His Unexpected Heiress (Entangled Inheritance Book 2)

by Sally Britton

  Graham and Mrs. Mayworth patiently returned to their positions, but Mr. Carrow remained in Adam’s place. He called out each move they performed, walking between each other, changing places from top to bottom of the room, not stopping even when Elaine missed a step. Not until they had repeated one of the simpler patterns three times.

  “Good, good. There is improvement. Miss Chapple, I charge you to practice on your own. I will return next week to view your progress.” He bowed and went to his niece, assisting her in collecting her music.

  Elaine put her hand to her forehead, pushing back a long lock of hair that had escaped its proper twist at some point that morning. Adam stood with his arms folded, staring at her.

  Miss Mallet, who had been quietly knitting in the corner while the children practiced, came forward to collect them. “Miss Chapple,” she said, her low voice soothing and tone most polite. “If you wish, I would be happy to play for you when you practice.”

  “Oh, yes. Thank you, that would be most helpful.” Elaine ruffled William’s hair and put her arm around Nancy’s shoulder. “You both did marvelously. I hope I can depend upon your help as well.”

  “It isn’t too hard, Elaine.” Nancy wrapped her arm around Elaine’s waist and hugged her in a fierce manner. “And you will have lots and lots of time to practice for your ball.”

  “Or you can pretend you are ill and stay at home,” William added, a grin stretching across his face.

  “I hope it will not come to telling falsehoods.” Elaine gave him a narrow-eyed glare. “Though I might send you in my place, as you are such an expert in dance already.”

  William ducked his head to hide his grimace. “Dancing is such a waste of time. I would much rather go riding or play cricket.”

  His governess chuckled. “Yet neither of those things are on our schedule just yet. Come, we have lessons to attend to.” Miss Mallet curtsied, encouraging the children to take their leave properly, then she led them from the room.

  Mr. Carrow approached again, his niece on his arm. “Practice, Miss Chapple. It is the only way to be proficient.” He bowed and took his leave.

  With a deep sigh, Elaine turned and walked to the windows. Perhaps a few moments of the warm sunlight upon her face would be enough to restore her good spirits. Why she had turned into a bumbling creature when she needed grace and dignity, she could not explain.

  Adam’s deep voice carried through the room. “Thank you, Graham. Mrs. Mayworth. You may return to your duties.” The clicks of the servants’ shoes as they withdrew from the room echoed in time to Elaine’s rapidly beating heart.

  Everyone who saw her attempt to dance at the ball would think her a simpleton. If she modestly declined to dance, perhaps claiming she did not enjoy it, they would guess her to be uneducated. Though she admitted the truth of her background without shame, failing to perform in front of a room of people made her nearly dizzy with worry. The ball mattered.

  “You have time.” Adam approached, but she did not turn around. Her eyes had begun to water, her unfocused vision growing blurry. “And we all wish to help.”

  She took in a shuddering breath, willing the tears to recede. “I used to be good at dancing.” Elaine wrapped her arms around herself, holding the escaping emotions in as much as possible. “Mrs. Harper’s dance instructor always said so. I did well in French, I could sew better than the instructor brought in for the embroidery lessons, I struggled with German and some of the poetry studies, but I really could dance.” She lowered her head and closed her eyes, willing the tears to disappear.

  Warmth from behind, and a sudden awareness, told her Adam stood quite close. Close enough that if she leaned back, she might put her head upon his shoulder. Heat grew in her stomach at the thought of allowing him to support her, if only for a moment. It had been so long since anyone had shielded her from the world, from her own faults. An eternity, it seemed, since she had been embraced by anyone with the ability to offer comfort. Would he hold her if she stepped back?

  “Why did you never dance after school?” he asked so quietly she nearly did not hear him over her troublesome thoughts. “Even a seamstress would have been invited to an assembly for tradesmen and their families. There were fair days and festivals. You must have had opportunity before now.”

