Attracted to the Earl

by Bronwen Evans

Dora gave her a sly smile. “And when exactly did you see his lordship this morning if you have not eaten?”

  The heat from her face could have warmed a teapot. “In the corridor as I was making…that is, I went for a walk earlier to clear my head.” Blast, what was she doing in the corridor, she’d come to Dora’s room through the connecting door. She’d have had no need to use the corridor and Dora knew it.

  “I see,” was all her daughter said before kissing her on the cheek. “I shall organize some food while you talk to her ladyship.”

  As Abigail made her way toward her ladyship’s drawing room she could not help but feel sorry for herself. She would leave here alone, perhaps Molly would come with her but she imagined the woman would welcome the chance to settle down within Dora’s household. Molly was getting on in age.

  She knocked on her ladyship’s door and was bid to enter.

  “Miss Pinehurst. Not out hunting the orchid this morning.”

  Abigail gave a brief curtsey and waited until Guy’s mother indicated she should sit. “Sadly, no. That is what I’m here to discuss. His lordship has forbidden us to leave the house. It appears Mr. Patrick Neville kidnapped Dora last night—” she put her hand up at her ladyship’s gasp “—she is back safely but Mr. Neville has escaped. Your son thinks it is better we remain indoors and cancel all entertainments. Notes have been sent to the Newtons and others to that effect by Giles, I believe.”

  “Evil little sod. Patrick, that is.” Her ladyship stood and began to pace, wringing her hands. “He is going to cause trouble, I just know it.”

  “Do not fret, your son can better a man like Patrick.”

  She swung to face Abigail. “Interesting that Guy sent you to inform me. He has taken quite the shine to you.”

  Abigail felt herself flush and she could not look her ladyship in the eye. “I’m sure it was convenience, that is all. Finding Patrick is consuming all the staff.”

  Her ladyship came to stand in front of where Abigail sat. “I like you. You are a kind and intelligent woman. But let me be clear. You are not for my son. He thinks he has to cast his net lower than he should when looking for a wife. I do apologize if he has given you any false hopes that something more can come of your…relationship. I may be old but I am not blind,” she added, when she saw Abigail about to protest.

  Abigail held her head up high. “I am well aware of my position. And your son should not have to cast his net, as you say, low at all. He is a fine man. An intelligent man. And any woman should be proud to be his wife.”

  Her ladyship’s eyes opened wide. “Oh, dear. He has told you.” And she sunk back onto the settee. “I have misjudged the situation. He must be very fond of you, indeed.”

  “I know he cannot read, but that does not define who he is.”

  “Does Patrick know?”

  “I think you should talk with your son.”

  “I feel something is monstrously wrong. If Patrick has learned the truth…”

  “What are you so afraid of? Even if he were to learn the truth, what can Patrick do? Your son is a brilliant man, any person who meets him knows that.”

  “You would not understand. I suspect the Chancery would look dimly on an earl who needed someone to tell him what he is signing. A relative would be a good choice if it wasn’t for the fact the only relative is Patrick.”

  “It won’t come to that, I’m sure. Guy will find Patrick and have him arrested. Then this will be over.”

  As she took her leave to find Dora and food, Abigail flicked away the last vestige of hope that she was wrong about not being able to marry Guy. His mother spoke the truth.

  The world would not allow her to climb higher.

  Chapter 18

  Ten days! They had been searching for his cousin for ten days and still they had no leads as to Patrick’s whereabouts. Guy paced his study, letting the anger and bitterness feed his brain. Where could the man have gone?

  Perhaps Abigail was right. He had fled the country. No loss if he had, but Guy needed to be sure.

  Kit and his men had lost Patrick’s trail fifteen miles south when they hit the River Cam. He could have gone in any direction from there. Why would he go south?

  Worse still, Abigail had threatened to leave. She shared his bed nearly every night but she still would not agree to marry him. She insisted she would bring shame upon him, the family, and any children they had. He already brought shame to the family by being unable to read. What did it matter if there was more? But she would not listen.

