilted By A Cad (Jilted Brides Trilogy Book 1)

by Cheryl Holt

  He also wasn’t convinced that Richard should manage such a large venture. The Benton assets were vast and widespread, and Richard’s father and older brother, Roger, were gamblers. They’d bankrupted the Slater family, and their recklessness had ultimately caused them to lose their own property.

  The father was deceased, but Roger wallowed in reduced circumstances in London where he continued to squander funds he didn’t have. Peyton couldn’t guess if Richard was cut from the same cloth, but in case he had similar tendencies, Peyton didn’t suppose he ought to take any chances.

  From what Peyton could discern, the property was flowing along in a stable condition. The house was fully staffed. The fields had crops growing. The animal herds appeared healthy. The trees in the orchards were laden with fruit.

  Yet he wasn’t a farmer, had never wanted to be a farmer, and didn’t know much about farming, so he could be wrong. He sensed an undercurrent of crisis at Benton, but he couldn’t deduce the source. Was it due to Richard’s handling of the finances?

  Peyton would have to be a dunce not to realize that part of the problem was Barbara disliking him. She was incensed that she’d birthed no sons, so Peyton had inherited when Neville died. He was home and suddenly in charge when, evidently, Neville had rarely bothered with Benton.

  Barbara and her twin brother had had free rein for years, and Peyton was mostly a stranger to them, so it seemed as if an unwanted guest had swooped in and seized what was theirs.

  Neville had bequeathed everything to Peyton. He’d even been designated as guardian of Barbara’s two daughters, Alice and Nancy. Barbara was furious about the conclusion Neville had engineered, especially the guardianship of her daughters, but he suspected she was even more enraged by the fact that Peyton had control over all the money.

  Neville hadn’t left Barbara a penny. He’d simply advised Peyton to support her in the style to which she was accustomed. She couldn’t buy a new bonnet without seeking his permission first.

  “May I help you, Peyton?” Richard asked.

  “You’ve been too busy to show me the ledgers, so I popped in to study them on my own.”

  “May I explain any of the entries to you?”

  “No, but I might invite a friend of mine out to study them too. Or perhaps I’ll take them to London and leave them with the accountant I’ve hired.”

  “An…accountant? How interesting. Are you finding fault? The man we use has always been competent.”

  “I’m sure he has been, but I’ll be bringing in some of my own people.”

  Richard nodded obsequiously. “Are you implying that you’ll be getting rid of me? I consider Benton my home, and I’d hate to hear that you were unsatisfied with my service.”

  “Should I be?”

  “No.” He smiled nervously. “You must proceed as you deem best. I’m certain we’ll all adapt.”

  “I’m certain we will too.”

  Peyton was deliberately being an ass. He’d commandeered Richard’s desk, in Richard’s office. Richard was standing and fidgeting, obviously wishing Peyton hadn’t stopped by, wishing he could tell Peyton to move, but he couldn’t. The office and every item in it belonged to Peyton now.

  If he wanted to sit at the desk, he could, and Richard didn’t dare complain.

  “Have a seat.” Peyton gestured to the chair across. “We have to discuss a complicated subject.”

  Richard hesitated, nearly voiced a protest, then sank down. “What is it?”

  “An issue has arisen, and I have some questions about it.”

  “About the ledgers?”

  “No, not about the ledgers.” Richard looked relieved until Peyton added, “Not yet anyway.”

  “They’re in excellent shape.”

  “I hope so.”

  Peyton was almost thirty, and Richard was the same age, but Peyton seemed a hundred years older. He’d lived a life most men only read about in books. He’d sailed the globe, had been to China and India and Australia. He’d chased pirates in the Caribbean and had fought upstart Americans on their coast. He’d drunk wine and chased doxies in the most notorious port towns. He’d explored the Earth’s wildest places with Britain’s finest sailors.

  He’d been wounded over and over, decorated for bravery a dozen times. When he donned his dress uniform, the coat was adorned with so many medals that it was embarrassing to wear it out in public.

  He’d joined the navy at sixteen, immediately after he’d graduated from school. Since then, he’d thrived on excitement, adventure, and danger. In contrast, Richard had attended university, then had come to Benton to stay with his sister after their father went bankrupt. That was the extent of his life experience.

  He was steady and boring, a tad grumpy, loyal to his sister, and very set in his ways. They were so different it was hard to believe they were members of the same species.

  “I had an intriguing visitor this afternoon,” Peyton said. “You met with her just before I did. Josephine Bates?”

  “Oh.” Richard’s expression was completely blank. If he had an opinion about pretty, fascinating Josephine, it was carefully concealed. “I wasn’t aware she’d bothered you. I told her not to.”

  “It was no bother. I chatted with her out on the road when she initially arrived.”

  “I didn’t realize that.”

  “You wouldn’t have. I was happy to confer with her after she finished her appointment with you.”

  “I see.”

  “Tell me about Daisy Prescott.” Peyton scowled. “Is her surname Prescott? I guess I should know.”

  “Yes, it’s Prescott.”

  “I’m informed that she’s lived at Benton for most of a decade.”

  “Yes.”

  Richard wasn’t inclined to offer any details, and Peyton was irked that he’d have to pry them out.

