The Unknown Heir

by Anne Herries

  ‘Perhaps, but nothing that need worry you. Do not imagine that I have dark secrets that will jump out and shame the family. I am even considered respectable by some.’

  ‘Nevertheless, you do have secrets you are not prepared to share,’ she said. ‘Tell me to mind my own business if you wish—but are you actually still in possession of a considerable fortune?’

  ‘Mind your own business, my very astute, adorable Miss Sheldon,’ Jared said. ‘I have told you everything I intend to tell you for the moment—and it might be dangerous for you to know more.’

  ‘Perhaps…’ Her gaze narrowed as she studied his face, his expression revealing nothing. ‘At least you did not give me a set-down, and perhaps I deserved it, for it was an impertinent question. Very well. I shall not pry into your secrets—but I hope you will tell me one day.’

  ‘I may do that,’ Jared said. ‘The duke wishes to talk to me later this morning. Do you think I could speak to Mr Roberts first? I should like to become acquainted with him, as I think he may give me some good advice.’

  ‘Yes, of course. He has his offices here in part of the house. I shall take you to him, and then I must speak to the housekeeper before I go up to Grandfather.’

  ‘How efficient you are,’ Jared said, his harsh features softening into a smile. ‘I like you so much, Cousin Hester.’

  ‘Oh…thank you,’ she said, a little taken back by his directness. ‘As it happens, I like you too, Cousin Jared.’

  ‘We must see about those dancing lessons soon,’ he murmured, the warmth in his eyes setting up a very strange fluttery sensation deep in her stomach. ‘Yes, I think it would be most pleasurable to learn to dance with you, Hester.’

  ‘Lessons that I dare say you have no need of,’ Hester said. ‘But if you wish it…one afternoon in the long gallery.’

  ‘I shall look forward to it,’ he promised with such a look that her heart caught.

  Her cheeks were warm as she avoided meeting his gaze. She had the feeling that he was flirting with her, but she tried to dismiss it as unlikely. If it were true, it must mean that he was bored and she was the only female available to him, apart from Lady Sheldon. She had noticed that he was unfailingly courteous and kind to her mother, which was one of the reasons that she had begun to like him very much. Perhaps too much for her own comfort, she thought. She must remember that Jared was intended for an heiress, and therefore a marriage between them was out of the question—even though he had teased her about it.

  He had told her they would suit, and she was becoming more and more certain in her own mind that he was perfectly right.

  After she left Jared to become acquainted with Mr Roberts, Hester went to the flower room, which was used only for the purpose of filling vases with flowers the gardeners delivered daily to the house. She spent a pleasant hour arranging various vases, and took one filled with her grandfather’s favourite tulips up to his room. She knocked and was invited to enter. The duke was holding a book and seemed to be at ease with himself, for as he laid it aside she saw that it was a volume of poetry.

  ‘How are you this morning, dearest?’

  ‘Very much better now that you are home. This house comes to life when you come back from wherever you’ve been.’

  ‘You flatter me, Grandfather. What are you after today?’ She set the vase close enough to him that he could see the beautiful blooms easily, and then bent to kiss his withered cheek. ‘Is there something I can do for you?’

  ‘Yes, you can promise me you will not marry that pompous idiot who came to see me earlier and had the audacity to tell me that he believed you would make him a good wife.’

  ‘Mr Clinton said that to you?’

  ‘Damn it, no,’ the duke said, looking wrathful. ‘I don’t say you could do better than him, Hester, but he is at least a reasonable chap—one of us, and he’ll have this place. I meant that fool who imagines he is God’s ambassador on earth.’

  Hester was bewildered. ‘Surely you cannot mean Mr Grant, Grandfather? He did not ask you if he could address me?’ She saw the truth in her grandfather’s eyes. ‘How dare he? I had no idea and I should never have permitted it.’

  The duke looked relieved. ‘Thank goodness you are a sensible girl, Hester. I know I have been unfair to you, keeping you here when you ought to have had your chance—but you’re still young enough to find a better man than Grant.’

