The Rake to Reveal Her

by Julia Justiss

  ‘I’d rather get ready to teach horses with Jemmie, or plant fields, like Georgie.’

  ‘That’s only because you don’t know yet how much fun it will be to learn many things and go to university. And afterward, you’ll have lots of horses to train and fields to tend.’

  ‘Should you like to have a horse of your own?’ Lady Hazlett asked.

  Charles’s gaze hopped back to his grandmother. ‘Oh, I would! Miss Theo said after the school got ready, she would get me a pony.’

  ‘Your papa loved ponies. I think you should have one straight away.’

  While Theo absorbed that challenge, Charles subjected Lady Hazlett to a frank stare. ‘I like you. Would you like to see my soldiers now?’

  ‘Will you show me?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course. I better help you, though. It’s awful narrow in the corner for a lady.’ He offered his arm.

  Theo watched, anguish throbbing in her chest, as the son she could never acknowledge assisted his grandmother to the low eaves in the corner where his lead soldiers were displayed. How she wished Marshall had lived to see this!

  But he hadn’t, which left her with quite a dilemma.

  Now she, who had never wished to marry, needed to find a husband. A suitable husband.

  And quickly.

  * * *

  A week later, Dom sat in a parlour of the Palladian masterpiece that was Holkham Hall, agricultural tracts spread out on the desk before him. He was immersed in the merits of the Norfolk Four-Crop Rotation system when a footman in gilded livery bowed himself in. ‘Mr Ransleigh, there is a...young person to see you.’

  ‘Young person?’ he echoed blankly.

  ‘When he arrived first thing this morning, the butler sent him away, thinking it most unlikely a rough sort like that would have any acquaintance with a gentleman. But he stationed himself in the kitchen courtyard, claiming that you do know him and that he will not leave until he’s spoken with you.’

  The memory of another person a butler had been unable to shoo away popped into his mind—but the footman said this was a ‘he,’ not a young lady. Besides, he thought with a smile, if contested, Theo would doubtless put her ‘colonel’s daughter’ on and not be put off by a mere butler.

  The smile faded as he considered the only other ‘young person’ he knew whom a butler would not consider receiving—and who had the gumption to refuse to be dislodged from his intent: a boy who’d grown up emulating his sergeant-major father. And Jemmie would never have come looking for him, unaccompanied by Theo, unless something was drastically wrong.

  Having gone within an instant from amusement to alarm, Dom said, ‘Where is he? I will see him at once!’

  The footman shifted uncomfortably. ‘I don’t think the butler would approve my showing him in here, sir. Perhaps...perhaps I could convey him into the servants’ hall?’

  ‘Nonsense!’ Dom snapped, agitation lending an edge to his voice. ‘I don’t intend to conduct my business in front of the servants—or in the kitchen yard. Bring him here at once!’

  ‘Very well, sir,’ the footman said, still looking dubious.

  Wondering what could have happened at Thornfield or the school that would have prompted Theo to send Jemmie, Dom jumped up to pace the room. He was about to set off and fetch the boy himself when the door opened and an exasperated Jemmie trotted in.

  ‘Think I was tryin’ to break a prisoner out of stocks,’ he muttered. ‘I was about ready to find an open window and comb the place for ya meself.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Jemmie. I only just learned you were here. But why have you come—and how did you find me? Has something happened to Miss Branwell?’

  ‘Aye, something’s happened. Nay, she’s not hurt or nothin’,’ he added quickly at the concern he must have seen in Dom’s face. ‘Though I can’t make any sense of her takin’ such a crack-brained notion of a sudden.’

  ‘You’d better tell me the whole.’ Dom motioned to a chair, on which, after giving the gold-corded brocade upholstery a dubious glance, Jemmie perched. Seating himself at the sofa, he said, ‘Now, what has happened?’

  ‘Everything seemed just fine until about a week ago, when she come to school like she always does, but leaving Master Charles back at Thornfield. And she’s all agitated and fidgety-like. I asked her what was wrong—thought mebbe the boy’d taken sick or something, cause she sets great store by the little nipper. She said he was fine, but a lady who knew Charlie’s da had come to visit. Then she goes in and has a long talk with Miss Andrews, and after that she talks with Mr and Mrs Blake—that’s the cook and her man, what lives with us at the school. And off she goes again, without a word to any of us.’