  The library was now fully cataloged. Abigail had been working there too since Guy would not allow her into the forest. Not with Patrick still at large. It wasn’t safe.

  Only this morning she had suggested that she leave once Kit and Dora’s wedding was over. The wedding would take place tomorrow morning—both Dora and Kit would not wait any longer. Since he had restricted Abigail’s search for the Ghost Orchid she told him that she had no reason to stay. No reason! She could stay for him. She would come back in another year to find the Ghost Orchid. Come back! Another year!

  He stopped in front of the fire with his stomach churning. Everything was falling apart. He only had until tomorrow morning to persuade her to marry him alongside her daughter and Kit. He had the marriage license in his desk. His mother was no help, continuing to push Lady Margaret at him. While she was a lovely young woman, she was not Abigail.

  His latest idea, which Kit had been vehemently against, was to kidnap Abigail and race to Gretna Green. But with Patrick on the loose that was not a wise option.

  Lost in his misery he only just heard the sound of galloping hooves on the drive below. He strode to the window of his study and peered out, expecting to see Kit but it was—it was his friends Stephen Hornsby, Marquess of Clevedon, and Alexander Bracken, Duke of Bedford. What on earth were they doing here?

  Leaving his study he walked down the stairs to greet them. He reached the entrance hall just as Giles admitted them. He expected a smile but from the look on their faces it was more bad news.

  “Clevedon, Bedford, a pleasure. What brings you north in this heat?”

  Stephen handed his hat and gloves to Giles before looking round. “Urgent business, if you must know. Perhaps we could talk privately?”

  “We’ll use my study. Mother’s in the drawing room, and the library occupied.” He indicated they precede him up the stairs as he asked Giles to arrange some sustenance.

  Once they were seated in his study, Guy asked, “I hope everything is well with Penelope, Hestia, and the children?”

  Both men nodded. Alex looked at Stephen before saying, “This is a delicate matter but, having been good friends with your brother Reginald, he was at Eton with us, and the fact you helped save Stephen and me during our days in the Ottoman wars, we needed to come in person.”

  “Delicate matter?” Guy was at a loss. He trusted both these men, as he would a brother. They had been Reginald’s closest friends at school and when Alex and Stephen enlisted, Reginald offered the introduction. They looked out for Reginald’s younger brother.

  Stephen added, “I hope I am not interfering but I could not stand by and see…anyway, it’s you who is in trouble. Your cousin is in London spreading vile rumors about you. He’s using lawyers to challenge the trusteeship of your estate. I only know because he’s using the law firm that represents my family and I happened to see him there. When I asked what business he had with them, my lawyers told me. It is no secret apparently.”

  “You came all this way just to tell me that. You should have sent a missive instead. He may try making a case but he can’t win.”

  The two men looked worriedly at each other, and Alex finished his brandy in one gulp and indicated he’d like another.

  “The case he has outlined is damning,” Stephen urged.

  Guy raised an eyebrow. “How so?” But deep in his gut he knew the answer and his face began to heat.

  “He is saying that you cannot read. He says that you rely on your
army batman to read your documents for you, and that the batman tells you what to sign. Patrick has sworn that this Mr. Hunter is leading you astray and taking advantage of you. He is saying you are not fit to oversee the estate.”

  The room began to spin round him as his two friends looked at him, waiting for his denial. “You say he has begun proceedings?”

  Stephen blurted out, “He’s preparing to take the bloody case to the Lord Chancellor of the Court of Chancery. He’s going to petition to be made trustee of the estate, sighting your inability to read among other things.”

  Alex continued the story. “You need to get to London and put a stop to these lies. He’s also saying that Mr. Hunter is making you marry a Miss Abigail Pinehurst, the mother of Mr. Hunter’s fiancée, whose father’s name is unknown and could be one of many. It appears Abigail and her daughter were born in a brothel.” Alex looked at Stephen, and then at Guy.

