The Reluctant Earl

by Joan Wolf

  “Yes, he will be,” Liam said resignedly. “But he must be told. If I write a letter, will you see that it is delivered to Lord Welbourne in Wiltshire?”

  “Of course, Mr. O’Rourke, of course.”

  Liam sat down at the small mahogany secretary in the corner of the room and accepted the paper and pen Mrs. Willis handed him. He wrote quickly, stating only the bare facts of the successful elopement and the imminent return of his son with his bride.

  “See that it goes at once,” he said.

  “That I will,” Carstairs replied, taking the folded paper from his hand.

  Liam left the abbey through a back door, and rode slowly back to the cottage, his mind fixed on what the earl might do when he heard the news. He didn’t doubt that Simon would stand up to his father and fight for Claire. The boy detested his father, but he didn’t fear him. The problem was that Simon was still only eighteen years old, three years away from attaining legal status as an adult. Until then he was in his father’s power.

  One thing the earl would not be able to change was the validity of the marriage. It had been legally transacted in Scotland, and Scottish law was honored in England. The question was: would it be possible for Welbourne to separate husband and wife for three years? Liam had an unpleasant feeling they were all about to find out.

  # # #

  Five days after Simon and Claire had eloped, the Earl of Welbourne returned to his home. His fury was felt by everyone in the house, and by many others who worked on the estate. He raged at Liam for a full forty minutes before telling him to “Get out of my sight before I do something I will regret!”

  “Well, he didn’t dismiss me, mo ghra,” Liam said to Elise when he returned to their cottage. “He was damned offensive, but it could have been worse.”

  Privately, Liam had decided that if the earl behaved as Liam was afraid he would, Liam would take Elise and Claire – and Simon, if he could – and find a position somewhere else. The man was poisonous. Liam felt infected just being around him. If Simon and Claire had to wait three years before they could be together, then they would have to wait. After some of the disgusting things Liam had heard pouring from the earl’s mouth, he quite frankly never wanted to speak to the man again.

  And so things stood at Welbourne as they waited for the return of the newly weds, Simon and Claire.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  It was a warm summer afternoon when the carriage carrying Simon and Claire turned into the drive of Richard Jarvis’ country estate. The house was hidden from the road by a bank of old trees, but when it came into view a lovely old manor house built of mellowed brick was revealed. It reminded Claire of the squire’s home of Winsted, which she had always loved. The surrounding lawn was perfectly cut, and a profusion of flowerbeds added brilliant color to an already attractive picture.

  As soon as the carriage stopped, the front door of the house opened and a footman appeared. Claire instinctively exchanged looks with Simon as they watched him walk in a stately manner down the path to the carriage door. “Say a prayer,” Simon muttered as he opened the door and jumped down.

  “Good afternoon, Lord Woodbridge,” the footman said with a little bow. “The steps will be here in a moment for Lady Woodbridge to descend.”

  Lady Woodbridge! Claire looked down at her rumpled dress and put a hand up to her long, tied back hair. She looked like a farmer’s wife. What could she possibly find to say that would convince Simon’s uncle that she was an appropriate bride for a future earl!

  “We don’t need the steps,” Simon said, and took her hand as she jumped lightly to the ground.

  “Mr. Jarvis will see you in the small salon,” the footman announced and began to lead the way up the stone walkway to the house.

  Claire glanced again at Simon as they walked together toward this vital meeting with his uncle. His expression was calm and confident, but a muscle twitched in his jaw and she knew he was as uncertain as she about what their reception might be.

  The room they were shown into was bright, with sunlight streaming in through two tall windows. An ivory brocade sofa stood in front of the fireplace with two upholstered chairs on either side of it.

  “Mr. Jarvis will be with you shortly,” the footman said, and left without offering them any refreshment.

  They sat on the sofa, very close to each other.

  “I feel like a prisoner about to face the judge,” Claire whispered.

