“Eat dessert first, Mother,” Edward countered. “You’re always too full from luncheon to enjoy the best part of a meal.”
Hannah giggled and then placed a hand on her chest. “I think that might be the first time I’ve done that since...” She allowed the sentence to trail off as she suddenly sobered, her eyes brightening with tears.
“Oh, Mother,” Edward sighed.
“I cannot help it. I loved your father.”
Edward grimaced. Although he had lived at Harrington House long enough to know his parents felt affection for one another, he had always had the impression his mother felt trapped, as if she didn’t truly wish to be there. As if she had accepted his father’s suit when she would have preferred to accept someone else’s. That she would continue to claim a deep and abiding love for her late husband seemed odd to him.
“And this son appreciates having had parents who weren’t diddling with others, but—”
“Edward!” she admonished him, her mouth left open in shock.
Her son ignored her scold. “But there must be another man on this planet you could love just as much,” he said, his brows arched. “It’s time you allowed suitors.”
Hannah sucked in a breath, wondering how her son could know there had been another. A man she had known her entire life. A man she would have gladly married if he had ever bothered to propose. “He had his chance,” she whispered defensively.
Not much of one, but then, she hadn’t exactly had much of a choice, either. At least they had seen to an amiable parting and a reminder of their bargain.
Her bargain.
Although she was tempted to replay their last night together in her mind’s eye, she forced herself to remain in the present. “He was a good man,” she murmured. “Is a good man.” She hadn’t meant to make it sound as if he had died.
Edward’s eyes widened. “So... I guessed right?” he half-asked as he straightened in his chair.
Immediately regretting her words, Hannah shook her head. “I didn’t mean it like that, Ed. Honestly, I—”
“Who? Who had your heart? Who has your heart?”
She recoiled from the query and then turned her attention to pouring herself a cup of tea. Two lumps of sugar plopped into the steaming liquid before tears dripped from her eyes.
“Oh, damn, but I’m a dunderhead,” Edward said as he pulled a handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and passed it to her. “I’m so sorry, Mother. Please, forget I asked.”
Hannah sniffled as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I’m crying because I miss your father,” she claimed between soft sobs. “Every morning and every night.”
Edward dipped his head. He resisted the urge to ask about the time in between morning and night. “Be that as it may, you have my blessing if you wish to remarry, Mother,” he whispered.
Her dark blonde brows furrowing, Hannah regarded her son and allowed a sigh. “I appreciate your words, I do. Even if they are entirely unexpected. But I rather doubt there will be another husband for me.”
“Well, I can see I am the last to know when my heir is in residence,” a gruff voice sounded from the threshold.
Hannah and Edward turned to see Stanley Harrington, Earl of Mayfield, regarding them with a quirk.
Edward quickly stood and gave his grandfather a deep bow. “My lord, it’s so good to see you again.”
“Must be almost Easter,” Mayfield said as he moved to embrace his grandson.
“Today is Good Friday, in fact,” Edward replied. “I only just arrived a few moments ago. Can you afford time for some tea? Or would you like me to pour you a brandy?”
Mayfield glanced at Hannah and frowned. “A few minutes home, and you’ve already reduced your mother to tears?” he chided.
“Guilty as charged,” Edward replied with a shrug, his eyes downcast.
“It’s not you,” Mayfield whispered, patting Edward on the back. “Yes, I’ll take some tea,” he said loudly. “But only because it looks as if every cake in the house is on that tray.”
Despite her depressed disposition, Hannah grinned. “All except for one, which your grandson has managed to eat in all of three bites.”
“I would have said two,” Mayfield murmured in delight.
“I think cook must have known Edward was coming home today,” she added as she poured a cup for the earl. “I do hope we didn’t wake you from your nap?”
Mayfield scoffed. “Haven’t been back to bed yet. Not that I plan to. Not when Edward is home. We’ll have to play a round of billiards so I can learn what new shenanigans are happening at Eton.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “I’m not certain I wish to know what my son might be doing to get himself expelled,” she murmured.
