The Convenient Arrangement: A Regency Romance (The Wolfe Family Book 5)

by Jo Ann Ferguson

  “Pretty manners. Not that I would expect less from Francis’s nephew. I must say that I am glad you are finally here to take care of all of us in this house. The house needs its master.” She rested her hand on the back of Valeria’s chair and peered at Valeria who drew back from her. “Your wife?”

  “No.”

  “Your convenient?”

  “No!” gasped Valeria before he could reply.

  He clasped his hands behind his back and smiled coolly at Valeria who had the decency to look embarrassed by her outburst. At least, she shared one opinion with him. The sooner their lives separated again, the better it would be for all concerned.

  The old woman chuckled, the sound oddly lyrical when it came out of that ruined face. “Be careful how you speak, young lady. Such fervor often reveals more than one would hope.”

  “This is Lady Fanning,” Lorenzo said quietly. “She and I have just met. She is a guest at this hour at Moorsea Manor.” He glanced away from the sudden consternation on Valeria’s face as she glanced up at him. One problem at a time, and right now this old woman seemed to be the more pressing one. “And you are?”

  “Nina Urquhart.” She gave him a wicked grin and poked him in the belly with the cane. “I see your curiosity, my boy, so I will tell you that the late lord was my dear, dear friend.”

  Valeria pressed her lips together to keep from smiling as Lorenzo stared in dismay at the old woman. Lorenzo looked like a country parson confronting the devil, shocked, horrified, and yet somehow fascinated by the whole. If David were not missing and if the circumstances had not been so intolerable, she doubted if she could have kept from laughing right out loud.

  She was impressed when Lorenzo bowed his head again and said evenly, “Forgive me, madam, for being unfamiliar with you and the rest of this household. My uncle and I were not well acquainted.”

  “You mean,” corrected Miss Urquhart, “that you never saw the man.” She shook her head as she eyed him up and down. “Too bad. I think you would have enjoyed each other’s company far more than you can guess. I suspect you would have found you are two of a kind. I was watching you from the doorway. You seemed delighted with this library. He was, too. We spent many exciting, exhilarating hours here among these bookshelves.”

  Valeria could not silence her gasp. When the old woman looked down at her, she tried to regain her composure. Lorenzo was wearing that disconcerted expression again, and Miss Urquhart was grinning. Caught between the two of them, she thought it best to be silent.

  Miss Urquhart patted her shoulder companionably. “Do not let your mind take you where you should not go, my lady. Saw you give Lord Moorsea here a facer when you thought he had enticed you here for a tryst, but that bed is not here for the reasons you both clearly think. Francis had that bed brought down here when his old legs could no longer manage the stairs. He could not bear to be far from his beloved books.”

  “That I can understand,” Lorenzo replied.

  “I thought you might when I saw those heavy boxes on the back of your carriage.” Her dark eyes twinkled beneath her gray hair as she poked the bag by his chair.

  He shoved it back out of her reach with his foot, but she would not be denied. Bending, she snatched it with surprising speed. She snapped it open and pawed within it.

  Lorenzo plucked it from her hands. “The items within are private, Miss Urquhart.”

  Valeria’s curiosity was aroused. She heard the crackle of paper, but could not see within the bag. What might Lorenzo have brought with him? A copy of the will to prove his claim? Absurd. No one would deny him this house when it was rightfully his.

  “More books?” the old woman asked. “I saw the like of your book boxes on the back of Francis’s carriage any time he left the manor to …”

  Valeria pulled back again as the old woman suddenly bent and put her face right in hers. “Is something wrong?” she asked, wondering if Miss Urquhart had an empty garret.

  “You are Valeria!” gasped the old woman.

  “Yes.”

  “I thought I recognized you from the miniature that Francis used to carry about. It is long past time that you came to call here at Moorsea Manor.” She straightened and stared at Lorenzo again. “Odd that you should choose this time to pay us a call here, child.” Not giving anyone a chance to reply, she continued to mumble to herself as she went toward the door, “Odd. Most odd.”

