An Unlikely Father

by Lynn Collum

  “It is unfortunate you employ no maids, but that is not my concern.” She went to the table and had to stifle a laugh as she gave Wesley a kiss. The child was now covered in tiny red and white flecks of the remnants of the shredded whist deck. Then she walked back to where Honoria and Jamie forlornly waited, giving each a kiss.

  “Be good for your uncle. I shall write to inquire how you like your new home. Good-bye.”

  Without a backward glance, Miss Collins walked out the door and closed it behind her. Oliver was appalled to be left alone with his young relations. He knew nothing about caring for children. He eyed the boy and girl with anxiety, then turned his gaze on the unkempt baby crawling about on the table beside him. The tot was in his own world, babbling and tossing the few remaining undamaged cards to the floor.

  Without the least warning, the little girl burst into heart-wrenching sobs, and her brother stared at his uncle as if he’d lost his best friend. The tiny black creature, which Oliver had decided was a dog despite his miniature size, began to bark at him with zeal. What was he to do with this lot? He hadn’t the least notion.

  He really couldn’t think due to the din. All he was certain of was that he couldn’t manage this troublesome lot without a female, and at the moment the only females around were the annoying Miss Collins and her companion. Then he realized that perhaps if he were contrite enough, he could convince the termagant not to leave just yet, at least until he’d hired a new nurse.

  “Do be quiet, girl,” Oliver barked. Honoria sputtered to a hiccupping silence. About to follow Miss Collins, the earl suddenly realized he couldn’t leave his nephew on the table unattended. He scooped the baby up under his arm like a sack of potatoes, a shower of card bits falling to the floor, and made toward the door. But the small ball of black fur with legs reached the portal first, growling and barking at him as well as blocking his path.

  “You, boy, get this hairy rat out of my way.”

  The lad obediently whistled, and the small creature ran to him. Oliver ordered the older children to come with him, then he tore the door open and hurried into the hall. To his relief he discovered the ladies in conversation with Sir Ethan.

  He marched straight up to the trio, the baby wiggling under his arm and babbling incoherently. “Miss Collins, I must have a word with you.” He did his best to look contrite, even though he wanted to order her to remember he was an earl and therefore someone to be treated with respect. Her cold glare gave him pause. He was quite unused to females taking him in dislike.

  There was not the least bit of remorse reflected in her amber eyes for abandoning him with these children, but he was surprised to see she’d removed her bonnet as if she meant to stay. It gave him his first unobstructed view of her. Light brown curls were pulled into an unflattering knot at her neck. Her face was delicately carved, but her manner was haughty. He couldn’t decide if he thought her attractive or not, since the only feature he could admire as she watched him were her fine amber eyes.

  Remembering his mission to appease her, he cleared his throat. He had a thousand things he would like to say about her conduct, but instead he forced himself to say, “Pray, allow me to apologize for the reception you have received here tonight. This has all been a simple misunderstanding, I assure you.” He could see that his words were having little effect as she stared back at him. Desperate, he pleaded, “You cannot leave me here without some assistance. The children trust you and Mrs. Keaton. Surely they would be far happier not to be abandoned to strangers who haven’t the least notion of how to meet their needs.”

  Emily cast her gaze downward, not wanting his lordship to see the satisfaction glowing there. So the arrogant lord was admitting he needed help. He’d made it clear in the drawing room he would be an absentee guardian who would leave the children to be raised by paid servants, not wanting his life disrupted. Not something she would want for Jamie, Honoria and Wesley—or any child for that matter. She was convinced that if he came to know his young wards, he couldn’t resist them.

  At last she raised her chin, staring into those mesmerizing blue eyes. “Mrs. Keaton and I shall stay and help the children settle in, for their sakes. You will require a nurse for Wesley and a governess with proficiency in Latin and History to prepare Jamie for Eton as well as to instruct Honoria.”