“Mother, I’m not like that,” Edward assured her. “Not since...” He stopped and swallowed. “Well, ever since I became the heir-apparent. Wouldn’t be seemly to be caught dressing the statues in ladies’ gowns or acquiring white tickets.”
Hannah took a breath and let it out all at once. “Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice. “I know it must be terribly tempting.”
Edward screwed up his face in a grimace. “Mayhap when I was fourteen,” he replied. “Not now. I’ll be seventeen in a fortnight.”
“I recall painting the statue of Henry the Sixth in white wash when I was nearly seventeen,” Mayfield commented. “Wasn’t caught doing it, but I was still expelled for a month.”
Boggling at this bit of news, Edward didn’t know if he should laugh or look shocked. He managed a bit of both.
“Mayfield!” Hannah scolded, although a grin lifted the corners of her mouth. “White wash?”
“Now there’s the Lady Harrington I know,” Mayfield said with a hint of mischief.
Hannah was glad he hadn’t referred to her as the Dowager Baroness Harrington. She didn’t wish to be known as such until her son married and had a son of his own. And even then, she knew she would wince every time she heard the word ‘dowager.’
The earl and his countess had always been so welcoming. Even though she was merely the granddaughter of a duke, Hannah couldn’t help but think the Mayfields had wanted their Charles to marry a woman with closer ties to an aristocrat. An earl’s daughter. Or a marquess’ daughter. Even a duke’s daughter. Their son had deserved the very best.
Instead, Charles had courted her in earnest, claiming he had fallen in love with her at first sight. That even if she’d been a pauper’s daughter, he would have been honored to make her his baroness. His future countess.
Although Hannah hadn’t believed him at first, she soon learned his words were truth. He had proposed seven times over the course of seven days, each event a bit more elaborate than the one before, each ring featuring a unique and more expensive gemstone. Although she never wore all of them at the same time, she tried hard to wear one of them at least once a week.
It was the least she could do in memory of a man who had been near and dear, a friend and confidante, even if he hadn’t been much of a lover.
Perhaps Charlie had sensed she felt affection for another.
“Will you join us for luncheon?” Hannah asked of her father-in-law.
“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away,” Mayfield replied, responding to the invitation to luncheon. “Which reminds me. There are six new horses you’ll have to meet while you’re here, Edward. Comber has managed quite an interesting mix of lineages with this year’s colts.”
“Six?” Edward repeated in surprise. “You have room in the stables for that many new racers?”
Mayfield nodded. “Had Comber expand the stables at the country estate. The pasture is good there, and he’s got a crack groom seeing to their training,” the earl responded, referring to his son-in-law, Alistair Comber. Lady Julia, Mayfield’s only daughter and Edward’s aunt, had married the second son of the Earl of Aimsley over two decades ago.
“Speaking of Comber, I hear I missed a wedding,” Edward said, his manner suggesting he didn’t appreciate being
left out of a cousin’s nuptials.
“Juliet went and got herself an earl,” Mayfield said with a guffaw. “Married Christopher, Earl of Haddon. He’s Morganfield’s whelp, which means she’ll be a marchioness before too long.” His words were filled with pride as well as amusement. “Poor man apparently hit his head. Knocked some sense into him, and Juliet took advantage.”
Hannah inhaled sharply. “It wasn’t like that at all,” she argued, her eyes wide.
Edward couldn’t help but chuckle at hearing his grandfather’s words. From the letter he had received from Juliet, he had thought the marriage was more Haddon’s idea than his cousin’s. Apparently they suited one another, though. Her missive implied she was quite happy ensconced in a large townhouse at the corner of South Audley Street and Curzon Street. With any luck, he would see her at Lord Weatherstone’s ball—the first ball of the Season—this week.
“And what’s this I hear of Cousin Tom?”
A brilliant smile appeared on his mother’s face. “He managed to convince a duke’s daughter to marry him.”
“One of my classmates claims she’s a Somerset daughter,” Edward replied. “Can that be true?”
