by Cheryl Holt
The driver called to the horses, and the coach rolled away. Veronica leaned out the window and complained, “It was all Gertrude’s mischief! Every bit of it! Tell Sebastian for me. Gertrude made me do it!”
Then the vehicle disappeared out the gate. The rattle and noise faded, and Ophelia dawdled for a moment, the significance seeping in, then she spun toward the house. It would be her house now. She would live in it. She would have the independent existence she’d always dreamed of having.
Her brother had offered it to her, and she had gladly accepted. If another waif ever showed up on her stoop, he wouldn’t be turned away.
She glanced to the upper floors, and Sebastian was standing in the window, gazing down on the proceedings. He’d watched Veronica’s departure from up above, being too livid to participate. What would his presence have accomplished anyway?
He’d let Ophelia handle it, and she’d handled it well.
“One down, one to go,” she murmured.
She nodded, indicating it was over, and he nodded too. They were siblings, and it seemed they would learn how to act like it after all.
* * * *
“Sit down, Mother.”
Gertrude tarried in the door to the library. She studied her son, conflicted over what bearing to project. Should she grovel? Should she flatter? Should she unleash her fury?
What attitude would be most likely to calm his temper so he’d head back to Hero’s Haven and leave her in peace?
Her diabolical husband had bequeathed everything to her son, with the caveat that Sebastian utilize his inherited assets to take care of his mother. The angry oaf could impose any penalty, and she would have no recourse.
After spending three days locked in her bedchamber, she’d been abruptly summoned to confer with his grand self. She was spitting mad, but she didn’t dare display any outrage.
He was seated behind the desk—her desk—and he’d definitely made himself at home. He’d been through the drawers, and her personal papers were scattered on the desktop. She bit her tongue over the invasion of her privacy, and she walked over and sat in the chair across from him.
“You asked to see me?” she evenly said.
“I’ve found Noah and Petunia,” was his opening salvo.
She blanched, unable to hide a reaction. “I have no idea to whom you refer.”
“Nice try, but you have no secrets from me so don’t bother lying.”
“Fine. I’m aware of who they are, and I have no comment.”
“Indentured servitude? Really? That was your ploy? Seven years—where they might have been worked to death like slaves? What is wrong with you?”
“Your father had numerous bastards.”
“So I’ve discovered.” He motioned to the documents he’d pulled from her files.
“I arranged for them to have jobs, to train as apprentices, to get a firm start in life.”
“By selling them to strangers? By sending them out of the country to an unknown fate?”
“What awaited them here in England? Poverty? Starvation? Death on the streets at a young age? Even though I had no responsibility to any of them, I helped them. I won’t be castigated for it.”
“We’re very rich,” Sebastian said. “If I live to be a thousand, I couldn’t fritter away our money. We could have assisted these children in a genuine and compassionate way. You didn’t have to sell them. You did it merely because you’re malicious and spiteful.”
“No, I did it because your father was an immoral wastrel who was constantly traveling, and I was left behind to clean up his messes.”
“His natural children were his messes?”
“Yes. They are a stain on my marriage, a stain on your father’s legacy, and a humiliation for our family.”
“I’m sorry that’s your opinion.”
“What would you rather I’d done with them?” she asked. “Would you have liked to have them strutting about London and declaring their paternity? You toiled valiantly to ensure Sir Sidney’s reputation was preserved during the inquest. Don’t pretend you disagree with these measures. Not when you were so recently worried about the very same ones.”
“I won’t debate the issue with you.”
“These two latest urchins will thrive in America,” she said. “They’ll have good endings. You needn’t fret. I retain a very reliable company.”
He stared at her as if she was babbling in a foreign language. “I guess I wasn’t clear. I found them and rescued them.”
“What are you saying?”
“At this very moment, they’re upstairs. Ophelia is with them, and the servants are tending them.”
“I don’t consent to this!”
“It’s not up to you.”
“This is my home!” she fumed. “I haven’t given my permission.”
“Apparently, we have to review the facts again. This is my home. Not yours. Stop acting as if you’re in charge. You’re not.”
“I demand to speak with my housekeeper! I demand that she remove those waifs at once.”
He rolled his eyes. “Talking to you is like talking to a wall.”
“If I am such a burden, you needn’t dawdle in town. You’re welcome to depart for the Haven immediately.”
“Tell me about Miss Robertson. Tell me how you coerced her into fleeing.”
The change of topic was so swift that she felt dizzy. “Miss Robertson? Why on earth would we discuss her?”
“Veronica claimed you concocted the plan to evict her.”
Gertrude bristled. “She did, did she?”
“So you have one chance to confess your perfidy. If you refuse to be candid, it will only go harder on you in the end.”
“You’re treating me as if I’m a criminal on my way to a jail cell.”
He slapped a palm on the desktop, the sound echoing off the ceiling so loudly that she flinched.
“Tell me what you did!” he commanded.
She sniffed with annoyance. “Veronica and I simply reminded her that you were promised to another. She took great umbrage at the notion that you’d been lying to her about your situation, and she packed her bags and scooted out the door.”