  Forgetting all his good intentions and without a thought to the consequences, Oliver barked, “Madam, I don’t need you to tell me what must be done. I know what is needed for my wards.” Then, seeing Miss Collins’s back stiffen, he remembered he was trying to appease the lady. He could ill afford to alienate this difficult female, at least for tonight. It took great effort, but at last he was able to modulate his tone to the proper degree. “Please, forgive my temper. I can only say the shock of your sudden arrival has made me forget my manners.”

  The lady gave a nod of her head, then extended her arms to Lord Hawksworth. A look of surprise crossed his face—as if he’d want to embrace such a contrary creature—until he realized that she wanted to take possession of his squirming nephew. He righted young Wesley, sending a new shower of card bits to the marble floor, and handed him to her.

  She turned to her own servant, who stood quietly against the wall holding Matilda’s rope. “Swarup, show his lordship’s man what is to be unloaded.”

  Lord Hawksworth’s eyes widened at the sight of the large Indian, but he made no comment. Instead, he ordered Martin to summon assistance, remove the animals and to see to Miss Collins’s and Mrs. Keaton’s comfort. Then he announced that he and Sir Ethan would be in the library if needed. With that the gentlemen bowed as the ladies were led upstairs.

  At the landing, Emily glanced back. The earl was wiping his coat as if he could rid himself not only of the bits of colored pasteboard, but his responsibility as well. No doubt his plan was to ignore his niece and nephews as much as possible, but that was not in the children’s best interest. A rake might be an unlikely father, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t be shown how to be a loving one, and Emily promised herself that was just what she intended to do before she left Hawk’s Lair.

  Three

  Lord Hawksworth and Sir Ethan made a hasty retreat to the library when the hulking brown servant began to order the castle’s footmen to stack a collection of trunks and woven baskets in the Great Hall. After closing the door, the earl went straight to his desk and poured a large measure of brandy from the cut-crystal decanter into two glasses.

  Sir Ethan, taking a seat in front of the fire, accepted the drink, then waited for his lordship to be seated before he spoke. “I’m dreadfully sorry about your brother and his wife. Were you close?”

  Oliver slumped back in the leather armchair, swirling the honey-brown liquid in the glass. “At one time.” He fell silent and gazed into the fire, lost in memories of long ago when he and James had been best friends. At last remembering his manners, he looked at his friend. “I tried to talk him out of going to the Indies, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  The baronet nodded. “Determined to make his own fortune?”

  The earl took a sip of his brandy. “Our dear departed stepmother had convinced him that I was denying him his rightful share of our father’s estate. He threw the offer of an estate in Yorkshire and fifteen-thousand pounds per annum back in my face. Said he would go to Calcutta and come back a nabob, to prove he didn’t need my meager castoffs.”

  Sir Ethan’s brows rose. The offer was far more generous than most younger sons would ever receive. “To be sure, every man must follow his own path. He was very young at the time he and his lady departed. My guess would be that he regretted his words many times over the past ten years.”

  With a sigh, Oliver ran a hand through his hair, mussing the neat arrangement. “I suppose you are correct.”

  “Really, old fellow, you must look on the bright side of all this. You will be able to raise your heir and the so-called spare without the inconvenience of a wife.” Hawksworth cast his friend a knowing glance. He was well awa
re that Sir Ethan had been briefly married nearly fifteen years ago. He never spoke of his late wife, but there had been rumors of an unhappy union. The ladies of Society often lamented that the baronet, a handsome man with his auburn hair and muscular build, never formed a permanent relationship after his period of mourning. It was clear that the man thought of a wife as an encumbrance.

  “ ’Tis certain I know of one lady who would make a very inconvenient wife.” Oliver raised his gaze towards the ceiling to indicate Miss Collins.

  The baronet chuckled. “But a dashedly good mother, if her hearty defense of your niece and nephews is any indication. Reminded me of my own dear mother in that manner.”

  The earl made no comment. He had few memories of his own mother and very bitter ones of his stepmother. Childless herself, Lady Agatha had done her best to pit the brothers against each other from the day she married their father.

  Just then a knock sounded on the door, and Martin entered the room. He came to stand facing his lordship to give his report, but he fell silent, seeming to hesitate as the earl gazed at him expectantly.

