The Reluctant Earl

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The Reluctant Earl Page 10

by Joan Wolf


  He groaned, reared back, and drove all the way in.

  Claire’s fingers dug into his shoulders. All of the wonderful tension was extinguished, replaced by a burning pain. She clenched her teeth so she wouldn’t cry out. She felt him moving back and forth inside her, and dug her fingers tighter into his shoulders. At last he let out a sound she had never heard before, and collapsed on top of her. His heart was hammering so hard it made her breasts quiver. She held him close, burying her mouth in his hair, until his breathing and heartbeat finally began to slow.

  I gave him this, she thought, feeling fiercely happy in spite of the pain.

  Finally he lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes full of concern. “I hurt you. I’m sorry, Claire. Very sorry.”

  “It wasn’t bad,” she said, reaching up and smoothing her finger along his cheekbone. “We both know that a young mare’s first time with the stallion is hard for her. It will get better. And I liked most of it very much.”

  His crystalline blue eyes smiled down at her. “I don’t deserve you.” He kissed her with great tenderness and she guided his head to rest in the hollow between her neck and shoulder. They lay together like that for a long time, fulfilled and quiet and at peace.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Fortunately for Claire and Simon, Richard Jarvis was at his country home near Bedford when Simon’s letter was delivered. Two hours later and he would have been on his way to London on business.

  His butler brought Jarvis the letter while he was finishing up some accounts in his office. When he looked up and saw the butler in the doorway he said impatiently, “I thought I said I didn’t what to be disturbed.”

  “I beg your pardon, Mr. Jarvis, but a groom has just arrived from Welbourne Abbey with a letter for you. It is from Lord Woodbridge and I thought you would like to see it before you left.”

  “A letter from my nephew?” Jarvis put down his pen. “You had better give it to me, Whiting.”

  The butler presented the silver salver upon which the letter reposed. Jarvis took it, saying, “Wait until I’ve read it, will you? There may be an answer.”

  “Certainly, Mr. Jarvis.”

  Jarvis unfolded the letter and read:

  Dear Uncle Richard,

  By the time you receive this missive, Claire and I will have reached Gretna Green in Scotland where we plan to be married. I realize this will be a shock to you, but I love her more than anything in the world, and she loves me. My father would never agree to a marriage between us, so we have eloped.

  I know we do not deserve your support, nevertheless I am writing to beg you to help us. We are staying at the coaching inn in Carlisle, and I’m afraid I won’t have enough money left from the 100 pounds you gave me to pay for the mail coach to take us home. Can you send me some more money? Or even a carriage? I do not want to subject Claire to the common stage, which is all I can afford at the moment.

  We are both fully cognizant of how brazen such a request is, but I am hoping you will help us for the sake of my mother.

  I have also sent a letter to Claire’s parents so they won’t worry, but I have yet to inform my father. Unfair as it may be, I am placing our future in your hands.

  Your grateful nephew,

  Simon

  Jarvis read the letter through twice. So that’s what it was all about, he muttered to himself. I knew the two of them were up to something.

  His eyes fell on the words, for the sake of my mother, and he shook his head. The young devil knew exactly how best to manipulate him.

  He looked up and said to his butler, “Get me Hartly. Immediately.”

  “Yes, sir.” The butler turned and left the room.

  Hartly was Jarvis’ coachman and Jarvis had made a quick decision to send him to Carlisle with Jarvis’ carriage. He couldn’t leave those idiot children stuck in an inn without money. For a few moments he contemplated the thought of going himself, but the thought of a long, fast drive over rough roads wasn’t appealing. He would send Hartly to bring the children back here. Then he’d deal with them.

  He read Simon’s letter one more time and, reluctantly, he smiled. The young devil had pluck, he’d give him that. It would be interesting to hear what he had to say for himself when he arrived at Jarvis House.

  # # #

  Elise and Liam had been frantic with worry when the squire brought them the news of Claire’s disappearance. They stood in their drawing room after the squire had left (with many protestations of apology and offers to help), and tried to decipher what could have happened.