  Simon grinned, and just looking at that familiar smile made her feel better.

  The door opened and Richard Jarvis came into the room. Simon and Claire stood up in unison and faced him.

  “Welcome to my home,” Jarvis said gravely.

  “Thank you, sir,” Simon returned. “And thank you for sending your coach for us. The journey to Scotland cost more than I thought it would.”

  Jarvis came to shake Simon’s hand. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he bent to kiss Claire’s cheek. The touch of his dry lips on her skin made Claire suddenly feel certain that he would help them, and she gave him her wonderful smile.

  “It was far more comfortable than the mail coach,” she said confidingly.

  It was impossible not to respond to that smile and he smiled back.

  “Sit down, sit down.” He gestured to the sofa and, once they were seated, he took one of the chairs.

  “So - you are married then?” Jarvis asked Simon.

  “Yes, sir, we are. I have the certificate in my case.”

  “It was done in Gretna Green?”

  “Yes.”

  Jarvis raised a sardonic eyebrow. “I imagine that must have been an interesting experience.”

  “It got the job done,” Simon replied soberly.

  “Yes, it did.” Jarvis looked from Simon to Claire then back again to Simon. His voice was pleasant as he asked, “Well, now that you have accomplished your marriage, have you made any plans for your future?”

  Of course they had talked about their future! Claire thought. But so much depended upon this man agreeing to help them. She had to restrain herself from putting a hand on Simon’s leg to encourage him.

  Simon said easily, as if it were a matter of minor concern, “I was rather hoping my father would allow us to live on his estate in Ireland. If you would agree to give me my allowance, I’m sure we will manage quite well.”

  Claire’s eyes were glued to Jarvis’ face. From his expression it was clear that Simon had surprised him. “My understanding is the estate in Ireland is a castle,” he said slowly. “You would need a considerably higher sum to live in it than a hundred pounds a quarter.”

  They had discussed this, and Claire listened anxiously as Simon explained, “We don’t plan to live in the castle, sir. We’ll live in one of the attending cottages.”

  Jarvis’ eyebrows rose. “I see.” His voice was perfectly courteous as he continued his interrogation, “And what do you plan to do while you are living in this cottage? Grow potatoes?”

  At this comment, Claire had to pinch her lips together to keep from replying. Simon, who was still managing to look cool and confident, said, “We can most certainly plant a vegetable garden.”

  He didn’t seem at all intimidated by his powerful uncle, and Claire shot him an admiring look.

  Jarvis leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of his mouth, looking at Simon over them. There was a long silence, and Claire had to fight hard not to show the anxiety that was gripping her.

  At last Jarvis said, his voice more realistic than the uncomfortably pleasant tone he had hitherto employed, “Your father will never allow you to go to Ireland, Simon.”

  Simon disagreed. “I think he will, sir. I think he will be delighted to be rid of me. And his wife will encourage him to let us go. If I am tucked away safely in Ireland, they can pretend I don’t exist and bring Charlie up as if he will be the heir.” A note of passion entered his careful voice. “I wish he was the heir. I wish to God I could be just Simon Radley, with no title hanging over
my head. If I was just an ordinary person I could get a job working in your bank, and Claire and I could marry and have a normal life like other ordinary people.”

  It was crystal clear that Simon meant every word he had spoken.

  His uncle sighed. “You are not an ‘ordinary person,’ however. Like it or not, one day you will be the Earl of Welbourne, with all the power and responsibility that comes with such a title. Now, you wrote to tell me about the elopement, and you wrote to O’Rourke. Have you written to your father?”

  “No, sir, I have not.”

  “You should have.” Jarvis was very serious.

  “I doubt he’s even noticed I’m gone.” Simon’s voice was deeply bitter.

  For the first time a flicker of emotion crossed Jarvis’ face. “He may not love you, but you are still his heir. He won’t like this unequal marriage, Simon. He may even try to get it annulled. You must prepare yourself for that.”

