The Earl and His Lady_A Regency Romance

by Sally Britton

  “Sounds nefarious,” Lucas murmured. “Though I could certainly believe it. Rank and wealth is everything to some.” He looked away from Christine Gilbert’s concerned eyes and to the house, realizing they were nearly there. “What does being here accomplish for the baroness?”

  “Her brother-in-law doesn’t know where she is, for one thing,” Gilbert said.

  “Is he dangerous?” Lucas asked. “Does she need protection?” No woman of genteel birth ought to have to hide away in fear.

  “Virginia’s barrister friend thinks there is danger in him knowing her location,” Gilbert explained with a lift of his shoulders. “He also believes keeping her far away from Bath, and the county’s courts, will delay a decision against her while he tries other avenues of argument. But the court is leaning on Macon’s side.”

  “Which is why I think you might be able to help,” Christine put in at last, stopping them before they entered the conservatory’s door to the house. “The barrister believes if she had the protection of a peer the courts would be less likely to act against her. She needs someone of influence as an ally.”

  “Of course. Would she accept my help?” he asked. “Is there no one else to whom she can turn?” He released her arm and folded his, looking between the couple. Lucas liked them both immensely; he counted them as his friends, though they might be surprised his regard was that personal.

  Thomas Gilbert moved to put his arm around his wife’s shoulders, looking like a man ready to do battle, so grim was his expression. The woman met his eyes briefly and then folded her hands before her in the demurest posture Lucas had ever seen her take on.

  “My lord, it is not that easy. She’s been told she needs the personal protection of a male relative. Her brother has no interest in coming to her aid and she has no other close connections. The only other suggestion her barrister has shared is that she might find the protection she needs with a husband.”

  Lucas stared at her, uncomprehending for a moment. His mind sorted through all the information given and came to its conclusion on the matter. Then, his honor rising to meet the challenge presented, he said, “I need to marry her.”

  His heart sped up at the thought, though from fear or excitement he couldn’t say. Abigail had been gone for years, but he’d only begun thinking on the possibility of remarriage in the months since his younger brother found a wife. Accustomed to saving people, the idea of offering the protection of his name did not immediately repel him. If anything, the idea intrigued him. Could he do it? Could he marry a stranger, albeit a very beautiful stranger, to save her and her children from the cruelty of another? It would bear some thought, but why not?

  The reactions of the two people before him did not match the emotion of his declaration, as they both went pale. Gilbert’s jaw dropped open as though its hinges had fallen off. Mrs. Gilbert’s eyes grew large and she covered her mouth with a hand.

  “Oh no,” she said through her fingers, stepping forward and making an odd, flapping motion with her hands. “No, that isn’t what I meant at all. I only thought, with you being the right age, and knowing people, you might know someone who would be willing. I didn’t mean to imply that you—”

  “Please, Calvert,” Thomas said, reaching out to take one of his wife’s hands. “That isn’t what we want. We would never expect it of you. If you knew someone who could be persuaded, or even a court where the opinion might be different—”

  Lucas stepped back and regarded them with a critical eye. “Neither of you thought to suggest I should marry the lady?”

  “No—”

  “Not really—”

  He raised one eyebrow at that and smirked at the blushing woman. “Not really?”

  “It occurred to me briefly, but I didn’t think to suggest it,” she admitted, then bit her lower lip and looked up at her frowning husband. “I think you were right, Tom. I shouldn’t have said anything on the matter.” She turned penitent eyes on Lucas. “Can we please forget all of it?”

  Thomas groaned and raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose again. “Yes. Please, Calvert. Forget the whole mess.” He took Christine’s arm. “And join us for tea.”

  Lucas tried not to smile, but his amusement over the situation could hardly be helped. It was not all together a rare thing, to be approached by others who wished to use his influence in one matter or another, but this was most definitely the most absurd and ill-conceived attempt to win his support on a matter.

  “Tea would be appreciated. Thank you.”