  ‘He is a gentleman, sir.’

  ‘Well, I know that, but he’s a pompous fool. I never liked his grandfather and I cannot like him. I know nothing of his mother because I never met the woman above a few times—and he is too old for you.’

  ‘I doubt he is much beyond five and thirty.’

  ‘He talks as if he were older,’ the duke growled. ‘You won’t listen to him, Hester? I couldn’t stand having him here and I do not wish to lose you just yet. You’ll have plenty of time when I’m gone.’

  ‘Please do not speak of leaving us,’ Hester begged. ‘I love you and I do not wish to lose you. Besides, Mr Grant would not suit me.’

  Her grandfather smiled, reassured. ‘Well, how is he shaping up then—the American heir? I rather like the cut of his jib. Blunt and to the point at times, but he’s like her, Hester—he’s like my Amelia.’

  ‘Yes, I have seen her portrait, and I agree.’

  ‘I meant in nature. She was quick to fire up and we quarrelled too often, but I loved her—and, damn it, I think she loved me.’

  ‘I am sure she did,’ Hester said. ‘I think her son is more than you might have expected, sir.’

  ‘Bit of a dark horse, is he?’ The duke nodded, looking pleased. ‘Just what I thought myself. Did you know he is going to invite a builder to look at the fire damage? He said we need to get estimates before we set the work in hand—does that sound like a gambler to you, Hester?’

  ‘No, it does not,’ she said. ‘I asked him if he truly had a gambling house in New Orleans and he said he did. Not that rundown place by the waterfront that Mr Birch told us of, but something better.’

  ‘Playing a deep game, ain’t he?’

  ‘Yes, I think so.’

  The duke’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘You’ll get it out of him if anyone can. I think he likes you, Hester. He would be mad not to—but it’s the way he speaks of you. He respects you.’

  ‘I am glad to hear it, sir, but I do not think he will tell any of us anything until he is ready.’

  ‘Do you think he still has some money?’

  ‘Yes, a certain amount—I do not know whether it could be called a fortune.’

  ‘Has our luck changed?’ the duke said. He frowned at her. ‘I’ve wondered at times if the curse really was hanging over us, Hester—but this man…he could be the saving of this family if he chose.’

  ‘Yes, I think you may be right,’ Hester agreed. ‘But will he choose to stay? I am not sure that we can hold him. I think the title means little to him, and at the moment he sees the house only as something that needs money spent on it. He doesn’t love it as we do.’

  ‘Give him time, girl,’ the duke said. ‘Something brought him here. He didn’t have to come, and we can’t keep him unless he wants to stay—so we have to hope that he comes to understand what being a part of a family like this really means.’

  ‘I think he came because of his mother,’ Hester said. ‘He wanted to see her childhood home…and you.’

  ‘He blamed me for making her unhappy. I dare say it was my fault if she was. I wished I could change it when she died, Hester—but it was too late.’

  ‘I think he will come to understand that in time,’ Hester said, looking thoughtful. ‘We must hope that he likes us as a family…likes us enough to stay.’

  ‘He likes you,’ the duke said. ‘As for the rest of us…’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Well, we shall just have to wait and see.’

  Jared had found his way back to the library. He knew that many of the answers he sought had to be here in this room, the room his mother had liked
to escape to at times. It was a long room, covered on three walls by beautiful mahogany bookcases, which were filled with leather-bound books. A cursory investigation had shown him that some of them related to the family history and were in the form of heavy family bibles or journals. Mr Roberts had informed him that the family had always recorded births and marriages in their bibles, but anything else would be found in the various journals.

  Mr Roberts had told him a lot about the state of the family fortune, which was perhaps worse than he had imagined. Without help, the duke would soon have to sell either land or family treasures. Jared glanced around at the various pieces of porcelain that adorned small tables and stood on the deep windowsills. His practised eye knew the worth of all of them as he was a connoisseur of fine things, and had imported them into New Orleans to satisfy the tastes of its wealthy citizens for some years. Many of the items in his own suite at the hotel he owned there contained the finest pieces, often taken from the homes of aristocratic families forced to sell.