  Elaine wanted to turn, to look him in the eye and tell him everything that had held her back. So much of it was foolish. But she kept her back to him, knowing if she looked at him she would act on her inappropriate wishes. Instead, she tried to explain.

  “Father did not encourage me to attend such things,” she said softly. “He needed my help, and we were often busy. People are forever buying clothes in London. He did not always trust that the tradesmen would conduct themselves properly, either. Then he died and I went into mourning.” She shook her head. “I had to leave London for Ipswich, I had a young boy to look after. Balls were out of the question. Then Nancy came into my life and I had even less reason to spend my time frivolously. Two children depended upon me.”

  Had he moved closer? When she drew in a breath, his sage-and-cedar-wood scent surrounded her. His next words were a low murmur, nearly in her ear. “William was your father’s apprentice. What of Nancy? How did she come to be in your care?”

  The day Elaine found Nancy sprang into her mind, though the circumstances were far different from the time in which she presently stood. That month, so long ago, the skies had rained, and rained, and rained. Ipswich streets had washed almost clean, only to then flood with filth when the water stopped finding places to go. Without the sun, Ipswich grew cold, and William fell ill.

  “William was seven,” Elaine said quietly. “In November, four years ago. I left him at home and closed my shop. No one was coming in anyway, because of the rain and mud. I went to the apothecary to purchase herbs. William had a cough that would not go away.” She shuddered; the memory of the freezing dampness made bumps stand out along her arms. “I walked by an alley, as much in a hurry to be out of the rain as everyone around me. I heard someone crying. I nearly went on. A sick child at home and the skies falling, I could have easily ignored the sound.”

  “But you did not,” Adam guessed. His fingertips brushed her right arm, just above the long glove she wore for dancing practice. Then his hand closed gently around her elbow. “What did you find?”

  “The most beautiful little girl,” Elaine answered, the tears returning to her eyes for an entirely different reason. “She was so small, Adam. Hungry, dirty, and sad. I found her curled up under a pile of old crates, wearing practically nothing. But when she looked up at me, so hopeful and lost, she asked for her mama.” Elaine leaned into his touch on her arm as she remembered the horror and the ache in her chest.

  “I gathered her up in my coat.” It had been a large, woolen overcoat more suited to a man than a woman, and certainly more substantial than the spencers ladies of the higher classes wore. “We went looking for her mother. Nancy wasn’t old enough to help, but I asked everyone all along that street for help. At every shop. No one knew her. I took her back to the apothecary to be looked over. Apart from her obvious hunger, there was nothing wrong with her.”

  “Who would just leave a child out in the cold?” Adam asked, his voice low and heavy with emotion. “What justification could there be for such heartlessness?”

  Elaine stepped away from him and turned around, meeting his eyes to see anger simmering deep inside. “It happens more often than you know,” she told him. “Families cannot feed all the children, so one is given away, or turned out to fend for themselves. Or a poor mother cannot stand the sight of a starving child, so she leaves the child in hopes someone else can care for them. Perhaps that was the case for Nancy. I will never know.”

  His expression gentled, and Adam reached up to touch her cheek as he had the evening before. Thank goodness he wore gloves, too. “You claimed her as your own.”

  “Not—not as though she was a puppy or a lost umbrella.” His touch made it difficult for her
to speak, but he had to understand. “And not because I am a saint. I nearly walked by without stopping, like everyone else.”

  “Then why keep her?” His gaze penetrated her, searched her very soul. What did he see? “Why not turn her over to a church or charity?”

  The truth made no sense, and no one had ever asked her about her decision before. Yet Elaine’s answer had always been there, in her heart. “Because she had already been through enough, and I knew I could give her more than food and a roof over her head. I knew I could love her. I knew it the moment I looked into her eyes.”

  Adam regarded her intensely, a look of wonder in his eyes that nearly undid her defenses. He was handsome, and gentle, and kind, and absolutely everything she had dreamed of in a man before she accepted she could never marry and care for the children, too.