  They led the way inside, Christine still blushing and Thomas’s expression pinched enough that Lucas felt sure the man had a sudden headache. Though tempted to laugh, he shook his head and followed, his mind already at work on the baroness’s plight.

  Chapter Three

  Virginia and the elder Mrs. Gilbert, Thomas’s mother, were putting the finishing touches on the tea table in front of the sofa when the door to the parlor opened. Christine and Thomas entered, arm in arm, with the strangest expressions on their faces. Virginia stood slowly, a question rising on her lips to ask what ailed them, when the earl walked in behind them.

  She stilled, watching him with interest. His expression looked less ill and more amused than her cousins’. Looking from the couple to the earl, she could not imagine what would set all three of them in such strange humors, but decided it would be best to ignore it.

  Mrs. Gilbert curtsied. “Oh, Lord Calvert, it is wonderful to see you again. I only just learned you had returned from London.”

  He bowed to her, lower than necessary, his respectful behavior setting Virginia more at ease. “Mrs. Gilbert, it is good to see you again. I hope you do not mind my intrusion.”

  “Not at all. You are always welcome in this home.” She gestured to the chair he had used a half an hour before, when he’d sat awkwardly with Virginia for less than five minutes.

  “Thank you.” After the ladies sat, the gentlemen followed suit. Mrs. Gilbert poured out for each of them. “How is your garden this spring, Mrs. Gilbert?” he asked after receiving his cup.

  Virginia watched as the matron’s expression went from politely pleasant to pure joy. Those who knew her well knew that Mrs. Gilbert adored her flower beds and orangery more than anything. Virginia thought only Christine’s love of horses came close to Mrs. Gilbert’s dedication to her beautiful blooms and soil beds, yet it had taken her nearly a month of being in the home to discover how deep the attachment went.

  “It is positively the envy of the neighborhood,” the woman answered proudly. “My roses are already bursting out everywhere, like fireworks. Now that I know you are home, I will send some to you.”

  “The big yellow blossoms, if they are ready,” he said. “My mother always had them in our entry and it wouldn’t be right to go without them.”

  The older woman’s cheeks pinked and she nodded her agreement. “Yes, Pamela did always like those. I made a present of a cutting for her once, but she claimed hers never blossomed as mine did. I cannot think why.”

  “Because she did not pour half so much care into them,” the earl answered. “My mother’s great love is being a hostess, not a horticulturist.”

  “And she excels at that,” Mrs. Gilbert answered. “Her parties are talked of, before and after, as the highlight of everyone’s year. How is Lady Pamela?”

  Virginia listened politely as she drank her tea, noting her cousin and Thomas had collected themselves and both were intent on their teacups and sandwiches. She turned her attention back to the earl, who was speaking of his family in warm tones.

  She really had not expected him to be so young. The way Thomas and Christine spoke of him, with such gratitude and admiration, she had pictured someone older, with gray in his hair. But Lord Calvert, Earl of Annesbury, didn’t have any silver to be seen. His hair was more like burnished gold, cut close in the Roman style. He held himself well and she imagined he would fit with the Corinthian set if he were just a few years younger. The first thing that struck
her, when he entered the parlor earlier, was his height. She thought he must be of a height with her late husband, though with wider shoulders.

  There was no other comparison to make between the two. Where her Charles had been dark, Lord Calvert was fair. His eyes were blue-gray, and his bearing full of confidence. He was a man who knew his worth to society and wore his consequence with ease. Did anything ever unsettle him? She couldn’t think so.

  He caught her looking and she resisted the desire to look away. Instead, Virginia smiled and tried to remember what they had been talking about. But he spoke first.

  “Lady Heatherton, I had the good fortune to meet your sons. They look to be very bright lads. What are their ages?”

  “Phillip is six,” she answered, surprised he would bother to ask. “And Edward is halfway to five. They are wonderfully bright, I think, though I have a bias as their mother.”

