Lord Freddie's First Love

by Patricia Bray

  Anne began to grow angry. “So you decided to comfort her,” she said venomously.

  Captain Montgomery flushed, but he met her gaze squarely. “It was not like that. We were friends. That is, I daresay she saw me as a friend. I was head over heels in love. I know it is shameful, but I kept thinking that if her husband were killed and she were free…”

  He paused, swallowing hard. “Then one night, a madness came over us. I don’t know how else to explain it. She asked me to escort her home from a party at the Governor’s house. When I did, she invited me in. One thing led to another, and that night she let me make love to her.”

  “I think I have heard quite enough,” Anne said, rising from her chair.

  “Stay,” he barked, in a voice of command. “Please,” he added in a softer tone.

  Anne resumed her seat, curious in spite of herself.

  “It was only the one night,” he said. “We both realized it had been a dreadful mistake. We agreed not to see each other again. I called in some favors and was given orders to rejoin my ship. I never saw her again.”

  “And you expect me to believe this?”

  “As God is my witness, I tell you this is the truth.”

  She looked at him, as if she could read the truth of his words by his face and manner. His story matched what few details Sarah had let slip in her final days. “But why did you not attempt to contact her family before? Where were you when Sarah needed you?”

  “She never sent word, though the navy would have forwarded any message she sent. In time I learned of her death, and though I mourned her, I had put that evening firmly from my mind. For many years I was at sea, returning to England only rarely. And then this spring, by chance, I encountered an acquaintance I had made in Canada. He gave me news that greatly disturbed me. And now I have come to you to see if the rumors are true.” He leaned forward, focusing all his attention on her. “Tell me, Miss Webster. Was there a child?”

  Anne did not know what to say or think. Over the years she had pictured Ian’s father as a heartless rake. She had never expected to be face-to-face with him. Nor had she expected that the villain would come in the guise of an earnest gentleman.

  “Yes. There was a babe,” she said, choosing her words carefully.

  Captain Montgomery sagged back in the chair as if the life had drained out of him. “I did not know,” he said. “Oh, Sarah. Why did you not send for me? If I had only been there…”

  It was clear that he believed the story Sarah’s husband had spread, that her child had died at birth. Anne knew she could tell him to leave and that he would go. A part of her argued that he did not deserve to know more.

  And if he had been the rake she had expected, she would have held her tongue and sent him on his way. But her instincts told her Captain Montgomery was no rake. He seemed genuinely distraught to hear of Sarah’s pregnancy and the loss of her child. Which made it all the more strange that Sarah had kept the news of her pregnancy from him.

  Perhaps she had been trying to protect him, knowing that the scandal would ruin him just as surely as it had ruined her. She may even have been in love with him, finding in the young naval officer what she had not found in her marriage. But whatever secrets had been in Sarah’s heart, she had taken them with her to the grave. Now it was up to Anne to decide what was best for all concerned.

  “The child was a boy. She named him Ian.”

  Captain Montgomery blinked back what looked suspiciously like tears. “Ian was my brother’s name. He was killed at the battle of Alexandria,” he said softly.

  It was the sign she needed. Sarah must have cared for this man, to have named their child after his brother.

  “I have something to tell you, but before I do so, I want your promise that you will not act on this information in any way unless you have my permission. Do you agree?” She would not reveal Ian’s existence until she was certain she could protect him.

  “How can I agree, if I don’t know what you are asking?”

  “Simply give me your word. You owe me that much. If not for me, then for Sarah’s sake.”

  He winced. “I promise. Whatever you ask, if it is in my power I will do it.”

  She hesitated, but in the end decided there was nothing she could do except trust that he was indeed a man of honor. “I am sure you have heard that the child was stillborn,” she said. “In truth, Colonel Fitzwilliam put the story about, to bury his shame.”

  It took a moment for her words to sink in. Then Captain Montgomery sat bolt upright, as if electrified. “You mean Ian is alive? Do you know where he is?”

  “Of course. He lives here with me.”

  He jumped to his feet. “You must take me to him. At once.”

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “No,” Anne repeated firmly. “If you saw him, what would you tell him?”

  “Why that I am his father, of course.”

  “Precisely. And that is why you can not see him.”

  Captain Montgomery argued, but Anne would not be swayed. She reminded him of his promise. He accused her of tricking him, then apologized for his rash words. He cajoled and pleaded, appealing to her compassion and invoking a father’s right to his children.

  At last Anne relented. “I will let you see him. But only if you agree to let me introduce you as an acquaintance. Nothing more.”

  “Agreed.” She knew he would have promised anything for a glimpse of his son.

  She summoned a footman and instructed him to bring Ian to them. Her nerves jangling, she nearly called the servant back. But before she could do so, Ian appeared.

  She had combed his hair only that morning, but from the tangles in his carrot-colored locks one would think he had not seen a comb or brush in a week. And he must have been playing with his tin soldiers, for the knees of his breeches had faint circles of dust. She fought the urge to apologize for Ian’s appearance. There was nothing she needed to explain to Captain Montgomery.

