The Heiress's Convenient Husband

by Regina Scott

  “I’m simply no longer willing to acquiesce,” James said.

  She’d turned her face to the view.

  Now she gazed out at the house she had once called home as the carriage drew up before the door. “We’ll lose this too, you know.”

  “I know,” James said. “But Eva has been looking for houses while I was away.”

  She sniffed. “Eva this and Eva that. It seems you’ve just exchanged one master for another.”

  He certainly hoped not.

  Eva must have heard the carriage pull up, for she was waiting just inside the door of the house. She dropped a deep curtsey as his mother came inside. “Mother Howland, welcome home.”

  His mother glanced around, lower lip beginning to tremble. “It looks just the same,” she murmured. “I could almost believe if I called, John would come out of his study to greet me. Oh, James, how can you give this all up?”

  His gut tightened. “Because it is only a house, Mother. Being my own master is worth far more to me.”

  Eva nodded. “And we hope to give you something better, something that will bring you equally warm memories. Do you recall Butterfly Manor?”

  His mother regarded her with a frown. “Certainly I recall Butterfly Manor. I always thought it was the prettiest house on Church Street. My parents had the lease. You remember, James.”

  “I remember, Mother,” he said.

  Eva’s eyes gleamed. “Then perhaps you will be pleased to know that I’ve leased it for us all to live in.”

  His mother waxed white, swayed on her feet, and James stepped forward, prepared to catch her and defend Eva’s choice.

  But his mother didn’t faint. She rushed forward and enfolded Eva in a hug.