“Lady Victoria is now Lady Grandby,” Mayfield put in, one brow arched with admiration. “The duke’s youngest daughter. She trains race horses and is best friends with Juliet, so I’ll have competition at the races this year,” he added as he rolled his eyes. “I’ve always claimed I would never beat a woman, but...” he shook his head. “Comber has some of mine matching race course records,” he claimed. “So I’m not too worried.”
“A race course is a good location for a fair fight, Grandfather,” Edward replied.
Potter appeared on the parlor’s threshold. “Luncheon is served in the breakfast parlor,” he announced in a voice that wheezed.
Edward was quick to stand and offer an arm to his mother. “I shall pay a call on my Cousin Tom this very afternoon and give him my congratulations,” he said with a grin. “Seems I’ve missed much these past few months.”
“Such is the way of life sometimes,” Hannah murmured, taking his arm and allowing him to escort her to the breakfast parlor. When she was alongside the earl, he offered his arm and she gladly accepted.
Ensconced between the two men, Hannah had the impression the coming week would be full of surprises.
This day had certainly brought one.
Chapter 5
A Bargain Revealed
Meanwhile, back in Tom’s office
His brows furrowing with curiosity, Tom finished his brandy and called out to his secretary. “Mr. Adams, have the phaeton brought ’round. I’m off to Woodscastle and then to Fairmont Park, and I won’t return until the morning.”
Jasper Adams, secretary to both Gregory and Tom Grandby since Tom’s start at Grandby & Son, hurried to the door and said, “Right away, sir.”
He disappeared while Tom stared at his cousin. “I trust you’ll tell me about this bargain whilst we’re on the road?”
Graham’s green eyes narrowed a moment before he gave a nod. “Of course. And then you’ll tell me where I might find the baroness on the morrow.”
“That’s easy,” Tom replied as he stood up and gathered a few papers into a leather satchel. “Harrington House in Park Lane.” From his cousin’s reaction, Tom wondered what he had expected to hear.
“What’s she doing there?” Graham asked as his eyes widened. “Did Mayfield die, too?” he added, thinking perhaps Charles had inherited the earldom before his untimely death.
“No, but Uncle Charlie never acquired a house for them to move into. Their apartments were spacious enough, so they simply lived at Harrington House,” Tom explained. He pulled on his great coat. “As for your other question, Mayfield will probably live to be a hundred,” he stated, referring to Charles Harrington’s father. “Or at least as long as his countess is alive. He has no intention of allowing another man to get his hands on her.”
Graham stood, his body listing a bit before he managed to steady himself, the sensation of vertigo quickly passing. Despite having departed the ship at first light earlier that morning, his body still felt as if it were moving. “Still the horny bastard he was?”
“Only for his wife, apparently. Besides, Lady Mayfield still secretly edits The Tattler, and he knows if he does anything gossip-worthy, he’ll end up on the front page.”
Graham allowed a guffaw as he tucked his top hat beneath his arm. “Who inherits when he finally dies?”
Tom blinked. “Charlie’s son, of course.”
Graham wavered as another round of vertigo had him struggling to stay upright.
“You all right?”
A grimace appeared on Graham’s face. “I’m still getting my land legs back,” he complained, but his brows furrowed deeper. “Hannah... Hannah has a son?”
His cousin took a deep breath and finally allowed a nod. “Just the one. Edward. He’s... sixteen. Nearly seventeen, I think. Has a good head on his shoulders, though,” Tom added as he led them down the main corridor toward the front door. He placed his top hat on his head once they were outside, his gaze sweeping busy Oxford Street in search of his phaeton and the large black shire that pulled it. “They didn’t have any daughters.”
“Here, sir,” Bobby, the boy from the mews in back called out from the curb.
“Ah, here’s our ride,” Tom said as he hurried to the phaeton and gave the stableboy a coin.
But Graham didn’t make a move to climb onto the equipage, instead moving to stand in front of the largest horse he had ever seen. “Damnation,” he muttered.