  “Where is her lodging?” he asked.

  “In a cottage—at the edge of the estate, out toward the London road.”

  “I gather there is more than one child there with her?”

  “Yes. Another son and daughter.”

  “And they are…?”

  “Bobby and Jane.”

  “Neville is father to all three?”

  “Yes.”

  “So he has three bastards.”

  “Actually, he has nine—that I’ve learned of.”

  Peyton sputtered with astonishment. “Nine!”

  “Yes.”

  “Where are the other six?”

  “With their maternal kin. Daisy, Bobby, and Jane didn’t have that option for…ah…various reasons, so we sheltered them here. Your brother insisted.”

  “Were you planning to tell me about them?”

  “I don’t think so,” Richard bluntly admitted.

  “Why not? Have you ever considered that I might like to be apprised?”

  “It’s a difficult situation, Peyton. I wasn’t sure how to broach the topic.”

  “You’re sending Daisy away,” he said. “Are Bobby and Jane going too?”

  “I’m expecting to find an arrangement for them, yes.”

  “And if you can’t locate a suitable spot?”

  Richard shrugged. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning I’ll cross that bridge when it appears in front of me.”

  Peyton was flummoxed by the entire imbroglio.

  He and Neville had been born five years apart, but their childhoods couldn’t have been more different.

  Neville had been the precious heir their father needed so desperately. He’d been spoiled and worshipped and adored, particularly by their father who’d acted as if Neville could do no wrong. With his golden blond hair and handsome looks, he’d been viewed as an angel, a faultless boy who was incapable of sin or mischief, a precocious little darling who was perfect.

  Peyton, on the other hand, had been treated like an orphan, like a waif
dragged in off the street. His earliest memories were of vicious whippings. At age seven, he’d been exiled to a military boarding school, and he’d never been allowed home for summer or holidays.

  Upon graduating, he’d enlisted in the Royal Navy, and after that, there’d never been a question about his returning to Benton or receiving support. He hadn’t been urged to attend university or pick a safer, saner career.

  It wasn’t until Peyton was fourteen that he’d heard whispers from a classmate that his father wasn’t his father. Peyton had black hair and blue, blue eyes, and with his muscular physique and six feet of height, he hadn’t resembled the Benton men in even the slightest way. Supposedly, Peyton’s mother had had an affair, so Peyton was a cuckoo in the Benton nest.

  His mother—whom he’d barely known—had been deceased by then, so he hadn’t been able to dig out the truth, but it certainly clarified many things. Now that Neville was dead and Peyton was earl, it was humorous to recall that old scandal.

  But Peyton simply couldn’t wrap his mind around Neville being such a philandering rogue. It didn’t match his recollections of Neville at all. What sort of cad sired nine bastards?

  “Why are you evicting Daisy?” he asked. “She must feel Benton is her home. Why yank it away from her?”

  Richard gaped at Peyton as if he was the thickest man ever. “Why?”

  “Yes. She hasn’t caused any problems. What’s changed?”

  “Your brother died, Peyton.”

  “I’m aware of that fact. I’m here in his place, aren’t I?”

  “Can’t you work out the dilemma on your own? Must I explain it to you?”

  “I guess you must.”

  “My sister can’t abide their being in residence another second.”

  “Oh. I hadn’t thought about her opinion.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Color marred Richard’s cheeks. “Your brother demanded those children live at Benton—right under my sister’s nose. Barbara and I vehemently fought with him over it, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “Why was he so adamant? Was he close to them? Did he dote on them?”

  “No. As far as I’m aware, he never saw them. He merely liked to humiliate my sister. He loathed her and enjoyed tormenting her.”

  “Really? I hardly knew Neville, but from what I remember, I’d never have pegged him as being overly cruel.”

  “Well, he was very cruel. Why, Daisy was born the same month as Alice! Can you imagine my sister’s shame?”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “Neville is deceased, and Benton Manor is my sister’s home—unless you plan to kick her out of it.”

  “No, I don’t plan that.”

  “She’s suffered enough, and she’s anxious for his by-blows to depart. I beg you not to be spiteful about it—as your brother was spiteful.”

  “I’m not a spiteful person, Richard.”

  “We can only hope.”

  Peyton breathed out a heavy sigh. He didn’t care about Benton—his father had drummed out any fondness—and these types of familial quagmires were exactly the reason he was so aggravated over the inheritance.

  He simply wanted to head back to sea. He wanted his crew to unfurl the sails so they’d crack in the wind. He wanted to stand at the bow of his ship while the sea spray splashed his hair and clothes.

  What he didn’t want was to fuss with Barbara and Richard. They deemed him an interloper, and they were correct. He was. If he’d been more honorable, he’d have signed over the entire estate to them. He couldn’t give them the title, but he could give them everything else.

  Why didn’t he?

  The pathetic fact was that he garnered enormous satisfaction from becoming earl so unexpectedly. He groused and complained about it, but secretly, he was sure his awful father was rolling in his grave. Wasn’t that a pretty picture to ponder?

  “You’ve ordered Miss Bates to remove Daisy by July fifteenth,” he said, “but she might have some difficulty accomplishing it by then.”

