Dread of The Earl (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book)

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Dread of The Earl (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 18

by Deborah Wilson


  He recognized it, that deadly look. He’d seen it in the mirror a time or two.

  Kent took her hand and then turned to George. “My father hated me, George.”

  George blinked and looked at Kent. Finally, a fresh emotion bloomed on his face. “He did?”

  Kent nodded. “For reasons unknown to me, he didn’t like me, but the fault does not lay with me, neither does it lay with you. You are a child just as I was. These feelings are not of your causing but his own.”

  George looked down, and his brows creased. “I just wish he’d love me.”

  Kent understood just as much as he understood there was nothing, he nor George could do to make it better. George would have to find a way to move on without his father just as Kent had.

  Kent said, “It may not mean much now, George, but you will always have your aunt and me. And now, I have the proof of that fact.”

  George looked at him. “What do you mean?”

  Kent slipped away from the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  3 7

  * * *

  Kent left them and went to his office. Mr. Maltsby’s solicitor had dropped off the revisions to the contract a few hours ago. Kent took the paper and returned to George.

  “Look here, it’s an agreement on guardianship.” Kent said. “It lists me and your Aunt Lucy.” Kent had made sure Lucy’s name was included just in case something happened to Kent. If he died, the law wouldn’t have respected Lucy as George’s guardian even if George had been of their own blood. For Lucy’s peace of mind and for caution alone, both their names were on the document.

  Lucy, who’d never read the paper before, was just as curious as George to see it.

  He sat on the bed and both Lucy and George moved close as he showed them the page. He didn’t bother reading through the details. Most of it, George wouldn’t understand anyway.

  “There.” He pointed at George’s name. “George Newpark.” Then he pointed to his and Lucy’s names. “You are officially ours now, George.” He looked at the boy. “That means, no one can ever take you away from us.”

  George reached for the sheet and Kent gave it to him. Lucy crowded him and smiled as the boy ran his fingers over his own name and grinned.

  Then Lucy looked up at him. Her eyes said things he couldn’t begin to understand, but he knew pleasure when he saw it. “Thank you.” The word was breathed with wonder and something that made Kent feel comforted.

  “You’re welcome.”

  George curled into his aunt and continued to hold the paper, staring at it in silence.

  “You can have it.” Kent said. “But keep it in a safe place.”

  Lucy began to lay down, taking George with her. She frowned up at Kent. “Don’t you need it?”

  “No. I had two contracts made. One for me and one for you. George can have mine.” Kent already knew where the boy belonged. It was George who would need the reassurance of his place for a while.

  “Go.” Lucy told him with a smile. “You’ve somewhere to be. I have George.” She knew about his meeting.

  “Are you certain?” Kent asked.

  She nodded.

  Already the boy’s eyes were drooping, but he couldn’t seem to stop staring at the contract.

  Seeing the boy was calm, Kent stood and left the room.

  * * *

  “What’s this number?” George asked a few minutes after Kent had left. He was pointing to a figure on the page. “Is it money?”

  Lucy’s swept the boy’s hair back and nodded. “Yes, George, it is.” And George had not been exchanged for some measly sum but a fortune. It was amazing to see it written on paper, to see her nephew’s worth to his own brother. She knew the number meant nothing to Kent. He’d have likely paid more to see George safe.

  George looked at her. “What can someone buy with that much money?”

  Lucy frowned. “That’s not important, George. What matters is—”

  “Please.” George looked at her. “What could you buy with that money? Please, tell me, Aunt Lucy.”

  Lucy shied and flicked away a tear. “Well, let’s see…” She stared at the number and had no clue where to begin. It truly was a fortune. “A young lord who had that much money and wished to dress the part of a dandy, live in the best flat in London, and go to all the best places in a stunning carriage with gleaming horses, could live without worry for at least ten years.”

  “Ten years?” George asked in awe.

  She nodded. “And you are worth that and more, George. There is no number that can compare to what if feels like to receive your smile.”

  He grinned.