“Actually, his name is Jake,” Tom said as he joined Graham to admire his horse. “Alistair Comber put me onto him. He couldn’t find another large enough to make a matched pair, and given his size, I only needed one of his kind for the phaeton.”
“Impressive,” Graham murmured, one of his hands reaching up to slide up the horse’s muzzle and along his cheek.
Jake knickered softly.
“Might I take the ribbons?” Graham asked as Tom moved to step up and onto the phaeton’s bench.
Tom allowed a shrug. “He doesn’t know the way to Woodscastle,” he warned.
“I might need reminding,” Graham countered with a guffaw. He easily mounted the phaeton and waited for his cousin to be seated before he urged the shire into motion. “Have you seen her lately?”
At first, Tom thought to question who he meant with his query, but he reasoned Graham was asking after Hannah. “Victoria and I had her out to Fairmont Park for dinner a fortnight ago. Cousin Edward wasn’t yet home from university, so I knew she would welcome a diversion,” he explained. “Only then did I discover she had been invited to dinner by every one of my sisters and two of my brothers over the course of the past month.”
Graham winced at the second mention of Edward. Although he had only just learned of the only son of Charles and Hannah, the reminder that Hannah had a child with her husband rankled. He couldn’t help but think she should have had his son.
“He’s an honorable young man, Graham,” Tom said in a quiet voice.
“As Hannah’s son, I would expect nothing less,” Graham replied as he directed Jake south towards the Knightsbridge Road. “Do you suppose you can arrange an introduction?”
Tom blinked. “I can. He’s probably in town by now, given Easter is the day after next. With the Season starting, there will be balls every night beginning this Tuesday.”
Graham furrowed a brow. “How does a sixteen-year-old receive invitations to balls?”
Sensing Graham’s annoyance, Tom said, “He’s an heir apparent. He’s amiable, clever, handsome, and has a small fortune. Every matron with a daughter barely old enough to marry will want an introduction, and probably the matrons as well.”
“I hate him already,” Graham murmured.
“I hadn’t noticed,” Tom countered with a roll of his eyes. “Just remember. He already has his mother’s love. No one will replace
him in that regard,” he warned. “But... Hannah is still a fairly young matron. There’s no reason to think she won’t welcome suitors now that she’s out of mourning.”
Graham allowed a heavy sigh. About to ask who those suitors might be, he couldn’t when Jake had to dodge a runaway cart and horse and two children who were darting in and out of various carriages and carts. “Is it always like this?” he asked in alarm, marveling at the amount of traffic he had to drive around or avoid in the intersections.
“I rarely drive this direction this time of the day,” Tom replied, glad for the change in topic. “I’m usually headed north, and Jake is always as anxious as I am to get to Fairmont Park.”
Graham gave him a questioning glance. “Attentive stableboy?”
Tom barked a laugh. “And my wife. As I mentioned earlier, Victoria trains horses,” he said. “For racing,” he added, waiting for Graham’s reaction.
He wasn’t disappointed.
“I thought you married a duke’s daughter.”
“I did. She is. Estranged for a time from Somerset, but now that her father is doing better—”
“What happened to Somerset?” Graham asked in alarm, referring to Jeremy Statton, Duke of Somerset.
“He was...” Tom sighed. “He was being poisoned,” he replied in a hushed voice.
Graham nearly pulled Jake to a halt as he regarded his cousin with a look of shock. “By whom?”
“Well, not his wife, if that’s what you were thinking,” Tom assured him. Elizabeth and Jeremy had a marriage well known for being a love match. “His heir, as it happens. Jeremiah gambled to excess and needed his inheritance to cover the vowels. Thought the fastest route might be Somerset’s early demise.”
“Good God,” Graham breathed, expertly driving Jake around a delivery cart that was stopped in the middle of the street. “Was he arrested? Or is he exempt from prosecution given his status as an heir?” This last was said with a sneer, a clear indication Graham didn’t agree with how aristocrats could avoid penalties despite having committed major crimes.
The Bargain of a Baroness Page 4
