The Earl of Pembroke: A League of Rogue’s novel

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The Earl of Pembroke: A League of Rogue’s novel Page 11

by Lauren Smith


  He cupped her cheek, and his smile changed to one of sorrow. “I know how you feel. I love my mother, but sometimes I feel the most awful weight of her care crushing me. And I think about how the woman she was, the woman I loved, is gone and there’s barely a shell left and I miss her. It makes me feel so bloody empty inside.”

  He paused, his voice catching. “Dr. Wilkes convinced me last week to send her to my estate in the country. He’s worried about her falling. I didn’t wish to, but she needs a safer place, one with fewer staircases. There’s a tightness in my chest when I think of it all. Makes it hard to breathe. The only time I ever forget my worries is when I’m with you. It’s like I can breathe again.” James’s earnestness tore at Gillian’s heart. She felt the same way about him.

  She moved up his body until they were nose to nose, and she kissed him, letting all of her sorrow, her joy, her everything flow from her lips to his. How could she deny this man anything? He was her world. For now.

  But perhaps for now was all she needed.

  9

  Letty Fordyce waited nervously in the entryway to the Earl of Morrey’s townhouse. A letter was inside her reticule, a letter full of salacious gossip, but Letty needed answers, and this was perhaps the one place she could get it.

  The butler appeared. “My apologies for the wait. His lordship will see you now.”

  Letty followed the servant to a room on the second floor. She entered the drawing room and was struck by the general attractiveness of the furnishings. The Earl of Morrey had fine taste. A figure rose from a chair as she came deeper into the room. The man was tall with dark hair and striking gray eyes that made her knees oddly weak as he smiled at her. His face was attractive too, quite so, but it was his eyes that held her attention. They so reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t quite place who it was.

  “Lady Letticia?” His voice was low and gentle, and the cadence of his speech held a hint of familiarity and intimacy that made her shiver. He spoke like a lover—not that she knew what a lover was supposed to sound like, but the ones in her fantasies sounded like this, smiled like this.

  Oh dear…

  “My lord, I’m terribly sorry to disturb you, as we’ve had no real acquaintance until this moment.” She tried to still the sudden flutter in her chest. When had a man ever made her feel so odd? Perhaps it was because it was her first time with the man and the awkwardness behind her errand—that must be it.

  “It’s quite all right. Please sit. Tell me why you’ve come. I admit your letter this morning was most intriguing. What it lacked in details it made up for with a sense of mystery.”

  She slid onto the couch, and he resumed his place in the chair facing her.

  “This will be quite an unpleasant question—at least I fear it might be. Do you know a woman by the name of Gillian Beaumont?”

  Morrey’s keen gaze suddenly softened. “Gillian?” He spoke the name softly, as if he’d been visited by a ghost of the past.

  “Yes. You see, my brother, the Earl of Pembroke, has recently formed a tendre for this woman. She said her name is Gillian Beaumont. I’ve never met her before, and she’s not one of the haute ton. You are the only Beaumont I know of. I thought perhaps she is a distant cousin or a relative from the country. I only wish to know more about her, in case my brother’s affections for her grow.”

  Morrey was silent a moment.

  “I know only one woman named Gillian Beaumont.”

  “And she is a relative?” Letty asked hopefully. She liked Gillian quite a bit, but a letter that had arrived that afternoon, addressed from an acquaintance, Venetia Sharpe, had raised some concerns. Venetia had implied that James and Gillian had been seen in an inappropriate amorous embrace in a very public setting.

  “No, not a cousin. She is, I believe, my late father’s illegitimate child.”

  “What?” Letty stared at Morrey, stunned by his frank answer.

  “I’m sorry, my lady. I should have answered with more tact. Hearing her name has left me shocked. You see”—he paused, his eyes serious—“I’ve been looking for her for several years now.”

  Letty’s grip tightened on her reticule. “You’ve been looking for her?” She didn’t understand.