  When he spoke, she forced herself to listen, forced away her impossible emotions.

  “You are the most selfless woman I have ever met.” It was a statement, firm and certain enough she knew he would not permit her denial. “You are not a saint, Elaine Chapple. But I think you might be an angel. You will do anything for those children.”

  Adam’s thumb brushed across her jaw, then he removed his hand and stepped back. His moving away pulled at her heart as though he had a string tied to it grasped in his hand. She took in a shaky breath, missing his nearness in a way that ought to have shamed her.

  “Including,” Adam continued, “dancing at a ball.”

  A protest rose to her lips but died swiftly. Adam was right. She had to stop thinking of Adam in such a useless, hopeless way. The children’s future happiness, their chances at a better life than any of them had known, rested upon her shoulders.

  “Will you show me the steps again?”

  Adam held his hand out to her, an invitation she accepted at once. His hand was warm and strong. He led her back to the center of the music room and released her, moving to stand before her. “We have no music.” It sounded like a caution.

  “We will do our best.” Elaine curtsied, he bowed, and they began the steps Mr. Carrow had taught them.

  This time, Elaine did not falter. Putting aside her fears, as well as her dreams, for the sake of the children kept her steady and made her unbreakable.

  Chapter 14

  At the end of another day at Tertium Park, Adam left the estate with deep satisfaction. Since his rather emotional conversation with Elaine five days past, he had escorted her to church and seen her through two more dancing lessons with Mr. Carrow. Her improvement had been met with praise from the instructor, and an issued challenge to learn four dances before he came again.

  As long as Elaine continued to think of the children, as Adam knew she would, her success at the ball was assured.

  He had half a mind to ask her for a set that evening, or perhaps two. Yet concern for her reputation kept him back. If he were honest with himself, fear that she might reject him kept him from extending the invitation. Though they had seen more of each other of late, and she thanked him for each effort he made on her behalf, Elaine still held herself back. Hesitation in her eyes and the tight rein she kept upon her words in his presence were evidence enough of that.

  Had she sensed there might be reason to distrust him?

  All the way to the earl’s house, Adam kept his mind working upon the issue. The opportunity to tell her the truth never seemed to come. They were never alone, not since she told him of Nancy’s origins.

  He started to wonder if there was a better way to approach the issue. What if he proved himself first, showing his true intentions toward her? He needed her to recognize his only desire was her safety and success. He missed her easy laugh from the day they toured the castle grounds. The children had been happy, and Elaine had taken in their joy enough to influence her own, despite her worries at the time.

  If only Adam could recreate that day. Something about it had been magical, and he knew walking around that castle with her had given him an insight and appreciation for her character.

  Adam had nearly arrived at the Montecliff estate door when the idea struck him. A perfectly wonderful idea. The Orford Ness lighthouses. The high lighthouse might be especially interesting, and exciting, for the children. Lord Baybrooke owned the land and oversaw its upkeep. If Adam dashed a note off to the baron that evening, he might secure permission to enter the building by the next afternoon.

  A day near the sea might prove the perfect time to tell Elaine everything.

  After leaving his horse with a groom, Adam did not waste time entering the house. He pulled off his hat and gloves, barely looking at the butler as he strode toward the stairs.

  “Mr. Gillensford,” the servant called, his voice more hiss than whisper.

  Already three steps above the ground floor, Adam paused and looked over his shoulder. “Yes, Rigby?” It was then he noticed the butler’s somewhat harried expression.

  “Your lady mother is at home.”

  Had the butler lobbed a curse at his head, Adam could not have been more horrified by the man’s pronouncement. He glanced up the staircase, falling back a step. Being told a live bear had been loosed in the house could not have made him more cautious.

  “Where is she?” Adam asked, voice lowered.

  “In her upstairs sitting room, sir.” Rigby’s forehead had twice the normal amount of creases present. “She asked that I direct you to her as soon as you returned.”

  There would be no delaying the disaster, then. “How long has she been here? Does she know where I have been all day?”

