The Exception of an Earl

by Deborah Wilson

  The whole room choked with laughter.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  5 4

  * * *

  Will had to bend over to catch his knees. No one laughed harder than him. He still had her comment from the carriage for further context.

  Raven’s angry gaze held some questions. Perhaps he wondered if Camilla knew just what joke lay hidden in her words.

  “A lady’s whisper,” Christian barked. “My sister used that trick on my father all the time. It drove him mad. Eventually, he always asked her to say whatever it was she dared to say under her breath.”

  It was a clever trick, but Will had no intention of keeping Camilla quiet. He liked her thoughts. The way she thought was more than half the reason he wanted to marry her.

  “Miss Azalea has healed before,” Camilla said to bring the conversation back on task.

  “Who has she healed?” Christian asked.

  “Lady Ivers.”

  “Who?” the duke asked.

  Camilla pressed her lips together. There was still some nervousness in her gaze when she looked at the duke. “I… don’t actually know the woman’s full name. Ruth didn’t tell me.”

  “Well, she couldn’t have meant Lady Elizabeth Ivers. I saw her myself. There was no cure for what she has.”

  “What did she have?” Camilla asked.

  “A lump in her breast.”

  Camilla's eyes widened, either from the diagnosis or the fact that Christian had said ‘breast’ in her presence. But she quickly straightened when Raven gave her a look that begged the question, “Can you handle a simple conversation about breasts?”

  She turned away again.

  “How long ago was this?” Van Dero asked.

  “Last year. She should be dead by now.” The doctor was very matter-of-fact.

  “Someone go get me Lady Ivers,” Van Dero said.

  “Right now?” Camilla asked. “It’s really late.”

  “You’re right.” Van Dero actually looked sheepish. “Let’s wait until morning,” His words directed to the footmen who’d moved to do their lordship’s will. “I don’t think Lady Milly would like it if I started pulling respectable women from their beds in the middle of the night.”

  “If she’s even there at all,” Christian said. “I’d be surprised if she were still alive.”

  Camilla cringed. “Can we hope that she is?”

  “Of course,” the doctor said. “Not even I would prefer someone’s death to make a point. If Lady Ivers did see Azalea, we need to know.”

  “Thank you, Lady Camilla, for your assistance,” the duke said.

  Camilla bowed. “It was my fault Ruth got away. I let her. I hope she’s all right. I just wished to see my friend well.”

  “I pray your friend is returned with full health as well, my lady.”

  * * *

  “So this is the life of a spy?” Camilla asked. It was late, but she felt wide awake as Will settled her into the carriage.

  He looked tired but managed to smile. She thought about licking his dimples. Was that mad? “Partly.”

  “What’s next?”

  Will regarded her with a touch of humor. “Now, you sleep. You write. You don’t write. You’re done. Ruth is gone. That was the only reason you were involved at all.”

  Camilla fell back into her seat. “But… I want to be here when the duke speaks to Lady Ivers. I have to be. I have to make sure I was right to send Ruth away. Please, don’t keep me out.”

  “All right.”

  She opened her mouth to beg further but then smiled instead. “All right?”

  He shrugged. “Why not?”

  Why not? “Raven wouldn’t let me attend.” Had it been left up to Will’s friend, she’d been shut out.

  He was just like every other lord she knew. He was like Luke and all of Luke’s friends. She didn’t like him, but she couldn’t say that to Will.

  Will smiled. “Well, we can’t choose our family, now can we?”

  His words made her smile, because he had chosen Raven as his family, but it was love that tied them as brothers.

  “I suppose you’re right about family.” She certainly hadn’t chosen hers.

  “Could you see yourself inviting him to visit us for the holidays?” He wore a playful expression.

  The warmth that spread through Camilla had her more than willing to play along. She moved to sit beside him. “I would never deny you your family.”

  He bent down and touched his mouth to hers. “Thank you.”

  She hadn’t done anything. It was just a game.

  And yet, as she settled her head on his chest, she couldn’t help but think of just how real it all felt.

  Will held her and that felt more real than anything she’d experienced in a long time.

  Every moment with him woke more and more of her soul and reminded her there was so much about life worth living.

  * * *

  Camilla woke to eyes watching her.

  At first, she didn’t understand why she was seeing Morgana’s eyes.

  Sitting up only confused her further.

  Morgana was in her room and on her bed.

  Camilla cleared her throat. “What are you doing here?”

  “Father left me here.”

  “Why?”

  “I asked to come.”

  “Why?”

  Morgana blinked, the blue of her eyes like gems in the morning light. She didn’t answer though.

  Camilla shook her head and got up.

  Morgana had never been in her house while Lady Hornstein had been home, not as far as Camilla knew.

  “Did my mother see you?” Camilla started to panic as she dressed. “Did Lady Hornstein see you?” She could only imagine her mother’s reaction.

  Her mother had been so calm these last few days. Of course, her father would find new ways to test her.

  Morgana tightened her arms around the doll. “She sent me in here. She told me I had to stay here until you woke up. Can we go play now?”

