by Ava Stone
“No, sir. Not her ladyship, but you see…well, you have guests, my lord.”
“Guests?” Robert thrust his cane and hat into Phelps’ waiting arms and then flew up the staircase—two steps at a time—until he reached the landing. He could still hear the squeals coming from down the hallway. Then he heard whimpering and splashing. What the devil?
Robert tapped lightly and then pushed the door open to one of his guest bedrooms. In the middle of the fashionably attired chamber sat a copper tub with two long-faced, freckled children looking like wet mutts submerged in soapy water. Lydia was kneeling and bent over the tub, lightly scrubbing the little girl’s tangled mass of hair. “Almost done, dear,” she cooed softly.
Then the little girl blew soap bubbles across the room with a giggle. “Penny!” Lydia’s voice was melodic as she dipped her finger into the soapy water and dropped a dollop of bubbles on the child’s nose.
For a moment Robert couldn’t move. He just stood dumbfounded in the doorway, taking in the sight before him. Then the older child, who appeared to be a boy, looked at him. It was definitely time to make his presence known. “Lady Masten!” he barked sharply. “What in God’s name is going on in here?”
His voice startled her and Lydia’s hand slipped from the edge of the tub, dousing her bodice with soapy water in the process. She jerked to her feet and met Robert’s outraged eyes. “Masten, you’re home? I was hoping to have the children ready before you returned.”
Though he didn’t know what precisely was going on here, he knew in the marrow of his bones that he wasn’t going to like it. Lydia looked nervous, and she was chewing the bottom of her lip.
“I want a word with you. Now!” Robert didn’t even look to see if she followed him, but turned on his heel and waited impatiently in the corridor. He didn’t have to wait long.
Lydia slinked into the hallway with an anxious expression. “Yes, Masten?”
“I am waiting for an explanation, my lady.”
With a respectful nod, Lydia clasped her hands demurely—which had Robert immediately suspicious, as she’d yet to be either respectful or demure in his presence. “Of course. Caroline and I went to the market at Covent Garden—”
“Come now! I can’t say I’ve ever been to the market, my dear, but I don’t for one moment believe that you can pick children up there like a basket of fruit.”
At this, Lydia stood proudly and met his eyes with a somber expression. “I’m trying to give you the explanation you’ve asked for.”
“By all means.”
“Well, you see, Caroline’s reticule was taken and I chased after the thief—”
Was she serious? Something could have happened to her! He was surprised to discover that thought made his heart pound heavily in his chest. “Good God, woman, are you mad? You could’ve been hurt.”
“Please, Masten—” she gestured dismissively— “it was just a child.”
“A child? A child!” he roared and pointed to the closed door. “One of those children?”
Lydia stepped up to him, put a calming hand on his chest, and looked pleadingly into his eyes. “Please keep your voice down, Masten. I don’t want the children frightened. They’ve been through enough as it is.”
With her this close, Robert was assailed by her soft scent of gardenias—which was probably the only thing keeping him from losing his temper altogether. She smelled delightful. He shook off the effect she had on him. “What are those children doing in my home?”
Lydia stared at his chest and smoothed his jacket back into place. “Well, congratulations, Masten. They’re your new ward.”
Ruthlessly, he grabbed her wrist and tugged her into the wall of his chest. “I don’t think I heard you,” he hissed. “Try again.”
“Let me go!” Lydia wrenched her arm free and glared up at him, her blue eyes alit with fire. “Just this morning you told me you wanted children.”
He was going to strangle her. She was intentionally being obtuse. “That is not what I meant and you know it.”
“Well, I certainly didn’t plan on coming across Petey and Penny, but I did. And they need a safe place. And since you are suddenly so intent on wanting children—”
“My own children, damn you.”
“Yes, well, it still remains to be seen if you’ll get your wish in that regard, doesn’t it? In the meantime, it wouldn’t kill you to be nice to your ward.”