  “Her ladyship arrived three hours ago, sir.” The butler shifted, clasping Adam’s hat to himself most awkwardly. “I could not lie to her, sir. I told her you were at Tertium Park.”

  Blast servant loyalty. At least Adam had some warning to prepare for a confrontation. “Thank you, Rigby. I will see her at once.”

  “Very good, Mr. Gillensford.” Rigby bowed and withdrew, leaving Adam to make the dreaded climb up the steps alone. He held the rail tight, with each step composing his first words to her. Mother would have questions, demands, and opinions about everything. The surest way to keep her at bay, to give her nothing upon which to build her own plans, would be to answer her in as unconcerned a manner as possible.

  He took a deep breath outside the door, readying himself to do battle. Did everyone face parents with a longing for chain mail and a helmet to protect them? Likely not.

  Had his mother rushed home after receiving Georgiana’s letter? How much did she know of the situation at the estate?

  As he stepped inside, he slipped on his only protection: a mask of indifference. “Mother, welcome home.” Adam crossed the room to his mother’s favorite couch, upon which she reclined at her ease. He bowed, then bent and kissed her upon the cheek as expected.

  “Adam.” She did not raise her head from the cushions upon which it was propped. “It is nearly time to dress for dinner. What have you been about all day? Surely the little seamstress could not require the whole of your time.”

  “Even if she did, do you think I would allow such liberties?” Adam asked, taking up a chair near her. “I barely glimpsed the woman today. I spent most of my time with the old steward, sorting through my late uncle’s investments.” That was nearly the truth. He dared reveal nothing until his mother showed her hand.

  Fredericka, Dowager Countess of Montecliff, raised up slightly in interest. “Your inheritance for assisting that upstart? Is it good news, Adam?” Of course she would start salivating over the idea of more money coming into the family.

  “The best of news, madam.” He smirked and steepled his fingers together before him. “I rather hope Richard is not successful in over-turning the will, as it might throw into question exactly how much of the income would fall to me.”

  “Ah, the courts, yes.” She flicked her wrist to dismiss that idea. “Richard has spoken to several prominent men and it seems your great uncle well calculated who to use as witnesses. No one wishes to upset the
Duke of Kent.”

  Adam’s composure nearly fell at that, but as the idea settled, he did not bother hiding a smile. “Uncle Gillensford was quite a cunning old gentleman. He must have done something to earn His Grace’s approval.”

  “I have no wish to know what sort of unsavory actions your great-uncle performed to garner such favor.” She sniffed. “It cannot have been decent.”

  Most likely, his great-uncle had only done something kind. Much like Elaine had done in order to inherit an entire fortune. The royal family did not often show favor to younger sons, no matter their age, but Peter Gillensford had never been an ordinary man. Wise in business, and kind of heart, he won many people’s good opinion through the years.

  Much as Elaine had won the loyalty of the staff, the friendship of her neighbors, and Adam’s own admiration. Uncle Peter had chosen as his heir a woman with precisely his same spirit of gentle strength and genuine compassion. How had the old gentleman recognized a kindred soul in a woman he spoke to for less than an hour’s time?

  “That is a bleak look upon your face.” His mother had narrowed her eyes at him, and Adam hastily composed himself.

  Adam forgot where he stood and who watched him, lost as he was in memories of Peter Gillensford’s warm smiles and encouragement for Adam to be a better man. “I beg your pardon, Mother. I was thinking on my brother’s disappointments.”

  Mother tossed her head carelessly. “Richard will fare well enough. He is an earl and hardly in need of your pity. What we need worry about now is your next move, Adam.”

  “My next move?” What could she want from him now?

  “Yes. To secure your uncle’s leavings from that seamstress.” His mother chuckled. “The old woman can hardly have need of everything under her possession. Might she be persuaded to give over more of it to you?”

  “I cannot think such would be easily done,” he answered, attempting to sound unconcerned.