An Unlikely Father

by Lynn Collum

  The two vehicles barreled down the road towards Hawk’s Lair. The greys were an excellent team, but his chestnuts could overtake them easily on a regular pike. But this was a simple country lane, barely wide enough for one carriage. To Oliver’s frustration, he had to merely follow in a cloud of choking dust. The road they traveled twisted and turned, allowing the earl to watch the lady’s skill as she passed a hay cart and then guided the team in full flight through the narrow bridge near the village without so much as scratching the paint. With that daring maneuver, Oliver experienced a revelation. He had no idea who had taught the young lady, but he knew he must own that she drove to an inch.

  Miss Collins slowed the carriage and turned smoothly through the gates at Hawk’s Lair. She allowed the team to come to a cooling walk up the drive, guiding the curricle back to the stables. She was standing on the ground with a defiant smile as Oliver drove up. He knew he owed her an apology, for her abilities with the ribbons could rival that of most of the gentlemen of his acquaintance.

  Before he could utter a conciliatory word, she dropped her gaze to his driving cape. “Oh, I do apologize, sir. I did not intend for you to eat dust.”

  There was a twitch in her pink lips as she attempted not to smirk.

  “I am sure you did not. I believe it was crow you were hoping I would eat after watching you drive. And so I shall. Will you accept my humble apology and allow me to say your driving is bang up to the mark, Miss Collins?”

  Wary of his compliment, Emily eyed him doubtfully, but seeing only admiration, she at last gave a gentle smile. “Thank you, my lord. My uncle was a notable whip and would accept no less in his pupil. As to your cattle, I hope you will not blame the grooms, for ’twas I who ordered the greys and your curricle.”

  Oliver cocked one dark brow. “I never had a doubt who was responsible.”

  At that moment young Jamie came dashing up from the gardens, Mrs. Keaton, Sir Ethan and Honoria following behind at a more sedate pace.

  “We saw you and Miss Collins racing up the road from yon tower.” The boy pointed to the small folly near by the lake which gave one an excellent view of the surrounding countryside.

  Hawksworth frowned. “We weren’t racing. Miss Collins was just demonstrating her skill with the ribbons.”

  Sir Ethan grinned, “Aye, I’d say the same, if I had been the one bringing up the rear, laddie. Me, I’d put my money on the lady in a contest any day.”

  About to dispute the notion of a race, Hawksworth held his tongue when the sounds of several carriages echoed in the crisp air. Soon, two large traveling coaches and a fourgon loaded with a great many trunks came up the drive, heading for the front of the castle at a moderate pace.

  Watching the arrival, all were curious as to the newcomers, but only Delia held a wish as to the identity of the visitor. She hoped that at last Squire Joshua Collins had come to remove his niece from Lord Hawksworth’s fatal charms.

  Oliver, his mood surprisingly sanguine despite the added burden of new uninvited guests, offered Miss Collins his arm. “Shall we see who has come to pay a visit?”

  While Hawksworth had been adjusting to the difficulties of guardianship, his former guests, Mr. Abbot and Mr. Bonham, had returned to Town more than eager to gossip about the house party. With few details or facts, they had titillated Society with the tale of two females and three children, bearing a remarkable resemblance to his lordship, who had arrived at Hawk’s Lair bringing the party to an abrupt close with the announcement that the children were his lordship’s family.

  By the time the story came to the Dowager Lady Hawksworth, it had come to sound as if her grandson was setting up a nursery full of by-blows at the family estate. The lady dismissed the rumors as balderdash, knowing Oliver would never saddle himself with a pack of low-born brats. But when an anxious Lord Halcomb and his daughter arrived within a day, her ladyship knew that action must be taken to ensure that her grandson did not squander his chance at marriage with the wealthy and beautiful Lady Cora.

  The marquess, his daughter, Lady Hawksworth and Miss Millet had set out for Hawk’s Lair at once. It had been a trying two days’ journey, the entourage having to stop every few hours to allow Lady Cora to walk to overcome her carriage sickness. The dowager was thoroughly disgusted by the smell of lavender water which seemed to permeate the marquess’s coach, but after all, she wouldn’t be the one saddled with the seemingly delicate young beauty.