  “See?” she asked with a laugh. “The joy I feel at having you in my life is without measure.”

  George looked at the sheet. “Uncle Kent paid a lot for me.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes and propped herself up on an elbow. “Yes, he did.”

  “He must like me a lot then.” George said.

  She grinned. “Of course, he does.”

  “Do you think he loves me as much as you love me?” George asked, hopefully. “Or, do you think he will? If I’m really good?”

  She prayed George never asked Kent that question. The boy would be crushed if he did. “Kent…” Lucy wasn’t sure how to explain to a boy how someone could grow up incapable of loving anyone. “Kent cares for your happiness, wishes to see you well, wants you near, and would go to great lengths to see it done. If that is not love, I’m not sure what is.”

  George’s grin made his eyes crinkle in the corners.

  “But, don’t ask him, my love.” Lucy rushed in to say. “Lord Kent is very…shy about his feelings.”

  “Shy?” George frowned. “I didn’t think he could get shy.”

  “Everyone is nervous about one thing or another.”

  “Not Uncle Kent.” George said proudly. “He’s the strongest man ever.”

  Lucy laughed. Strong and stubborn and completely wonderful. “Yes, he is.” She kissed George’s head. “Now, put the paper on the nightstand and go to sleep.”

  George leaned over to obey, placing the paper neatly on the nightstand before moving back into the crook of Lucy’s arm. His eyes were closed, and his breathing slowed within seconds, but Lucy did not sigh in relief until she took in just how relaxed his features were

  Kissing him again, she laid down, but her eyes caught sight of the paper. Kent had put her name on the contract. With the stroke of a pen, he’d given her everything she wanted in the world.

  And as she closed her eyes, Lucy knew it would be the best sleep she’d gotten in years.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  3 8

  * * *

  Kent ran up the steps to Astlen’s house. He was late, so was not at all surprised to find the other men assembled.

  He didn’t waste time speaking as he placed the papers on the table. “My men found very little. It would appear that wherever Maltsby is keeping the papers, they are well hidden. There only seemed to be papers pertaining to Lord Maltsby’s guilt. No one else was mentioned in any of the papers I went over.”

  Astlen slammed his fist on the desk. Rage burned in his eyes. “We should have sent your wife in. She probably knows all the hidden places.”

  Kent thought he could be right, but Lucy would still never enter that man’s home so long as he had air in his lungs. “No sense in going over a topic that is moot.”

  Astlen glared. Kent didn’t know how the man could be angrier than Kent. At least he was keeping his money. Kent suspected his funds would be safe with Lord Maltsby and likely invested wisely, but still. He wanted nothing more to do with the Gentlemen’s Society.

  He thought about Denhallow’s assessment of the duke again. Was Astlen beginning to break under his inability to find Lady Selena and the child she’d supposedly had? Kent could understand. He’d all but unraveled at the seams before Lucy finally presented herself.

  “In addition.” Kent went on. “There were a few
sheets with codes and figures. I was able to decipher one page. It was about us and the sums that were taken from our accounts.”

  Denhallow walked away from the window and picked up the sheet Kent had referred to. He looked it over. “Interesting. Yes, I see the code. Abbreviations of our names and the amounts Lord Maltsby claimed he stole.”

  “But what’s this other page?” Astlen asked, holding a different sheet. “These abbreviations and figures could be anyone and anything. Is it money taken from other lords or are these people responsible for taking our funds?”

  “I don’t know,” Kent said. There were four codes on the sheet. “One of the abbreviations is A.M. That could be Adam Maltsby, just as it could easily be anyone else.” But without a doubt, Lord Maltsby had been protecting someone.

  “It’s still good work.” Denhallow said. “I’d like to meet these men of yours, the ones who found these papers, if you don’t mind sharing them.”

  “I’ll ask Mr. Charles how he feels about meeting you.” Kent said. “He runs the group.”

  “These are the same gentlemen you had following us in the hopes of finding Lady Lucy, right?” Fawley asked from where he and Coalwater sat in a corner leaning over a chess table. “Where did you meet him?”

