BaronAndEnchantress_PGolden-eBooks

by Golden, Paullett

  “And now?” he queried, his fingers curling around the parchment.

  “I’ve learned a thing or two about belonging. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. But I’ve realized instead of waiting for other people to give me a sense of belonging, I must create it for myself. Only I can determine where I belong. I belong with you and Lizbeth. I belong here at Roddam Hall. I’ll belong at Noach Cottage. If I have the courage to see it through, I’ll belong in Society. I just might belong with Walter, if he’ll forgive me for hurting him.”

  “Brava.” Sebastian applauded, his eyes bright with admiration and approval.

  As silly as it seemed to want his approval, she did. She wanted him to be proud of her.

  Rustling the paper, Sebastian held it up to his face. “Not that you need this, then, but I’ll read it to you all the same.” With a wink, he read, “‘Lilith Lancaster, daughter of Tobias Lancaster and Jane Lancaster, September, 3, 1760—”

  “What is that?” Lilith interrupted him, snatching the parchment out of his hands.

  She stared at the paper, confused.

  “It’s your baptismal record.”

  “Did you forge this?” She pressed the paper to her chest. What, oh, what had her brother done?

  Sebastian gave a single ha. “That comes from the vicar. It took him far longer than I had hoped to dig through the recordings of the previous vicar. At last, he found both our records. We were christened together. You would have been, what, two? I was not quite one. I’ve searched with the help of my man of business for birth records, orphanage records, any records at all to tie you to Lily Chambers or Jane Lancaster. This is all we could find. According to this, and as far as the bishop would ever be concerned, you are the legitimate daughter of Jane Lancaster.”

  Lilith studied the paper, wordless.

  “Honor Jane by being her daughter, Lilith. Our mother loved you as though you were her own. We are your family. We are the ones who love you. That’s what makes someone family, not blood. You’ve said so yourself. I came here ready for battle. I intended to fight you with my definition of family and how little blood matters, regardless of what law or people believe. I had a pretty speech prepared. It seems I needn’t proselytize after all.” He paused before adding, “Or do I?”

  The paper blurred out of focus. A quick wipe of her hands over her eyes cleared her vision to see her brother smiling warmly at her.

  Looking back to the paper, she said, “And I suppose this one document magically solves all our problems?”

  “Not all, but it will staunch anyone who sniffs into your past or spreads rumors. I believe my word will be enough. The word of our cousin will seal your entry into Society.”

  And so, this was it, she thought. Her ticket to another world. Until recently, it was not a world in which she wanted entrance. Now she had a cause worth fighting for.

  Chapter 29

  Sebastian’s London townhome could hardly be called a London townhome when it was located considerably west of the more popular residencies. It backed up to the Thames with a spacious terrace overlooking the river and was more an estate than a moderate townhome. The house stretched across a sizable park, iron gates and a gatehouse barring entrance to all those uninvited.

  The difference between his London residence and that of the Duke of Annick or even Lord Collingwood was considerable. Although Lilith had not seen Walter’s townhome from the inside, Sebastian had pointed it out none too discreetly on a drive through Mayfair and Hyde Park. She had been to her cousin Annick’s townhome several times since arriving in London. It was gauche but fashionable. Its proximity to Mayfair made it much smaller in size than Sebastian’s, but no less grand. At both Walter’s and her cousin’s townhome, there was a noticeable lack of an iron gate. Guests were welcome, invited or uninvited.

  Lilith knew her brother preferred a private and reclusive life. Would she? His home seemed so remote.

  She had yet to see Walter. She had, however, seen Hazel. There was no mention of Walter during their reunion. A small seed of hope had lain dormant, waiting for Hazel to say something about Walter, some indication if he were available and interested in seeing her again. It was not to be had. Hazel praised Lilith’s bravery to be introduced, invited her for more than one afternoon of calls, and focused her remaining attention on Lizbeth who would give birth during the Season.

  Being in London was empowering.

  She preferred the country. But there was something exhilarating about the energy of London, the hustle and bustle, the fast pace. Meeting new people was even exciting. Lizbeth’s sister Charlotte, the Duchess of Annick, took Lilith under her wing and introduced her to key figures within her inner circle, all in preparation for the much more formal introduction to come. Lilith did not find the conversations tedious. Everything was new and fun.

  While she dared not discuss her plan for the women’s home, at least not until she had been more widely accepted and had sorted out who would be the philanthropic sort, she did have one patron. The patron in question was not only willing to back the plan with funds, but with resources, ranging from helping re-home destitute women to offering character references for employment. The patron was the most unlikely of people.

  Aunt Catherine.

  Catherine Mowbrah, the Dowager Duchess of Annick, was a formidable force. Or so Lilith had anticipated. The woman had never spoken of Lilith to Sebastian, although she knew Lilith to be alive and living in Allshire when Sebastian and the rest of the world had believed her dead. The woman had refused to acknowledge Lilith or see Freya since a bastard was staying at the castle.