  “Morgana, I’m not playing with you.” She stepped behind the screen to do her business and then came out to wash in the basin as best she could.

  “Why not?”

  “I… don’t have time.” She didn’t want to spend time with the girl. “Where is my father?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Camilla splashed water on her face and then dried it. She turned to look at Morgana, almost hoping the girl had been the end of a nightmare.

  But there she sat, as real as ever.

  “Is he downstairs?” Camilla asked.

  “He’s gone.”

  Camilla’s mouth fell open. “No!” She pointed at Morgana and then dashed from the room.

  She didn’t care if the girl followed.

  And then she thought better of that and told the girl, “Stay here!” Then she went to find her mother.

  Her mother was at breakfast. Her plate was empty. She was drinking tea. She looked perfectly calm, but her eyes burned with anger. “Did you receive your father’s gift?”

  “How could he!”

  Her mother smiled. “This is what happens when I am kind. It seems he is taking advantage.”

  Camilla scoffed. “She can’t stay here. Right? You’re going to send her back, aren’t you?”

  “There’s no one to watch her. Julia is dying.” Her mother made a face. “She’ll have no one when they’re both gone, you know. The servants who are there are only there out of loyalty to your grandfather. They were the only servants who would go with your father, but they detest working in a house of ill repute. Your father’s housekeeper warned me when she came over to speak to our butler about the accounts. They won’t care for Morgana once he’s gone.”

  “I’m not watching her!” It was easier to focus on Morgana than her dying father. “We’ll hire someone for her.”

  “Who?” her mother asked. “No governess with any reputation will watch the earl’s by-blow. Therefore, we’d have to find someone w
ithout credentials.” She pulled in a breath. “I suppose we could send her to some woman in St. Giles and pay for her care there. Those people are desperate. They’ll do anything for coin.”

  Camilla cringed. Her mother’s words were true. They’d do anything for coin, including selling Morgana. “What about Luke and Emily?”

  “I suppose, if Emily is willing, she can live there. But she’s at her charity event today and Luke is a man. A man does not care for his own children, much less his father’s bastards.”

  Camilla crossed her arms. “The girl has already taken everything else from me. I won’t give her my time as well.”

  Her mother looked past her.

  Camilla turned around to see Morgana standing at the door.

  Morgana’s eyes were filled with tears.

  Camilla covered her mouth, but it was too late.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  5 5

  * * *

  Morgana ran away crying.

  Camilla had hurt her. She hadn’t meant to, but she hadn’t been careful not to either.

  It simply wasn’t fair. Why was this all on her? What did she have to be the strong one? Why couldn’t she be mean or simply not care? Why did she care that the girl was hurting?

  “It’s not fair,” she said out loud. There were times when it seemed like no one cared about her.

  “No, it’s usually not. Not for the strong ones.” Her mother took another sip of her tea. “What are you going to do?”

  “You mean, you actually approve of her being here?”

  “So long as I don’t have to actually see her.” Her mother lifted her hand. “Not even I’m strong enough for that. Not now.”

  Camilla understood. The girl looked like her mother. “I don’t want to be around her any more than you do.” Her concern for Morgana made her feel disloyal to her mother.

  Lady Hornstein shrugged. “Then send her home.”

  Camilla left the breakfast room and went in search of her little sister.

  She wasn’t too hard to find.

  Morgana’s sniffing could still be heard. It came from a closet in the hall by the back door.

  A footman stood blocking the exit to the street. “She tried to escape.”

  Camilla’s feet halted at the same time her heart did. She couldn’t help but wonder what dangers could have befallen the child. If there hadn’t been someone to keep her in the house…

  Did she run away often or was this the first time?

  She thought about the other day when Morgana had run to her. The front door had been right at Camilla’s back and there’d been no servants to guard it.

  Camilla opened the closet door and found the grieving child huddled against the floor. Her face was buried in her knees. Dark curls spiraled around her shoulders.

  Her small frame shook with every sob, and she rocked on her heels, murmuring.

  Camilla knelt down but didn’t touch her. She said nothing, but eventually, she sat on the floor. She didn’t know what to do. She had no connection with the girl and didn’t want to establish one, honestly.

  It was like her mother said. Any kindness she showed Morgana would only hurt Camilla further. The girl already had so much.

  But as Morgana lifted her head, her lost blue eyes spoke of a different story.

  She didn’t have anyone either.

  Was Camilla a fool to think her father had treated Morgana better? She remembered the way he’d shouted at her at their house.

  Something was terribly wrong with Lord Hornstein. He’d never spoken to Camilla that way, not as far as she could remember.

  Morgana’s small face crumbled. “Nobody wants me.”

  The glass case that Camilla had tried to put around her heart shattered. She

  couldn’t speak. She simply held out her arms.

  Morgana rushed into them. Her desperate fingers clung to Camilla. So starved for love she would even dare to seek it from the last person who’d wounded her.