  Morrey stood and walked over to the fireplace, bracing one hand on the mantle. “Despite the fact that our acquaintance is mere minutes old, I will confide in you, Lady Letticia, because I should like to enlist your aid.” He glanced at her, a rueful smile hovering about his lips. “My mother died when I was young and my sister was a mere child. My father’s loneliness was immense, and he sought comfort with a mistress, a woman named Elizabeth Brookstone. She was not of the peerage, but rather the daughter of a gentleman who’d fallen on hard times. As my father lay dying, he confessed the affair and the existence of a child, Gillian. He told me he had intended to leave them an unentailed property that had tenants, and it would have provided them with a small income, but he was too ill to summon his solicitor to make those changes. I tried to get a man to our house in time, but he didn’t arrive until an hour after my father passed away. While my father lay dying, he asked me to look after them. But in my grief following his death…” Morrey paused. “I failed. By the time I was ready to find them, my half sister and her mother were gone, and I had no information to find them. Word came to me that my father’s mistress had died and my sister had entered service, but I could not find her. I assumed all those years ago that she was going by the name of Brookstone like her mother, but now I know that she must have taken the name of Beaumont. It’s possibly my father insisted on that when she was born. I honestly don’t know.”

  “She went into service?” Letty asked.

  “Yes. As a lady’s maid.”

  Her brother was infatuated with a servant? It took a moment for Letty to comprehend this. But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Gillian had been nervous, tentative, hesitant, yet Letty and James had forced their initial interactions upon her.

  She tried to avoid us. She knew it was not proper, but we pleaded with her to come with us to Gunter’s and the bookshop. Letty could not fault Gillian for that deception, but how had she and James renewed their acquaintance at the Rochesters’ house party? Surely Gillian was not still masquerading as a lady?

  “You say you know where she is now?” Morrey left his vigil at the fireplace and came over to her.

  She had to lean back to look up at him. Lord, he’s tall. “I believe so, yes. She is at the country estate of the Marquess of Rochester.”

  “But you do not know where she will be after that?”

  Letty shook her head.

  Morrey sighed. “I know Rochester, but not well enough to show up at his house unannounced. Certainly not during a party.”

  “If my brother is”—Letty paused—“attached to her in some way, I’m sure he will know how to reach her. I could inquire for you.”

  Morrey clasped her hands in his, and she reveled in the heat of that touch. There was something about Morrey that enchanted her. It wasn’t simply the elegant line of his jaw or the luminous silver of his eyes. There was a hint of warmth in his face that suggested if he were to smile she would be utterly lost in his expression.

  “Please write to me once you know. I long to meet her, to fulfill my promise to my father.”

  Letty stared at their joined hands before he slowly released her.

  “It doesn’t bother you that she was born under such circumstances? That she has spent several years in service? Most men would wish to have nothing to do with her, imagining it looked poorly upon their family.” Letty hoped he was a man of his word and truly wished to help Gillian.

  Morrey’s lips thinned. “I cannot judge the girl for having been born. My father clearly cared about both the mother and the child. I am human enough to understand temptation and its consequences. If it had been me, I would want to someone to care for the woman I loved as well as any children, no matter the circumstances of their birth.” He smiled slightly.
“If I have a second sister out there, I wish to know her.”

  Letty’s throat tightened. “That’s incredibly noble of you.”

  He chuckled. “Noble? I would rather hope it makes me human. Lord knows I’m nowhere near as noble as I wish to be.”

  “I will write as soon as I have news,” she promised.

  Morrey escorted her to the front door of his home but caught her hand before she could leave.

  “Is your brother in love with my half sister?” he asked.

  “I believe so.”

  “And she loves him?”

  Letty shrugged. “I could not say. She swore at our first meeting that she had no designs upon him. So for them to be together at the house party is puzzling.”

  Morrey seemed to sense her thoughts. “You do not approve of the match?”

