by Laura Landon
“How will she hear?” Ben asked. “She’s—”
His father turned from the window and faced him. “She’s not there any longer.”
“What do you mean, she’s not there? You sent guards to make sure she couldn’t leave.”
“Somehow she managed to escape them. She paid one of the servants to dress in her clothes. The guards aren’t sure how long it had been before they realized the person pretending to be her was an imposter.”
Ben’s blood turned to ice. “Where is she?”
The duke stepped away from the window and sank into the chair. Ben had never seen his father look so defeated. “She could be standing outside watching the house for all I know.”
Ben raked his fingers through his hair. “What are we going to do?”
“I’ve got men searching for her. But who knows how long it will take to find her. Or what damage she can do before we do.”
His father took a sip of the liquor in his glass. “Winnie knows what her mother did,” he said softly.
Ben nodded. “I know. She told me she overheard a conversation between you and Gideon.”
His father dropped his head to his hands. When he faced Ben again, his features were more drawn. “I wanted to protect them,” he said. “I hoped they’d never find out what their mother did, but I know now that was impossible.”
“What about Anne?” Ben asked.
His father shook his head. “I can’t tell her. She’s too young. She doesn’t have the maturity Winnie has. I’m afraid how it might affect her.”
“She’ll have to know sometime,” Ben argued. “You can’t protect her forever.”
“I know I can’t. But I have to keep this from her for at least a little longer. She has her birthday in a month. After that.”
Ben wanted to argue with his father. He wasn’t sure how the news would be more bearable in a month. And there was so much that could happen in that length of time. And the possibilities weren’t good.
“I want you to talk to Anne for me,” his father continued. “Winnie came to me because she thinks her mother is corresponding with Anne, and that Anne is returning her missives. It’s even possible she’s sending her money. I think that’s how she was able to escape.”
“Bloody hell. I should have known.”
“What do you mean?” his father asked.
“Winnie told me when she was here that she’d heard from Mother. I told her not to answer her. To forget all about her. I should have known Mother would contact Anne next.”
“Anne’s got a tender a heart, and Ernesta knows it. She’ll work her to her advantage, and Anne will do anything to help her mother. I need you to talk to her.”
“And what do you want me to say to her?”
“Tell her that it’s possible that her mother might try to contact her to ask for help to come back. Explain to her that her mother is terribly sick and that she needs to stay where she is until she’s well.”
Ben raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. “She won’t listen, Father. She doesn’t understand how sick Mother truly is. Nor does she understand it’s her mind that is sick and not her body.”
“I know.” The Duke of Townsend’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “But we can’t let her encourage her mother to come back. Nor can we allow Anne to send her the money to travel.”
A knot formed in Ben’s stomach. He’d never seen his father look less regal, less imposing. More frightened.
“Even though Winnie knows what her mother did, it’s changed her. We’re talking about your mother, Benjamin. We’re talking about Winnifred and Anne’s mother. No matter what she’s done, she’s still your mother, and regardless of how you may hate what she’s done, I can’t expect you to hate the woman. Winnifred is having a difficult time dealing with that.”
His father lifted his gaze. “I doubt that Anne could come close to dealing with that. And how can I blame any of you. Even I am having difficulties.”
The space between them was heavy with sorrow and regret. Ben searched for anything that might ease his father’s pain. “I’ll talk to Anne, Father. I’ll find out if she knows where mother is, and I’ll make sure she doesn’t contact her again.”
“Thank you, Ben.” The Duke of Townsend’s shoulders lifted and he resumed his stately bearing. “Now, what’s this news you’re adjusting to? Surely you can’t think your wife is increasing already?”
Ben rose and walked across the room. He opened the door and told Henley to inform her ladyship that His Grace was here, and to ask her to bring Claire down.
“Of course there’s a possibility,” Ben answered, “but it’s too soon to know for sure. This is something different.” Ben walked to the table where the decanters were and brought over the brandy bottle. “You might want a little more for this, Father,” he said, then poured another inch of brandy in his father’s glass.
“You’re not easing my mind, son,” he said.
Ben didn’t have a response to say to his father, but he didn’t need one. The door opened and Rachael stood inside the room with Claire in her arms.
The Duke of Townsend looked at Rachael, then at the babe in her arms. With an angry glare he turned back to Ben. “When did you discover you had a child?” he demanded. “And who is its mother?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Rachael was glad to be leaving London. She was anxious to see the place that would be their home. She was glad they were going to the country, where she could enjoy the solitude and the peacefulness. But most of all, she looked forward to making their house into a home. A pace where she and Ben could spend time together, without Society’s prying eyes trying to determine if their marriage would last.
She looked at the man she’d married and couldn’t believe her eyes. He was everything she’d ever dreamed of when she thought about marriage. And it wasn’t only his looks. It was his concern for her welfare, and of Claire’s. His acceptance of the babe, especially when people like his father accused him of being Claire’s father. But most of all, it was how comfortable she felt in his presence. How cherished.
She couldn’t stop herself. She reached over and twined her finger in his.
