The Baron and The Enchantress (An Enchantress Novel Book 3)

by Paullett Golden

  Lilith scoffed, “And what of those with parents who refuse? It is the girl who pays the price, not the parents. She is blamed for that which she knew nothing about and cast off, an outcast in her own family.”

  “Out to save the world?” Annick said with a mocking brow. “There’s nothing we can do about other people, but we can protect our own families. Stand by them and all that.” He stared intently at Lilith who held his gaze.

  Walter felt out of his depths.

  “Would you?” Lilith questioned her cousin.

  “Protect and stand by my family? I’m sitting here, am I not? Don’t doubt me. My own sister is an impressionable girl who fancies herself in love. It has taken me precious time to chaperone their encounters after discovering she had been sneaking off to meet him—aye, ‘tis true. I’ll not have some young buck compromise her because he wants a titled connection. If ought were to go awry, I would call out the boy, and then, I would stand by my sister. Or my daughter, should I have one. Or anyone else in my family. Say, a cousin, for instance.”

  Lilith sat up straighter, the corners of her mouth lifting. “You’re a rarity. I’m fortunate to have you for a cousin.”

  “Damn right you are,” Annick said with a slap of his knee before standing. As he turned to walk away, he pivoted back to Walter and said in a less than discreet whisper, “Don’t let that one get away, eh?” With a wink, he walked over to Lizbeth.

  The duke and duchess stayed for dinner, though they would not be staying for the night. The evening proceeded as normal with conversations that conveniently excluded Walter and Lilith, encouraging their own private discussion. Neither complained.

  Lilith relaxed gradually through the evening, her smile widening, her eyes brightening, her shoulders less rigid. She and Charlotte had even shared a brief conversation before dinner. Not that Walter intentionally eavesdropped, but what little of it he heard, they discussed music. He had a silent laugh since he recalled Lilith confessing herself as less than musically inclined.

  Since the talk in the parlor, he had been thinking about Lilith’s tendency to say all she ought not. Lizbeth had always had the same tendency, but even Liz had a limit to her discussions in mixed company. She also found a good match with Roddam, who was as blunt as she. Walter, however, was not blunt; he was polite. He was a gentleman. Several times, Lilith had accused him of being too stiff and proper, too formal, and perhaps she was right. However much he did not see himself that way, he was aware of the differences between him and Annick or him and Roddam. Roddam was blunt to the point of rudeness. Annick was blunt to the point of shocking. Walter was polite.

  These were not doubts of their future together; he knew she was the one and that they were well suited. These were merely observations of the gulf separating their social etiquette. Not insurmountable by any stretch, but certainly present and undeniably concerning. Would she prefer someone less inhibited? Would he be embarrassed by her?

  The real conundrum was the aspects that might embarrass him in a social situation were what attracted him to her. She was unlike anyone he had met. How could he simultaneously find her behavior attractive and embarrassing?

  Filling his fork with food, he leaned in to hear Lilith better over the din. She was telling him the progress of some of her patients, one little boy having taken his first steps earlier in the year. He loved the look in her eyes when she talked about her patients. There was an energy, a contagious passion that sparked to life in her expression. She spoke animatedly, using her hands to help convey her story. The whole of the conversation exemplified the quagmire he faced. No lady of the beau monde would speak animatedly, much less of patients or children, and certainly not while using their hands to speak. And yet, he found her tantalizing.

  Earlier in the conversation, they had exchanged ideas for his orphanage. His secretary had written regarding property for purchase that might prove an ideal location. Walter could scarcely believe it was all coming together so quickly. Lilith had remarked with a coy grin that she was on the verge of believing him in earnest.

  Charlotte spoke then, loud enough to be heard across the table as she addressed her sister. “Mama Catherine sends her best. She wants you to bring Lady Freya as soon as you are able.”

  Lizbeth said, “I had expected her to accompany you, to be honest. She accepted my invitation and included a lovely message.”

  Charlotte shook her head. “You know how she is.”