  “Oh, my dear, dear girl! What a treasure you are! Welcome to the family.”

  ~~~

  Eva felt warm all over as Mrs. Howland released her. She couldn’t remember her mother, her father had never had close female acquaintances, and the countess had discouraged familiarity. How surprisingly lovely to feel that a lady of maternal age approved of her.

  “I’m so glad she liked the idea,” Eva told James after they had settled his mother in her room and returned downstairs. “Mrs. Kirby seemed to think you might object.”

  “My family’s connection to Butterfly Manor is long and contentious,” he said as they sat in the withdrawing room by the fire. Pym came in to draw the drapes against the darkening sky. “But I’m hoping for happier memories now.”

  Eva leaned forward. “And what of your trip to London? Did you achieve your goals?”

  “Not exactly.” He turned his gaze to the fire, the red glowing on his cheeks. “I managed to extract Mother, but the earl and the countess think she’s on holiday. And the earl refused to listen to any idea that he might be mistreating you.”

  “Only to be expected,” Eva commiserated. “And the settlement, the special license?”

  “I located a young solicitor named Julian Mayes who was willing to draw up the necessary papers. But I decided against the special license. I realized if I go to the Archbishop, word would get back to the earl immediately. I secured a license from the local bishop instead on the way home. We can be married Wednesday or later next week.”

  “That long?” Eva bit her lip.

  “Already reconsidering?” he asked, turning to look at her as if he could see the thoughts swirling through her mind.

  “No,” she said. “At least, not very often. And I suppose there’s still much to do.”

  He nodded. “Not only for the wedding but to set matters to rights should the earl sever all ties.”

  “I hope it won’t come to that, at least for your position. I understand Mr. Greer had some trouble leading the militia while you were gone.”

  He frowned. “The militia was not to drill while I was away.”

  “It wasn’t a drill. There was a fire on the hillside near the castle. Mr. Greer mustered the militia to fight it. No one was hurt. I had Jesslyn give my key to Mr. Denby so he and her brother could check inside. They found everything as it should be.”

  “Good,” he said.

  Eva regarded him. “Good? I thought you wanted the miscreant plaguing the castle to be captured.”

  “I do,” he assured her, “but I would prefer to be involved in the process.”

  A bit territorial, but she supposed he had that right after caring for the place all these years.

  He pushed up from the chair. “I’ll go see to the castle myself before retiring. At least I can confirm that the earl hasn’t sent anyone else into exile.”

  “Yet,” Eva predicted, rising as well. “Take Yeager or Pym with you.”

  His brows went up. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be fine. Lark and Alex should be back on duty. Do not feel you must wait up.” With a bow, he left.

  Eva walked slowly to her room. She could almost see the wall he’d put up at her questions. He had to be tired—four days to and from London meant he’d traveled from dawn until dusk. Why insist on visiting the castle?

  Their mysterious stranger had been cordial to Maudie, and they had no evidence he’d disturbed anything inside the house, but, if he’d been the one to start the fire, he was far from harmless. Was it only his duty that forced James out of the house now, or did he suspect something more than he’d confided?

  Despite his admonition, she did wait up until she heard the stairs creak. Then she slipped from the bed and tiptoed to the door to crack it open enough to peer out. He was entering his bedchamber down the way. He didn’t appear to be limping or nursing an arm, so he must be fine. She shut the door and allowed herself to go to sleep at last.

  The next few days passed in such a rush she did not even have time to visit the spa. She reviewed the agreement Mr. Mayes had drafted and signed two copies. Yeager and Mrs. Howland served as witnesses. James mailed one copy to London to be filed with the solicitor and gave the other to Eva for her safekeeping.

  “So you never need be concerned about your future again,” he told her.

  They also signed the lease agreement for Butterfly Manor.

  “Lord Peverell’s agent was quite pleased with it,” Mrs. Kirby said. “I expect a signed counter-copy returned shortly. You should be able to move in immediately following your wedding.”

  Then there were the little details that went into planning a ceremony. Theirs was not a love match, but that didn’t mean it shouldn’t be memorable. Eva hardly intended to be married more than once.

  “The vicar wanted to know how private we wished the wedding to be,” she explained to James as they were helping the servants by packing books in his study.

  He cocked his head as if considering the matter. “If I was marrying at the behest of the earl, it would either be an ostentatious thing in London or my own sitting room with only the necessary witnesses in attendance.”

  Eva made a face as she placed a book in the crate. “Well, I like neither of those. You are the village magistrate. They admire you—I can see it. We’ll wed in St. Andrew’s and allow anyone to attend.”

  His mouth quirked. “Even Mrs. Tully’s trolls?”