He looked at her and smiled, then clasped her hand to his and held it. They sat in silence until their carriage slowed, then turned into a long lane lined with beechnut trees. The trees were old and stately, and laden with dark green leaves.
The sight in every direction she could see was magnificent. A bubble of happiness wrapped around her heart. Rachael tore her gaze from the window and looked at her husband. The expression on his face was impossible to read.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“It’s amazing. Beautiful.”
“Keep watching,” he ordered. “You’ll see the house soon.”
Rachael leaned to look out the window again. The horses trotted along at a slow pace now and followed the curving drive.
At first the only sight within view was the corner of the stone mansion. One of the wings. Tall, mullioned windows reached from ground level to what must be the second level. She’d never imagined anything so magnificent.
“Oh, Benjamin,” she sighed as more of the house came into view. “Oh…”
She turned her gaze back to look out the window as the carriage stopped in front of the entrance.
Ben exited first and turned to help her to the ground. Rachael couldn’t do anything but stand on shaky legs and stare at the impressive structure in front of her. “It’s magnificent,” she whispered.
The door to their home was wide open in welcome, and a host of servants stood at attention on either side of two curved steps. Four massive vine-covered columns supported a roof suspended over the granite portico. A matching wing balanced the home on the opposite side.
“Oh, Benjamin,” she sighed again. “It’s beautiful.”
She lifted her head and found him looking down on her with a broad smile on his face. “I knew you’d like it.”
“What is
there not to like?” She turned her gaze to the right and to the left. Perfectly manicured lawns stretched out on both sides of the house, along with a magnificent parterre garden with perfectly tended flowers and sculptured bushes.
“There are two more gardens in the back,” he whispered, then placed his hand at the small of her back and ushered her forward. “But first I want you to meet your staff.”
Rachael walked at Ben’s side while he introduced her to the butler, a tall, efficient-looking man in his mid-forties, with perfectly groomed dark brown hair, and a long pointed nose. His name was Bennett, and Rachael thought at first she might be a little intimidated by him, until he looked at her and she noticed a twinkle in his dark brown eyes. She smiled and he gave her a welcoming nod along with his smile. Rachael felt instantly at ease.
Bennett walked along the line of servants, introducing her to Mrs. Welch, the housekeeper, then Mrs. Grady, the cook, and scores of other maids and servants whose names she couldn’t remember, but would strive to learn soon.
When the introductions were finished, Ben led her up the two steps, across the portico, through the front entrance, and into a spacious foyer that was large enough for a small army to gather comfortably. Tears spilled from her eyes as she turned in a circle and took in the grandeur of her new home.
Ben’s arm wrapped around her waist and he gathered her to him. “I take it you’re pleased with your home.”
“I’m very pleased. Inordinately pleased. Thank you.”
He gave her a slight bow, then turned back to where Bennett stood. “Has the carriage with my wife’s maid and our daughter arrived?”
Rachael’s heart shifted inside her breast. Our daughter. He’d said our daughter. She reached for Ben’s hand and twined her fingers with his.
“Yes, my lord,” Bennett answered. “They arrived earlier. The maid took the lass to her room. His Grace has sent Mrs. Coffee over from Townsend Manor to help with the babe.”
“Mrs. Coffee?”
“Yes, my lord. He thought you and her ladyship would feel more comfortable with your old nurse to help care for the babe.”
A smile brightened Ben’s face. “Yes, of course.” He turned toward her. “Father sent my nurse to help with Claire. She couldn’t be in better hands.”
“I’ve also taken the liberty of having one of the upstairs maids, Mary, help with the babe,” Bennett added
“Thank you, Bennett,” Rachael said past the lump in her throat.
“Would you like to see the house now, my lady,” Bennett asked, “or do you prefer to wait until tomorrow when the light is better?”
“Tomorrow, Bennett,” Ben answered for her. “I’m sure her ladyship would like to get settled and check on the babe first.”
“Yes,” Rachael answered.
“And what about dinner, my lady?”
“Would it be possible to have a tray sent to our rooms later?” Rachael asked.
“Of course, my lady.”
Rachael smiled at the butler. “Thank you. That will be perfect.” She lifted her gaze and met Ben’s smiling eyes. “Now,” she said, forcing herself to break contact with the desire she saw in her husband’s eyes, “if you’ll direct us to our rooms.”
“Of course, my lady.”
Rachael and Ben followed their butler up the stairs. First they checked on Milly and Claire, and Ben introduced her to Mrs. Coffee—Rachael loved Ben’s nurse the minute she saw her with Claire—then she and Ben went to their room.
They didn’t have separate rooms like most married couples were rumored to have, but would sleep in the same room. In the same bed.
When Bennett left them, Ben closed the door. “Are you happy?” he said when he’d taken her in his arms.
“I’ve never been happier,” she whispered, then tilted her head to receive his kiss.
“Mmm…” he murmured against her mouth. “I think I know a way to make you even happier.” Ben lifted her into his arms and placed her on the bed. And he did exactly what he said he would do. He made her happier than she thought it was possible to be.