  It would be humiliating for Hester if her beloved grandfather were made to sell things that had been in the family for centuries. He couldn’t let that happen to her. He had come to England prepared to dislike his mother’s family, to tell them exactly what he thought of them, and what they could do with their titles and their pride. He had held back because of a spirited young woman…and, yes, because of something he had seen in an old man’s eyes.

  Jared gave a harsh laugh. Red would say he had gone soft; he would say that he was letting himself be used by people who didn’t deserve his help—and perhaps he would be right. The duke certainly hadn’t behaved as he should towards his daughter, but he seemed genuinely to have regretted it. Besides, Jared had discovered that there would be no pleasure for him in venting his spite on these people.

  To him the house was old, attractive in its way, but not as comfortable as some he owned. It had history, and in this room he could feel himself being seduced by it, knew that if he gave in he could easily be sucked into the world that was his by birthright…but was he prepared to go that far?

  He had everything he wanted elsewhere. A life that suited him, wealth, friends, his empire of property and commerce that he enjoyed—and the freedom to come and go as he pleased. If he became Viscount Sheldon and in time the Duke of Shelbourne, he would lose that freedom. His brief talk with Roberts had shown him that, once accepted, it was a burden he could not put down. An estate like this wasn’t just land and an old house that might be beautiful if he cared to spend a small fortune on it—it was people too.

  Roberts had told him about cottages that needed repair, children who had no school to go to and men who would be thrown out of work if the estate were split up and sold. He frowned, because he knew he could not simply toss all that to one side. As the heir he owed it to the people who depended on his family to at least see if their lives could be made better.

  But if he did that, would he be able to cut free? Did he want to if he could?

  ‘Ah, my very dear Hester,’ Mr Grant said as she came down from visiting the duke. ‘I was just admiring the flowers and Lady Sheldon told me it was one of your duties. How talented you are, to be sure.’

  Hester held her temper and her tongue. ‘You are very kind to say so, sir,’ she said, leading the way into one of the small rooms that led off to the right and were connected. Each of them had a pair of beautiful doors, which had been magnificent in their day, though the gilding had chipped in places and was looking decidedly sad. The room itself was furnished elegantly, though the upholstery had faded slightly and the curtains at the windows had seen better days. Hester had not always noticed it, but there was an air of neglect about some of the rooms that were used for family purposes.

  She wished that she might be alone, for she had letters to write. The duke had asked her if she would send out invitations for the ball, which he wanted to hold in two weeks’ time. She sat down at the desk near the window and took out a small pile of notepaper that carried the Shelbourne crest.

  ‘Am I disturbing you?’ Mr Grant asked as he chose a chair nearby and sat down, his gaze fixed on her. ‘You are such a competent female, Hester. I have observed how you manage everything here to perfection, and I am persuaded that you will make some fortunate gentleman an excellent wife.’

  The complacent look on his face told her that he was imagining himself in the role of that gentleman and believed his proposal must meet with success. She wished that the duke had forbidden him to speak to her, but unfortunately he had not done so, though he had begged her not to listen.

  ‘You are welcome to stay if you wish, sir, but I have a pile of invitations to write. The duke is giving a ball in two weeks and there is no time to lose.’

  ‘Perhaps I may be of assistance to you? I could seal the letters as you write.’

  ‘Thank you for the offer, but I prefer to do them myself. Perhaps you might like to read a book or something?’

  ‘I am disturbing you. Forgive me.’ He got to his feet. ‘I shall leave you in peace, Hester. It might be best if I had a little talk with the viscount.’

  ‘Yes, please do so if you wish,’ Hester replied, dipping her pen in the ink. She bent her head over the first invitation, mentally apologising to Jared for landing him with his pompous relative. Becoming aware that Mr Grant was still hovering, she looked up. ‘Was there something more?’

