The air changed as the day wore on.
The cake she’d had her cook make now looked hard and had gone untouched with two unused plates and cutlery set out.
She’d drank an entire pot of tea. The second pot sat cold. The fine china arrangement was one of the last expensive sets in the house. It was pearl-white with small pink flowers and golden vines.
Beautiful.
Camilla’s belly burned with the wish to toss the entire thing across the room. It was just what her mother had done with the other sets.
She could hear the crisp shattering of cups and plates as though the memory from years past were happening at that very moment.
The sound of the door opening had Camilla stand to her feet.
She thought it a trick when her father walked into the drawing room. Her heart raced. She blinked and made certain it was him and not her mother, that her mind wasn’t just showing her what she wanted to see as opposed to the truth.
But the truth was that Lord Hornstein was there and though he didn’t smile, Camilla couldn’t help but do so.
Her smile made his lips climb into a charming grin. But then he was bumped and Morgana appeared.
The little girl walked past the marquess and into the drawing room as though she’d opened it. Her blue gaze touched everything before landing on the cake at the table. “Oh, Father! Can I have some?”
“Of course.”
Morgana climbed into the chair and a maid came from somewhere else in the house and served the clapping child. Her dark hair bounced around her head. The striking dark color was a harsh and beautiful contrast to her pale skin and bright blue eyes.
Named after the sorceress from the King Arthur legends, she enchanted everyone she met. She seemed to enjoy everything. She was vibrant.
Her father had once said, “She’s like you, Camilla.” The words, which had surely been meant to make some sort of connection between the two of them, only made Camilla see the girl for what she truly was.
Her replacement.
Sadly, Camilla was far too kind to even think about mistreating the girl. The very thought turned her stomach. Morgana was a happy child. It wasn’t her fault that their father seemed to have forgotten all about Camilla.
As the girl began to stuff her mouth with the sweet, Camilla put her sour thoughts aside to look at her father. Once more, his smile was gone. He stood just over the threshold with a thoughtful look on his face. His gaze was on Morgana and the look was not happy.
A shiver of hope went through Camilla. Was her father regretting his choice to leave his family to make another? Was he regretting Morgana?
Her neck heated with embarrassment and guilt. “Would you like some tea?”
The maid brought another pot and Camilla motioned to the chair she’d been occupying.
Her father took it and Morgana immediately began to speak about anything and everything that came to her mind. Dogs. The sky. Flowers. The fair that their father had taken her to.
The table had been set for only two, which left nowhere for Camilla.
It paralleled her life.
Her father looked tired as he smiled up at Camilla and offered her his hand. “How are you?”
She stepped forward and gripped his fingers fiercely. “I’m…” She was upset. She’d waited for hours and now her sister was eating his cake. He hadn’t even looked at it.
This time was supposed to be about them, just the two of them, but now it wasn’t.
But she smiled in spite of that, because he was here and at least she’d been able to tell her brother that he’d come. She wouldn’t mention the wait to anyone, not her brother and surely not her father.
He was here and that was all that mattered.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Camilla said. “I’m always glad to see you.”
“I’m glad to see you as well.”
“Father,” Morgana cut in. “Why isn’t apple cake red? Apples are red.” She’d stolen the moment purposefully, not to hurt Camilla but because she liked attention.
“Apples come in many colors,” Lord Hornstein answered with an indulgent smile. “Green and yellow.”
“What’s your favorite shade of apple?” the little girl asked. It took a moment for Camilla to realize the girl was speaking to her.
“Oh… I…”
A footman appeared with a chair and she thanked him for it as her skin began to itch.
Morgana asked, “When can we go home? I want—”
“Soon,” he answered Morgana.
Camilla’s heart fell. Her mouth went dry. “You just got here.”
Hornstein looked at her and winked. Then he turned to Morgana. “Morgana, did you know that Camilla has a dollhouse upstairs? You should go and see it.” The dollhouse was in the nursery. The room remained unchanged. It had been left ready for the baby her mother had lost.
That had been around the time her father left.
Morgana gasped and stood up. A maid took her out of the room.
Camilla told herself she had no reason to be angered by the fact that Morgana was about to play with her things. Camilla no longer played with them. Also, this was clearly her father’s way of getting them alone. She understood that. She wanted to be alone with him as well.
“I’m glad you wrote me,” Camilla said. “I wanted to see you.”
Her father grinned, but it didn’t meet his eyes. His mind was elsewhere. “I don’t know what made me write to you. I just… I suppose I was thinking about how short life can be.”
She stilled. “What do you mean? Are you ill?” She hoped not.
Her father shook his head. “No, but Miss Walker is. It’s why I had to bring Morgana. I didn’t want her around her mother right now. She needs to rest.”
Camilla swallowed. She swallowed back her words and the many comments about how concerned her father was for his mistress and by-blow while Camilla and her mother got the scraps of his love.
“She looks like you, you know,” her father said. “Morgana, I mean. It’s the chin.” Her father tapped her own.
He’d said that before as well. “I don’t see it.” It was her usual answer.