  “Yes, she was very candid about it.”

  “If she can’t make arrangements by then, she’s asked if Daisy could stay on for a bit. What would you think about that?”

  “I think her sister, Maud Bates, has had ten years to come up with a better idea. We’ve constantly pressed her about it, but she’s refused to take any responsibility.”

  “How old was she when Neville seduced her?”

  “I believe she was sixteen.”

  “And Neville was what? Twenty-five or so?”

  “Yes.”

  “She was practically a girl when it happened, and Neville was an adult. Can any of it have been her fault? Must she accept any responsibility?”

  “Probably not for the affair, but has she any duty now? It’s a decade later, and she’s the child’s mother. Can any obligation be attached to her? Ever? Oughtn’t it to be?”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you?” Richard snidely inquired. “Do you really?”

  “I’m staggering through this debacle, Richard. If I let Miss Bates have more time, what would your opinion be?”

  “My opinion would be that you shouldn’t allow it.”

  Richard was so livid that he was trembling. Clearly, this was an issue that had vexed the Slaters for an extended period, and they’d been determined to resolve it with no interference from Peyton.

  As to himself, he couldn’t choose the best course. Despite what he selected, someone would wind up hurt or angry. Normally, he felt that thorny matters settled themselves without much intervention. Circumstances or attitudes changed, and in his experience, it was silly to overreact.

  If he inserted himself in the predicament, would he only make it worse?

  “I haven’t reached a decision,” he said. “I told her I have to consult with you, then reflect on a conclusion.”

  “What shall I tell my sister? You’ve been here a few weeks, and on a daily basis, you ignore the estate and how we carry on. You all but brag about how you don’t care. Will this be what finally sparks your interest? Will you push yourself into the middle of it when, so far, you’ve avoided all other subjects?”

  Peyton might have argued the point—and chided Richard for his insult—but Richard’s assessment was spot on, and Peyton valued frank speaking.

  “We’re all finding our way around each other, Richard. Would you rather I had blustered in and evicted all of you?”

  “It wouldn’t have surprised me,” Richard baldly admitted, “and you haven’t answered my question. What shall I tell my sister? Will you keep your brother’s bastards here? Will your first substantial act be one that crushes her? Will you insist that she continue to be shamed by your family?”

  Peyton spun away and gazed out the window at the park. He wished he could see the ocean from Benton. If he could, maybe he wouldn’t hate the place quite so much. The sea was where he belonged. A sailing ship was his true home. Not this land-locked estate where people were so cantankerous and unhappy.

  He noticed someone walking down a path, and he focused in, gradually recognizing it to be Jo Bates. On observing her, the most pleasant wave of contentment swept through him. It was always delightful to watch a young lady stroll in a flower garden, but there was something extra about her that tantalized him.

  It was more than her being very pretty. Her auburn hair was a stunning color he’d never witnessed on another female, and her blue eyes were an odd hue. She was wearing a lavender gown, so they appeared more violet than blue. They were the sort of eyes that made a fellow look twice, that held him rapt when he should have pulled away.

  She was only twenty, but she exuded a calm and mature demeanor so she seemed much older than that. She was funny and self-deprecating, and after they’d chatted in his library, he’d learned that she was a damsel in distress too. What gentleman wouldn’t be eager to save a damsel in distress? He certainly couldn’t resist that type of challenge.

&nbs
p; “I’ll contemplate all of this,” he said, “and I’ll let you know my views—once I figure out what they are.”

  Richard inhaled a deep breath and tucked away his fit of pique, but he couldn’t completely conceal his sarcasm. “I can’t wait to hear what you devise.”

  “I guess Daisy is in London today.”

  “She is.”

  “I want to meet her tomorrow. I’ll want to meet Bobby and Jane too.”

  “To what end?”

  “Well, they’re not dogs or chickens, Richard. They’re children—my dead brother’s children. I’d like to garner a sense of who they are.”

  “Fine. Have it your way.”

  “And I’ve invited Miss Bates to spend the night so she can meet Daisy too. It was ridiculous for her to travel home, then have to turn around and travel right back.”

  Richard was aghast. “You invited her to stay?”

  “Yes.”

  “But…but…why?”

  “I told you, Richard: to meet her niece.”

  Richard sputtered with offense. “Will you expect my mother and sister to dine with her this evening?”

  “She’s not a wild animal. I’m sure she has sufficient manners to sit at the table with all of you. I doubt she’ll eat with her fingers. I’m positive she’ll have been taught how to use a spoon and a fork.”

  Richard shook his head with disgust. “You pretend to understand this mess, but you really don’t.”

  “I understand enough.”

  “Can you even try to consider my sister’s feelings?”

  “I can try. That’s all I promise.”

  Peyton was weary of bickering. He stood, so Richard had to rise too. Just to disconcert the other man, he scooped up the account ledgers and left with them. If Richard had an opinion about Peyton’s absconding with them, he didn’t dare voice it.

  Peyton grinned and kept on to his bedchamber. He’d drop the ledgers there, then he’d hurry out to the park. If he was lucky, the very charming Miss Bates might entertain him all afternoon.

  * * * *