  As the door to the castle was opened by the butler, Lady Hawksworth heard a child’s laughter on the afternoon breeze. Before the lady could take a step, two children came dashing round the north tower of the castle. They drew to a halt at the sight of her and the other guests. The dowager was suddenly struck with the notion that she might be wrong about the rumors. She exchanged a questioning glance with Luella Millet, but her companion seemed as puzzled as she.

  Oliver too often thumbed his nose at Society. Worry began to tug at the dowager’s confidence. Had her grandson gone queer in the attic and brought his base-born offspring to the family seat?

  Lady Hawksworth knew quick action was demanded or the scandal would ruin all her plans. She hurried into the Great Hall as her companion, the marquess and his daughter followed.

  Nora drew off her pomona-green kid gloves. “Bedows, are there children residing at the castle?”

  “Yes, my lady. They are—”

  “Luella,” her ladyship interrupted, fearing what the butler was about to say, “accompany Lord Halcomb and Lady Cora to their rooms at once. See to their every comfort.”

  When the marquess looked as if he might protest, the dowager added, “I am sure you will want to see your daughter safely settled after such an arduous journey as it appears to have been for her. Also you will wish to freshen up before you come to the drawing room to meet my grandson. You can have no doubt that I would prefer a word alone with Hawksworth first. I shall have tea sent up to you.”

  With a disgruntled look on his lined face, Lord Halcomb took his wilted daughter’s other elbow as he and Miss Millet ushered the ailing young lady up the stairs behind a castle footman, the girl’s maid trailing behind. Once the party was out of sight, Lady Hawksworth turned to the butler to demand, “I wish to see my grandson in the library. Immediately!”

  But before the butler could inform her ladyship that the gentleman was out, the front door opened to admit the earl, escorting two ladies unknown to her, Sir Ethan Russell and the two children her ladyship had seen earlier.

  Upon close inspection of the young ones, the dowager’s worst fears were realized. The pair looked remarkably like Hawksworth with their dark curls and blue eyes.

  Oliver walked up to his grandmother to greet her, but she stood unresponsive as he brushed a kiss on her wrinkled cheek. Seemingly oblivious to the lady’s disturbed state, he nonchalantly inquired, “Where is the estimable Miss Millet?”

  “Never mind about Luella.” She glared at her grandson, then remembering her manners, peered round the earl. “Good day to you, Sir Ethan.” She gave a stiff nod to the gentleman, then her tone grew haughty and cold as she swept the women and children with an unfriendly glare. “Who are these people, Hawksworth?” The earl smiled at the children. “Jamie, Honoria, come and greet your great-grandmother.”

  Upon hearing the names of her never-before-seen great-grandchildren, the fierce look on the dowager’s face changed to one of amazement, then delight. The young pair stepped obediently forward, but were uncertain about this female who was their father’s grandmother. She’d been so angry and sharp, they weren’t certain they wished to meet her.

  “My young James and little Honoria, you have come all the way from India at last.” The old woman’s grey eyes grew moist as she extended her arms to the children who hesitantly went to her. The earl quickly explained about the loss of the children’s mother during the birth of the newest Carson, Wesley. Unfortunately, they still awaited word on the fate of their father. Despite the dark news, the dowager kissed and hugged
the children, telling them not to worry, for they were now home.

  Emily, watching the meeting, was touched by the old woman’s genuine joy at meeting her young descendants. This greeting was everything that the earl’s hadn’t been. Here was the family member who might fulfill all the children’s needs. Emily was pleased, yet she suddenly felt displaced.

  That was, until the old woman’s gaze settled on her. There was a visible coolness in the lady’s inquiring eyes. “Hawksworth, you forget your manners. Introduce your other guests.”

  “My lady, may I present Mrs. Delia Keaton and Miss Emily Collins, who were kind enough to escort the children back from the Indies.

  “Ladies, my grandmother, Nora, Dowager Countess of Hawksworth.”