  And yet, she was willing to accept Lilith in exchange for being a silent partner to Noach Cottage. Though she would not openly acknowledge Lilith, she agreed not to deny her as her niece. It was as good as, if not better, than Lilith had hoped.

  During her visit to Lyonn Manor, Aunt Catherine declined all invitations to dine with them and insisted Lizbeth bring Freya to the dower house, all to avoid Lilith. The time of reckoning arrived the day before they left for London. Procrastination may not have been the best approach, but it took courage to face one’s nemesis. Well, Aunt Catherine was not exactly a nemesis, but she certainly held the power to staunch Lilith’s hopes and dreams.

  Looking her best, thanks to Hannah, Lilith marched to the dower house. It was farther than she anticipated, two miles west from the main house. Had she known, she would have taken Jasper with her for the walk. As it was, Jasper had been left at the main house with Sebastian to distract him from the absence of his mistress. He did not like to be without her for long.

  Her knock was greeted by a dour butler who creaked when he moved. She did not have a card to give him, as he seemed to expect with his outstretched, gloved hand.

  “Will you please inform my aunt that her niece Lilith requests an audience?”

  She gave him her haughtiest look. She had been practicing. So had he, it would seem, for he was unperturbed.

  “I’ll ascertain if Her Grace is at home,” he said with a firm click of the door in Lilith’s face.

  As if he did not know his mistress’ whereabouts, she thought with a scoff.

  The wait was long enough to be insulting. At least the roses were in bloom. Lilith admired the rose hedges to either side of the portico. They looked newish, as though planted within the last year, but they were thriving admirably. Mr. Turnbow would be awed and have invited the head gardener to tea.

  Straightening her dress and running her hands along her torso for the fifteenth time, she waited.

  At last, the door opened. The butler peeked out through a thin slat of space.

  “Her Grace is from home.”

  Of all the, well, harrumph! Not that Lilith expected a different reaction, but it was no less irritating.

  The butler made to close the door, but Lilith stuck her foot in the doorway, a firm hand pushing open the door
, her strength surpassing the aged butler.

  “This will not do, miss,” said the man, huffing and puffing and reaching out to grab her and escort her off the premises.

  Undaunted, Lilith dodged and darted past him into the foyer. There was a long gallery stretching from one side to the other. Should she go left, or right? From the sounds of the butler’s footsteps, she did not have time to second-guess a choice. Turning on her heel, she headed left, opening the first door to an empty room.

  “You cannot be here!” shouted the butler, scuttling in her wake.

  A quick glance over her shoulder revealed a few footmen had joined the chase. They would be far faster and handier than the butler. As quickly as she could, knowing this may be a futile effort if the woman were upstairs, she flung open door after door, peering in only for a second each.

  Blast! All empty.

  She took the bend in the hall to the west wing.

  First room, empty. Second room, empty. Third room….

  Lilith jerked to a stop, her hand on the door handle, her eyes riveted on an austere woman rising from a throne-like chair.

  In the mere seconds she had to study the woman, she was struck by their resemblance. Aside from the scornful expression, age lines, and silver streaks at the temples, Lilith might have very well been looking in the mirror. The experience was shocking.

  And then hands were around her arms as the footmen took hold to remove her. The butler stepped in to close the door.

  With a bow, he said, “My apologies, Your Grace.”

  “Leave us,” said the woman, pointing an accusing gold-handled cane at the butler.

  The footmen and butler hesitated.

  She arched a single brow.

  In renewed haste, the footmen unhanded Lilith. The butler bowed and stepped backwards out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

  Her shoulders back and her heart in her throat, Lilith took three steps towards her father’s sister.

  Catherine looked Lilith up and down, assessing. “Well?”

  Lilith stared, dumbstruck.

  Thumping her cane against the rug, Catherine said, “You barged in here, so what do you want?”

  “I am the daughter of Jane and Tobias Lancaster. I intend to live the life my mother wanted for me, the life of Lady Lilith. I expect you to acknowledge me as your niece.” Lilith reminded herself to breathe.

  “You are the daughter of a servant, nothing more. The only reason you were not tossed out on your ear was my father had taken to his sickbed when you arrived on my brother’s doorstep. My brother was right to send you to an orphanage.”

  It was not lost on Lilith that she had not been invited to sit. Clasping her hands before her, she fixed her aunt’s glare, refusing to be cowed.

  “He was. Perhaps not in the way he did, but he was right to send me. Had I stayed, I would have undoubtedly been treated to similar abuse as my brother. As it happened, I was spared. You know what Sebastian suffered. It was not unlike what your brother suffered at the hand of your father after you left him to marry the duke. You can atone for leaving your brother behind by accepting his daughter, the daughter he took in though he knew me to be illegitimate. He raised me as legitimate. How can you deny his wishes after leaving him behind?”

  Catherine’s eyes narrowed. “You presume to know a great deal about me.”

  Lilith did not answer right away. She held her aunt’s gaze, willing her words to hit the mark. It had been Lizbeth who told her what little she knew of Catherine, for at one time, the woman had confided in Lizbeth.