  “Yes, but why not come with the two of you? I will call on her soon, but it’s rather inconvenient. It could be several weeks before I feel comfortable taking Freya in a carriage.”

  “You know perfectly well she feels it improper,” Charlotte said after a taste of her wine.

  “I’m offended by that, Charlotte,” Liz said, putting down her cutlery. “If it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t all be together now. She’s the one who sent me to Allshire in the first place. And she knows how important family is to me and how much I want us all to be together. I shall return with you tonight and give her a piece of my mind.”

  After Liz’s outburst, all at the table listened to the exchange.

  Roddam interjected, “You most certainly will not. Let her stew in her own misery. If she wishes to be alone in the world, so be it. This is our family, not hers.”

  “It’s not right,” Liz said. “I’ll not have it. She cannot treat people this way. Freya is her great-niece, and Lilith is her niece. They are her family, and they deserve respect.”

  “Lizbeth,” Charlotte said with a laugh, “don’t be silly. You know very well she lives by the strict dictates of Society. It doesn’t matter that we accept Lilith. Mama Catherine will never acknowledge her as a niece.”

  Knowing it was not his place to defend her given they were not affianced, he felt protective all the same. How dare the woman not accept her own niece! It was not Lilith’s fault she had been shipped off to an orphanage, estranged from her family.

  “I say,” Walter cut in, “this is preposterous. If you’ll pardon my language, ladies, the woman can go to the devil if she’s going to hold her own niece’s time at an orphanage against her.”

  Roddam trumpeted, “Hear, hear. I propose a toast to Collingwood’s wisdom. To the devil with my aunt.” He raised his glass.

  “Sebastian!” Lizbeth hissed.

  Roddam smirked but put down his glass.

  “My mother has always been, shall we say, old fashioned,” Annick said. “We can’t expect Society to be as forward thinking as we are.”

  With a hand to her heart, Mama said, “I’m surprised to hear this sort of prejudice from the dowager duchess. I’ve grown fond of her and am shocked beyond words she would turn her back on her niece over a little time at an orphanage. It isn’t as though Lilith was an orphan. She was displaced! I’ll go with you, Lizzie, dear. I have a few choice words to share with her.”

  Charlotte tutted, “It’s nothing to do with the orphanage, of course. Mama Catherine could not give a fig about that.”

  “I can’t begin to understand that woman,” Mama said, huffing. “What in the good Lord’s name does she have against our Lilith?”

  The table fell silent, everyone looking at everyone else. Lilith caught Walter’s eye and held it. He was fit to be tied but gave her an encouraging smile. He had half a mind to accompany his mother and Lizbeth to say a few words of his own.

  In a clear and steady voice, her eyes level with Walter’s though she addressed his mother, Lilith said, “As you know, polite society does not recognize illegitimacy, my lady. And I am illegitimate.”

  Chapter 10

  Walter lunged with long-legged strides from room to room, his mind a jumble of contradictions. He had to find her. He had to speak with her. Determination silenced reason. He had to find her.

  After the declaration, Lilith had excused herself from dinner. Walter had been too dumbstruck to respond, to st
op her from leaving, or to follow her. They had all known. All except him, his mother, and his uncle. They had all known. Of course, they had known, for they were all her family, all except the three who were Lizbeth’s relations. And they had encouraged the match!

  Only when a maelstrom of voices stormed around him did he come to his senses and excuse himself to go after her.

  Room after room, he searched. No sign of her. She would have returned to her bedchamber, he realized through a haze of dim-wittedness. It was the one place he could not follow. As he turned into the gallery from the parlor, heading for the grand staircase, his mother stepped in front of him.

  “Walter, we need to talk.”

  “Can’t. Have to find her,” he stuttered, sidestepping her to traverse the gallery, a space that appeared to lengthen with each step.

  “You will stop and talk to me first,” she commanded.

  “Have to find her,” he repeated, one foot on the stairs, then another. “Have to tell her it doesn’t matter.”