“That’s your story?”
“It’s not a story. It’s what happened, and I have no idea why you’re in such a snit about it. She was a totally inappropriate person for you to know. We’re lucky she ran off without a protest.”
“I proposed marriage to her.”
Gertrude waved away his remark. “Yes, I read the note you penned to her, and I can’t imagine what possessed you. I saved you from making the biggest mistake of your life. You should be thanking me rather than scolding me.”
She was so angry and had been so terribly abused by him that her thought processes were a bit muddled. She probably shouldn’t have mentioned reading his note, but it was too late to retract the words.
A silence settled in, and it seemed to continue forever. He glared scathingly, and she couldn’t abide his derision. She was his mother, and he needed to be more respectful.
“Summon Veronica,” she said. “She’ll verify my statement about Miss Robertson. The mercenary tart couldn’t escape the Haven fast enough, and we weren’t about to prevent her.”
“Veronica is gone.”
Gertrude scowled. “Gone where?”
“She’s been sent home in disgrace. I’ve apprised her mother that she’s not to return to town for three years. I won’t have her dangling her dowry at any gullible young men until she’s matured.”
“Then how will we get your engagement to her accomplished?”
“I’m not marrying Veronica. I’m never marrying Veronica.”
“I’m your parent, and I chose her for you! You will wed her, and you will do it gladly.”
“No. I’ve decided to wed Sarah Blake—if she’ll have me.”
“Sarah…who?”
“Sarah Robertson Blake. I’m marrying her.”
“That…that…orphanage owner?” She tsked
with offense. “You are not.”
“She is half-sister to the Earl of Selby, so she’s suddenly quite a catch.”
“I wouldn’t necessarily believe her. Just because she’s boasting of a connection, that doesn’t make it true.”
He ignored her. “It’s a perfect conclusion, and it will work to patch up my quarrel with Nathan. He can’t detest me when I’m his brother-in-law.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t give you my permission. I will never give it.”
“I love her, and it’s not up to you.”
“Love, bah!” she spat. “Love is for idiots and fools. Let’s talk about important issues. What money does she bring to the table? What property? What’s the size of her dowry? Calculate them all, then we’ll determine whether she’s a suitable candidate.”
“I’m finished arguing about this.”
“If you had no intention of listening to me, why drag me down here?”
“I called you down merely to inform you that you’re leaving.”
“I’m not leaving,” she said.
“Yes, you are. For the next year, you will reside in a convent outside Edinburgh.”
“Are you mad? We’re not Catholics, and I wouldn’t lower myself to consort with a bunch of pious busybodies.”
“I view it as penance for the damage you’ve inflicted on so many people, and you should use the period to reflect on your conduct.”
“I’ve never harmed a soul.”
“After the year is up, you will travel to America to live with our cousins in Boston.”
She whacked a hand on her ear as if it had been plugged and she was clearing it. “What? I could swear you said I’m moving to America.”
“Ever since I learned how you dealt with Father’s natural children, I’ve been struggling to devise an equitable punishment.”
“I didn’t hurt those children. I helped them!”
“You should suffer the same fate. You should have to abandon all that’s familiar. You should have to journey to a foreign locale and wallow among strangers.”
“You’ve tipped off your rocker,” she said. “I’m sure of it.”
“The nuns will let you have one trunk of personal belongings, but they’ll search it for contraband so you’re not distracted from your solitude and prayers.”
“I’m not going to Scotland! I’m not going to America!”
“While we were chatting, I had your trunk packed. There’s a carriage in the driveway, and you’re departing in it.”
She was absolutely flabbergasted. Was he jesting? He had to be. Or perhaps he was attempting to frighten her. If so, he’d definitely succeeded! A woman had no power against a man, so she was completely alarmed.
She was Sir Sidney’s widow! She was one of the greatest ladies in the kingdom! She couldn’t be sent away. The very idea was absurd.
“Sebastian! You’re not doing this.”
“Yes, I am, and I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not. I’m marrying Sarah, so Noah and Petunia will be with us. There’s no room for you in that world. I don’t trust you, and you can’t have further chances to imperil them.”
“Why would I waste my energy? They’re nothing to me.”
“Well, they’re everything to me, and you can’t flit about on the fringe of the life I’ll build with them. I also can’t sit back and hope that no other of Father’s children skitters out of the woodwork. You’ll never sell another one of them into indenture.”
“What will you—in your infinite wisdom—do with them instead?” she snidely inquired.
“From now on, Ophelia will live here. If any child knocks on the door in the future, she’ll help them. She’ll really help them, and that’s how our family will behave from this point on. We won’t pretend they don’t exist.”
There were a thousand replies she could have hurled, but when she opened her mouth, what emerged was, “You’re giving Ophelia my home?”
“It’s not your home, and it’s never been your home.”
The comment fell between them like a death knell.
He stood and rounded the desk, and he lifted her to her feet. They started out, and she was so befuddled that she didn’t bother protesting. It was happening in an odd kind of slow motion, as if she was in the middle of a nightmare and couldn’t awaken.