  The women exchanged polite civilities with the dowager, who offered profound thanks for their bringing the children home. With a wave of her hand, her ladyship then claimed fatigue from her own journey and asked them all to join her in some refreshments. They moved to the Blue Drawing Room, and within minutes Bedows appeared with tea, sandwiches and seed cakes. Lady Hawksworth insisted the children be allowed to remain. Emily and Delia took them to wash their hands, and upon their return there was a very lively tea party.

  In no time at all the story of the children’s departure from Calcutta due to their father’s illness and arrival at the castle had been unfolded in more detail for the countess by first Emily, then Hawksworth. But as the old lady listened to the flow of conversation, she was curious why, after nearly a week, her grandson was still dancing attendance on his wards. And why were the ladies, newly-arrived from Calcutta, still in residence at the castle? Had they no place to be?

  It seemed far more likely that Oliver would have hired the proper servants, then come to inform her of the children’s arrival. Knowing her grandson, Lady Hawksworth had little doubt it wasn’t his wards who were keeping him here.

  The dowager soon settled on the reason why her grandson lingered at the castle as she watched the exchange of conversation between Miss Collins and Hawksworth. There was a look of interest in her grandson’s eyes as his gaze rested on the young lady that worried Nora deeply.

  The countess centered her own attention on this unknown female. The young lady was pretty enough but well past the first blush of youth. She was most certainly not in Oliver’s usual style, with her demure ways and unassuming airs. While her gown was well-made, it was neither very stylish nor provocative. She looked very much like any number of country misses one would meet at a local assembly. Not a female who should be intriguing Hawksworth, and yet she was. Suddenly all Nora’s plans for her grandson appeared in danger. Was this little nobody from India thinking she might snare herself a titled husband? Not if the countess had anything to say about it—and she would.

  As the party broke up, Emily and Delia offered to take the children back to the nursery. With a promise to visit them before dinner and meet her newest great-grandson, the dowager kissed the children farewell. At the same time Sir Ethan excused himself, suspecting that the lady wished a few words of private conversation with her grandson.

  Lady Hawksworth watched as the earl’s gaze trailed Miss Collins’s exit. The countess knew she needed to put a stop to this attraction at once. As the door closed on the lady’s back, she said, “Mayhap I should mention that Lord Halcomb and his daughter accompanied me to Hawk’s Lair. They are even now resting in their rooms.”

  There was no show of emotion on her grandson’s face at her announcement, but seeing the knuckles whiten on his hand as his fists clenched, Lady Hawksworth knew he was not well pleased. His words confirmed as much.

  “What inspired you to drag Halcomb and Lady Cora to Hawk’s Lair?”

  “The marquess heard rumors not to his liking.”

  Oliver gave a mirthless laugh. “Rumors! Gad, madam, if he is nervous about a few rumors regarding me, he’d best keep his daughter safe at home in London. My way of life has always been a great topic for the gossips.”

  Nora leaned back in her chair and gazed intently at the earl. “He is a man of the world, Oliver. He would pay little heed to tales of your numerous dalliances. It was those fools, Abbot and Bonham, dashing about Town gabbling about children taking up residence at the castle—children whose very existence were placed at your door by that pair of coxcombs.”

  The earl grimaced at the mention of his former house guests. “And now you know the truth. My character is not as black as you and the marquess suspected.”

  The dowager rose, and her grandson politely followed suit. “Facts which I must go at once and lay out for Halcomb. But Oliver, you cannot continue to dawdle with regard to paying your addresses. Lady Cora is at hand.”

  Hawksworth opened the door for his grandmother, but there was bitterness in his tone as he remarked, “You will at least allow the lady and me the opportunity to become a little acquainted before I make any irrevocable declarations.”

  “Of course.” So saying, Nora exited the drawing room. As she made her way up the grand staircase, she was worried. Oliver had never been enthusiastic about marrying, and had reluctantly agreed in the first place. But he’d sounded positively morose just now, calling his proposal an irrevocable declaration. What had seemed a simple matter to bring about some two weeks ago now suddenly appeared to be slipping away.

  The dowager made her way to the west wing, where the guests would be quartered. She must have a long talk with the marquess or all their plans might not come to pass. She could only hope that Lady Cora came prepared to win Hawksworth’s admiration.