  “It’s not that I disapprove, but he does not know her—he doesn’t know her past or her circumstances. A relationship needs truth to survive. And I fear the situation would harm James’s standing. We are of a noble house, and we can weather some scandal, but I’m not sure we could weather him marrying a lady’s maid. In fact, what I question most is her motives if she continues a charade like this, if that is indeed what is happening. Once I know more, I can form a better opinion. I would hate to rush to judgment, but my brother James is too kindhearted. I won’t let a fortune-hunting servant take advantage of that kindness if she has no real feelings for him.”

  “I understand.” Morrey studied the street behind her for a moment before he looked back to her. “I hope something might work out if they do indeed love each other.”

  “As do I, Lord Morrey, as do I.”

  Letty did not wish to deprive anyone of love, but a scandal could destroy more than just James and Gillian’s reputations. It could destroy Letty’s future as well.

  Three glorious days had passed at the house party, and Gillian had never been happier. She ignored the whispers in the back of her mind that it would all have to end and instead focused on the present. She and James were seated in the library, reading side by side, her right hand entwined with his. The rest of the guests were spread across the house and grounds, spending their free time as they wished. Gillian had tried to tempt James back to bed, but he merely laughed and told her that even the worst rogues didn’t do such things until after nightfall. She sensed he was teasing her, but she was uncertain how to tease him back. She wished she could be as carefree as he was, to see the world with such promise. But the reality of her circumstances would catch up with her all too soon.

  James leaned over and kissed her cheek, and the soft pressure of his mouth on her made her shiver. She leaned closer to him.

  “Perhaps we might make use of my bed after all.” He chuckled, but then he froze, looking toward the window behind them.

  “What is it?” She started to turn, but James was already getting to his feet.

  “A rider just came to the house. A rider wearing the livery of my family.”

  She followed him as he strode to the library doors and hurried into the corridor.

  Why would a rider come here from Pembroke? It was a two-hour journey by horse, according to James.

  Gillian stilled as James reached the entrance hall ahead of her, just as a Rochester footman opened the front door. She could think of only one reason why a rider would come here. A very terrible reason. Gillian rushed down the corridor to reach James as he was handed a letter by the messenger. James tore open the wax seal and unfolded the parchment, his eyes scanning the hastily scrawled lines before he suddenly staggered, catching himself against the wall by bracing against it with one hand.

  “James, what’s happened?” She reached him, clutching his other arm to support him. He swallowed hard and blinked, his eyes overly bright.

  “My mother…she’s dying. I must leave at once.”

  Gillian could feel his pain as though it were her own. “Dying?”

  “She has pneumonia. Dr. Wilkes said she is fading fast. There isn’t much time.” His hands shook as he pocketed the letter.

  There was no way he could ride in this condition alone, but he wouldn’t stay here, either.

  “I will go with you. I could have a coach called around,” she suggested.

  James shook his head. “There isn’t time for a coach. I must ride—it’s far quicker. And you mustn’t leave. It wouldn’t be proper for—”

  “Hang propriety. Why must things always be so complicated with the nobility? She’s your mother and you love her, and I love you, so I must go with you.”

  She almost clasped her mouth. Had she said that aloud? He turned to her, stunned for a moment, and grabbed her by the shoulders. “You love me?”

  There was no point in denying it. “I do, but now isn’t the time for such declarations. We must leave immediately.”

  The pain in his gaze cut her, but she didn’t waver. When you loved someone, you faced your dragons and did your best to slay them.

  “Bring around two horses,” James told a waiting footman, and the lad rushed off. She and James went outside to wait, and thankfully they didn’t have to wait long.

  Two grooms came into view outside with a pair of horses. Gillian spoke quickly to a footman she knew named Will.

  “Tell Audrey everything that has happened. And apologize to his lordship for us taking his horses. We will see them returned as soon as possible.”

  “Of course. Be careful!” Will said and rushed back into the house.

  Gillian mounted her horse with the aid of a groom, hitching her skirts high above her knees. Damn the consequences.