  Simon picked up Claire’s hand and held it in such a strong grip it hurt. “I don’t care what he likes or doesn’t like. We’re married and there are no grounds for an annulment.”

  Claire, taking courage from that hand crushing hers, spoke for the first time. “The earl has treated Simon abominably. The best thing that could happen to both of us would be to never have anything to do with him again!” Her temper flared every time she thought of Simon’s horrid father and she added passionately, “He’s an evil man. Mr. Jarvis. We know he’ll want to separate us, but we won’t let him!”

  Simon shot her a quick smile, and turned back to his uncle. “I have some information about my father that I think you might find of interest, Uncle Richard.”

  “Oh? And what is that?”

  “It appears that my father is rather deeply in debt.”

  Claire, who knew what Simon was going to say, sat perfectly still, her eyes fixed on Jarvis.

  Jarvis said sharply, “How did you find this out?”

  Simon flushed as he went on. “Just before we eloped I overheard a conversation between my father and our estate agent. They were in the library, and I had come to look for a book. I hesitated when I heard them talking, and I was about to go away when I realized what the conversation was about. So,” he raised his chin and the color deepened in his cheeks, “I stayed where I was and listened. Mr. Halleck was talking about all the repairs that need to be done on the estate, and asking my father to authorize money to replace some roofs. And my father said … well, he told Halleck there was no available money for the estate, that he had debts that had to be paid first, and he didn’t want Halleck bothering him again about the damn roofs or anything else to do with the tenants.”

  A fraught silence greeted the end of Simon’s speech. Claire glanced at his face, then looked again to Jarvis, who still hadn’t said anything.

  “I’d heard something else earlier,” Simon added. “ I heard my stepmother accusing my father of running through both my mother’s money and her own marriage settlement.” He flushed as he realized how he must sound. “I can assure you, sir, I don’t usually go around listening at doors.”

  “You have every right to know what your father is doing with your inheritance,” his uncle said emphatically. “Tell me this, is Welbourne gambling?”

  “I know he wagers a lot on horses. He does all right when he wagers on our horses, but he goes to all the race meetings, even when we don’t have a horse running, and I think he bets heavily. Apparently he doesn’t do so well on those bets.” Simon leaned a little forward. “I’ve been thinking about this, Uncle Richard. That’s the reason he’s so furious the trust fund is coming to me and not to him. He needs the money to pay his gambling debts.”

  By now Richard Jarvis was incensed. Claire sighed with relief as she looked at his face. He would handle the earl for them.

  Jarvis said grimly, “I will take care of this situation, Simon – and without touching your trust fund! James Radley will not get a farthing more of Jarvis money. Not One Farthing.” He got to his feet and jerked the bell pull for a servant. “I’ll have my housekeeper show you and Claire to your room. You’ll stay here overnight and tomorrow the three of us will go to Welbourne. The earl has a lot to answer for, and he’ll answer for it to me.”

  Simon glanced at her and she stood up with him. “Thank you, Uncle,” Simon said.

  A footman appeared at the doorway and Jarvis said, “Have Mrs. Emory show Lord and Lady Woodbridge to the green room.” He turned to Simon. “Dinner will be at six thirty in the dining room. I will see you there.”

  “Thank you, Uncle,” Simon said again, and Claire echoed his words.

  The housekeeper took them up the stairs to a very pretty room that overlooked a rose garden. Their paltry luggage had already been placed inside. As soon as the door closed after the housekeeper, Claire flung her arms around Simon.

  “It will be all right! Your uncle is going to help us! Isn’t it a good thing that your father gambled away all that money?”

  Simon’s arms closed around her and she felt his lips on the top of her head. “And isn’t it a good thing I eavesdropped on those conversations?” He sounded amused.

  She snuggled her face into his shoulder. “God put you there. I really do believe that.”

  She felt him pulling the ribbon out of her hair. Free of its confinement, it spilled down her back, almost to her waist. He spoke softly into her ear, “Doesn’t that bed look comfortable?”