  Ian’s eyes widened as he caught sight of their visitor.

  As the lad came into the room, Captain Montgomery stood and Anne rose as well.

  “Ian, this is Captain Montgomery of the Royal Navy. Captain, this is my son, Ian Webster.”

  Ian ducked his head in an awkward bow.

  “I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Master Ian.”

  “Thank you,” Ian said.

  He glanced from the captain to Anne and then back again, seeming to sense the tension between them.

  “Since the captain is visiting today, I thought you would like to join us for tea,” Anne said, by way of explanation.

  “Yes, Mama,” Ian said. He came over to stand beside her, careful to keep her between himself and their guest.

  She led the way across the hall into the green salon, where the servants had already set out the tea tray. Anne chose a seat on the chintz sofa and drew Ian down beside her. The captain sat opposite them.

  It was the most uncomfortable half-hour of her life. True to his word, the captain said nothing to Ian indicating he was anything more than a casual visitor. But he could not disguise the hunger in his eyes when he looked at his son. Still, they both tried to behave as if nothing was amiss.

  Ian gradually warmed to the captain, peppering him with questions about life at sea. Having made the journey from Canada to England, Ian considered himself an expert sailor. Ian was briefly disappointed when the captain confirmed Anne’s assertion that a boy of six was too young to join the navy, but managed to console himself with a second cream cake.

  Anne breathed a prayer of relief when tea was finished and she was able to send Ian away.

  “He is a fine boy,” Captain Montgomery said, once they were both alone.

  “Yes.”

  “He calls you Mama.” It was not quite a question.

  “As you heard. He knows his real mother was my sister, but when she died I became his new mother.”

  “It is quite a thing for an unmarried woman to take o
n a child.”

  She had known that it would not take him long to reach the obvious conclusion. “As you have no doubt guessed, most people assume that Ian is my natural child. Colonel Fitzwilliam buried the scandal very well.”

  “I admire your compassion, but you should never had had to bear this burden. The responsibility is mine.”

  “Ian is not a duty or a responsibility,” Anne argued. “I love him as my own son.”

  “Indeed. But now it is time for me to do my share, and to make amends for the past. I can think of nothing that would give me more pleasure than for my wife and I to raise Ian as our own.”

  “Your wife?” Had she been mistaken in his character?

  “Yes. We were married two years ago,” he said quickly.

  “Ah.”

  “Well, will you consider my offer?”

  She did not need time to think. “No. Ian is as dear to me as if he were truly my son. I will not turn him over to strangers.”

  “I understand how much you care for him. But you must think of what is best for Ian. He would have a loving family, and benefit from a father’s guidance. I would adopt him and claim him publicly as my own. I would ensure that he lacks for nothing.”

  “He lacks for nothing now.”

  “Except a father’s love. How can you deny him the chance to know his only living parent?”

  “So you say now. But what will your wife think? How can you expect her to raise your bastard child? Will she not wish to protect her own children?”

  He flinched. “We have no children. And after last year’s stillbirth, the doctors have told me that my wife will never bear a child. Ian is my son. The only son I will ever have. You can not be so cruel as to keep him from me.”

  She found herself pitying him. His anguish seemed sincere. But no words could convince her to part with Ian.

  “I am the only family Ian has ever known. I will not deprive him of that.”

  “He has another family. He deserves the chance to know us.”

  She shook her head. “My mind is made up. I told you of Ian only because I knew that someday you would find out. It was best that you learn the truth from me and see for yourself that he is being well cared for.”

  Captain Montgomery thought for a moment. “If you will not do this for Ian’s sake, then what of your own? You said yourself your reputation has suffered. Let me acknowledge Ian as my son. Once the truth is known, your reputation will be restored.”

  She realized that if Captain Montgomery claimed Ian as his own, she would be free to marry Freddie. But as soon as the thought occurred, she was ashamed of herself. How could she be so selfish, to think of her own happiness over Ian’s?

  “If Sarah had wanted you to raise Ian, she would have sent for you,” Anne said harshly. “But she did not. She gave him into my care. And my mind is firm on this.”

  “Wait,” Captain Montgomery said, clearly recognizing the value of a strategic retreat. “Do not make a decision in haste. I realize my coming here has been a shock. I will give you time to consider what is best for Ian.”

  She wished a thousand times over that she had never told him of Ian’s existence. If only she could turn back the clock and leave the words unsaid. But they had been spoken. And now she had to deal with the consequences.

  “I will think about what you have said.” But no matter of thought would change her answer. She would never let Ian go. Not for anything.

  Thirteen

  Freddie’s mind was filled with thoughts of Anne, but try though he did, it was midafternoon before he was able to escape from Beechwood Park. It seemed there were a hundred things which required his personal attention. First, he had to bid a courteous farewell to those guests who were leaving, including his sister Elizabeth and her husband David Rutledge. He was genuinely sorry to see them go.