  “Nonsense,” Thomas said from the sofa where he and Christine sat, holding hands. “I cannot think I was half so clever. Phillip has a good head on his shoulders. He was telling me about the life cycle of the frogs in my fishing pond.”

  Virginia’s heart swelled and she smiled at him. “Thank you for taking him fishing yesterday. He talked of nothing else last night or this morning, until the horses were brought up.”

  “Fishing cannot hold a candle to riding,” Christine interjected with a lofty air and everyone in the room laughed.

  Virginia attempted to keep her attention in the present moment, but her mind continually turned to the letter from Mr. Olivier. She lost the thread of the conversation, staring out the window without seeing the lush gardens humming full of bees.

  “—wouldn’t you say, Lady Heatherton?” Christine’s voice asked.

  “I beg your pardon?” Virginia turned to find all in the room with eyes upon her, including Lord Calvert’s. “I am terribly sorry. I’m very dull company today. My thoughts are elsewhere.”

  Mrs. Gilbert reached out and put her hand on Virginia’s arm, giving her a sympathetic pat. “You are perfect company, my dear. Christine appealed to your taste for riding upon horses or in boats.”

  Grateful for the understanding, Virginia allowed herself to smile and answer the question. “I am afraid I much prefer a rowboat on a pond to a side-saddle.”

  “But would you do the rowing?” the earl asked.

  Virginia turned to Lord Calvert, her brows drawing together. What sort of a question was that to put to a lady? She started to answer in the negative, but then considered again her situation. She had no gentleman to row her upon a pond, as her husband had done in the summers before his illness overtook him. Soon enough, she would have only herself to rely on. She could not depend upon the hospitality of the Gilbert family forever.

  “I would.” She met his blue-gray gaze steadily. “I have always loved being on the water. If the only way to achieve that is to take up an oar, I will certainly do so.”

  The earl regarded her with a contemplative expression. “Should you and your sons wish it, my property is nearby and we have a substantial lake for rowing, fishing, and the study of frogs.”

  Was he teasing her, or extending a true invitation? Whatever the case, Virginia responded appropriately.

  “Thank you, my lord. That is kind of you.”

  The door to the parlor opened with a crash and little Edward came flying across the room. “I didn’t do it, Mama! I didn’t.” He launched himself from the carpet into her arms and not a moment later Phillip came storming into the room as well.

  “Mother, Edward broke my horse.” Phillip brandished a three-legged wooden horse, gifted to him from Christine. He had hardly let the toy out of his sight since receiving it.

  “Oh, darling.” Virginia, her arms around Edward, looked from her elder son to the other adults in the room. “Please, forgive us for the disruption.”

  “Nonsense,” Mrs. Gilbert said, her warm brown eyes softening in a distinctly maternal way. “Tend to your children, my dear.”

  Virginia nodded and stood, keeping one arm about Edward’s back and gesturing for Phillip to precede her from the room. This event showed every indication the boys would either dissolve into tears or an endless round of argument, and she had no wish to share that display with the other adults. She briefly met Christine’s eyes as she walked out, the other woman gave her a commiserating smile. Virginia’s gaze passed over the earl, whom she realized was watching the scene with at least mild interest.

  Phillip contained his ire long enough for them to reach the hall. He rounded on Edward the moment the door to the parlor was closed. “I told him not to play with it,” he half-shouted, half-sobbed. “He wasn’t supposed to touch it, but he kept sneaking it away.”

  Edward buried his face in Virginia’s skirts at her hip, shaking his head in denial. “I didn’t, Mama! I was only looking—”

  “Looking doesn’t break things—”

  “I hardly touched it—”

  Had they been smaller, Virginia would’ve whisked them both into her arms and to another room. As it was, she was trapped in the hall with them until the matter was sorted out.

  “Boys, enough.” Her voice was firm but her tone low. “Phillip, hand me your horse.” She reached out and Phillip put the wooden figure in her hand. The finely crafted toy was missing a foreleg, but the wood was cleanly broke, not splintered. “Have you the leg?”

