The Caress of a Commander [retail]

by Linda Rae Sande

  Chapter 29

  A Brother Visits a Sister

  Meanwhile, in Oxfordshire

  Henry Forster, Earl of Gisborn regarded the team of four horses pulling his latest invention and finally glanced over at his wife. “Is it how you imagined it would be?” he asked, his hand seeking hers so that he could intertwine his fingers with her slender ones. He smiled as she angled her head against his shoulder.

  “It’s a bit larger than I imagined, in fact,” Hannah Slater Forster, Countess of Gisborn, replied as she watched the groom complete his work to harness the draft horses to the wide plow. Besides the axle that sported a series of discs, each mounted at an angle, there was a set of wheels at either end. Above the axle, a framework arced up to a central bench from which a person could drive the team of horses. “And rather high for the driver.” She absently drew the fingers of her right hand through the hair atop her dog’s head, the two-year-old Alpenmastiff dutifully stationed next to where she stood.

  Harold was hopelessly devoted to his mistress. He followed her slipper-clad heels wherever she went.

  Well, except for the earl’s bedchamber. He wasn’t allowed in there, but instead spent his nights in her bedchamber or in the dressing room that connected the two rooms.

  The earl nodded. “Heavy, as well, but it couldn’t be helped,” he said as his attention was suddenly drawn to a man leading a horse along the lane in front of Gisborn Hall. There was a woman and a young boy perched on the small horse. “Now, who might this be?” he murmured, not recognizing the couple nor the child.

  Harold’s eyes lifted before he turned and regarded the intruders. He let out a ‘woof ’ before he bounded in their direction, his tail wagging in circles.

  Hannah turned to follow his gaze and Harold’s direction of travel, her brows furrowing at the odd sight.

  “Harold! Heel!” she called out, afraid the large dog might do harm to the people on the lane. Her eyes widened, though, and she suddenly gasped. She took off running in the direction of the visitors, her skirts bunched up into her fists so her ankles were on display as she made her way down the slight hillock to the road below.

  “Hannah!” Henry called out, stunned by her sudden departure but rather glad Harold was far ahead of her. However, once Harold reached the man, his tail wagged furiously, as if he recognized their visitors.

  Frowning, Henry followed Hannah down the incline to the road, but did so at a steady walk. He had only gone a few steps when he witnessed Hannah throwing her arms around the man, who swung her about so her feet were off the ground for almost an entire revolution. Jealousy had him quickening his pace so that he was nearly running when he reached his wife. The sound of her soft laughter had him even more incensed. Who the hell would dare lift his wife from the ground and twirl her around in such an indecorous manner? And why was Hannah allowing it?

  Welcoming it, even?

  Even Harold bounced about, as if he knew the man.

  But how could that be? Harold only knew the men who worked in the fields nearest Gisborn Hall. And he knew Thomas Cavanaugh, the man from whom Henry had purchased the Alpenmastiff after Tom’s dog, Maggie, had given birth to a litter two years ago.

  Henry was about to scold the interloper and bodily remove his wife from the man’s hold when the visitor suddenly put down Hannah and sobered, apparently realizing his life might be in danger.

  “Good day, my lord,” Will Slater said with a nod, a bit breathless. “’Bout time I met my brother. I am Bellingham. Hannah’s brother,” he added, thinking the man with the rather fierce expression who stood before him needed additional information as to his relationship with Hannah. “I apologize. I haven’t seen her in nearly four years.”

  The anger flowed out of Henry in an instant, his face brightening as he heard the words. “Oh, well, that’s a relief. I thought I was going to have to meet you with pistols at dawn,” he replied before he leaned forward, his outstretched right hand clasping Will’s. “Henry Forster,” he added. After a quick perusal of Will, Henry wondered why he hadn’t met the man whilst at school. He appeared to be about the same age as Henry. “Oxford or Cambridge?” he asked, expecting the man to say, “Cambridge.” Henry had attended Oxford, of course.