“I’ve been looking for a woman,” her father said.
“Another?” Camilla pressed her lips together and prayed her father hadn’t caught onto her meaning.
But he had and he wasn’t pleased by her accusation. “No, a… botanist. I’m hoping she can make Julia better.”
Camilla didn’t know why her father was telling her this. While she’d stopped praying for Miss Walker’s death years ago, she wouldn’t shed a tear if the woman died.
The woman had destroyed her entire life, taking with her everything that mattered and ripping apart Camilla’s family.
If Miss Julia Walker died, Camilla would… She’d be happy. It was terrible but true. Camilla’s father didn’t belong there. He belonged at home with Mother and her.
The other woman was cruel to demand so much from him.
“Have you heard anything about any healers?” he asked.
“You mean doctors?” Were they really discussing Miss Walker’s health? She laughed. “Father, I’m sure you know more doctors than me.” Needing to end the subject, she said, “Dr. Yann has always served us well. I’m sure he’d be good enough for Miss Walker. Now, how is Lord Austin?” Austin was father’s best friend. “Have you seen him recently—”
Her father shook his head. “Dr. Yann will not do. Miss Walker needs something powerful. Not horse piss and chicken’s blood,” he said with a touch of anger.
Her small reserve of bitterness rose. “Well, if it’s a potion you need, why not ask Morgana to make you something?”
Her father narrowed his eyes. “You’re spending too much time with your mother.”
“I wonder why that is?” She screamed the words in her head but suppressed them. It was painful and burned her belly, but she managed to hold them back. “I don’t know any herbalist, Father.”
“But you
meet so many interesting people. You go to parties nearly every night. I allow you to socialize with other writers and artists. Surely, you’ve met someone who might know of a female botanist.” He lifted a brow.
Camilla blinked. “I don’t.”
She prayed this was not the reason for his visit, yet even as she prayed, she knew there was no point. She tried to take comfort in the fact that he’d come to her at all. He could have just written or even worse, not inquired with her at all. “How long has Miss Walker been ill?”
“For a while,” her father confessed. He looked at the cake. “A few months, actually. I’ve done everything I could. I confess, I’m at the end of my rope.”
Camilla had been the last resort. Her voice cracked. “Cake? Would you like…?”
He stood. “I should go. Morgana and I have been out all day. The girl…” He sighed. “So much energy.” He smiled down at Camilla. “She’s so much like you, Camilla.”
The sound of footsteps made Camilla turn, and she watched Morgana and the maid come into the drawing room.
“Her dollhouse is much smaller than mine,” the girl said. “Can we go home?”
“Yes.” Hornstein touched Camilla’s shoulder and then bent to kiss her head. “If you hear anything, come to me.”
She stood, smiled, and nodded. “I will.”
He left just five minutes before her mother walked into the house.
Camilla was still standing by the table.
Her mother took one look at it and knew. “He was here?” Her eyes rounded at Camilla. “He was here and you didn’t tell me?”
Camilla opened her mouth. And then a moment later, she burst into tears.
She felt ill, like she was dying. The pain was too great and made breathing painful. She’d have given it up if she could, but her crying demanded she breathe and wail and fall to the floor.
She didn’t hear a word Mother said. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but when she woke, Luke was there.
∫ ∫ ∫
2 2
* * *
Luke held Camilla as she cried.
He waited until night fell before he said, “I told you not to trust him. Even Lord Austin makes note that he’s always been a selfish man.”
Camilla sniffed. Her face felt raw and stung from all her rubbing. “But Morgana gets him.” Camilla didn’t care if he was selfish. She just wanted to be with him. “I know I’m too old to feel this way…”
“You’re not.” His arm tightened around her. “Women were made to be dependent on their menfolk. We are to provide them with their every need, not just shelter and food but general happiness.”
She smiled and hugged her brother. “Thank you for… everything.”
He set her away. Holding her arms, he said, “If I could replace him for the both of us, I would. But you must understand that just as surely as we can’t change him, he can’t change himself. He’ll always be this way, Camilla.”
She frowned. “He loves you, Luke. Why is it that you’re not on his side?”
“Father doesn’t love me. I just have something he wants.”
“What is that?” she asked.
“Connections.” Luke frowned. “You may not know this, but I was like you in the beginning. It is part of the reason I started making so many connections. Father wanted them. He thought he had a right to the political ties I made and at first, he did, but then I noted that our time together was never alone. There was always someone else he wanted.” He dropped his hands. “That is who he is and once I held that thing from him…” He shrugged. “He’s been trying to get close to me ever since.”
Luke had something their father wanted.
Camilla had had that as well. Her one successful book had aided their father’s popularity.
Now, she had nothing.
She doubted her new book would help him in any way. He hadn’t even asked about it. His mind had been on Miss Walker and the botanist.
“Do you know anything about this female doctor?”
“Female doctor?” Her brother lifted a brow. “Camilla, there’s no such thing.”
“He called her a healer. A botanist. She must have a garden or something…”
His brother’s eyes became so cold that Camilla’s heart stopped. “Camilla, don’t speak of this anymore.”