  Jemmie frowned. ‘I knew somethin’ bad was happenin’, cause Miss Theo never left any place, ever, without tellin’ me first where she was goin’. She didn’t come to the school at all the next day. Then the next day, she comes ridin’ up in the carriage with Master Charles and tells us she’s goin’ off to London, to see her aunt, and mebbe she’d be gone a good while. Then she said goodbye.’

  The boy twisted his hands, distress on his face. ‘I knew there was somethin’ powerful wrong; she ain’t looked so broken up since they brought the colonel back after Waterloo, just afore he died.’

  ‘Didn’t she explain why she needed to go?’ Dom asked, his concern beginning to mirror Jemmie’s.

  ‘Nay. I follered her out, cause I weren’t goin’ to let her go off to London all alone, not til I knew why. She hugged me, and there was tears in her eyes. And she told me she was goin’ to London to find a husband! That her aunt would help her, and she might not come back till after she was married. She said she was sorry, and she loved me like her own son, and then she got back into the carriage and drove away.’

  Jemmie stared into the distance. ‘We been through a lot together, Mr Ransleigh, Miss Theo and me. And it sounded like she was tellin’ me goodbye for g-good.’

  Tears glittered in Jemmie’s eyes before he rubbed them away with a grubby fist. ‘Why would she want to get married now, when she’s told me for years, after she lost her lieutenant, she’d never marry nobody? And when she knows I’ll soon be growed and kin take care of her like her pa did, so she won’t never be alone no more?’

  Only desperation would ever drive me to the Marriage Mart, he recalled her saying. ‘I can’t imagine.’

  ‘We need to know what’s wrong so we kin do somethin’ to help her. She tells me lots, but she prob’ly won’t talk to me about marryin’. That’s why I lit out to find you straight away. Folks up at Bildenstone told me you was goin’ to Newmarket and then here, so’s when I didn’t find you there, I come to Holkham. But we got to hurry. She’ll be in London, with her aunt by now.’

  Dom looked at him, astonished at his journey. ‘How did you manage to travel all—?’ He broke off abruptly. A child who’d scrambled along in the wake of an army probably knew things about transporting and feeding himself Dom would rather not enquire about too closely. ‘Never mind. You think Miss Branwell is in London, then?’

  ‘By now, sure as sure. You got to make her tell you what’s wrong. All of us at the school are worried, ’cause we don’t want her marryin’ so hasty, maybe somebody who don’t deserve her and won’t treat her right. Then Miss Theo told me a while back if she married, her husband could take everything she owns. Which would mean the school, too, wouldn’t it? So if this bloke didn’t like us, he could toss us all out on the street.’

  ‘True, a husband normally controls his wife’s wealth,’ Dom admitted.

  ‘Her aunt’s a great lady, so she’ll be marrying Miss Theo off to some grand gentleman. I know how the toffs look at us—and I just bet this husband person would want nothin’ to do with us, nor let her run the school neither. And even though she’s got Charlie, Miss Theo’d be awful sad if she lost all of us. So we got to fi
nd her and talk her out of this.’

  ‘I’d certainly like to know what happened,’ Dom admitted. Having half-formed an idea of perhaps courting Theo Branwell himself, the notion of her marrying another man didn’t sit very well with him, either.

  ‘So you’ll go to London and find out what happened?’

  He wasn’t sure how he was going to justify inserting himself into so private a matter when he had no claim at all upon the lady...but he knew curiosity alone, not to mention a fierce need to protect and shelter her, wouldn’t let him rest until he found out.

  He was her landlord, after all. If something about the management of the school were going to change, he needed to know that.

  And when had Theo Branwell ever hesitated to insert herself into his private affairs?

  He was smiling at that thought when Jemmie said, ‘Mr Ransleigh? I know I ain’t always been too friendly-like, and I’m sorry for that,’ he said, his freckled face flushing. ‘But I know you like us, or you wouldn’t’ve let Miss Theo rent your building. She told me you been askin’ around for a trainer to teach me how to manage horses, and someone to help Georgie learn to farm. You like Miss Theo, too—I know you do. And she likes you. She comes back smilin’ after she’s been with you, happy like I’ve not seen her since the colonel died. So I think she’ll tell you what’s wrong—and listen when you talk her out of marryin’.’