  Oliver, sensing some difficulty, asked, “Have the ladies and my young charges all been comfortably settled?”

  “They have, my lord. But Miss Collins said the nursery is a bit of a disgrace. Ordered us to put Master Jamie and Miss Honoria in the rooms across from her. I had Sam bring down a cradle and the little one is in with Mrs. Keaton.”

  Oliver arched a single brow and grinned at his friend. So Miss Collins was being difficult again. Looking back at the footman, the earl inquired, “And the menagerie? What did you do with the animals?”

  “Sent the goat to the stables, the birds are in Miss Honoria’s room and that little black furry creature is in with the young master.”

  “Despite looking like a hairy rodent, I do assure you it is a dog, for I have never heard of barking rats, even in the East Indies. You have done well, Martin. That will be all.”

  The footman lingered. “My lord, there is the matter of that great heathen brute Miss Collins brought.”

  “Put him in a room near the other servants.” Oliver didn’t understand the problem. There had to be any number of rooms vacant in the servants’ quarters since he kept a minimum staff at the castle due to his rare visits.

  “But ... well, my lord, the lads is scared to have him on the same floor.”

  It had been a long, trying day. Oliver was losing his patience. “Why? He is a servant like any other, despite his brown skin and turban.”

  Martin paled visibly at his master’s tone, but stood his ground. “When Colonel Pettigrew was here last year, he and his man had just returned from the Indies. The batman told us that men out there carry great poisonous snakes around in baskets and charm them out to do wicked deeds. This Swap chap has several such baskets with him.”

  Oliver heard Sir Ethan laugh under his breath. Having had quite enough of his peace disturbed for one night, the earl snapped, “I believe Miss Collins called him Swarup, and the baskets are no doubt filled with clothes or that goat would have been halfway to London in fright by now. But to ease your mind, put the Indian on the maids’ floor, since it is empty, and tell the lads to lock their doors. No snake, charmed or otherwise, can get through a locked barrier.”

  Martin seemed to relax at his lordship’s pronouncement. “Very good, my lord.” With a purposeful step he exited the room.

  “What else is going to disrupt us this evening?”

  Sir Ethan grinned. “You have become too used to the ordered routine of your life, Oliver. I think perhaps instantaneous fatherhood might be the making of you.”

  “Or the death of me.”

  Both men chuckled. Then Oliver settled back and again sipped at his brandy. A questioning expression came to his face. “How the deuce does one charm a dangerous snake?”

  “I believe the colonel spoke on the subject one night when we were blowing a cloud together. He said that in Calcutta they believe that when the viper is charmed by the playing of a flute, he will not bite.”

  Mention of the exotic land made the earl wonder what Miss Collins had been doing there. No doubt she had been employed as someone’s governess and was turned off for her insolence. As his thoughts centered on the woman who’d brought chaos to his life, he suspected tonight’s contretemps about the children would not be their last. She certainly was like no other woman of his acquaintance. Why, when he was at his most charming, she’d been little affected. “I could wish that such a flute would work on females as well.”

  “Are you thinking of the resolute Miss Collins? I suspect her bark is much worse than her bite.” Sir Ethan put his empty glass on the table beside his chair and rose.

  “That is easy for you to say. ’Twas not your hide she was flaying with her sharp tongue.” The earl tossed off the last of his brandy and joined his friend. They headed for the door.

  “Don’t tell me that you, who are famous for handling women, are going to allow a slip of a girl who speaks her mind to run roughshod over you.”

  “Absolutely.” Oliver laughed at his friend’s expression as he opened the door. “That is, until I hire a nurse and a governess to take charge of my young relatives. Then our outspoken Miss Collins had better watch her step.”

  The gentlemen exited the library and made their way up to their rooms for the night. Sir Ethan wondered if it wasn’t Oliver Carson who might lose the battle of wills with his unexpected house guest. If he was any judge of character, he thought life in India could not have been easy for Miss Collins. After all, it was a man’s world there, more so than even in England.