  Guy said, “Two weeks ago my cousin tried to have me killed. He is after my title it appears. When that did not work, he kidnapped Miss Dora Pinehurst, Kit’s fiancée, and threatened to kill her if I did not sign over the running of my estate to him. Luckily Dora escaped and Patrick’s plan was foiled.”

  “Why didn’t you arrest the blighter?”

  “Patrick slipped through our clutches and we have been looking for him these past ten days to arrest him for her kidnapping.”

  Alex sat back in his chair. “Thank God. So none of what he is saying is true. I knew it was so. We must stop him immediately before this goes any further. Before it becomes public knowledge.”

  Stephen, ever the spy, was more reserved. “Hold on. Do you have proof of his illegal deeds?”

  “Only my servants, Mr. Hunter, and the Pinehurst women are aware of what happened.”

  “All the people he is saying have you under their thrall,” Stephen said dryly.

  He had a point.

  “We must stop this reaching the courts,” Alex pressed. “You can come to London and speak on your behalf. Tell your story.”

  “Not all of it is untrue.”

  The two men looked at him as if his words would be his last. He cleared his throat and began to tell them his tale. He left nothing out. When he finished the men sat silently staring at him.

  “I cannot believe it. You cannot read. But I worked with you in Spain. We only won that battle because of your strategies. Your insight into what the enemy was about to do…I fed that to the general. You were brilliant.”

  “I am not an idiot, Stephen. I just can’t read. I do have a good memory. If you hand me that pile of papers I will read it to you word for word.”

  “How can you do that?”

  “Kit reads it to me and I remember it. Usually he only has to read it to me once.”

  Alex drank more brandy. “Now I understand why Reginald never wrote to you while we were at school. I thought you were not close, but then he talked about you all the time. He loved receiving letters from you, I assume written by someone else.”

  Stephen banged his glass on the desk. “You must show them how capable you are. How you are clever enough to rule. With Alex and I vouching for you, the Chancery would be hard-pressed to doubt you or even care.”

  Guy shook his head. “The Chancery will be concerned that I must rely on another. If I had a younger brother to fill that role they would be happy. I can see their point. They don’t know Mr. Hunter like I do. They don’t understand the brotherhood that develops on the battlefields. They will see my cousin as a viable trustee—keeping the estate management within the family.”

  “Then we preempt them. Make me, the Duke of Bedford, your trustee. Other than a cursory visit to keep up pretenses, I’m more than happy to leave you and Mr. Hunter to run the estate. Everyone has seen what you’ve accomplished with the Merino sheep you imported. I shall be following suit, I must add.”

  “What a grand idea,” Stephen exclaimed. “We could tell Baron Eldon, the Lord Chancellor, you have been working with Alex on this in the months since your brother’s death, ensuring you have the best advisor. They are hardly likely to object to his appointment. Eldon likes me too, as he was a huge supporter of the war against Napoleon and I kept him updated.”

  “There is one more thing. I do indeed plan to marry Miss Abigail Pinehurst.” He hesitated and added, “And what they say about her is true. She was born in a brothel, was used as a child prostitute, and had Dora at the age of thirteen, but she is so much more than that. If you would just meet her…”

  Stephen sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. “This complicates things. If Patrick’s case goes before the courts, he will be painting you as someone unstable, mad even, you know he will. Her background would feed into his story of how Kit has you in the palm of his hand. For no earl would knowingly marry such a woman.” He put his hand up as Guy was about to object. “I’m not saying she is unworthy. I’m saying he will paint her as unworthy. I can see his strategy clearly. He will discredit Mr. Hunter as a person who is using you for money and position. He will show that Kit is using his wife’s mother to seduce you, and that you are controlled by them.”

  Alex’s face paled. “If he becomes trustee he could even use his power to have you thrown in an asylum. Oh, he wouldn’t do it right away, but I bet that’s his endgame. Money talks. He could pay any number of doctors to have you declared insane—an imbecile who cannot read. Easy to have someone killed in an asylum.” He leaned forward. “You must let me help you.”

