A Lord Loves Again

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A Lord Loves Again Page 2

by McColl, Charity


  “It’s not proper, your grace. Your son and his wife might not welcome the thought of an outsider at such an intimate event.”

  “They were the ones who asked me if I had anyone that I wanted to invite and I gave them your name. When they wanted to know more, Hannah told them all about you. Now they also want to commission you to do a painting of them and my new granddaughter.”

  “You’re not being fair to me at all,” Doris could feel herself weakening. “I haven’t even done a painting of Lord Stanley, so how sure are they that I’m good at what I do?”

  “Because I told them, and Hannah supported me. She feels really badly about what happened the other day and urged me to ask you to please come. And if you could do the painting of her son, it would bring her so much joy.”

  Doris knew when she was defeated. Besides, the man had said he would keep coming until she said yes and the last thing she wanted was him patronising her studio on a daily basis. People might begin to talk, not that she cared really, but she didn’t want people asking too many questions.

  “Alright then, I promise that I’ll be there.”

  “That will be lovely, I’ll send a carriage for you because I don’t want you to be inconvenienced with regards to transportation.”

  “Thank you, my lord, er.. Victor,” she said when he gave her an intense look.

  He didn’t stay long after that and Doris found that she couldn’t continue to concentrate on her work. With a sigh, she cleaned her brushes and working area then locked up for the day, and went through the back door to her living quarters.

  She walked to her small fireplace and reached above it for the painting that dominated the whole space. She had done this particular painting as Paul lay battling for his life. He had fallen ill in their twentieth year of marriage and at first ignored all the symptoms. But when he suddenly lost the ability to feed and support himself, they knew it was something very serious.

  “Oh Paul, why did you have to die and leave me alone?” She wiped the tears from her eyes. Even though her husband had been much older than her, she had loved him deeply as she knew he loved her. He was her father’s solicitor and had taken care of her when her parents died just as she turned twelve. For ten years, he and his wife had been like parents to her and then Mrs. Ruth Graham died and Paul was inconsolable. At the time he had sent her to live with his sister because he said it wasn’t proper for a young beautiful woman to be in the home of a widower without a chaperone.

  For three years she had stayed away, but one day when he came to visit and check on her, she had followed him back home and refused to leave.

  “People will say you’re ruined. A young woman like you shouldn’t be living in the house of a widower. It’s just not right.”

  “Let them say whatever they want to say but if you send me back, I’ll only run away again,” she threatened.

  No amount of convincing by Paul or his sister would get her to return to the latter’s house and in the end they let her be. Two years later, she and Paul got married and lived a wonderful life together, even though they never had any children. He had treated her like a delicate object and no matter how many times she asked him to allow her become a mother, he wouldn’t agree.

  “You’re barely a child yourself,” he would tell her, in spite of her advancing years. He just didn’t want the thought of her being in pain of any kind. “I watched Ruth suffer through four miscarriages and it broke her spirit,” he finally told her one day. “When you came to live with us, she was so happy. You were like the daughter she never had. Now you’re married to me and I’m almost twenty years older than you. I can’t bear the thought of you being in pain of any kind, so we shall not talk about children at all.”

  “I would have made a good mother,” she told the painting. “And I wouldn’t be so lonely now that you’re gone. Why didn’t you want me to have children? I’m so lonely and alone,” she wept.

  When her tears were spent, she put the painting back and immediately went to bed for she felt a headache coming on. But she couldn’t sleep because images of Victor disturbed her peace of mind.

  What did the man want from her? She had seen attraction in his eyes but knew that his kind never married out of their social circles. Victor Murray was still a handsome and strong man and could get any woman he wanted. Why was he bothering at all with her, unless it was just to amuse himself for a while as he waited to marry someone else.

  Well, she would never be any man’s mistress, duke or not. Her upbringing and dignity wouldn’t allow her to be someone that a man turned to just for amusement. But it was strange that Victor wanted her to attend the christening of his granddaughter. A man never invited a prospective mistress to such family gatherings and it troubled her greatly. Just what was Lord Victor up to?

  4

  Raising Eyebrows

  From the moment Doris stepped into Victor’s manor, she regretted she had accepted the invitation. True it was a family gathering but the women were so well dressed in expensive gowns that she felt dowdy in the gown she had bought some year back and worn only twice before.

  It didn’t help matters when Victor fastened himself to her side and wouldn’t move away. Even his children raised their eyebrows at his blatant display of affection towards her. “People are staring at us,” she hissed at him at one point when he put his arm on the small of her back.

  “Let them stare,” he intentionally whispered loudly and Doris groaned inwardly. She was sure people, especially the women, were wondering what he was doing with her. Handsome, rich, a duke and she obviously a nonentity. Their minds must be ringing with thoughts that she was a gold digger.

  “Please don’t make them continue talking about us,” she begged. “Think about your son and his wife. This is their day and it shouldn’t be marred by gossip.”