  “Walter, you stop this minute and talk to me. It does matter. It changes everything. Come with me to the parlor.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I have to tell her.” Two steps at a time, he ascended.

  “Walter Alexander Hobbs!” His mother screeched from below.

  He halted, one step away from the top.

  “You do neither that girl nor yourself any favors by going to her. Into the parlor. Now.”

  Walter closed his eyes. An onslaught of dizziness had him reaching a hand for the railing to steady himself. Squeezing his eyes tighter, he gripped the banister until his fingers ached. How cruel was life?

  The memory of when he had learned of his father’s death blindsided him. Of all the things to think of in this moment, he thought of his father. He remembered taking him for granted, assuming he would always be there, assuming they had all the time in the world to be together. He could not equate his father’s death to this new blow, but how unfair life was to good people. How cruel of fate.

  A warm touch to his upper arm jolted him. His mother stared at him through knowing eyes, eyes of green, the same shade as his own.

  “Come,” she said, her tone firm, her touch soft.

  Nodding, he followed her to the parlor. She directed him to a chair by the hearth. Not until he sat did he realize he was shaking, chilled by the knowledge, angry at life, distraught by his powerlessness.

  They had the parlor to themselves. The others, he assumed, remained in the dining room, finishing their meal.

  “I can’t turn my back on her now,” Walter said, wanting to get in the first word before his mother attempted to dissuade him. “She needs me.”

  “I rather doubt that. She’s a grown woman capable of looking after herself.”

  “You’re turning on her? Just like her aunt?” Walter stared at his mother, incredulous.

  “I’ve said no such thing. If you’re going to put words in my mouth, we shan’t get far. Now is the time to listen, son.”

  Walter rested an elbow against the arm of the chair, covering his face with his hand. Sweeping the palm over his eyes and down to cover his mouth, he waited for his mother to speak ill of Lilith, to point out all the reasons they could never be together, even to warn him against being duped by a deceitful fortune hunter.

  “Do you love her?” his mother asked instead.

  With knitted brow, his eyes focusing somewhere beyond her head, he said, “Yes. No. Not as such. We’ve not known each other for long enough. But I’m in love with her, Mama, and in time, I will love her. Before you say a word against her, know that I’ve pursued her, not the other way around. Don’t think she’s tried to trap me. She’s not like that.”

  “Walter,” his mother said with a warning tone. “I’m not your enemy. Answer my questions, and then listen.”

  His eyes met hers. She stared back at him with a fierceness he had not seen since he was a boy. A loving fierceness. A protective mother hen who would shred any soul who crossed her family. He tugged at his sideburns, nodding.

  With a determined exhale, Mama said, “If you think this a passing fancy, an attraction based only on beauty, mystique, and proximity, you would do well to let her go. This is not a love story with a happy ending, my boy. Such a relationship with her, should you pursue it, would only lead to heartache.”

  He nodded but made no response.

  “There are any number of younger eligible ladies awaiting your acquaintance. Come next Season, we can begin in earnest to find your lady love.”

  His head, as though fitted with rockers, continued to nod of its own accord. He was not really listening. He had to find Lilith and tell her it did not matter. They could elope and be done with it. Society be damned.

  “I do find it surprising you would fall for a girl so independent and bold given your reservations of Lizzie over the years. However, if you are in love with the girl beyond the superficial, we will find a way.”

  Walter stopped nodding and stared wide-eyed at his mother. Had he misheard?

  His mother continued, “I know marrying for love is gauche, but as I’ve always told you, I married your father for love. I had hoped you would find such a match for yourself one day. What you must understand is love alone is not enough. There’s far more to a successful marriage. In this situation, love will never be enough. There will be repercussions. There will be consequences. This is not a decision to take lightly. This affects the entire family, and if not handled well, Society will drive you both apart.”

  He tucked a clenched fist beneath his chin. “With Roddam and Annick supporting her, and with you sponsoring her, they’ll have no choice but to accept her. Everyone looks to you. They value your opinion. Even so, Annick’s influence alone would be enough.”