  Camilla cried over her sister and was once again struck by the truth of Morgana’s pitiful existence. There would be no choices for her as she got older. She would never be allowed to play with other girls. She’d never marry and unless Camilla or Luke showed her mercy, she would starve to death.

  She’d be like the many children who lined the streets in St. Giles.

  She could see Morgana, dirty and abused. Her thin limbs growing thinner with starvation. Her belly bloating from the hunger.

  Maybe she could work in a factory, but eventually, she’d likely end up like her mother. She’d become some man’s doxy but live far less lavishly than her mother ever had.

  Could Camilla truly leave the child to such a fate?

  She asked herself what made Morgana different from all the other children who faced the same plight? But the answer was evident in the way Morgana clung to her.

  And in the fact that Morgana had asked to come to her.

  Morgana was, in fact, her sister.

  Camilla wiped her own face before doing the same with Morgana. “It’s all right,” she whispered. “You’re going to be all right.”

  Morgana blinked. “Will you play with me?”

  A denial pressed upon her heart but she fought the urge. She swallowed. “All right.”

  Morgana sniffed and grabbed the doll she’d discarded on the floor. She began to fix the doll’s blond hair.

  “She’s very pretty,” Camilla told her.

  Morgana sniffed and nodded.

  Camilla had never played with a child before. She was dearly lost. “What’s her name?”

  “Isadora.”

  “Oh, that’s my name.” Camilla Isadora James.

  When her mother was upset, she never let Camilla forget it.

  “I know,” Morgana said.

  Camilla pushed a wet curl from Morgana’s face. “You do?”

  “Father told me.” She wiped her nose with the back of her glove. The act made Camilla cringe, but she listened as Morgana spoke. “I was going to name her Camilla, but he said Mother wouldn’t like that.”

  Camilla stopped breathing as something warm settled over her. Once again, her eyes began to burn.

  “Is there something I should know about this closet?”

  Camilla gasped and looked up at Will.

  * * *

  Will crouched down by the women in the closet. When he’d arrived, the butler had told him Lady Camilla was indisposed. There’d been a sour note in his expression and his words had come across bitterly.

  Refusing to leave until his questions were answered, he was directed to her mother. Lady Hornstein had then instructed the butler to take him to Camilla.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  Morgana pressed closer to her sister, which seemed impossible since the girl was already in Camilla’s lap. She watched Will warily.

  He turned back to Camilla. He hadn’t expected to find her with Morgana. There were a hundred questions in his mind at the sight of her, but he supposed he’d have to wait to get the answers. “You said you wanted to be there when the duke questioned Lady Ivers.”

  “Oh, I forgot. Yes, I want to be there.”

  Morgana cut in with panic in her blue eyes. “Camilla, you said you’d play with me.”

  Camilla looked at her sister. Her hesitant nature around the girl made it clear to Will just how hard this was for her. He knew she didn’t like Morgana. Morgana’s place in the world had destined her for a life of disdain.

  Why was Morgana with her now? Who was supposed to be watching the girl? Surely, not Camilla.

  “We can play later,” Camilla said with false brightness.

  The girl’s bottom lip began to tremble. She likely heard the lie. She’d likely heard the same lie repeatedly.

  Will was usually immune to weeping, yet though it might anger Camilla… he was not immune to Morgana. The fact was, Morgana looked like Camilla. The coloring was different as were the eye shape and even the nose, but the jawlines were the same.


  “Why are you in the closet?” Will asked. “Are you hiding from someone?”

  Morgana leaned her head on Camilla, still shying away from Will. The act was endearing.

  “Was it a giant?” he asked. “Or maybe a magical fairy.”

  Morgana watched him. “There’s no such thing as fairies.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded.

  “What of giants? Are they real?”

  She blinked. “You’re a giant.”

  He chuckled.

  The girl’s eyes widened and then she smiled.

  Camilla said, “Stop using your dimples on defenseless women.”

  He turned to her. “Is that what I’m doing?”

  She turned her gray eyes to slits. “You know you are.” She grinned.

  “Is that what I did to you?” he inquired.

  She blushed. “Perhaps.”

  Morgana sat up. “Are you going to play with us?”

  Will lifted a brow. “Perhaps, another time. At the moment, we must go.”

  Morgana looked panicked again.

  “I can’t leave her.” Camilla sighed. “You’ll have to go without me.”

  Morgana looked between them.

  Will did the same and then made a decision. “She can come as well.”

  Camilla’s mouth fell open. “No, she can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “She’s…” Camilla frowned. “You know what she is.”

  A love child.

  “Van Dero won’t care.”

  “How can you be sure?” Camilla asked doubtfully.

  “She wouldn’t be the first who stepped foot into his home.” He stood and held out his hands.

  Morgana took one hand and Camilla took the other. “We have to get ready,” she said as she moved her sister toward her room.

  “I’ll wait in the drawing room.”

  He watched them disappear around a corner, but Morgana’s question still reached his ear.

  “Is that your husband?”

  Will would have given anything to hear the reply to that.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

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  * * *