  “Well, perhaps not them,” Eva said with a smile. “And I imagine it might be terribly inconvenient for the mermaids, but they’ll simply have to make do.”

  James laughed.

  Now, that was a fine sound. She felt rather clever to have given him a moment of joy. Let’s see what could be done to make their wedding just as pleasant.

  She and Maudie met for fittings of their gowns from the Misses Pierce, who allowed that the purple was rather fetching, particularly with the cream lace that edged the neck and short sleeves. Mr. Inchley, the grocer, agreed to cater the wedding breakfast, which was to be held in the assembly rooms. Mrs. Kirby offered to arrange for flowers to decorate the space. And James took Eva down to Mr. Lawrence, the jeweler, to select a ring.

  “Choose whatever you fancy,” he murmured beside her ear as they entered. “I’ve money until the ear
l decides to discharge me.”

  She could certainly have put it on her credit, as she should have more than enough to pay for any ring in the shop, but it had been a long time since anyone had assumed they would pay for her expenses. She came to stand by the counter, where the jeweler stood beaming over the tray of rings. He was a dapper fellow, with a trim figure and a curling mustache. His brown eyes brightened as if he couldn’t wait to see what she would select.

  Eva picked up a simple gold band etched in the center with a heart. “This one.”

  James nodded to the heavier, plainer version. “And that for me.”

  Eva glanced back at him in surprise. “Do gentlemen generally wear rings? My father didn’t, but my mother had been gone for some years.”

  He met her gaze. “We have a partnership, Eva. If you wear a ring, so do I.”

  Warmth pushed up inside her.

  “An excellent choice, Magistrate, Miss Faraday,” Mr. Lawrence said as she looked his way again. “Let me just take your measurements, and I’ll have these sized appropriately. They will be ready by Tuesday.”

  “One more thing checked off the list,” Eva said as they left the jeweler’s. “Have you decided on your attendant?”

  “I asked Captain St. Claire,” he said.

  “The pirate?” Eva asked.

  He stumbled then righted himself. “Pirate? Where did you…let me guess. Mrs. Tully supplied his occupation.”

  “Yes,” Eva admitted as they started up the hill. “But I cannot argue with her. All that swagger and bravado seems too large for anything less.”

  “He was a captain in the Royal Navy,” James explained. “A war injury forced him into seclusion, but it’s nearly healed now.”

  “That’s not what he claims,” Eva told him. “He says his knee prevents him from ever sailing again.”

  “A shame,” James said, and she wasn’t sure if it was Captain St. Claire’s supposed injury or his claim of such that inspired the comment.

  She stopped as they reached the corner of Church and High Street. “I’ll leave you to your work. I must go up to the spa and speak to Maudie. I realized I don’t know whether she needs new gloves. I’ll see you at the house shortly.”

  He inclined his head. “As you wish.” He started up Church Street.

  And there was swagger enough for any lady to see. Such an impressive build, such a confident step. The black top hat contrasted nicely with the gold of his hair.

  He was going to be her husband.

  Once more she heard her father’s voice. You’ve purchased yourself a good one, Eva. Quite the bargain.

  She shuddered as she started for the spa. She’d loved her father, but one of the reasons he’d done so well for himself was because he’d viewed every person, each activity, as a transaction. She could not see James that way.

  Yet, how else was she to view this marriage? A partnership, he’d called it. And she’d held out hope that more would come. Now that he would be dependent on her for his income, would he ever learn to love her for herself?

  No! She would not think of that, or she’d be tempted to call the entire thing off. At least by marrying James, she saved him and his mother from the earl. That had to count for something.

  She stepped inside the spa, inhaled the clean air. The hint of lavender she remembered seemed fainter than usual, but perhaps that was because she’d walked more in the sea air. She should have a chat with Miss Chance, compare notes on how they were planning their weddings. Miss Chance was supposed to be something of a matchmaker, James had mentioned. She probably had all kinds of insights to share. And Mrs. Harding was always in the first stare of fashion.

  Eva moved beyond the entrance into the columned space. The utter silence pressed in on her. Every wicker chair stood empty. The chessboard sat abandoned. The fountain was dry and lacked a single crystal glass waiting to be filled.

  “Is anyone here?” she called. Her voice echoed.

  A door in the far wall opened, and a gentleman stepped out. He was tall and well built, with a noble brow from which waved back warm-brown hair. As he came closer, she could see wise grey eyes and solemn lips. He was dressed in a tailored navy coat and buff breeches like a London gentleman.

  “May I be of assistance?” he asked politely in polished upper-class tones.

  “Where is everyone?” Eva asked. “Miss Chance, Mrs. Tully, Lord Featherstone and Mr. Crabapple, Mrs. Harding, Mrs. North and her son, Miss Tapper? And you can’t have hidden the Admiral.”

  His smile remained pleasant, but it did not reach his eyes.