“Those urchins aren’t my wards!”
Lydia took a step back from him and folded her arms across her chest. “They are if you intend to get my cooperation with your little plan. If not, I’ll be happy to take them with me and return to James and Bethany.”
She thought to blackmail him? Robert began to see red, and he could feel his face heating up. When he had forced her under his roof, he had no idea that she’d turn his life and home completely upside down in less than a day. It was well past time for her to realize that he was her husband and his word was law. “Oh, no! Don’t you for one moment believe you can manipulate me into letting you go, my dear wife. I need my heir and you’ll give him to me.”
“Masten,” she said, her voice soft but steady, “it is important for me to watch after these children. I don’t expect you to understand that. But since you’re so intent on stashing me away in the country, I am asking you to let me take them with me. They won’t be a moment’s worth of trouble for you.”
That sounded like the most ridiculous thing Robert had ever heard. Before he could form his retort, Mrs. Hodges, his portly housekeeper, rounded the corner with an armful of clean towels. She stopped in her tracks when she saw the earl and countess glaring at each other and cleared her throat.
Lydia smiled at her sweetly. “Oh, Mrs. Hodges, thank you. Would you mind waiting with Petey and Penny for a moment? I’ll be there shortly.”
“Not at all, milady.” As the housekeeper entered the bedroom, Lydia turned her attention back to her husband.
When Lydia had smiled at the elderly housekeeper, her face lit up with joy. That smile warmed Robert’s heart. She was stunning in general, but when she smiled she was the most beautiful creature in the world. It was then that he realized he wanted to make her happy. If that meant taking two little imps into his home…well, so be it. He had the room.
“You shouldn’t be bathing them,” he said brusquely. “Countesses don’t do such things, my dear. That’s what servants are for. I’ll see to it that a nurse and a governess are hired for the little scamps.”
When her eyes sparkled with joy, his heart flipped in his chest.
“This is your home as well, Lydia,” he continued in a softer tone. Her eyes widened in surprise. He’d never called her by her Christian name, and he was as surprised as she was to hear it fly from his mouth. Robert cleared his throat. “I do want you to be happy here.”
“Thank you, Masten.” She smiled again and his heart raced.
“You’re welcome, Lydia.” It was much easier to say the second time. “And it’s Robert…or Rob, if you prefer. Time to stop being so proper, don’t you think?”
“As you wish, Robert.”
Hearing his name on her lips was the most melodic sound he’d ever heard, and he couldn’t help grinning like a fool. That wouldn’t do. He couldn’t let her know how besotted he was quickly becoming—she’d use it to her advantage and he’d be lost for sure. With that in mind he steadied his voice. “See to it that those children don’t upset life here.”
“Of course.” Lydia turned away from him, stepped back into the room that harbored the children, and shut the door behind her.
Robert stood in the hallway, staring at the closed door. He wasn’t quite sure why making his wife happy was suddenly so important.
***
When Lydia re-entered the room, she found three sets of anxious eyes focused on her. She squared her shoulders and made her way back to the tub.
Petey spoke first, “That bloke don’ wan’ us ‘ere, miss.”
Mrs. Hodge
s drew herself up proudly. “That bloke is the Earl of Masten and this here is Lady Masten. You will address them properly while you’re in this house.”
Properly chastised, Petey’s eyes dropped to the floor, “Yes, ma’am.”
Lydia took one of Mrs. Hodges’ towels, picked Penny up out of the water, and began to dry the child off. “Don’t worry about his lordship, Petey. He has agreed to let you and Penny stay with me in the country.”
“Gor, miss—my lady, we’ve never been t’ the coun’ry.”
Lydia passed Penny to Mrs. Hodges to be dressed, and with a fresh towel she dried Petey off. “Well, I think you’ll like it there. Plenty of open space to run around and play, and horses to ride, and—”
Petey’s face paled. “’orses?”