  Emily gazed out her window at the fading light. Dressed for dinner in a simple round gown of pink satin with a short train, slashed sleeves and square-cut neckline with silver trim at the bodice and hem, she tugged the white net shawl with silver trim about her shoulders. The announcement that dinner was set back to a more fashionable hour had left her with time on her hands.

  There was no denying that she was baffled by her present mood. With the arrival of Lady Hawksworth, all her worries about the children should have flown, but instead she found herself still reluctant to leave the castle. Perhaps it was her feeling that the dowager, while glad to have her great-grandchildren home, was less than delighted about Emily’s and Delia’s presence. The lady’s attitude did not bode well for future visits to Hawk’s Lair.

  It could only be hoped that once her ladyship got to know them, she would see that they had only the best of intentions. But then, it was the earl who had true authority, and he had unbent considerably since their first night at the castle.

  With a sigh, Emily rose after deciding there was no point in worrying. She would make an effort to be pleasant to the countess and hope that the lady would have no objections to Emily and Delia’s visits to the children once they were situated in their own home nearby.

  Looking at the clock, she realized it was still another thirty minutes before they would be expected to gather in the Blue Drawing Room. Her gaze fell on the book she’d finished the night before, and she decided to return it to the library as well as make a new selection.

  Certain that everyone would be in their rooms dressing, Emily hurried through the empty halls, intent on accomplishing her errand quickly. She arrived at the library and entered, closing the door quietly. The book clutched in her hand, she started towards the stacks, then was forced to duck as great red wings flapped above her head.

  To her dismay she realized Juno was out of the new cage, as was Janus, whom she could see perched on the upper library rail peering down at her with interest.

  “Oh, Miss Collins, I’m glad ye’ve come,” Sam, the nursery footman, called from near the fireplace. Beside him the children stood, watching their pet birds enjoying a taste of freedom.

  “Why are the parrots not in their cage, Jamie?” Emily asked with alarm as she watched Juno land with a broad sweep of wings on the upper rail on the opposite side of the room from her feathered companion.

  “Nurse said we might come down and help Sam fee
d them. I was trying to show him the tricks they can do. Only they won’t come back to us when I call them.” Jamie scratched his head, puzzled at his pets’ strange behavior.

  “Whatever are we to do, Miss Collins?” Honoria asked. “Uncle will be ever so angry if we let the birds make a mess in his library as we did his kitchen.”

  Just then, as if the creature had heard, Juno swooped down low over the great oak desk sending a shower of loose papers flying to the floor. Then, with majestic ease, the red bird sailed upward and landed beside the green parrot again.

  Emily knew she must do something quickly. “How do you command them to come to you, Jamie?”

  The boy marched to the center of the room, then elevated his left arm. He gave a soft whistle, then called first one parrot’s name and then the other, but neither responded. Instead, the contrary birds began to preen and squawk as they would have done in the wild. Clearly they were quite content where they were.

  Sam moved to stand beside Emily, keeping a wary eye on the lurking great birds, fearful he might be pecked by one of the great beasts. “There be a great butterfly net in the attic, miss. Reckon that might do the trick.”

  Emily nodded. “Yes, it might. I will remain with the children if you will go and retrieve it, Sam.”

  The footman went out, but Emily paid little heed, putting her mind to the problem of recapturing the birds. Then a plan formed. “Do you think the parrots will come to me?”

  Honoria nodded. “They would come to everyone back home. I don’t understand why they are so disobedient tonight.”

  “Perhaps,” Emily said as she went to the desk, “they are still wary of their new home, my dear.” She scanned the upper level of the library. The narrow catwalk was safely railed around the entire room and there would be no danger sending the children up the spiral stairs, so she laid out her plan.

  Honoria and Jamie understood what was to be done. They hurried up the stairs, then each went in the opposite direction around the catwalk, moving towards the birds slowly. At the same time, Emily climbed up on his lordship’s desk and stood in the middle with both her gloved arms extended as Jamie had, whistling for the birds. Her position was scarcely two feet below where the parrots were perched.