  She took her head out of his shoulder and looked up into his face. His eyes were narrowed and held a look she had come to know well in just a few days. She smiled. “It does indeed, my husband. Shall we try it out?”

  “Oh definitely.” And he picked her up and carried her over to the high, pillow-decked bed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  After breakfast the following morning Claire and Simon ascended once again into Richard Jarvis’ coach, this time with Jarvis himself accompanying them. The three passengers were silent during the drive, with Simon striving valiantly to hide from Claire how worried he was about meeting her father. Now that Simon had known the bliss of being with her, of waking in the morning to see her beautiful face on the pillow next to his, he could not, would not, be parted from her again. He hoped with all his heart that Liam would understand.

  Unfortunately, it was his father, not Liam, who had the power. For the thousandth time Simon thought, If only I wasn’t so young! He looked at his uncle sitting across from him in the carriage. Jarvis’ eyes were closed and he looked as if he was dozing. Uncle Richard may be a powerful man in the city of London, Simon thought, but he has no power over my father. The only person who had power over the Earl of Welbourne was the king, and Simon hardly thought the king would be interested in his personal problems.

  Simon closed his eyes and prayed with all his heart: Please, God, let my father allow us to go to Ireland. When he opened his eyes again, Claire was looking at him anxiously. He smiled at her and took her small, elegant hand into his.

  “Don’t worry, Simon,” she said. “It will be all right. I get these feelings once in a while – Da says it’s the Irish in me – but they always come true. We’ll be all right, Simon. I just know it.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Simon said, and tried to wipe the nervous look from his face.

  # # #

  They stopped once for something to eat and were in Newmarket by early afternoon. By the time the carriage was rolling down the lane that led to the O’Rourke’s cottage, Simon could no longer hide his anxiety about meeting Claire’s father.

  What would Liam say? Simon knew Claire’s family had never suspected the true relationship between their daughter and the boy they had treated like a son. They had believed the two regarded each other as siblings, and Simon had to admit that he and Claire had done everything possible to foster that misunderstanding.

  He had deceived the one man in the world he loved and admired. The man who had always stood by him, who had been the only father he had ever known. Liam would think Simon h
ad betrayed him, and Simon wouldn’t blame him if he did.

  It would hurt Simon to his very soul if Liam turned on him. But even should that happen, Simon wasn’t sorry for what they had done. Claire and he belonged together, and nothing could ever change that. Even if Liam hated him, he would not have done things differently.

  Next to him Claire slid to the front of her seat and said happily, “We’re here!”

  Simon looked at her glowing face. She at least had no doubts about her reception. The blame for what they had done wouldn’t fall on her. Nor should it. Simon knew he was the responsible party, and so would the O’Rourkes.

  “Look, Simon,” Claire said. “There’s Mama!”

  Simon glanced out the window and saw Elise, scissors in hand, standing next to the neat row of irises that marched across the front of the cottage.

  “Wait until the horses stop and Jeffries can open the door for you,” Jarvis said sharply, as Claire looked about to jump out of the carriage.

  The horses stopped, Claire opened the door and jumped out. “Mama,” she cried. “We’re home!”

  Elise dropped the scissors she had been holding and came running toward the coach. Claire ran toward her as well, and the two of them came together in a tight hug.

  “Claire!” Elise kept saying. “It’s you! It’s really you!”

  “It’s so good to see you, Mama!” Claire pulled away so she could look into Elise’s face. “I hope you weren’t too worried. Simon did send you a letter. You got it, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, we got it, but of course we’ve been worried. Just imagining the two of you, all alone, heading for Scotland, was terrifying. On a public mail coach! I was petrified.”

  “Simon took good care of me, Mama,” Claire assured her. She finally turned and saw Simon standing quietly ten feet away. “Simon, come and say hello to Mama,” she said with a radiant smile.