Lydia nodded and handed him a clean set of clothes. “Lord Masten owns one of the top stables in the country. Have you ever ridden a horse?”
“No, miss—I mean Lady Masten, I don’ like ’orses.”
“You don’t?” Lydia looked at him in surprise. “Well, there are plenty of other fun things to do in the country. Now hurry up and get dressed, and I’ll present you to his lordship.”
Half an hour later, Petey and Penny were clean and in the parlor, dressed in the clothes Caroline had already sent over. With the exception of Petey’s bruised eye, they hardly resembled the little urchins Lydia had plucked off the street at Covent Garden. Mrs. Hodges had cut Petey’s unruly hair, while Lydia had braided Penny’s. It was amazing what a warm bath and a new set of clothes could do for someone. “Well, milady, they look like proper little children,” Mrs. Hodges had gushed.
Now standing at attention to be inspected by the Earl of Masten, Penny nervously chewed her bottom lip while Petey anxiously held his breath. Robert stood before them and let his eyes fall on his two young wards. He nodded at the lad. “What is your name, my boy?”
“P-Petey ‘arris, sir.”
“Peter Harris?” Robert asked with his brow raised.
“Yessir.” Petey gulped.
“I like Peter better.” He turned his attention to the little girl to Petey’s side. “And you, miss. What is your name?”
Without hesitation the little girl met his stony gaze and smiled. “I’m Penny, yer lor’ship.”
“And is that short for something? Penelope perhaps?”
The girl giggled at that and shook her head. “No, sir.”
“Pity.” Robert clasped his hands behind his back and began to walk around the room. “Well, Peter and Penny, my wife tells me that you’d like to go to the country with her.”
Petey stood stoically, but Penny nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, sir,” the girl stated. “But Petey don’t wanna ride any ‘orses.”
That comment took Robert off guard. Who didn’t want to ride a horse? He looked back at the boy. “How old are you, Peter?”
“Seven, sir.”
“Seven? And you don’t like horses?”
“No, sir.”
The child was obviously frightened. Robert could see it in his eyes. He made a mental note about the fact. It wouldn’t do for a child to grow up in the country and be afraid of horses. That’s how one got around from place to place. Besides, it would never do for the Earl of Masten’s ward to be afraid of horses. “I see. And the two of you are agreeable to staying with Lady Masten?”
The little girl’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, we like ‘er ladyship. She saved Petey from gettin’ walloped, she did.”
“Walloped?” Robert’s brow furrowed as he leveled his gaze on his wife in the corner of the room.
Lydia smiled. “There might have been a man I saved Peter from in the alley.”
Robert’s frown deepened. Damn her, she was trouble. And what frightened him to his core was that she just might be worth it.
***
No one had ever depended on Lydia for their welfare before. It warmed her heart to see looks of love and devotion in Petey and Penny’s eyes whenever they saw her. She was determined to give them the life that she’d never had. One that didn’t include her vicious father. One that didn’t involve throngs of different men traipsing in and out of her mother’s bedchambers. But one that was happy and safe.
What would it be like to care for a child of her own?
She made her way down the hallway toward the nursery to check in on the children, to make sure they were comfortable in their surroundings. When she stuck her head inside the room, she nearly gasped at the unexpected sight before her.
With an old book resting on his knee, Robert sat next to Peter’s bed. The boy was fast asleep, snoring lightly, but Penny was curled up in the earl’s lap and holding on to his neck cloth with her tiny hands. He whispered something to the child, and though Lydia couldn’t hear what it was, the smile on the little girl’s face made her wistful.
What a lovely scene of domesticity they all made.
~ 5 ~
Robert breakfasted alone, just as he’d dined alone the night before. Neither event was to his liking. Though he had his wife under his roof, she wasn’t yet a part of his life. She’d spend the previous evening with the little scamps who had invaded his home, and this morning she was in the schoolroom—he hadn’t remembered that he even had one—with Mrs. Hodges preparing the space for the children. He’d made it very clear that they wouldn’t be staying in London long, but Lydia had insisted the room be operational while they were in Town.