  Kent sighed and finally took a seat. He was drained from the scene with George. He’d never been so lost in his life.

  As he’d left the house, he’d begun to wonder if the contract would do more damage than healing now that George knew he’d been bargained for a price, as though he were a nothing more than a mule. He hoped George didn’t think Kent saw him that way. He hoped Lucy was able to explain that, but then again, how could she when he’d never told her how much he cared for the boy?

  Kent hadn’t been sure how deep his feelings for the boy had grown until he’d seen him in tears an hour ago. That heartbreaking scene would likely stay with Kent for years to come.

  Showing George the contract had been a move out of desperation and not one completely thought out. Just like the night he’d found Mr. Charles.

  “I met Mr. Charles at a tavern by the docks.” Kent said. Mr. Charles had offered his services, saying he knew a few soldiers who’d enjoy the coin Kent was offering.

  That had been enough.

  The only reason they’d not found Lucy was likely because Kent hadn’t known about Mr. Maltsby and Lucy had been an expert at hiding her secrets. Kent had had Mr. Charles follow Fawley, Coalwater, Denhallow, and Astlen, and ask around the town that Mr. Goody had kept them in. It had all led them nowhere. He’d been just as frustrated with Mr. Charles as he’d been with himself.

  “You don’t even know her real name?” Mr. Charles had asked in disbelief. “She never once whispered it to you? Three years and you know nothing more than the color of her eyes and hair? You don’t know her likes or dislikes? Not even her favorite scent or preferred meal of choice?

  Kent had known nothing, but he would know everything before the Season was over.

  “Is he trustworthy?” Astlen said. “What if he’s working for Maltsby? What if that is the reason he and his men found next to nothing?”

  “This is not nothing.” Denhallow said.

  Coalwater and Fawley had moved to stand behind Astlen and were reading the paper.

  Then suddenly, Coalwater smiled and snatched the paper from Denhallow before also taking the one from Astlen.

  “Hey!” Astlen shouted. “I was reading that—”

  “S-s-sssssum.” Coalwater closed his eyes and took a breath. Then he opened them and slammed both papers on the desk side by side. He looked at the men in the room. “Sss…. Ssss.” He frowned and looked at Fawley.

  “Slow down.” Fawley said in a calm voice. “It’ll come to you, man. Just breathe.”

  Coalwater took some breaths, but his eyes danced with too much excitement. He could not calm himself. Many thought Coalwater mute, but he wasn’t. Actually, Kent thought that was what the lord wished people to believe, that he couldn’t speak. If people thought he couldn’t speak, then they were more inclined not to ask him to.

  What Coalwater truly had an issue with was getting his brain to connect with his mouth. For some reason, it failed him repeatedly, especially when he was anxious. Having Mr. Goody as a caretaker for four years couldn’t have made the problem easier either.

  Coalwater’s bulging blue eyes begged Fawley to understand him. Fawley was usually his mouth.

  Fawley shrugged and looked at the papers. “S... “ He shrugged again. “I don’t know, man.”

  Coalwater was pointing. He ran his fingers over the list of figures over and over again. “Ssssa… Som.”

  “Sum? Same?” Fawley asked with a shake of his head. “But that’s impossible. The numbers are different…” His words were cut off when Coalwater wrapped him into a hug and swung him around the room.

  “Yes!” Coalwater shouted. He usually had little trouble saying yes or no. Those were the only two words that seemed readily available to him.

  “Same?” Astlen asked as he looked the numbers over.

  “Yes,” Coalwater said again.

  Asher’s fingers scrolled the sheets. “The numbers are different, but perhaps if we add each sheet up... The sums? The sums are the same?”

  Coalwater dropped Fawley and slapped Astlen on the back. Hard. He was grinning. “Yes!”

  Astlen flinched away. “All right. All right. I didn’t know you could do that sort of math so quickly in your head. You’ve been holding back.”

  Coalwater puffed his chest out.