“Why?” she whispered.
He shook his head. “He had no right to drag you into this.” He cupped her cheek. “Promise me that you’ll let this go and you’ll say nothing about this woman doctor to anyone. Swear it to me. You’ll not go around asking for her on Father’s behalf.” He tightened his jaw. “I can’t believe he would… I’d call him out if I could.”
Camilla’s eyes widened. “Luke! What are you saying? You can’t call Father out.”
“I know I can’t.” He stood. “But this is a dangerous matter, Camilla. Swear to me you’ll not speak about it ever again, not even to me.”
“Luke, it’s a doctor. She’s likely a nurse or midwife with medicines—”
“Speak of it again and the man who takes out the rubbish will be the only person who reads your book.”
Her mouth fell open but then she closed it. Her brother’s rage made no sense and yet she decided not to push because he would stop her book from being published if she defied him.
It was the most maddening thing that men ruled the world.
Could she ever have anything that was just her own?
“Shall you be staying with me and Emily this evening or do you wish to continue your evening in Mother’s company?”
Camilla’s eyes widened. “You’ll let me come with you? What if she says no?”
“I’ll tell her to allow it.” He said the words so easily. His relaxed nature reminded her of Will. That power came without a gesture of grandeur. He was simply sure of what he could do and would see it done. He was their mother’s son, but they all knew that once Father died, she’d be dependent on him. They both would unless Camilla married.
“Thank you.” She stood. “I’ll have a maid pack my trunk.”
“Tell her to pack something pretty.” His smile was smooth.
And before she’d asked her question she knew the answer. “Are we trying to impress the duke?”
“No,” he drawled. “We’re trying to catch an earl.”
* * *
Will was in Van Dero’s office the next morning when a footman came in with a note in his hand. Will ignored him until the man turned and held the note out to him.
Will opened it.
“By the look of you, I’m going to guess the news you’re receiving is terrible,” the duke said.
Will stood. “I have visitors. They’re with Milly.” He struggled to keep calm. “Lord and Lady Tolkin... and his sister.”
Would he never be able to escape her? Just when he was finding it easier to think about anything other than her, fate presented her once more.
Van Dero nodded. “We’re done here. You may go.”
“I’ll hear what they have to say and then I’ll return.”
“No need to rush. Honestly, I don’t know what else there is to do at the moment. As you said, Hornstein has been on the hunt for Gloria and it seems she’s yet to make an appearance, much less a threat to the earl. Maybe she’s dead and if she’s not, we’re still out of clues.”
“But there are still incidences of strange poisonings happening,” Will said. “So if not Gloria…”
Van Dero frowned. “Let’s take a break from the matter for a moment. I’ll consult with a few of my officers and see what else there is to do.”
Having no other option, Will left the office. In the hall, he stretched his neck and shoulders. He took his time and then slowed his steps as Milly’s voice flowed from the room just up ahead.
Tolkin’s laughter joined that of the duchess.
Will paused just before the threshold. The footman who’d been leading the way didn’t and announced Will before he was ready.
He sighe
d and stepped into the bright room. Like Van Dero’s office, it faced east and allowed the morning’s sun rays in.
Will’s eyes found Camilla as she stood and bowed. He waited for her to lift her eyes again, but she didn’t.
“Lord Sencio.” Lord Tolkin stole his attention. “I came to apologize for last evening. It was brought to my attention that I may have upset you by announcing your title at dinner.”
Had Camilla told him to apologize? Had this been her idea?
He doubted it. It didn’t appear as though she wished to be here. They’d said their good-byes two nights ago. Or, he’d said his.
If she wished to leave, he would keep this meeting short.
“There was no need to come all this way, my lord,” Will said. And after a direct look from Milly, he added, “But I thank you nonetheless.” He sighed. “It was only a matter of time before London found out anyway.”
It had been in the paper yesterday morning. This morning, Will had received an obscene amount of invitations. He’d replied to none but had decided he’d stay in Van Dero’s residence for the time being.
He told himself he wasn’t hiding from Society, he just didn’t feel like dealing with them. Like the formality of being bowed to and called ‘my lord’ by a hundred people who had no respect for him as a man, only his title.
If his current mission called for him to be social, he would sort through the invitations and go where he thought the information on his target would be.
He looked at Camilla again. Her gaze was slowly crawling up his body. Up his legs, thighs, torso, chest, and then his face. She flushed and looked away.
Lord Tolkin smirked. The man didn’t bother to hide his thoughts and though few men could hide secrets from Will, he wished this man would.
“Lady Van Dero, I fell in love with your garden when last I was here,” Lady Tolkin said. “I was hoping I could show it to my husband.”
“Of course,” Milly said. “And I’ve added another flowerbed since your visit. Let me show it to you.”
Lord Tolkin turned to Camilla. “Stay here and write.”
Will noticed her red leather journal on the table.
“I could take them,” he said, even though he knew what they were all up to.
The Exception of an Earl Page 11