  Valeria had no chance to compose her thoughts before Lorenzo asked, “How does she know you? Have you met her before?”

  “No, this is the first I have ever seen her.”

  He took the chair facing hers and let his hands hang between his knees as he leaned toward her. Bafflement ruffled his brow, tossing his hair aside as if upon a wild sea. “Yet she knows you.”

  Glancing toward the door, she said, “My lord—”

  “Lorenzo.”

  “Lorenzo, I am very worried about David. He knows nothing about this house, and—”

  “That is something else that puzzles me. Miss Urquhart knows you well, but you do not seem to know her or this house. How is that?”

  “Lorenzo, I should go and see if David—”

  His hand clamped over hers on the worn arm of the chair and kept her from rising. “We need to get some of this muddle sorted out.”

  “You need to stop interrupting me.” She drew her fingers out from beneath his which were warm. Deliciously warm. She shook that thought from her head. She must be fatigued if she let such fanciful thoughts form in her mind, especially about this impossible man.

  “My apologies.”

  She blinked, startled. Albert had been a dear husband, but he never once had apologized to her for anything. Not that he had often had cause. Her brother Paul had suggested more than once that a woman should not expect such words from a man, who must always maintain his pride. Had she been misled, or was Lorenzo Wolfe truly the peculiarity among the ton as she had heard in London? Could he be a man who preferred the quiet of country to the pleasures of Town and who had turned over his cousin’s title and its prestige without a quibble? Curiosity once again teased her. What other aspects of the new Lord Moorsea would surprise her?

  Again she silenced the enticing thought. She owed Lord Moorsea the duty of an explanation of her arrival here, although she wondered how he would react when he understood the total of her predicament.

  “I came to Moorsea Manor for the first time,” Valeria said, as her fingers found a loose thread on the chair, “not more than an hour before you, Lorenzo. It was while I was speaking with the household staff that I realized David had vanished. You saw the results.”

  “May I ask the reason for your call?”

  She wished he would not be so polite. He had every reason to be furious with her. The red spot left on his cheek by her hand was fading, but her offensive words suggesting his intentions were scurrilous must have been even more wounding. She wished she could apologize, too, but she feared that would make matters more uncomfortable.

  “The late Lord Moorsea was my guardian until my marriage to my late husband. But surely you must have known that if you are his heir.”

  “I know very little about the previous earl.” He smiled wryly as his gaze went back to the bookshelves and the niche behind them. “And I know even less about this house and estate. I look forward to exploring it, so I understand your nephew’s eagerness that has apparently led him to misadventure.”

  She could not help smiling back, for his expression invited one to put aside all cares and trust him without question. “I have learned in the past three months that David has a gift for making himself scarce at the worst possible moment.”

  “The past three months?”

  “I—”

  “Get your blasted hands off me!” came a shout from somewhere out in the hall.

  Valeria leapt to her feet as David appeared in the door, the collar of his coat firmly in the hand of one of Lorenzo’s men. “David!”

  “Tell this blackguard to
get his blasted hands off me!” he cried.

  She did not scold David for his language as she stared at him. His coat was ingrained with dirt, and she wondered how he could have ripped both knees of his pantaloons in such a short time. His boots were scraped, and she hoped the Jack boots here would be able to get them to shine again. If the manor even had a lad to handle that job …

  The man holding onto David tipped his cap to her. “Told you I would retrieve the boy for you, my lady.”

  “Thank you. Thank you so much …”

  “Kirby, my lady.” He grinned. “I am Lord Moorsea’s valet.”

  She gave Kirby a sympathetic glance. Working for this earl must not be an easy task. Pushing Lorenzo’s idiosyncratic ways from her mind, she put her hands on David’s shoulders. She ignored the dust and dirt as she said, “David, you must tell someone where you intend to go before you run off like that.”