  Will shook his head. “Royal Naval Academy,” he responded as he made his way to the other side of the horse. Harold followed on his heels, his tail wagging furiously. “Just resigned my commission and returned to London a few days ago,” he added. He lifted his arms so that he could grasp Barbara’s waist and lower her from the horse.

  From the look in her eyes, he knew she didn’t want to be introduced to his family. Given the poor state of her gown, and the worn out clothes her son wore, she was probably feeling a bit embarrassed.

  “No need to be nervous,” Will whispered so that only she could hear. “He’s a farmer. And this is...” He glanced down at the dog. “Harold, I think, although he looks a bit too young to be the Harold I remember.”

  “He’s an earl,” Barbara countered, attempting to tamp down the panic she felt. What if the man had been in London when she was forced to flee? What if he knew why she had left London all those years ago? What if he knows about my father?

  “And this is my betrothed, Lady Barbara Higgins,” Will said as he led her to stand before his sister and Henry.

  Barbara struggled to bob a curtsy after having spent the last two miles on the horse, gratified when she realized the earl and countess had their eyes downcast as they formally curtsied and bowed in response.

  Hannah could barely contain her excitement. “A sister!” she cried out, moving to take Barbara into her arms. “Oh, Will Slater, you are in so much trouble,” she said before she released the rather startled Barbara from her grasp. “You’ve no doubt been engaged since before you left London,” she accused, her attention suddenly going to the young boy who stood staring at all of them. Harold was sniffing him from head to toe, his tail wagging the entire time. She winked in his direction, wondering if he was merely a very young stable hand or a relative of Barbara’s.

  Will took a deep breath before nodding, noting Barbara’s stunned glance in his direction. “Something like that,” he said lamely. He turned when he realized Donald was still standing next to the horse, his hands gripped around Thunderbolt’s lead as Harold sat next to him. “And this...” He paused, not sure how to introduce Donald.

  “This is Donald,” Barbara said with a nod, clasping a hand around the young boy’s bony shoulders and pulling him close. Harold repositioned himself so as to sit next to the boy, his tongue hanging out one side of this mouth.

  Hannah was quick to crouch down so that she was eye-level with the boy. “It’s very good to meet you, Master Donald. I am Lady Gisborn...” She paused to gesture to her husband. “And this is my husband, Lord Gisborn.”

  Donald’s glance darted between Hannah and Henry before he gave a formal bow. “It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, my lady, my lord,” he said, his delivery as practiced as if he lived at court.

  But Hannah wasn’t paying as much attention to his bow as she was to his face. His eyes. His hair. The shape of his chin. For the young boy looked just like her brother did in the miniature of him as a boy that decorated her mother’s bedchamber.

  She glanced at Harold, rather surprised her dog was so accepting of their visitors. He should have been on alert. Should have acted to protect her. Should have at least barked! Instead, he had welcomed their visitors. Acted as if he knew them.

  But, how could that be?

  From what Will had said in his introduction, her brother wasn’t yet married to Barbara. So where was her chaperone? Or a companion? Daring another glance at Barbara, she noted the worn gown she wore, hints of recent repairs to the hem and sleeves, the slippers that looked as if they should have been given to a dog to use as a chew toy long ago.

  Pasting a smile on her face, Hannah stood up and turned her attention back to Barbara and her brother. “Do come in for tea,” she insisted,
her gaze going back to the horse. Although a saddlebag hung from behind the saddle, there was no evidence of a valise or any other luggage indicating they intended to stay.

  So from where had they come?

  “Will, it’s past time you met your nephew. Are your trunks coming in a coach?” she asked, her gaze directed back along the road on which they had traveled, the little-used lane that made its way along the north edge of the former Ellsworth Park property.

  Will stutter-stepped before he shook his head. “Truth be told, we weren’t sure we would find you, sister,” he replied quickly. “Father’s directions weren’t very exact, I’m afraid, which makes me think he hasn’t yet paid a visit here. I’m an uncle, did you say?”

  Hannah’s eyes widened. “You’ve seen father, then? Since you returned from duty?”