  “She had to have left of her own free will,” Liam said. “If someone had come into the room to kidnap her, Charlotte would have heard something.”

  Elise’s face was white with fear and shock. “Could she have gone downstairs for a book, or a drink, and encountered someone who shouldn’t be in the house? A thief, perhaps.”

  Liam shook his head. “No thief would be idiot enough to try to rob the house of the local magistrate.”

  “Then Charlotte must know what Claire was up to,” Elise said, her voice unusually stern.

  “According to Weston she says she doesn’t.”

  “She has to,” Elise returned in the same uncompromising tone of voice. “Those two are as close as sisters. Charlotte would lie for Claire if Claire asked her to.”

  “She must be made to tell us, then,” Liam said. “I’ll go over to Winsted and get the truth out of her.”

  Elise put a restraining hand on his arm. “You can’t just march in there and interrogate Charlotte, Liam.”

  His eyes were bright with anger. “Well, I am not going to just stay here waiting to hear that my daughter has been murdered. Or raped….” His voice broke and he pinched his lips together trying to compose himself.

  Elise sat on the sofa, as if her knees had suddenly given out. She looked up at her husband, her hazel eyes wide. “I just had a thought … Liam, I wonder if Simon is gone too.”

  “Simon?”

  “If something happened, and he needed help…. Claire would do anything for Simon. You know that.”

  “I’ll ride to the abbey right now and find out.”

  Elise accompanied her husband to the door just in time to see one of the grooms from the earl’s stable come riding up their lane. Elise grabbed Liam’s arm and held it tightly as the groom dismounted and came to meet them.

  “I have a letter for you, Mr. O’Rourke,” he said. “Lord Woodbridge asked me to deliver it this morning.”

  Liam plucked the folded paper from the groom’s hand, mumbled, “Thank you, Jeremy,” and turned back into the house with Elise beside him. They stopped in the front hall and Liam unfolded the letter and read out loud:

  Dear Mr. O’Rourke,

  By the time you receive this letter Claire and I will be on our way to Gretna Green to be married. We profoundly regret deceiving you and Mrs. O’Rourke, but we love each other deeply and there seemed no other way we could become husband and wife. My father would certainly forbid it, and I would be packed off to Oxford until I turned 21. We could not face that kind of separation again.

  You and Mrs. O’Rourke have always been my true family and it grieves me to have deceived you. But Claire is my life, my other self, and she feels the same way about me. We could not bear three more years of separation. I hope and pray you will find it in your hearts to forgive me.

  I have not written to my father. I doubt he even notices I’m gone. We hope to be home within the week; I’m sure my uncle will help us. Claire is very sorry for whatever anxiety her disappearance may have caused you, and hopes you will forgive her.

  Respectfully,

  Simon

  P.S. I have the money from my mother’s family to live on, so we do not expect you to support us.

  Liam looked at his wife, his eyes glittering with a mixture of astonishment and fury. “They’re married! They eloped to Gretna Green! I can’t believe it!”

  Elise was equally astonished. “Married? Claire and Simon? I
never thought… ”

  “I can’t believe Claire would do this to us.” Liam was staring at the letter as if it was poisoned.

  Elise stretched out her hand for the infamous missive. “Let me see.”

  Liam gave her the letter and watched her face as she read. When she slowly folded it and gave it back to him he demanded, “Did you ever suspect this…this love affair?”

  “Non. Never.” She closed her eyes for a long moment, obviously thinking. When she opened them again she said, “And now I realize how stupid I have been. It was right there before me, but I never saw it. I thought of Simon as our son, and so I assumed that Claire thought of him as her brother.” She shook her head slowly in disbelief. “The both of us were blind to what was between them, Liam. We saw what we expected to see, not what was there.”

  “That’s because they wanted us to be blind.” Liam was furious. “They deliberately deceived us. I blame Claire, but I blame Simon more. He didn’t even have the decency to speak to me. Instead he talked my innocent daughter into an elopement. Gretna Green! Good God, Elise, it will be a huge scandal.”