  Kent chuckled and moved so he could see the papers.

  “So,” Denhallow said “if the numbers are the same then—”

  “It’s represents our money,” Astlen hissed. “Which means these are the men who stole it.”

  “And are likely the ones protecting Lord Maltsby now,” Kent said. “Did you know they’re allowing him to have valuables in his cell? He has a portrait of my wife’s sister in his cell.”

  “What?” Astlen shot to his feet. “I’ll speak to the Prime Minister at once! I want that man to hang.”

  “No more than anyone else.” Denhallow said.

  “No,” Astlen disagreed “much more than any of the rest of you.” He walked around the desk and stood in middle of the room. “Every day I go to that insufferable woman’s home—”

  “Whose house?” Fawley asked.

  “Lady Dorshea,” Denhallow supplied. “Lady Selena’s mother.”

  “Oh.” Fawley said in both distaste and understanding.

  “And every day,” Astlen went on “that woman tells me nothing! She’s still convinced that I ran out on Selena. Never mind the entire country knows that I was taken against my will.”

  “Can the courts not order Selena to present herself?” Kent asked. “She does have your child.”

  Astlen’s eyes widened. “You think I haven’t gone to the courts? I have, but do you know what Lord and Lady Dorshea both claim?” He moved forward and leaned on the tables. “They claim that they don’t know where their child is. They say she was taken.”

  Fawley sucked his teeth. “A likely story. Who would believe such an obvious ruse?” He grinned as he said the last, because they all knew the answer to that question. After what had happened to the very men in the room, someone else being stolen from their home remained a possibility.

  “But she has not been taken.” Astlen said. “Of this, I know. Every time I speak to the housekeeper, she reveals something more. I’ve been reduced to following the woman through the markets just to gain what adds up to nothing more than crumbs of the truth.” He pointed to Kent. “I want to meet your man. I want him to find Selena.”

  Kent frowned. “He didn’t find Lucy. What makes you think he’ll find Selena?”

  “Because I know everything there is to know about Selena. I know what makes her laugh, what she hates, her favorite places in and outside this city, and that she prefers sunsets to sunrises.” His eyes burned with more than anger. �
��She was not just someone that I met in passing. I…knew her.”

  Kent narrowed his eyes and tried to fight the twinge of jealousy that rose at the idea that Astlen knew Lady Selena more than Kent knew Lucy. But why would he be jealous of Astlen? He had the woman he wanted. It was Astlen who only had memories.

  The jealousy fell away and was replaced with sympathy.

  “We know you knew her.” Fawley said. “After all, you never denied the possibility of the child being yours.”

  Astlen turned his head and glared at him.

  Fawley lifted his hands. “But we didn’t know how close you were to the woman. Everyone knows you to be quite popular with them.”

  Astlen didn’t deny that either.

  Kent said, “I’ll bring Mr. Charles.”

  Astlen nodded.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  3 9

  * * *

  “You two seem to be getting alone well,” Anna said as she adjusted herself on the blanket.

  Lucy didn’t bother to hide her wide grin. “We are, actually.”

  At a short distance, George stood with Kent by the lake. They were having a picnic in Regent Park as guests of Astlen, who owed a coveted terrace on the inner circle of the park. From his balcony, one could look out and think they owned the entire expanse of the gardens, water, and grass.

  Fawley, Coalwater, and Denhallow were also there, and all seemed to have taken to George instantly, even including Miriam in the fun. In a month, the boy had gone from only having Lucy to having an additional aunt in Anna and five uncles who were clever and wise in their own ways.

  George enjoyed them all but had made it clear that he preferred Kent.

  The two were crouched on the bank as Kent pointed at the boat that floated on the water and explained something to him. Then suddenly, they both looked at her and Kent was speaking. George was nodding and shaking his head, answering some questions that Lucy couldn’t hear.

  What were her two men discussing?

  The day was dying slowly, the sun already beginning to peek between the trees, but no one seemed ready to leave. The air was warm, and the company was wonderful.

 

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