  Most of his other guests had chosen to remain through the weekend. He was disappointed, but not surprised, that Miss Sommersby and her parents were not among those who were departing.

  Then he had to confer with the illuminators who had staged last night’s spectacle. They insisted on his touring the grounds, to prove that no lasting harm had been done by the fireworks. Only then would they accept their fee.

  Every time he turned around, it seemed there was someone requiring his attention. Servants, with questions about restoring the grand room after the ball. Guests, who wished to compliment him on last night’s entertainments. Young men, in search of Priscilla.

  Through it all he somehow managed to remain civil, though it took every ounce of his patience. Couldn’t they realize that he had more important things on his mind than deciding what to do with the wine that had been opened but not drunk last night? Every delay meant another minute that kept him from Anne, and from hearing her say that she would be his wife.

  At last he managed to free himself from his obligations. He simply refused to answer any more questions, pretending that he was deaf. Even then, one of the servants followed him right to the stables, until it became clear that his master had no intention of returning to the house to answer Lady Frederick’s summons.

  When he was shown into the library, he found Anne pacing across the carpet. She turned when she heard him enter, but she did not smile, nor did she rush to greet him.

  “Anne, what is wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  He crossed the distance that separated them, and took her hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze. As he drew closer he could see her eyes were rimmed in red, as if she had been crying. “Come now, you can tell me. What is troubling you?”

  She disengaged her hands from his, and drew back a pace. “It is nothing. Nothing that you can help me with.”

  “This has to do with your last caller,” he said. As he had ridden up, he had encountered a naval officer who apparently had just been leaving. Freddie would have sworn the man was a stranger, yet there had been something familiar in his appearance.

  Anne’s head jerked up. “What did he say?”

  “He merely bid me good day and rode on.”

  Anne sighed in apparent relief.

  “Who was he?” Freddie asked.

  Anne turned away and, with one hand, began tracing the carvings on the side of the fireplace. “I do not wish to talk about him,” she said.

  He could not understand what was happening. Anne had never before refused to confide in him. She had even trusted him with the story of Ian’s birth. What possible secret could there be that she could not bear to share with him?

  “Was that Ian’s father?”

  He expected her to deny it, but instead she nodded, looking old beyond her years.

  “What did he want?”

  “Nothing,” she said, but they both knew it for a lie.

  The man who had sired Ian would not have come on a mere social visit. There had been a reason for his appearance, and whatever that reason was, it had clearly distressed Anne.

  “Anne, there must be something I can do to help. Even if it is only to listen.” He would do anything for her, even challenge the captain to a duel, if only she would turn to him for help.

  “No,” she said. “I must make this decision on my own.”

  There was only one explanation for her coldness toward him. “Are you angry about last night? Do you wish me to apologize?”

  “Apologize? Whatever for?”

  “For kissing you.”

  “Oh. That.”

  A wave of humiliation crashed over him. How could she have forgotten so easily what they had shared? Had it truly been that forgettable for her?

  “I apologize if I took liberties,” he said.

  “There is no need.” A faint flush rose on her cheeks. Her tongue traced her lips as if remembering the sensations of last night. But he knew that it was an unconscious gesture, and not an invitation to repeat those pleasures. Anne was too tense for him to risk such a gesture. He did not know how she would respond.

  Last night he had felt so close to her. And
today, it was as if a stranger had taken her place.

  If only she was his. If they were married, or even simply engaged, then he would have a right to share her troubles and to protect her from whatever or whomever was troubling her.

  “So, have you thought about my proposal?” he asked.

  “No. Yes. I mean it is too soon for me to give you an answer.”

  “What is there to think about?”

  Her eyes sparked with anger, and he knew it had been the wrong thing to say.

  “One embrace is hardly the basis for deciding the rest of our lives,” she retorted. “There is more than our own happiness to consider. I must think of Ian and of what is best for all of us.”

  He heard the anger in her words, the unhappiness that lay underneath. It made him feel like the lowest of worms. “Anne, I am sorry if I pressed you. You know how I feel. I want to make you happy, to give you and Ian a home. But you can take all the time you need to decide.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He hoped she would invite him to tea or offer to confide in him. But she did not. There was a strain between them that he had never felt before. He wondered frantically what the man had said to cause such a change in Anne. What secret did she hold so tightly within her that caused her such misery?

  Anne had always confided in him, yet now she held herself apart from him. He could see it in the stiffness of her carriage, the way her eyes refused to meet his.

  He could press her for answers, but he would not. He did not want to jeopardize their relationship. Let her see that he trusted her. In time she would turn to him for help.

  “I can see you are distressed, so I will take my leave,” he said. “But please, if there is anything I can do, do not hesitate to send for me. Anything at all.”

  Unwilling to leave without some token of affection, he bent forward and kissed her cheek. She did not pull away, but neither did she return his gesture. He left, barely able to contain his disappointment. His one consolation was the sure knowledge that this was just a temporary setback. Today, she had been understandably troubled, but he knew that once she recovered her equilibrium, things would be as before and she would agree to be his wife.