  “I cannot find it,” Phillip said, his anger giving way to a more mournful tone. “I looked and looked. The horse was on the floor, by our bureau.”

  Virginia crouched down, her hand on Edward’s shoulder. “Edward, do you know where the leg is?”

  The four-year old’s lip stuck out and his eyes swam with tears. He met Virginia’s eyes and she saw the hesitation in them, sensed his temptation.

  “Darling, tell me the truth. Do you know where the leg for the horse has gone?”

  His brown eyes darted briefly toward his brother, then came back to hers. He reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a piece of wood.

  “I didn’t mean for it to happen. It was an accident.” He held the tiny foreleg, painted white, out to his mother.

  “See,” Phillip yelled, and Virginia looked to see his hands balled into fists at his side. “I knew he did it. He broke it and now it’s ruined.” Angry tears leaked from his eyes.

  “Edward, what happened? How did it break?” A heavy weight settled deeper in her chest. At moments like these, she missed Charles. While the argument between children was not dire, it helped to have another parent to balance out the mood, to assist in settling disputes and restoring good humor.

  “I was looking at it.” Edward trembled and stared at the rug. “Then Nurse Smythe called. I had to get a clean han’kerchief from the drawer. When I closed the drawer, Phil’s horse fell. I didn’t mean for it to happen.” His gasped on the last word and raised his hands to cover his face.

  Virginia’s heart squeezed tight. “The horse must’ve been near the edge of the bureau.” She looked at Phillip, standing like an avenging angel ready to mete out justice. “Phillip, I think the horse’s balance must’ve been upset when Edward closed the drawer. It sounds like an accident.”

  “He wasn’t careful and it broke,” Phillip said, his eyes flashing. “It’s broke and it cannot be mended.”

  “But darling, he—” Virginia was interrupted by a voice from behind.

  “Perhaps it can be mended.”

  She rose and turned, her cheeks turning warm. Had they been loud enough for the others in the parlor to hear every word of the childhood tragedy unfolding? Standing outside the closed door was the Earl of Annesbury. He took two long strides and bent his tall frame in a polite bow.

  “May I, Lady Heatherton?” He put a reached out.

  Virginia looked from his hand to Phillip, whose anger had faded to a dull upset, and then to Edward, who looked curious.

  “I would not wish to trouble you.” She held the horse out with one hand and the foreleg wit
h the other. He took the horse and his fingers grazed her palm when he took the broken appendage.

  “No trouble.” He gave her the barest of smiles, though an amused light twinkled in his eyes. “I have a younger brother and the two of us were forever repairing our damaged toys.” He turned the leg over in his hand, then the toy horse, and shook his head. “Ah, I see the problem. Phillip, let me compliment you on the fine horse and assure you that it can be mended.”

  Phillip took a step forward, his eyebrows lifting. “It can? How?”

  “We will need a very special pot of glue I keep at my house. As you can see, the break of the horse’s leg is a clean one.” He bent and held the broken toy for both boys to see, Edward creeping closer.

  “You can fix it?” Edward asked, his voice a near whisper. “Really?”

  Virginia’s heart lifted and she looked from one hopeful boy to the other.

  “I can provide the glue,” the earl answered. “But as you can see, this toy is small. My hands are too large to do the necessarily delicate work. I think, if you are willing to help, the two of you can have it mended in no time. What do you think, Lady Heatherton?”

  Frankly, she thought him a positive genius for suggesting such a thing. “That is a very sound plan. If you are willing to provide the glue. What do you say, Phillip? Edward?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “We can mend it.”

  “Excellent.” The earl stood and held the horse and leg out to Phillip. “I can bring the glue back with me tomorrow morning. You need to keep the horse safe until then.”

  Phillip nodded and turned to his brother. “Come on, Ed. Let’s find a safe place to keep it in the nursery.”

  Virginia watched Edward’s expression change to one of absolute joy. His brother had forgiven him, and since she knew Edward’s world revolved around Phillip at times, a sense of relief filled her.