  “How can I tell you where I’m going when I don’t know where I am going myself?” He gave her a ragged-tooth grin as Kirby released him. “I never know where I might be going when I start exploring.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as his eyes glittered with anticipation. “You should see the amazing things in this house.”

  “Later you may tell me all about it. We shall have plenty of time to explore this house together.”

  “How is that?” Lorenzo asked as he came to stand beside her and David. “Are you planning an extended call here at Moorsea Manor?”

  Again she was tempted to laugh, this time at his dismal expression. Again the circumstances were so bleak she could not.

  “No, we are not calling at Moorsea Manor, Lorenzo. We have come here to live. As you are now Lord Moorsea, I fear that you have become responsible for us exactly as you have for Miss Urquhart.”

  Looking from her to the boy who appeared to have gathered every mote of dust in the manor house to Kirby’s wide-eyed amazement, Lorenzo wondered what he had done to deserve this fate. This was supposed to be his quiet home, far from everything and everyone, where he could enjoy working on his poetry. He had not expected to be overseeing the lives of his late uncle’s dotty, old high-flyer and his exward and her wayward nephew. He would find more tranquillity along the docks of the Pool.

  “Thank you, Kirby,” he said quietly as he tried to organize his thoughts. A dozen questions demanded to be asked all at the same time. “While I speak with Lady Fanning, would you and young David go to see if there is any supper ready for us?”

  “Just as far as the kitchen, David,” Valeria added in a strained voice. “You would not want to miss your supper, would you?”

  David scowled at Kirby. “Tell him not to put his hands on me!”

  “He shan’t,” Lorenzo replied, “as long as you give him no reason to put you on a leash.”

  The boy continued to frown as he stamped out of the room with every bit of his youthful dignity. Kirby gave Lorenzo another sympathetic smile and followed.

  Turning back to Valeria, Lorenzo was amazed to see her regarding him with her chin high and her hands clenched at her sides. He resisted the temptation to take her hands and ease the strain from her fingers.

  Before he could speak, she said, “I should have told you as soon as you arrived, but, with David and all, my mind was on other matters.”

  “He is safe now.”

  She sat again in the chair and raised her gaze to meet his. Although he had expected her to wear a pleading expression, pride filled her eyes. “I came here because I had no other place to go.”

  “If Albert Fanning was your husband, you should be well off. He was renowned for his skill in managing his estate.”

  “He was, but my brother Paul was not.”

  “David’s father?”

  She nodded as a smile flitted across her lips. “Yes. My brother was ill-equipped to handle his finances.”

  “A gamester?”

  Valeria nodded once more. “Of the worst sort, for he could not allow a chance to wager to pass him by. His forlorn hope was the bequest my late husband left me.” She lowered her eyes before she could see the pity that had been her constant companion since she had been informed of Paul’s want for sense and how he had signed his three vowels with the understanding that his sister’s estate would pay for his gambling debts once his own money was long lost. “I had no idea until his unexpected death several months ago.”

  “But how could he do that? Your estate should have been protected.”

  “It should have been, but apparently Paul had some friends who knew the law well. They helped him circumvent the provisions of Albert’s will. In a moment, I went from a life of comfort to dependence. I did not wish to burden my friends in London, so I came here to my former guardian’s estate, not knowing he too had died until I arrived upon the doorstep.” She meet his gaze evenly. “Tell me, my lord, what else would you have me do?”

  “There must be—”

  “There is nothing. In addition, David is now my responsibility.” She smiled coldly. “Or more truthfully, we both are your responsibility, my lord.”

  Lorenzo fought back a surge of sympathy when her proud façade shattered into sorrow. Her heart-shaped face seemed too delicate for such pain. He took a step toward her, but she put up her hands.

  “I have no appetite for pity,” she said in the same cool tone. “I wish only to know if you will honor your obligations as your uncle’s heir to my nephew and me.”