  “When put like that it does make sense,” and he pulled his hand away.

  “Why don’t you go and circulate among your friends and family?”

  “I already did that twice, and besides, it isn’t my function as you pointed out. This day belongs to Mark and Amanda and little Chelsea. So, allow me to be your companion for now, until the end of the ceremony.”

  Doris didn’t have a rejoinder so she decided to just accept what was coming to her. Victor turned out to be such pleasant company that when it was time to leave, she felt as though she didn’t want to go.

  “Thank you very much for having me,” she told Mark and Amanda, touching the sleeping baby’s cheek gently. “You’ve got a beautiful baby and it will be a pleasure to do a painting of her whenever you’re ready.”

  The couple looked at each other and then smiled. “Actually, Hannah and I were talking and decided that we would like you to do a painting of our children together. Then when Mary’s child is born, you can do the same. And then, of course, individual paintings. The joint painting will be a memorial to our children in years to come so that they will always be close, no matter what.”

  “I’d love to do that, just let me know when you’re ready.”

  “Why don’t you come in next Saturday? Because of the scare that Hannah got, we don’t want to leave the home with our children unless it is extremely necessary.”

  “That’s alright. I could come in at around nine when Lord Stanley is at his peak, get the sketches and by the time the children need to take their lunches, I’ll be all done. The rest I will fill in from memory. In that way, the children don’t need to spend too much time with me and you can go on with your normal activities.”

  “Perfect,” Amanda handed her baby to her husband. “She gets so heavy when she’s sleeping.”

  “They all do,” Victor said. “You should have seen your husband when he was Chelsea’s age. A large baby who rarely settled down,” he chuckled at his son’s expression. “Frankly, I’m surprised that Chelsea is so peaceful and quiet. I had expected nights of prowling along the corridors like it was with Mark.”

  “Papa, you’ll make my wife think t
hat I’m a pain.”

  “But I still love you,” Amanda touched the tip of his nose and Doris saw the gentle and loving looks they exchanged. She longed for such love once again, and didn’t know that her eyes reflected her yearning.

  Victor saw the longing in Doris’s eyes and felt glad inwardly. He had wanted her around his family so she could open her heart and her eyes to the possibilities of love. Though he didn’t know much about her apart from the fact that she was a widow, he was aware that she had had a good marital life before. That was the reason she looked at peace and it showed in her paintings. Such a woman was made for loving and he found himself wanting to be the one to give her that love.

  “I need to leave now,” Doris said, turning to look at the other guests who were still lounging around. The sooner she left, the better it would be for her. She didn’t want any of the glaring matronly women to get a chance of cornering her. “Thank you so much for having me.”

  “And thank you for the gift you gave our baby,” Amanda pointed at the painting that someone had already hung on the living room wall. Doris had brought a painting of two adult doves with their little one, the perfect family.

  “It was my pleasure.”

  Victor led her out of the house and towards the same carriage that had brought her earlier in the day. “You’ve made me so happy, Doris. Thank you for coming and keeping me company, or else I would have been forced to lock myself in the study.”

  “Why?” Her eyes were full of curiosity. “Your guests seemed pleasant enough.”

  “You’re very kind for saying that, even though I could see that a number of them were really giving you dirty looks. You see, after Mary my daughter got married, suddenly everyone decided that it was my turn to find love. And that includes my own children. They imagined that I would be very lonely since I had devoted my life to taking care of them after my wife died. Now they feel that it’s their turn to take care of me, hence the many women you saw at the ceremony. Any spinster or widow known to my offspring got an invitation, and that was the reason I decided that I wanted you with me. In this way, they will all know that I’m not available.”

  “Oh!” Doris didn’t know what else to say.

  5

  Mysterious Messages

  Much as Doris wanted to believe that Victor Murray was interested in her, she wouldn’t get her hopes up. He clearly wasn’t the kind of man who would throw his emotions around, and she was looking for a deep abiding love like she had shared with Paul. Somehow she knew she had Victor’s attention but would never gain his love. He was still too much in love with his dead duchess for that to ever happen. It was evident from the portraits of her that still lined the walls of the manor.

  Then Doris silently berated herself; here she was getting jealous over a dead woman and yet all she had to go on was just mere interest.

  “I need to throw myself into my painting or else I’ll begin building castles in the air, only to have them tumbling down all over me,” she thought.

  It was Saturday, a day when she normally opened her studio early because of the many walk in clients who came, but on this particular day she decided to just laze around the house. That’s how it had been when Paul was alive. He wouldn’t go to his practice and they spent the day either gardening or seated in the drawing room, reading together. Sometimes she would paint but towards the end of his life, the fumes from the paint on her palette would make breathing difficult for him so she would have to take it outside.

  Ever since she was a child, she had thought that Paul Graham was the kind of man who would live forever. He’d always been there when she needed him and she found herself missing him so deeply that she didn’t realise that she was crying.