He now sat—alone—in the library at his club, wearing a frown and reclining in an overstuffed leather chair. Ever since he’d spotted Lydia at his sister’s ball, he’d been obsessed with getting her alone. She was his wife after all, damn it. It should have been easy.
But she’d spent the first day in Berkeley Square sulking in her chambers, then racking up exorbitant charges at some French modiste, and finally procuring orphaned street urchins and installing them in his house. She had saved no time for him, and Robert was getting bloody well annoyed at that.
He’d given her time to sulk—that need was understandable. He had taken charge of her life and she needed time to adjust. Then he hadn’t even batted at eye when the bill had arrived from Madam Fournier this morning. If he wasn’t mistaken, his sister had charged a fair amount to him as well. He also hadn’t complained when she’d spent every last waking hour fawning over his new wards. And how the devil had she talked him into that situation? Unfortunately, he knew the answer to that question. When she’d smiled at him, he would have given her anything. How infuriating that was for him to realize—he’d never thought of himself as soft before.
And as he sat wallowing in self-pity, one thing was becoming perfectly clear to Robert—he needed to spend time with his wife. Alone. But how was he to orchestrate that?
He had just downed what was left of the whiskey in his glass, when the Earl of Clayworth’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Rob?”
Robert stood in greeting and nodded to his friend. “Afternoon, Bren.”
Brendan took a seat opposite Robert’s with a reluctant smile. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually show today.”
Robert shrugged and fell back into his seat. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well now that your lovely wife has taken you back—”
“Taken me back!” What drivel was this? And from Brendan, of all people, who knew the whole sordid story in detail.
“Well, that’s the word about Town. Thought you might want to know.” Bren tossed that morning’s Mayfair Society Paper into Robert’s lap.
Robert scanned the society rag. There was a blurb about Viscount S, who had reportedly exaggerated his war injuries to garner the sympathy from one of the Almack’s patronesses; a mention of Lord B, a noted fortune hunter, who seemed to be taken with the Duke of L’s horse-faced daughter; and then he saw it.
Speaking of horses, one can only wonder what the young, beautiful, and vivacious Lady M sees in her often staid, sometimes ruthless, and always horse-mad husband. However, it has not passed this author’s notice, nor that
of society in general, that her ladyship has apparently taken the equine-loving earl back into her heart. Mourning has started in clubs all across St. James Street, as many young bucks lament the loss of the beautiful countess to her own husband.
Robert re-read the column. Staid! Ruthless! Horse-mad! Well, all right he was that last one. He crumpled up the blasted paper and tossed it into the open grate, watching as it burst into flames.
Lydia had been in his life for less than three days and he was already in the gossip columns. Luckily the author hadn’t spoken to Caroline, or else the term beast would have been added to his litany of sins. What would be reported in the next column? Ruthless Lord M opens orphanage for pint-sized pick-pockets? The faster he got Lydia and their wards into the country, the better.
Wait, wait, wait! What was that bit about young bucks lamenting the loss of the beautiful countess? The devil could take them all!
***
Lydia was pleased that Caroline had sent over a nurse for the children. Mrs. Norris was a plump, kind-faced, elderly woman, and Petey and Penny were won over almost instantly—though Lydia was certain the two pieces of wrapped lemon candy the nurse brought with her had eased the way. Still, the woman seemed to have a warm heart which was, in Lydia’s mind, the most important thing.
With the children and nurse now installed in the schoolroom on the top floor, Lydia suddenly found herself alone in the parlor. Before she arrived at Masten House, she had been engrossed with the Mary Brunton novel, Self-Control. Everyone was talking about it in Town. While Lydia thought to herself that she should have been able to relate to the story’s beleaguered heroine, who had been kidnapped, she was having a difficult time focusing on the book.