  “As you should know, a guardian’s duties come to an end when his ward comes of age.”

  “Does that mean—?” Her eyes filled with luminous tears.

  He sat facing her. Taking her quivering hand in his, he thought she might tug away and storm out of the room. Then he comprehended what she so clearly knew. She had no place else to go. Her pride, which he admired, would not allow her to rely on charity. Nor would she beg him to help her. She hoped to persuade him to assume the duty his uncle had, even though she was an ace of spades with a young nephew to oversee.

  “Valeria,” he said, “I believe there is a way we can work this out to our mutual satisfaction.”

  She looked at him, and his breath caught, smothering his next comment. In her amethyst eyes swirled emotions only a brave man or a widgeon would dare explore. He was not sure which he was as he slanted toward her, drawing her hand to him. When she closed her eyes with a soft sigh, then opened them to divulge a dull acceptance, he pulled back as if she had struck him again. Where the devil! Did she believe he was trying to seduce her and she had no choice but to capitulate if she wished to provide her nephew with shelter and food?

  With a curse, he stood and turned his back on her. He stared at the fire. “I think we both shall find this discussion easier after a good night’s sleep in whatever quarters this house can offer. If possible, I shall endeavor to choose rooms in the wing farthest from yours.”

  “Lorenzo, I am sorry. I did not intend to suggest …”

  He faced her and smiled sadly when she came to her feet. “Nor should I have retorted so with such force. We both have gotten off to an ill start.”

  “You have been the epitome of kindness in the wake of this upheaval.” She moved closer, then halted and held onto the back of the chair. “If I have insulted you, I apologize. It is just that after … I mean …” Color slapped her cheeks before they became icy gray. “I am sorry.”

  “Let us begin this discussion anew on the morrow. I shall have a tray sent to your rooms tonight so that you and the boy might retire early.”

  “Thank you.” Did he see tears glowing in her eyes or simply relief?

  Lorenzo said nothing as Valeria rushed out of the room. Dropping back into the chair, he rested his chin on his fist. Dash it! He would have understood if she had been frightened of being turned out with nothing. Of course, she had no reason to fear that, for she would find shelter among her bosom-bows, because, in spite of her pride, she would not allow the child to starve.

  She treated him with the contempt due a rake. H
e could not perceive why. He had done himself no damage in her eyes, but she acted as if his name were on the despairing lips of every matron in London who feared for a young miss’s reputation. Every motion, every kindness he tried to show her was misinterpreted. Yes, she was a lovely woman, but he had, as he had thought so many times in the past hour, no interest in a flirtation. Did she? Did she hope to secure her home here by marrying the new earl?

  Egad, he hoped not. She was charming and beguiling, but he had no place in his life for a wife now. Later, when he had had a chance to savor this old house and its tranquillity, he would think about getting himself an heir as was now his duty. Egad! He had gotten rid of this onerous mantle of responsibility once. He had not thought he would be smothered by it again. Yet, if her intentions were to become his wife, she should be more eager to please him instead of denouncing him at every turn.

  What was he thinking of? This was all utter nonsense. Guessing why Valeria acted as she did was futile, because he would never learn the truth without asking her.

  At the sound of footfalls, Lorenzo smiled and motioned for his valet to come closer. The sight of Kirby holding a tray with a glass of brandy that glowed in the firelight was the exact one he had imagined while on his way here. It was a shame he could not enjoy it, for Valeria Fanning and her problems plagued him.

  Kirby handed him the brandy. “Your cellars should meet with your approval, my lord.” He grinned. “I found them with the help of the boy, who seems to have explored them extensively already.”

  “It appears he shall have as much time as he wants to become acquainted with this house.” Lorenzo took an appreciative sip. Kirby was right. The brandy was excellent. “Lady Fanning and young David shall be staying here longer than I had planned.”

  When Lorenzo had explained the situation, Kirby’s face grew somber. “What will you do, my lord?”