They reached the foyer, and she glanced about for an ally who might intervene. Ophelia was up on the landing and staring down as if she didn’t know who Gertrude was.
“Ophelia!” she called. “Your brother is making me leave! Tell him he can’t treat me this way.”
“Goodbye, Mother,” was all her daughter said.
“Ophelia! Listen to me!”
“You shouldn’t have harmed my half-siblings. I’m very ashamed of you.”
“I don’t agree to this!”
Ophelia didn’t respond, and Sebastian simply yanked on her arm. “Don’t dawdle, Mother. You can’t avoid this fate.”
He marched her out, and before she could blink, he’d hefted her into a waiting carriage and shut the door behind her. He secured the handle with a piece of rope, tying an intricate knot so she couldn’t unravel it and climb out.
Two housemaids were already inside and impatiently watching for her to arrive. They were surly, younger girls who’d never liked her, and the notion of their being in charge of her was galling.
Sebastian leaned in the window. “The nuns will allow you to write me every quarter, but I wish you wouldn’t. We should let matters settle between us. I’ll visit you in a year, when it’s time for you to sail for America. I’ll put you on the ship myself.”
“Sebastian, stop it! Just stop!”
“Use the next year wisely, Mother. Try to find some peace. Try to atone.”
He stepped away and waved to the driver, and the vehicle lurched away.
“I’ve been kidnapped,” she told the maids. “You must release me. I demand it.”
“We’re not employed by you, Mrs. Sinclair,” one of them snottily replied. “We’re employed by Mr. Sinclair, and we take our orders from him.”
“It’s a long distance to Scotland,” the other said. “You should relax. We won’t tolerate you caterwauling the whole trip. If you annoy us, we have permission to gag you.”
* * * *
“Who may I say is calling?”
“Mr. Sebastian Sinclair. I am accompanied by my young brother, Noah Sinclair. We’re here to see Cuthbert Maudsen.”
“Please come in, Mr. Sinclair. Mr. Maudsen is expecting you.”
The butler showed them into the front parlor of the Maudsens’ country home. Mr. Maudsen was slouched on a sofa and drinking a brandy even though it was barely one o’clock in the afternoon. They’d never met, and the buffoon didn’t stand when Sebastian entered.
Sebastian wasn’t normally fussy about his position in the world, but the snub aggravated him enormously. He’d arrived ready to loath Maudsen, and the rude oaf had instantly provided a reason to detest him.
“Hello, Sinclair.” Maudsen started off the conversation by gesturing to the chair across. “Have a seat.”
“No, thank you.” Sebastian nodded to Noah. “Mr. Maudsen and I have a few issues to discuss. Why don’t you look around? Tell me if you think it will be sufficient for my plans. Count the bedrooms especially.”
Noah departed, and Maudsen frowned. “Where’s the boy going?”
“Don’t worry about him.”
Sebastian couldn’t decide if Maudsen was inebriated or simply lazy, but he didn’t order the butler to escort Noah, didn’t rise and stop him from snooping.
“What is it you want, Sinclair?” Maudsen inquired. “When your clerk contacted me and asked me to convene with you in the country, I was definitely intrigued.”
“You shouldn’t have been. I need to address a rather mundane issue.”
Maudsen smirked. “I hope I haven’t wasted an entire day at this rural pile of rubble over nothing.”
“After I declare my purpose,
I doubt you’ll feel it was wasted.”
Maudsen snickered. “Well, then, let me have it.”
Sebastian studied him, trying to picture him inflicting himself on Sarah, selling her father’s orphanage, forcing her to remove the children who’d lived there, evicting her afterward.
What must it have been like to have her sister and brother-in-law behave so hideously? What must it have been like to be all alone, with no allies or friends?
No, there had just been Cuthbert Maudsen, and the vain prick would deem it easy to terrorize and abuse a defenseless woman. Sebastian wondered how he’d fare when faced with a really angry, really powerful man who wasn’t afraid of anything. They were about to find out.
“I’m very wealthy,” Sebastian said.
“So I’ve heard. Your father was shrewd to glom onto those diamond mines of his.”
A flicker of excitement flared in Maudsen’s greedy eyes. He probably thought he was about to be offered some funds.
“You’re in debt all over England,” Sebastian bluntly stated.
Maudsen wrinkled his nose. “I don’t suppose my personal affairs are any of your business.”
“I’ve made them my business.”
It finally dawned on Maudsen that the appointment might turn out a bit worse for him than he’d imagined. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve bought up all your markers.”
Maudsen swallowed hard, then he regrouped and grinned. “Bully for you.”
“I require payment immediately.”
“I can’t…pay.”
“I know, but I’m requiring it anyway.”
Sebastian walked over to give him some legal documents. Maudsen refused to reach for them, so Sebastian grabbed his hand and wrapped his fingers around them.
“Consider yourself served,” Sebastian told him. “With my demand note, I’ve also included my notice that I have been apprised of your inability to compensate me in the amount I am owed.”
“Now see here, Sinclair! You’ve got some gall to stroll in and throw your weight around.” Maudsen sipped his liquor as he dropped the papers on the floor.