  She gave a harsh laugh. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, but it will take far more than that. You cannot be naïve about this, Walter. Titled men do not marry illegitimate women. There will be a scandal, and it will affect everyone, not just you. The girl will receive nothing but censure—do you want to put her in a position where she is ridiculed? It is selfish, for she will suffer, and that tension would strain the marriage. She could grow to resent you. This must be handled carefully, Walter, very carefully. Think of how the scandal would affect your cousins and their children. Think of how it would affect your reputation in the House. You would be shunned. Think of the children you would have. They would be shunned. I’m not saying you must let her go. But I am saying this needs to be thought through. If you run to her now, careless and chivalrous, you will destroy many lives in the name of love. If you are willing to face the consequences, I will help you, but this will take planning, strategic planning.”

  “You’re assuming she would say yes. She may not want me,” Walter mumbled, staring at the rug, morbidly depressed.

  “Well, goodness. Why would she say no? Not only have you been the catch of the Season for years, and I say that because it’s true, not because I’m your mother, but lest you forget, she has no other options.”

  “Not so,” he said with a shake of his head. “She has her own life in Allshire, a life with which she’s content. I’m uncertain she would want aught to do with Society. It would be narcissistic to take credit, but I do think the changes we’ve seen in her of late have been her attempts to step a toe into our world to see how it feels, maybe to see if I would be worth the sacrifice.”

  “You? Worth the sacrifice?” She scoffed. “Good Lord. I’m not sure I like a woman thinking she must make sacrifices to be with you. She should be honored. Not to mention you would be the one making all the sacrifices.”

  “Mama, please.”

  She huffed.

  “Assuming she would want me, what can we do? This is hopeless, is it not? You’ve said it yourself. Society would tear us apart through scandal and censure.”

  His mother leaned agai
nst her chair back, something she rarely did, and thought for so long, Walter began to suspect she, too, realized there was nothing to be done. It was a hopeless situation.

  “I need to think this through. We all do. Discreetly, of course, for it does no one any good to make plans for a union with a woman who you think might reject you, but then, is there a reason to propose if we do not have a plan? Ah, which one is the cart and which the horse?”

  Leaning his head into his hand, he closed his eyes, wanting to shut out the past half hour.

  Mama continued talking. “When Lizzie and Sebastian were courting, I had any number of ladies recalling his sister to me. The Earl and Countess of Roddam brought both children to London for the Parliamentary Season each year until Lady Roddam died. After that time, Lord Roddam rarely came to London, and the children were not seen again until Sebastian inherited. He returned to take his seat in the House, but the girl was never seen again. All the ladies who spoke of the family knew the little girl as Lord and Lady Roddam’s daughter, not a by-blow of Lord Roddam. If I sponsor her introduction to Society, and we focus attention on her being the long-lost and reunited sister, it would feed the gossips enough not to question her parentage. They already know, or think they know, her parentage.”

  “So, we lie,” Walter said.

  “No, not lie. We simply never reveal the truth.”

  Walter groaned, raking his fingers through his hair. “Someone is bound to find out. They always do. If we can’t get Lady Annick to accept her own niece, we’ve no hope of succeeding. She will say something if no one else does. Who else knows? All of North England might know for all we’re aware.”

  “That is something we will need to confer with Sebastian and Lizzie.”

  “It’ll never work. Lilith will never agree to it.” He could not speak for Lilith, but from all he knew of her, she was too proud to live a lie.

  “If she’s in love with you, she might. If she loves you, she will. There will be gossip regardless, but we can redirect that scandal to be the discovery of the long-lost Roddam girl rather than the long-lost by-blow. There are factors to consider. Lady Annick is one of them. Lilith is another. She would need to be brought up to scratch. Thanks to her Mrs. Brighton, she’s not completely rustic, but she is certainly countrified and far too blunt with no awareness of what can and cannot be said in front of company—you must have noticed. With the right fashion and hairstyle, she’ll look the part. With lessons on etiquette, deportment, rules of precedence, and so forth, she will be respectable.”