  When Lilith remained silent, Catherine said, “I suppose you want to masquerade as an earl’s daughter so you can secure a good match and live in the lap of luxury, as useless as most wives of the peerage. You’re just like your peasant mother, setting her eyes on a prize above her station.”

  “You’re wrong,” Lilith said, unflinching. “This has naught to do with me. As Lady Lilith, I can gain the connections needed to open a home that will help displaced and destitute women. Such a home will help those who have no recourse against abusive husbands, no family to turn to should they find themselves ravished and left with child, no means to secure employment without references. Imagine a frightened girl of little more than sixteen, beaten so brutally by her father she would rather die than return home. I can help her.”

  Catherine’s eyes widened. Barely above a whisper, she asked, “How did you know?”

  Lilith did not understand the question, but she realized her words affected her aunt. She continued, not wanting to lose momentum.

  “They will be safe and trained for a new future. With the connections I make as Lady Lilith, I can find them employment, arrange for new lives, teach them skills to enter the workforce or survive on their own. As the daughter of a servant, I have no influence. As Lady Lilith, I can see this through to fruition.”

  Her aunt broke eye contact midway through Lilith’s speech. Though she returned to her seat, she did not invite Lilith to join her.

  Gaze trained to the floor, Catherine asked more to herself than to Lilith, “Why should I help you?”

  Boldly, Lilith took a step towards her aunt. “I will do this with or without your consent. I mean no disrespect, but my plan is more important than your opinion. I do ask for your consent. I do not wish to embarrass you, nor do I want you to undermine my efforts by denouncing me. If we work together, imagine what we could accomplish.”

  A long stare followed. Lilith had the distinct impression her thoughts were being read and her words judged. In the distance, she could hear a clock chime and a bird sing.

  “Know this,” Catherine said. “I only consent to help you because you have backbone. You are strong willed enough to see this through. Your blood may be dirty, but you’ve proven yourself a Lancaster. My consent is not without conditions. Sit. I’ll ring for tea.”

  And with those words, Lilith’s future was secured.

  She could hardly contain her excitement during her walk back to the estate. Her aunt was to patron Noach Cottage and provide aid to the refugee women. These seemed unusual conditions to Lilith since they worked in her favor. What was her aunt’s motivation?

  Regardless, Lilith no longer feared the beau monde. In her heart, she was not a bastard. No longer would she hide herself. No longer would she be forced into the mud.

  “What do you mean the land has been purchased?” Walter demanded.

  His secretary, a squat man with thatched brows and a thinning hairline, mopped his forehead.

  “As I said, I offered a fair price, but the solicitor informed me it had already been sold.”

  “Double it. Double the offer. I’ll sort out the expense later. I need that property for the extension, Bromley.” Under his breath, Walter muttered, “Who would want uncultivated land with a dilapidated estate in the middle of nowhere?”

  “M’lord, I cannot double the offer. Construction has begun on the property.”

  “Construction? It only just sold! What do you mean there’s construction? Approach the daft bull and offer to buy it from him!”

  Walter was beyond enraged. This would foil his plans for the women’s home. He had it all planned. In one section of the property, there would be the orphanage and foundling hospital. In the other section, there would be a women’s home for those needing shelter until they sorted out employment. His vision was still fuzzy on how it would work, but he could sort that out later. For now, he needed the property. Had he known some imbecile would purchase it out from under his nose to build a country home, he would have purchased both lots together. At the time, it had been outrageously priced, and he had not seen the need to spend money for another section when one would do well enough.

  Cradling his head in his hands, he stared at the top of his desk.

  “I’m sorry, m’lord, but the deal is done. I’ve begun searching
for comparable land and have compiled a list for you to consider.” Mr. Bromley moved a piece of parchment into Walter’s peripheral.

  “I don’t want comparable land. I want that land. How am I supposed to ask the women to help out at the orphanage and hospital if they have to walk half across Hampshire from one location to the other?”

  With a light cough, Mr. Bromley offered, “The plots listed are inexpensive enough to allow the purchase of a conveyance for your, er, guests.”

  Walter pushed the list back to his secretary. “This is nonsense. I want that property. I want this to be a community. And lest you forget, I would have to spend my time riding from place to place. It’ll be time consuming enough making trips from Devon to Hampshire, never mind the trips to London.” Shaking his head, he said, “Am I to scrap the women’s home, then? Postpone it for now? That might be best. Let me think on it.”

  “Yes, m’lord.” Mr. Bromley shuffled his papers, waiting to be dismissed.

  Without looking up, Walter waved a hand. He was not normally so ill mannered, but this business with the property was most unsettling.

  To distract himself, he sifted through the stack of invitations. He had arrived early to London to spend time charming employment agencies and meeting with a few peers he thought would be interested enough in his plan to help. The earliness of his arrival had long since passed. The Season was officially underway.

  His friends had paid him a few calls to invite him for breakfast at White’s or a visit to Tattersall’s, but he found his interest had waned and his time monopolized by hiring and meeting the new staff that would ready Colling Orphanage for its grand opening. The foundling hospital was still under construction, but the orphanage would be open for business before the Season ended.