  “Oh, aye,” Will replied, offering his arm to Barbara as they turned to climb the slight incline and make their way toward Gisborn Hall, Thunderbolt dutifully following Donald. “I even managed to attend a soirée in London before I headed for Broadwell,” he added, silently cursing himself for not having told Barbara about his one social engagement prior to his heading out to look for her. He couldn’t exactly expect his brother to replace him in all the social activities without first showing him the ropes, however. “Does my nephew have a name?” he asked, his query directed to anyone who might answer him.

  “Randolph, although it wasn’t my first choice for him,” the earl replied with an arched eyebrow. He allowed his wife to drop back so that she could walk alongside Barbara, her arm interlocking with the woman as the young boy moved to join them, his hands clutching the horse’s reins.

  “Did you even recognize anyone at the ball?” Henry asked then, noting how Harold seemed to accept their visitors as if he had known them his entire life.

  “Hardly,” Will acknowledged, wondering at the earl’s comment about his son’s name. There hadn’t been any Randolphs in the Devonville line, but perhaps the Gisborn line was full of them. “My father’s associates, of course. Like Morganfield and Lord Torrington. He’s married to my aunt Adele, which in itself was quite a surprise,” Will added. “But...” He paused, giving the earl a shake of his head. “I was a bit out of my element.”

  Gisborn nodded. “You have your land legs back, though,” he replied, the comment not a question. The lawn beneath them was suddenly a crushed granite path that curved and led to the front door of Gisborn Hall.

  Will allowed a chuckle. “I do. And I can still ride a horse, which I did not realize how much I missed doing until I was on my way to Broadwell.” At Gisborn’s sudden frown, Will dared a glance at Barbara, whose attention was on Hannah as his sister happily chatted with her. He supposed in an area this remote, Hannah rarely had callers. The two had just stepped onto the path a few yards ahead of them. Will hoped Barbara’s slippers would hold up long enough to get her to the front door. He was sure her soles were nearly worn through.

  “I wondered when we might meet,” Henry said as he watched his wife and Barbara walk toward the house, Donald following along with the horse and Harold at his side. Henry allowed them to get a bit ahead of him and Will so they couldn’t overhear their conversation.

  Will nodded. “As did I. I admit, I was a bit concerned when I heard my little sister was married to the Earl of Gisborn—”

  “Because you were afraid she had married my uncle, no doubt,” Henry interrupted, a wry smile crossing his face.

  “Only for a moment,” Will agreed, his own face splitting into a grin. “I never thought she would have to leave London, though,” he added, sobering a bit.

  Henry gave a shrug. “She has been a godsend for this place,” he said as he waved a hand toward Gisborn Hall. “For me.” After a pause, he added, “She has never complained about how far we are from London, I think because her friends are all married and busy with families of their own.”

  Will angled his head, realizing Hannah had already been away from London for two years. This was her home now. “And you? Have you always lived here?”

  “Indeed.” He frowned as he glanced back toward the house. “I was beginning to think I was going to have to admonish my staff,” he said under his breath. “We don’t get many visitors.”

  Will followed his line of sight to find a stableboy running in their direction. Breathless, the young man bowed and took the reins from Donald. “I apologize for the wait, sir,” he said before he hurried off with Thunderbolt, his manner with the Arabian suggesting he had dealt with high-strung horses in the past.

  “Where did you say you walked from?” Henry asked as he nodded back toward the road.

  “Broadwell. About four miles from here, I think.”

  “Why Broadwell?” the other earl wondered, his face screwed up with curiosity.

  Will allowed a grin. “Not a ‘what’ so much as a ‘who’,” he replied with an nod toward his betrothed. At least, he hoped she was still his betrothed. In all that had happened in the last day and a half, he had only proposed the one time, and apparently Barbara hadn’t been awake for it. After her comments about London, he hadn’t again brought up their future as a married couple. “Lady Barbara.”

  Henry frowned. “Were you staying at The Five Bells?” he asked, a look of concern still on his face. “I know of the inn, of course, but I’ve never had reason to patronize the place.”