  Guy closed his eyes. Patrick would drag Abigail and her past through the courts. She would be expected to appear, and she’d have to tell the world the horrors and derogations she survived. He could not do that to her.

  “If I apply to the Chancery myself and appoint Alex as my trustee, would that stop Patrick’s case reaching the courts? Would it ensure no trial?”

  “Yes. If Patrick wishes to challenge my appointment it would be my character on trial, not yours. I doubt the likes of Patrick Neville would take on the Duke of Bedford. He would need to have just cause to challenge a duke. It would ruin him if he lost and probably allow me to call for his banishment—attacking a peer.”

  Guy could hear his father laughing in his grave. His dream of running and managing the estate on his own were ashes in the flames of failure. If it wasn’t for Abigail he would let Patrick take him to court. He’d face his cousin any day and prove he was a better man. He’d prove he was a man capable of running his estate regardless of the fact he could not read.

  “I have three options. I can fight Patrick’s challenge in court. I can let you help me, Alex, by appointing you trustee. Or I can give Patrick what he wants.”

  “I bloody well hope it’s not the latter,” Stephen said. “Much simpler if we just killed him, but we are too honorable for that. Sometimes I hate that about us.”

  Alex eyed Guy warily. “Even if you appoint me trustee, you’ll be forever watching your back. A snake, even though it sheds its skin, is always a snake.”

  Guy pushed back his chair and stood. He held out his hand to Alex. “I will take you up on your generous offer. We need to avoid Patrick’s court case at all costs. I cannot have Abigail subjected to revealing her background. I won’t hurt her like that.”

  “Obviously I shall keep this confidential. No one need know I am your trustee or why.”

  “Thank you. Now I must go and pack. The sooner we head to London the better. I shall summon Giles and he can offer you refreshments. Would you like to rest before beginning your return journey?”

  Alex looked a bit sheepish. “I think we can afford to wait until tomorrow morning to go back to London. I had my lawyers begin the paperwork before I left. Just in case you thought it a prudent move. I’d like to stay and meet your Abigail. She sounds like an amazing woman.”

  Stephen added, “One night’s reprieve from the saddle would be ideal. I’d love to have a bath to remove the dust too.”

  “Of course. I shall summon Giles and see to some rooms for you.” />
  “In the meantime, can we discuss your ideas for the Merino? I was serious when I said I’d like to breed them into my flock.”

  With his decision made it was as if the weight of the world had lifted off his shoulders. He’d told Abigail that you protected the ones you loved. And while he would love to challenge Patrick, show the world that even though he could not read he was as good as any man and quite capable of running a hundred estates, he would not expose her to the scorn and ridicule that would follow.

  The fact that he had to have someone become his trustee because he could not read sat like a lump of stale bread in his gut. But it was better than letting Patrick win, or destroying the woman he loved.

  If he wanted to marry Abigail, and have her accepted, or at least not open to hostility, he could not expose her past. He needed to put her needs first. His pride was nothing when balanced against her happiness.

  He just wished this dark business with Patrick Neville was over. Even securing his estate would not take away the threat to his life, or God forbid if he had a son, his child.

  * * *

  —

  Abigail slipped off her robe and climbed naked into Guy’s bed. He was downstairs entertaining his friends after dinner, but she hoped he’d come up soon. Tonight she planned to pleasure him until he could not take any more. The goal, to ensure he never forgot her.

  Their time together was coming to an end, and selfish as she was, and a glutton for punishment, she wanted to spend as much of it as possible with him.

  She would stay for the wedding tomorrow. Then Dora and Molly and Kit would move into the gatehouse, their new home, a gift from Guy, and it would not be proper for her to stay here, especially as Lady Argyle knew she was not looking for the Ghost Orchid, due to Patrick’s villainy. Currently Guy’s mother was turning a blind eye to their relationship but she was dying to have Lady Margaret back for a visit. Abigail could not bear to be in the house watching Guy’s mother matchmake, when she was sharing his bed. And she would not be so two-faced to Lady Margaret.