  “Yes,” Elise said quietly. “I fear it will be.”

  Suddenly Liam gasped and all the color drained from his face. “Elise! Do you think he has got her with child? Is that why they had to elope?”

  “No.” Elise’s voice was deliberate and calm. “I do not think Simon would take advantage of Claire. He has far too much love and respect for you to do such a thing.”

  “He can’t love and respect me that much if he’s eloped with my daughter!”

  “Come into the drawing room and sit down. We have to think about this. We have to decide what we should do.”

  When they were both sitting on the sofa, Nancy, who had kept to the kitchen ever since the squire’s departure, came to the door and inquired, “Would you like some tea, Mrs. O’Rourke?”

  “No, thank you Nancy. Not just now.” Elise managed a strained smile. “Why don’t you start tidying the upstairs?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And close the door behind you,” Liam barked.

  The drawing room door closed soundlessly and Elise once more appropriated the letter, unfolded it and read these words aloud: Claire is my life, my other self. And she feels the same way about me.” She looked up at Liam. “They love each other. They love each other and they want to be together. Is that so bad?”

  “Don’t get too sentimental about this, Elise! They’re seventeen and eighteen years old. They’ve never had a chance to meet other people. What do they know about love?”

  Elise’s hazel eyes were grave as she regarded her husband. “I was seventeen when I married you, mon amour. I knew what love was then, and in all these years my heart has never changed.”

  Liam was silent and, when he finally spoke, his voice was quieter. “We didn’t elope. We were married with the permission of your parents.”

  “My parents wanted me to marry that dreadful old lord with no chin. They only agreed to allow me to marry you because I told them I would go and live with you without marriage if they didn’t consent.”

  Liam’s mouth dropped open as he stared into his wife’s face. “You never told me that!”

  She gave a very Gallic shrug. “I didn’t want you to think ill of my parents.”

  He took her hands into his and looked deeply into her hazel eyes, now turned almost golden with emotion. “Would you have done it?” he asked huskily. “Lived with me without benefit of marriage?”

  “Yes, I would have.”

  He drew her into his arms. “I love you so much,” he said, his mouth buried in her hair. “So very much.”

  She pressed her cheek against his chest. “Don’t you think that our daughter would know what it means to love a man?”

  He sighed.

  She said, “Do you think Richard Jarvis knew about this?”

  “I doubt it.” His voice was muffled by her hair. “Jarvis would never have gone along with a plan to allow his nephew to elope.”

  “Liam…” Her voice was tentative, “do you think the earl will dismiss you?”

  He sat up, back to facing their immediate problem. “He would be perfectly within his rights to do so. But we have plenty of money saved and I can easily get another place if it becomes necessary. That’s not what’s worrying me right now.” His face was grim. “Simon seems to think the earl will let him play love in a cottage with Claire. That’s not going to happen. This is a very unequal marriage for Simon, and his father will do all he can to get it annulled.

  “Can he get it annulled?”

  “I doubt it.” He gave her a sardonic look. “I’m quite certain the marriage has been duly consummated.”

  Elise wrung her hands. “There must be something we can do!”

  “Not much, I’m afraid. My hope lies with Richard Jarvis. He’s a powerful man and Simon seems to think he’ll support the marriage.”

  Elise said, “Simon is like a son to us and Claire is our daughter. No matter what happens, they must always know that we will stand behind them. That is one thing we can do for them.”

  Liam sighed. “As usual, mo ghra, you are right. I just wish Simon had spoken to me. This was not the way to handle matters.”

  “Perhaps it wasn’t, but they are young, Liam. Young people in love are not always wise.”

  “True.” He gave her a somber look. “I’m going to have to tell the earl. Simon has not written to him and, while he might not love his son, he is certain to be distressed by his disappearance.”

  Elise sighed. “You’re right.”

  “He might dismiss me on the spot when he hears about Claire.”

  “If we have to we can always stay with the Westons until you find another job. But I agree the earl must be told. Simon was wrong not to write to him.”