  Will took a breath and held it a moment. “No, actually. Barbara lives in a poor excuse for a cottage just outside of the village. I arrived the day before yesterday and am left wondering how she’s managed to make a living there for the past seven years. Rotting roof, no servants, no financial support—”

  “Christ,” Henry breathed. “Who is she?” he asked in a low voice, as if he were afraid he might be overheard.

  “Lady Barbara Higgins. Greenley’s daughter,” Will responded when Henry didn’t indicate he recognized the name.

  Henry paused mid-step. “The Earl of Greenley’s daughter?” he repeated, a hint of surprise on his face. He had never heard of a member of the aristocracy having taken up residency in the small village to the west. “Are you sure she wasn’t just... visiting there?” he asked, his brows furrowed. No member of the peerage occupied the village—the land surrounding it was independent of the Crown. Perhaps Barbara was a merely friend of the baron who owned most of the properties in that area and was staying there temporarily.

  Will took a deep breath. “She has lived there for almost the entire time I was away at sea,” he whispered. “If you could call it living. Pray tell, what have you heard about her? I want to know everything. No matter how awful, no matter how scandalous—”

  “There’s not much to tell,” Henry interrupted, realizing the younger earl had imagined something far worse than the reality. “If she is indeed the one I’m thinking she is, I’ve only ever heard of a widow living with her young son in a run-down cottage. Won’t entertain callers—men or women—nor accept help from Miss Susan, the woman who runs The Five Bells,” he explained, one eyebrow arching up. “Truth be told, I intended to pay a call in the next month or so, once the seeding was done,” he said. At Will’s sudden glance, he added, “Broadwell isn’t exactly part of my earldom, but it isn’t under the baron’s realm either, and the Crown hasn’t exactly paid it any mind. Last I spoke with Miss Susan, she was of the opinion the two would starve to death if I didn’t do something. I was thinking if the situation was as dire as Miss Susan described, I would simply move them to the dowager cottage over there,” he said as he nodded toward a neat stone cottage just outside the front drive to Gisborn Hall. “There’s a good garden and an opportunity to earn a living as a seamstress or laundress.”

  Will glanced back toward the cottage, impressed at how well kept it looked. “Did you know she’s an earl’s daughter?” he asked then, suspicious as to the earl’s motives.

  Henry shook his head. “I did not,” he replied. “Which means Miss Susan doesn’t know she is, either,” he added with an arched eyeb
row. “No one has said anything to that effect. I just thought if she were willing to move, it would be good to have another woman in the area. I think it’s hard for Hannah not to have friends close by. Ever since Nathan’s mother married and moved to the far side of Bampton, Hannah’s been a bit... lonely.”

  Will relaxed a bit, heartened to know his brother-in-law didn’t have plans for the woman Will intended to make his wife. But word that his sister didn’t have other young matrons with whom to take tea and go shopping had him frowning. “Do you suppose you will ever move to London?” he asked finally.

  Henry shook his head. “If we ever go to London, it will only be so I can attend sessions of Parliament, and so we can participate in the Season’s entertainments. I don’t think we’ll ever live there year-round.”

  Relieved to hear that Henry was at least planning to take Hannah back to London for a visit, Will nodded. “Are you afraid she won’t want to come back here?” Will wondered slowing his approach so they wouldn’t get too close to the women who still walked ahead of them.

  Henry paused and shook his head. “I hadn’t given it any thought. Perhaps you’ll have to ask her,” he said with a hint of reluctance. The last thing he wanted was for his wife to want to live in London year-round. “What of your Lady Barbara? Does she wish to go back?”

  Will shook his head. “She said she will never go back there.” At Henry’s look of confusion, he added, “I believe she is of the opinion that everyone in London knows something that would preclude her from ever being able to show her face there again,” he explained with an arched eyebrow, his manner indicating he couldn’t guess what offense might warrant such a thought. “I’ve spoken with the butler of Pendleton House, and he didn’t mention any scandal surrounding her. Just said she left the household. Figured she had gone to live in the country for a time.”

  At Henry’s frown, Will shook his head. “Later,” he whispered, glad Hannah was doing such a good job of keeping Barbara’s attention on her with her gentle queries.