  Could he talk her out of it? Or should he just suggest a suitable candidate?

  He’d already broached to himself the idea of courting her. But he meant to consider it at leisure—not let circumstances rush him into something with such enormous and irreversible consequences.

  Delectable consequences, his body whispered.

  Ignoring his carnal urgings, he told Jemmie, ‘I’ll leave for London immediately and see what I can discover.’

  Jemmie uttered a sigh of relief. ‘I’ll be on my way back to the school, then. Can make a good bit afore nightfall, if I get a-goin’.’

  ‘Why don’t you go post? I’ll spot you the fare. It will be faster than...whatever means you can find on your own.’

  ‘Thank ’ee, Mr Ransleigh. That’d be right nice. But just a loan, now.’

  ‘Just a loan.’ Rooting in his waistcoat for some coins, he thought that if Theo Branwell were going to be as independent and resistant to taking help as her protégé, trying to straighten whatever fix she’d got herself into was going to be difficult.

  ‘And, Mr Ransleigh? You will hurry, won’t ya?’

  ‘I will.’ After ringing for a servant, he handed Jemmie enough blunt to see him safely back to Suffolk. When the footman appeared, Dom instructed him to have one of the grooms carry Jemmie to the nearest posting inn, and ready his own vehicle.

  He walked up to his room, to set Henries packing while he wrote his host a quick note. With luck, he could follow Jemmie’s departure with the hour.

  Curiosity, unease, and puzzlement kept chasing each other around his brain. He couldn’t imagine what catastrophe could have made calm, capable Theo Branwell look ‘agitated’ and ‘fidgety-like’. Nor change overnight the mind of a woman who’d seemed dead set against marriage.

  He wanted to find out, though. And he wanted to get to London before his unusually flustered Theo did something precipitous he’d not be able to undo.

  Chapter Fifteen

  That same afternoon, Theo and Charles arrived at the London residence of her Aunt Amelia in Jermyn Street. After seeing the boy up to a bedchamber with a maid in attendance, she made herself as presentable as was possible after so much time on the road. Having asked the butler not to announce her, she went to knock at the door of her aunt’s private sitting room.

  Lady Coghlane, wearing a fetching afternoon gown, was dozing on her sofa when Theo walked in. She was halfway across the room when her drowsy aunt, opening one eye, recognised her and sat up with a start.

  ‘My darling Theo! What a delightful surprise!’ she cried.

  ‘Please, sit,’ Theo said. ‘I didn’t mean to disturb your rest, only to tell you I’d arrived.’

  Her aunt sank back against the cushions, looking befuddled. ‘Did I know you were coming? Not that you aren’t welcome to visit whenever, and as often, as you like!’

  ‘No, this trip was...rather sudden.’ Now that the moment for explanation—and confession—had come, Theo wasn’t sure how to begin, the numerous speeches she’d rehearsed in the coach deserting her. Too unsettled to sit, she took a turn about the room.

  Inspecting her closely, Lady Coghlane frowned. ‘You look distressed, my dear. What is wrong? And how can I help?’

  Theo turned to face her aunt, twisting her gloved fingers together. ‘The truth is, I’m in a devil of a coil, and I only hope you can help me! Or will still want to, once I’ve told you the whole.’

  ‘Still want to? Don’t be silly! Of course I’ll want to, my dearest, darling niece! With Richard gone, you’re my nearest blood, save my own children. I’ll always love you, regardless of what you’ve done. Though, with that orphanage you were determined to thrust into the midst of Suffolk gentry...’ She paused with a shudder. ‘Regardless of what’s happened, we’ll deal with it!’

  The idea of Lady Coghlane swooping up to Suffolk like a fairy godmother, applying the magic wand of her society position to buttress Theo’s position, brought Theo a temporary respite from her anxiety.

  ‘It has nothing to do with the orphanage—at least not directly.’

  ‘Whatever it is, let me first ring for some tea. Every situation looks better after a warm, soothing drink.’ After tugging at the bell pull, she said, ‘Where did you break your journey? Did you get any rest?’