  Liam got to his feet. “I’d better do it now, before I lose my courage.”

  She reached up a hand and he took it to pull her up to stand beside him. “You have the courage of a lion, mon amour. It’s not you I worry about; it’s those foolish children.”

  “I know. Gretna Green! There was no need to be so rash. Every newspaper in England will gobble up this scandal, and Claire will get the blame, not Simon. They’ll say she seduced him.”

  “None of our friends will think that and those are the opinions that matter to me. To us, Liam.”

  For the first time since the letter had been delivered, he smiled. “As usual, you’re right. I don’t care what the damn English might think. The children are alive, they’re healthy and that’s what matters most.”

  “Amen,” Elise said. “Now, go and get this duty over with.”

  He nodded, turned and left the room. A few seconds later she heard the front door open and shut.

  I hope the earl doesn’t dismiss him, Elise thought. We’re so happy here…we have so many friends… She drew a deep breath and went into the kitchen to plan the menu for dinner.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  When a grim Liam arrived at the abbey to inform Simon’s father of their children’s elopement, he was told the earl was away from home. Liam next asked to speak to Carstairs, the butler.

  “I believe Mr. Carstairs is in consultation with Mrs. Willis, Mr. O’Rourke. If you will wait a moment, I’ll see if he is available,” John, the footman, told him.

  It didn’t take John long to return with an invitation to the housekeeper’s room. Liam, who knew Mrs. Willis was exceedingly fond of Simon, felt comfortable speaking to her as well as to Carstairs, and followed John down the hallway.

  The housekeeper’s sitting room was quite comfortable, with a rocking chair in front of the fire and an upholstered sofa along one wall. Carstairs and Mrs. Willis had been in service at Welbourne since before Simon was born, and they knew each other very well.

  As Liam entered the room, Mrs. Willis gave him a look of great anxiety. She was a woman in her sixties, with a large, determined nose, a narrow chin, and kind brown eyes. She asked imme
diately, “Please, Mr. O’Rourke, have you come to tell us something about Lord Woodbridge? We’ve just discovered he did not come home last night. That’s not like him!”

  “Yes, it’s about Lord Woodbridge. I need to communicate with his lordship. Do you have his direction?”

  “Yes, of course. He and Lady Welbourne left two days ago to pay a visit to Lord Aston in Wiltshire.”

  “Wiltshire,” Liam repeated, calculating in his head how long it would take for a messenger to ride to Wiltshire.

  Carstairs said hesitantly, “May I ask – is Lord Woodbridge at your house, Mr. O’Rourke? I must confess Mrs. Willis and I are quite worried about him.”

  “No, I am sorry to say that he is not at my house,” Liam said. Then, hastily, as both servants looked alarmed, “But I can assure you he is safe.”

  “Thank God,” Mrs. Willis breathed. She sat down in her rocking chair and gestured for the men to take the sofa.

  Liam had not planned to tell anyone about the elopement except the earl, but, confronted by those two worried faces, he changed his mind “What I am about to say must be kept in this room.”

  Carstairs elevated his impressive hooked nose. “We do not tell tales, Mr. O’Rourke.”

  “I know you don’t, and I know you are fond of Lord Woodbridge, so I will tell you the truth. He has eloped to Gretna Green with my daughter.”

  Stunned silence greeted this announcement.

  Finally Mrs. Willis collected herself enough to ask, “Did they make it to Scotland? Are they married?”

  “They may not be married yet, but, as there is no one on the scene to stop them, they will be shortly. And I have the fortunate task of telling his lordship what his heir has done with my daughter.”

  “Well.” Some color returned to Mrs. Willis’s cheeks. “I am glad of it,” she said defiantly. “Lord Woodbridge loves that little lass and she loves him. She’s good for him. I’m glad.”

  “It’s all very well for you to think that way, Mrs. Willis,” Carstairs rumbled in his deep, carefully enunciated voice, “but you can be sure his lordship won’t. He will be livid.”

 

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