  James mounted his and checked to see how Gillian was faring. “Ready?”

  She nodded. “I’ll keep up, I promise.”

  They rode at such a blinding pace that Gillian struggled to breathe. Dusk crept along the skies, stealing the light bit by bit. Gillian feared they would lose the light before they reached James’s home, but luck prevailed. They rode along a gravel drive that led up to a beautiful castle. Early moonlight lit their way as she and James passed the gardens and halted at the stone steps that led up to a set of large oak wooden doors. Gillian slid out of her saddle, her legs and back aching with the hours in the saddle and the tension of the situation. A footman rushed out to meet them.

  “Where is she?” James asked.

  “The China room. Dr. Wilkes and Lady Letticia are with her.”

  James slipped past him into the hall. Gillian followed behind. She had but a moment to glimpse the beautiful world that James called home, the Flemish tapestries, the marble statues, and the thick oriental carpets. He was almost running as he reached the door and flung it open. Gillian was right behind him but froze at the sight of his mother lying in bed. Dr. Wilkes and Letty hovered nearby, both of them staring in surprise at her and James.

  “You came.” Letty choked out the words and rushed to embrace her brother.

  Gillian’s throat tightened, and she slipped back out into the hall. If he needed her, he would call for her, but she would not intrude on something so personal unless asked to. But she would wait for as long as he needed her to, and she would be there for him.

  10

  James knelt at his mother’s side, clutching her hand. Her breath was shallow and her eyes glassy, but she turned her head his way when he came into the room.

  “My boy.” The words escaped her lips in a faint whisper.

  “I’m here, Mother, I’m here.” He brushed his knuckles over her cheek, feeling the fever that met his fingertips. His body and soul filled with a bone-deep dread.

  “Where’s your father?” his mother asked. “I want to see him.”

  James’s heart bled. His mother still couldn’t remember, couldn’t move past that period of her life when his father had still been alive.

  “He’s—he’s out hunting, Mother. I’m sure he’ll be back shortly.” For the hundredth time he wished that his father really was out hunting, that he had never died. Another sob escaped Letty as she got down o
n her knees on her mother’s other side and buried her face in the bedding.

  “Letty,” their mother murmured, stroking her hand over Letty’s dark hair. “I think your father is late…” Lady Pembroke sounded amused, despite her fatigue. “Probably stopped to rest at the hunting lodge…” Her eyes suddenly brightened, and James clutched her hand tighter. “I should go and find him. Sometimes he likes it when I come to fetch him…” She smiled weakly, her eyes fixed on something he would never see, and then the light faded, her lids closed, and she peacefully slipped away.

  James watched, his heart shattering as he stared at his mother. It looked as though she was merely sleeping.

  Letty began to weep. Dr. Wilkes came over to the bed, lifting Lady’s Pembroke’s wrist. Then after a moment he carefully set it back down and gave a heavy sigh.

  “My lord, I’m so very sorry.” Dr. Wilkes came over to him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. James could barely hold in the pain. He wanted to shout, to rage, to obliterate the silence around him. He stared hard at his mother’s face, got to his feet, and pulled Letty to him. He gripped his sister tight, wishing he could absorb her pain into himself.

  “It’s all right,” he said and kissed the crown of her hair. But it wouldn’t be all right. They had lost their mother too early, just as they had their father. And he hadn’t been there, hadn’t been watching out for his mother. He had been at some silly house party.

  When Letty finally quieted in his arms, she pulled back to look up at him, her eyes red and her face shining with tear streaks.

  “James, I—” She bit her lip, holding back.

  “Why don’t you go to your rooms and rest. I will take care of Mother now,” he promised.

  She nodded, still shaking as she left the room. He turned to face Dr. Wilkes, his mind and heart blissfully numb for now. He would have to face his pain soon enough, but he needed to keep his composure for just a while longer.

  Gillian tensed as Letty emerged from the room. Their gazes locked.

 

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