  There could be little doubt that there was a great strength of character to a woman who’d managed to get herself, a companion, three children and sundry animals all the way to England with the help of only a single servant. She was not some simpering Society miss, pampered and idle, but a woman who knew her own mind. In truth, she might be more than even his lordship could handle.

  As the gentlemen said their good nights, the baronet decided this impromptu house party might prove far more entertaining than he’d ever imagined. Not merely because of Oliver’s circumstances, but Sir Ethan might amuse himself with the children’s two delightful companions.

  While the gentlemen were finding their way to their beds in the east wing, the ladies were ensconced in elegant chambers in the west wing. With the children now fast asleep after glasses of warm milk, Emily and Delia had come together on the pretext of having some refreshments, but each was eager to know what the other thought of Lord Hawksworth.

  “Put the tray here,” Emily directed the servant, as Delia sat beside the fire in the small, elegant sitting room between their bedchambers. The apartment had a feminine quality, with pale pink curtains and pink-and-white striped satin chairs and pink damask sofas.

  Martin put down the silver tray holding the tea and cinnamon toast Miss Collins had requested, then bowed. “Will that be all, miss?”

  Emily looked to see if Delia required anything further.

  When her companion gave her a negative nod, Emily smiled at the footman. “I believe we are quite settled for the night. Don’t wait up for us to finish. I shall bring the tray to the kitchen in the morning when I come for the children’s breakfast.”

  Martin’s brown eyes widened. “You mustn’t do that, miss. Never set foot in Antoine’s kitchen. ’Tis a rule of the castle that no female may enter.”

  “No doubt so ordered by his lordship.” Really, Emily thought, the arrogant man was not to be tolerated.

  “That Frenchie cook don’t cotton to females interferin’ with his work, miss. His lordship says that the fellow is such a wonder with them sauces, that if he don’t want women about, there will be no women in the castle.” Martin shook his head in puzzlement that the earl would allow his cook such power. The footman missed having a tickle in the stillroom with one of the scullery maids now and again, but that had all ceased when Antoine arrived in the earl’s employ nearly a year ago.


  Emily felt her cheeks warm. She had wrongly accused the earl of being unable to control his baser needs as the reason for the lack of maids at the castle. She dismissed her error as a reasonable assumption anyone might have made about a notorious rake. Still, how absurd to allow a mere servant to control one’s entire household!

  A soft cough from Delia brought Emily out of her musing. She realized that Martin was waiting to be dismissed. “Then if I cannot go to the kitchens, I shall leave the tray here for you to take down in the morning. Pray wait on me at eight on the morrow, and I shall give instructions on what the children will require from this tyrant of the board.”

  With that the footman bowed. “Very good, Miss Collins.”

  As the door closed behind the departing servant, Emily took her seat at the table and began to pour out the tea. The pair, being quite famished, ate for several moments before Delia interrupted the silence.

  “He is very handsome.”

  Emily knew at once to whom her friend was referring, but chose to deliberately misunderstand. “I especially liked Sir Ethan’s auburn hair and the slight Scottish burr.”

  “You know I did not mean the baronet, though he is handsome in his own way.” Delia stared down into her teacup for a moment, then settled her penetrating gaze on her mistress and friend. “You always had your uncle’s protection at the few assemblies we attended in Calcutta. Things are quite different here. I suggest that you reestablish communication with your family. You must surely have some male relation who would provide protection from fortune hunters, my dear. You must exercise caution. Particularly with a gentleman like the earl, who appears to be a notorious rake.”

  Emily took the last bite of toast and chewed for several minutes. At last brushing the crumbs from her fingers, she vowed, “Oh, there are any number of Collins men who will spring from the woodwork once it is known I am in Town, but I want none of them lingering about. As for Lord Hawksworth, there is no need for him to know any of my circumstances while I am at Hawk’s Lair. Once I am certain he is prepared to be a proper guardian, we shall depart for London.” Emily had learned the lesson early that a fortune or lack thereof mattered a great deal to many people.