  Not sure whether she felt relieved or more anxious at the delay, Theo said, ‘We travelled pretty much straight through, except at night, so Charles could have a bed to sleep. I brought him with me.’

  ‘And the others?’

  ‘They’re at school. Which is up and running now, by the way. Renovations of the building went splendidly, I found a lovely girl, Miss Andrews, to teach, and an older couple to live in as cook and general handyman. I was in the process of considering applications for a tutor for Charles—before he gets too accustomed to being at the school, too.’

  ‘That wouldn’t be wise,’ her aunt agreed. ‘You can’t expect him to act like a gentleman later if he’s raised like a foundling. And—what of Mr Ransleigh?’

  Theo swallowed hard, Dominic Ransleigh being the one topic she’d forbidden herself to think about since the nightmare of Lady Hazlett’s visit.

  ‘He’s been an exemplary neighbour. His grandfather amassed quite a magnificent library at Bildenstone, which he is allowing me access to. I...enjoy his company. He’s very easy to talk to.’ Oh, and so much more, Theo thought distractedly.

  A knock at the door was followed by the entry of the butler with the tea tray. Once they’d settled themselves in with full cups, Lady Coghlane said, ‘So, tell me what’s troubling you.’

  Her stomach, half-settled by the warming tea, twisted into knots again. ‘I suppose it started with me falling in love with Marshall, supremely confident that we would live together the rest of our lives.’

  Her aunt gave her a sympathetic glance. ‘I’m sure you did believe in for ever...ill advised as that was, with him being a serving officer during a bloody conflict.’

  ‘You’ll remember that, almost five years ago now, I was going to accompany Lord Everly’s wife back to London for the birth of her child.’

  ‘Of course I remember! You were going to stay with me.’

  ‘Only she became ill on the journey, and we ended up at a convent until after the birth of her child.’

  ‘Yes. Also that she didn’t long survive his birth.’

  Theo took a deep breath. ‘What you didn’t know is that she wasn’t the only
one taken ill. After I learned that Marshall had been killed, I was distraught. Even more so because I’d only just discovered I was...increasing. You see, Alicia wasn’t the only one who gave birth at that convent. She died in childbed, and her child with her. Charles, the infant I brought back with me, wasn’t her son—he is mine.’

  Theo waited miserably while her aunt’s eyes widened. Dropping her teacup with a clatter, she gasped, ‘Your child? You mean Charles is your son?’

  Theo nodded. ‘Mine and Marshall’s. Oh, I was “ill advised” indeed! So confident of our future, I begged Marshall to make me his before I left with Alicia for London. Never dreaming he would not be there that winter to marry me.’

  ‘Oh, my poor dear! What a predicament! Did Richard know?’

  ‘No. I intended to confess the whole to him upon my return, even as I dreaded losing his good opinion—as I dread losing yours, now. But when I arrived back in camp and informed Everly’s commander of his wife’s death, the colonel assumed the infant I’d brought back with me was their son. Before I could get another word out, he went off into a diatribe about the perfidy of the nobility, with the Marquess of Wareton refusing to acknowledge either the marriage or the child. He asked if I could continue to look after the boy, at least temporarily. I barely had time to agree before he shooed me out to deal with an important dispatch. Then, with the news spreading through camp that Everly’s wife had died and I’d brought back her son, it seemed wiser—for Charles’s sake and Papa’s, more than for my own—to let it be thought he was the legitimate—if unrecognised—grandson of a marquess. Rather than the illegitimate son of a colonel’s daughter.’

  Theo faced her aunt, the churning in her stomach intensifying. ‘I’m so ashamed I let you and Papa down.’

  The remorse and guilt she usually suppressed swept through her in a staggering wave. Swamped by it, she needed every bit of strength to hold the sobs at bay, only a single tear escaping to trickle down her cheek.

  Her aunt rushed over to embrace her. ‘There, now, my poor dear!’ she crooned, rubbing Theo’s trembling back as she tried to regain control. ‘You needn’t apologise to me for doing what girls in love have done from time immemorial. If the gods were female, you wouldn’t have conceived—or if you had, your beloved would have stayed alive to marry you!’