  ‘I wish to speak to you in private about something…personal…but I can see this is not a good moment…’

  ‘No, sir, it is not,’ Hester told him firmly. ‘I really must get on—perhaps another day?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Another time.’

  She was aware of the slightly offended tone of his voice. It was obvious that he meant to speak despite being discouraged by the duke.

  ‘I couldn’t forbid him, Hester,’ her grandfather had told her. ‘But I told him that I did not think you wished to hear a proposal of marriage from anyone.’

  ‘I wish you had forbidden him,’ Hester had replied. ‘But I understand that you could not. I shall try to dissuade him from speaking at all, but if he does…I must refuse him.’

  The duke had been pleased with her answer, but that did not stop her feeling apprehensive about the interview with Mr Grant. She could not imagine why he had decided that she would suit him—they hardly knew one another and she had done nothing to encourage a proposal of marriage. Giving her head a little shake, she bent her head to her work once more. The duke’s list of guests was rather long, and though she suspected some of them might be unable to attend, she must follow his wishes and invite all of his old friends. Her mother had added a few names to the list, and Hester herself had added the names of some young ladies she happened to know. If everyone accepted, they would have almost a hundred guests and at least thirty of them would be invited to stay for a day or two.

  It would make a lot of work for the servants, and would probably mean getting extra help in from the village, so the sooner she sent out the invitations the better.

  Chapter Six

  ‘I have been looking for you everywhere,’ Mr Grant said in an accusing tone as he saw Jared enter the hall that afternoon. ‘No one told me that you had gone out.’

  ‘I was not aware that I had to leave word of my intentions for you, sir,’ Jared replied. He had just accompanied Mr Roberts on a brief tour of the estate and was feeling grim about the prospects for its people unless something was done swiftly to stop the rot. ‘I believe it is time for that quaint English custom of taking tea? We had best not keep Miss Sheldon waiting—but if you wish, I can spare you a few minutes afterwards.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ Mr Grant looked as if he could not quite believe his ears. ‘Are you aware of the position I hold in this family, sir?’

  ‘I suppose you’re the one who gets this place if I have a fatal accident and die—after the old man is finished, of course.’ Jared deliberately slipped into his practised twang.

  Mr Grant stared at him in horror.
‘I find that deeply offensive, sir. I am the grandson of the duke’s brother and as such I am entitled to respect from you.’

  ‘If you want respect from me, you have to earn it,’ Jared said, not a trace of the twang in his clipped tones now; his gaze was steady, cold, giving nothing. ‘I have just come from looking at cottages not fit for beasts to live in—women with young children having to cope with a leaking roof and walls so damp you can see the mould. Tell me what you were planning to do about this before I came along and you may have something worth saying.’

  ‘I do not understand you, sir. What has the condition of these cottages to do with me? Naturally, I deplore the situation, but it is quite common amongst the poor.’

  ‘Then as a potential heir you should be ashamed of yourself,’ Jared said, clearly angry. ‘I don’t hold with slavery; its abolition cannot come soon enough for me, but I know people who would be ashamed to let their slaves live in conditions as desperate as those I’ve seen today.’

  ‘I know nothing about these things…’ Mr Grant stuttered, stunned by this uncalled-for attack. ‘In my parish I do what I can to alleviate the plight of the poor.’

  ‘Excuse me, I need to speak to Miss Sheldon.’

  Jared walked off, leaving his offended relative to stare after him in dismay. He headed for the larger salon at the back of the house, expecting that he would find Hester and her mother about to take tea. He knew that he should not have lost his temper, but he was disgusted by what he had been shown that afternoon. What right had this family to gamble away a fortune when the people they should care for were forced to live in conditions he would not tolerate for his horses? As he entered the large parlour, he saw that Hester was alone. A large silver tray had been brought in and there was a stand with an array of tiny cakes, biscuits and scones. The comfortable scene made him even more aware of the poverty he had just witnessed and the anger welled up in him.

  ‘Miss Sheldon?’