  The studio doorbell chimed and she hastily wiped her tears away. It must be a customer who had come to commission her for some work and she went to open it. There was no one standing outside, except a small package in the shape of a box on her step. Living on a busy street meant that there was a lot of coming and going and she looked around to see who might have dropped the box. Everyone was busy going somewhere and there wasn’t anyone suspiciously lurking around.

  She bent down and picked up the small package and shut the door. Not one who liked surprises, she quickly ripped the wrapping paper and opened the small carton box then recoiled in horror. There was a dead frog in the box and a note. Its throat had been slit open.

  “Leave The Duke alone, or else you’ll end up like this frog ….” The sinister warning chilled her blood and she sat down on the nearest surface which happened to be an upturned wooden crate in which she sometimes stored paintings when there wasn’t any space for them on the shelves.

  The handwriting was all scruffy so she couldn’t tell whether the note had been written by a woman or a man. The only thing she knew was that she was scared, because it was obvious someone wasn’t happy about her growing closeness with the duke.

  * * *

  “Leave Doris Graham alone, she can never belong to you.” Victor read and re-read the note, before folding it and placing it in the top drawer of his large desk. What was the meaning of the note, and who could have written it in the first place?

  Doris was a widow and he wasn’t aware that there was any other man in her life. So he was quite puzzled as to who would have brought the note up to the front door of his house without being seen by any of the servants or guards who roamed the estate. Unless it was someone right on his staff who had either written the note or else been sent to deliver it.

  “Father, you look quite troubled,” Mark entered the study, carrying his daughter. “Amanda and Hannah have some errands to run so we’re taking care of the little ones. George is coming in a few minutes with Stanley.”

  “Mmh!” Victor didn’t want to worry his sons because they were still dealing with the botched kidnapping attempt on Stanley. “Times are changing and it’s delightful to see that the children aren’t just relegated to the nursery like in olden days.”

  “In the olden days there were wars to be fought, estates to be dealt with and the menfolk seemed to be very busy. We’re slowly becoming a lazy lot because there’s no more war, and most estates are now securely in the possession of the owners. That leaves us with much more time to do things like,” he shrugged, “taking care of our offspring while our women do whatever they want to do.”

  “You sound like a contented man,” Victor smiled at his son and then looked towards the door as George came in with Stanley. “Here comes another one, just like the other one,” he chanted and then chuckled when his sons threw him mocking glares.

  “We were thinking about throwing a ball and inviting a number of friends,” George handed his son to his father. “What do you think?”

  Victor shook his head. “We still don’t know who was behind the kidnapping attempt and it could be anyone. Opening up the house would be exposing ourselves to unknown dangers. The only time I’ll rest easy is when the person behind all this is found. I could barely relax on the day of Chelsea’s christening.”

  “You looked the picture of calm and ease, the proud grandfather.”

  “Mark, at my age we learn to hide our emotions but I can tell you I was glad to see the last of the guests leave. In any case, I’m also wary of the staff so if you don’t mind letting your wives know, they shouldn’t leave the children in the care of the nurses or governesses unless they are present. Most of the trouble that occurs on estates is brought on by those close to the families.”

  His sons looked at him, both feeling that their father was hiding something. He wouldn’t tell them about the note but he would summon Elias. He somehow felt that his son-in-law would handle the latest threat better than his own sons.

  “Let’s hold off on the entertainment until we feel safer,” he said.

  Mark and George looked at each other. “Mary was just remarking the other day at how much you’ve changed in the past few weeks,” Mark put his daughter on his shoulder. “You seem different.”

&nb
sp; “I don’t know what you mean.”

  George snickered, “Father, does it have anything to do with the painter lady?”

  Victor felt himself flushing and pretended to be playing with his grandson so his sons wouldn’t see the expression on his face. “Mrs. Graham is a good friend, and has promised to paint my grandchildren.”

  “Still,” George went on. “It was odd how she was invited to Chelsea’s christening yet you’ve known her for only a short time.”

  “Amanda and your brother wanted her here after Hannah told them how good she was at her work. She needed to come here so I could introduce her to the family and so you wouldn’t see her as a stranger.”

  “If you say so, father,” George walked to the door. “I need to check on the horses in the stable and I hear a rider, no doubt it must be Elias. That man is here more than at his own house and I’m beginning to wonder if you and he don’t have some secrets you’re hiding, father.”

  “You were always the paranoid one, now go and let whoever it is in, then go to your horses. Mark and I can handle Stanley.”

  George was chuckling as he opened the front door for his brother-in-law. “I was just remarking to my father that you and he seem to have some secrets because you’re almost always here.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t be so much if your wife and Mark’s didn’t like to come home and dominate my mother and wife’s time. Your womenfolk are over there and I thought I should join the men instead of listening to all their female talk.”

  “Makes sense,” he pointed at the study. “Mark and papa are in there, I’m going to the stables to check on those horses I bought.”

  “I’ll see myself inside then.”

  6

 

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