  “Gone,” he said. “Apparently, they found my presence offensive. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Doctor Linus Bennett, the new director of the spa.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  James caught himself smiling as he remembered Eva’s awe in looking over the rings. Lawrence had a gift with metals and gems and an eye for beauty. But James thought it was more than the gleam of gold that had fascinated her.

  He’d felt the weight of those rings as well. These weren’t rings designed to match a gown that would be out of style next Season. They weren’t produced to proclaim a person’s position or pedigree. Wedding bands spoke of commitment, promised forever.

  He’d always wondered if the earl would allow him even the choice of a bride or if he would order him to marry a particular lady for the good of the family. Never had he considered that, if the choice were his, he would not be marrying for love.

  Yet there was something about Eva. That sparkle in her eyes, that conspiratorial grin. His father had feared James would go too far in his determination to protect his friends and family from the earl’s predations. His mother had abandoned him for London. His role as magistrate often kept the rest of the village at a distance. Quill followed his own star. It had been a long time since James had felt he had a friend, someone who would stand beside him, no matter the cost.

  What, was he succumbing to the sentimental? Loving anyone had never been safe. If the earl knew of it, he would use the person against him. Or remove her from his life forever as he’d done with Felicity.

  He opened the door of the magistrate’s house to find Pym hopping from foot to foot in the entryway, as if the marble tiles had suddenly grown hot.

  “Oh, good, you’re back,” he said, rushing forward. “I didn’t know how much longer I could keep him from going in search of you.”

  His gut clenched. “The earl is here?”

  Pym washed white. “Certainly not. I would have gone in search of you in that case. No, it’s Captain St. Claire. He’s in your study. Mr. Priestly promptly claimed business elsewhere.”

  “And my mother?” James asked, turning toward his study.

  “Went down to the market to inspect the goods on offer herself,” Pym said, scurrying along beside him. “I will not be surprised if she returns with a cook as well. She feels cooking isn’t my place.”

  “Discuss the matter with her if she returns,” James instructed him, hand on the latch of the study door. “Keep her busy until I’m done with the captain.”

  “Of course.” Pym quickly withdrew.

  James went into his study and shut the door behind him. Seated in James’s chair, booted feet on the desk, Quill saluted him with a glass of lemonade. “Hail the conquering hero. I understand your trip to London was successful and congratulations are in order.”

  “A change of accommodation is in order,” James countered, coming around the desk. “Move.”

  Quill tsked as he lowered his feet and rose. “If this is how you react to your impending nuptials, I shudder to think how well you’ll respond to wedded bliss.”

  “What do you need, Quill?” James asked.

  His friend ambled around the desk and studied the chair on the opposite side a moment before deigning to sit. “There was a fire at the castle while you were gone.”

  “Eva told me,” James said, taking the seat Quill had vacated.

  “Did she also tell you she roused the mili
tia to deal with it? And let Denby into the castle proper? Gave me and my men a good few moments of concern, I can tell you.”

  “I imagine it might have. I went up last night hoping to find you.”

  “We won’t go over again until next week at the earliest,” he said. “But I thought you should know that we may have a bit more insight into your mysterious visitor.”

  Pulse quickening, James leaned forward. “Oh?”

  “We weren’t the only ones at sea the night of the fire. We nearly ran afoul of another vessel coming in toward the cliffs. I can’t be certain because it veered off, but it looked to be making for the Dragon’s Maw.”

  James frowned. “Other smugglers?”

  “Too small to be very profitable, and I never caught sight of a larger vessel that night before spotting them. No, I fear it was the enemy.”

  He swallowed. “French spies?”

  “It’s a distinct possibility. It would explain why someone would be so bold as to enter an occupied castle, not once but twice. Leaving evidence behind jeopardizes the lives of hundreds of French soldiers when military intelligence is involved.”

  “The code we found,” James agreed. “I left a copy with the War Office, as you instructed. They did not give me the impression they intended to be forthcoming.”

  “Well,” Quill said, leaning back, “there is a war on.”

  James shook his head. “A war you and I are willing to help fight, if we are given the information we need to do so. As it is, perhaps you’d better relocate your efforts. The earl was determined to make Eva pay, so I didn’t bother asking him to bless our union. Once the marriage becomes known beyond Grace-by-the-Sea, I could well lose all access to the castle and the maps and ledgers in this office. That would make me of little use to you.”

  “Never, my friend,” Quill assured him. “In fact, with you being out from under the earl’s thumb, you could be of even greater use. Come with us next run. Take the news to Whitehall. You and Majestic can move faster than most of my men and with fewer questions as to why you might feel a sudden desire to visit the metropolis.”