Their lovemaking was exquisite in every way. When they were both sated, Rachael lay with her head tucked beneath Ben’s chin and listened to the steady beating of his heart.
They talked as they often did after they’d made love, and eventually, Ben’s breathing slowed and she knew he’d fallen asleep.
Rachael lay with her arm around his waist and stayed as close to him as she could. She doubted she could be happier than she was at this moment.
If only Mrs. Coffee hadn’t made the same assumption that Ben’s father had made—that Claire was Ben’s instead of hers.
. . .
During the next two weeks, Rachael toured the house with Mrs. Welch, the housekeeper. The more she saw of her house, the more she fell in love with it. The rooms were bright and cheerful, as well as spacious enough for their growing family.
Rachael was certain she was increasing. She hadn’t told Ben yet, but there was little doubt. She’d been ill the last few mornings, a telling sign. It had been the same with Claire.
Rachael stayed in her room until she was certain she was well enough to make an appearance. She wasn’t hungry, and the thought of eating breakfast wasn’t at all appealing, but she wasn’t about to give up spending time with her husband each morning.
She finished dressing, then descended the stairs and walked to the smaller of Meadowmont’s two dining rooms. Ben rose when she entered.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
She smiled. “Fine, thank you.”
“You don’t look as if you’re fine. You’re pale, and you look as if you’ve been ill again this morning. Was it the same when you were carrying Claire?”
Rachael smiled on her way to her chair. “I was going to surprise you with the news,” she said tipping back her head to look at him. “But I see there’s nothing I can keep from you.”
“Nothing, Rachael.” He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not delighted.”
The smile on his face told her just how delighted he was. She could drown in smiles that endearing. “I hoped you would be,” she said.
“I am. And Father will be, too, when we tell him.”
Rachael poured herself a cup of tea, then slowly sipped her first swallow. She was relieved when the liquid warmed her insides and decided to stay down.
“Would you like something to eat?” he asked.
“Perhaps some toast. I don’t want to push my luck.”
Ben went to the sideboard and brought her back a slice of toast. He sat in his place at the table and watched as she took her first bite. She smiled when the toast went down and settled there.
“What would you think of having callers this afternoon?” he said when she took a second bite of her toast.
“Callers?”
“Yes, my sisters.” He held up a note he’d received. “They implied that they’ve given us ample time to get settled. They’ve heard about Claire and are anxious to meet her.”
Rachael was delighted. “I’d love it. Please, send word for them to come this afternoon. Will Lady Eve and the twins come with them?”
Eve was Ben’s older brother’s wife, and Rachael looked forward to becoming friends with her. The fact that their twin sons were approximately the same age as Claire was wonderful.
Ben shook his head. “One of the twins has the sniffles and Eve doesn’t want to take him out. But she promises to pay you a call as soon as both boys are healthy.”
“I’ll write her and tell her I look forward to her visit,” Rachael said, almost with more enthusiasm than she could control. “And I’ll send a note to your sisters to tell them I look forward to seeing them this afternoon. This will be such fun. Our first guests.”
A broad smile lit Ben’s eyes. Every time he smiled, Rachael’s heart did a somersault in her chest. Every day she was with him, the more in love with him she became. She owed the closeness of their rel
ationship to him. He could have allowed their marriage to take such a different path, but had chosen to make a real marriage from what started out as a difficult situation.
Rachael reached over and placed her hand atop his. “Thank you.”
He frowned. “For what?”
“For…” She hesitated. “For being you.”
Ben placed his fork beside his plate and turned to face her. “I’m the one who is grateful. You’re a very special person. I would never have known it had our parents not brought us together.”
“You are the one who is special, Ben. Not every man would have accepted Claire as you have. In fact, few men would have.”
“How could I not,” he said on a laugh. “So far, everyone who’s seen her assumes she’s mine.”
Rachael couldn’t find any words to say. The look on the Duke of Townsend’s face when he saw Claire was one of shock. The look on Ben’s childhood nurse’s face was even more startling. And Mrs. Coffee had known Ben as a babe. She was familiar with what he’d looked like.
Rachael didn’t want to hope for too much. She didn’t want to imagine that Ben would want to claim Claire as his own. She picked up her toast to take another bite. Ben’s statement stopped her.
“It’s possible that Claire is mine, Rachael. In fact, I intend to believe that she is.”
She didn’t attempt to misunderstand him. “I thought you said you didn’t remember the night of the masked ball.”
He reached over to take her hand. She was sure he felt her fingers tremble. He pressed his other hand over hers, one hand beneath hers, and one hand atop.
“I don’t. Not remembering is common when I drink too much. More than once, I’ve had to rely of my friend, Baron Covington to enlighten me as to what I did after a night of drinking.”
“And Baron Covington remembered that you’d been with me?”
Ben shook his head. “No, he has no idea.”
“Then what makes you think that you were the man I was with.”
“Because I wore a fox mask the night of Julia Bentley’s ball.”
