“He believed you?”
“Why wouldn’t he? I meant it.”
Richard laughed. “Good for you!”
“And besides, I wasn’t denying him access to Mathew, far from it. I take Mathew to visit him every few weeks. In fact, we were packed to leave for one of those visits today, but then your friend found me, so I postponed the visit until tomorrow. But, suffice it to say, we’ve all decided to forget about that original altercation.”
“Even Father?”
“Father’s attitude changed that day, at least; he no longer tries to force his will on me. You could say he treats me with kid gloves now. I have a feeling you’re responsible for that, too. With one son gone, he’s realized that I could disappear, too. Mathew and I are the link that keeps the duke happy with the Allen family. Father doesn’t want to lose that. So as I said, we have an understanding, unspoken, but there nonetheless, to simply leave each other alone.”
“I’m—incredulous.”
“I’m not,” Ohr put in. “Everyone changes, and nine years is long enough for someone to change.”
Both brothers stared at Ohr, but then Charles chuckled. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. My father is still the tyrant he always has been. He just manages to control his overbearing nature when he’s around my son. Not that I would allow it, but not once has he ever tried to enforce his strict rules on the boy, or interfere with the way I’m raising him. And unlike the way Father treated you and I, Richard, I let Mathew make his own choices, and he makes them logically. He’s such a bright, caring child. He even loves both of his grandfathers, but then oddly enough, they’re both on their best behavior around him.”
Richard found it hard to believe that his father had changed for any reason, even for what sounded purely like self-interest. But the changes in his brother were definitely remarkable. Charles seemed to glow with happiness when he spoke of the boy.
“But enough about me,” Charles said. “Where on earth did you go? Another country? What have you been doing all these years?”
Richard, his eyes sparkling with laughter, glanced at Ohr before he gave his brother the toned-down version: “I became a sailor.”
Charles stared for a moment, then chuckled. “That’s probably the one thing I would never have imagined. You? But you had such a rebellious nature, I was sure you’d gone off to find other battles to fight. At the very least, doing something adventurous.”
Richard laughed. “What makes you think sailing can’t be adventurous? And I’m well pleased with my life. I’ve made such good friends, they’re like family to me now. I always have a place to sleep, food to eat, good companionship, and more women than I can count. What more could I want?”
“Children.”
That was a sobering thought, and of course now that Charles was a proud father, he would think of that. But Richard didn’t have to dwell on the matter to come up with an answer.
“I’d rather have children with a woman I love than with one who’s forced on me.”
Charles flinched. “I can’t argue with that. And you’re young. No special lady, though?”
“Yes—but she’s otherwise attached,” Richard mumbled so low that only Ohr heard him and rolled his eyes.
Charles said, “What?”
“I’m glad to know you aren’t still living in hell,” Richard said, changing the subject. “I was actually going to try to talk you into coming away with me, but it sounds like you’re quite content here now.”
“I am. But I’d be even more content if you told me you’re home for good.”
“That isn’t going to happen, and not just because I despise our father. I just found out I can still be roped in by that damned marriage contract he saddled me with. I really thought Julia Miller would have married someone else by now.”
“Father still won’t release her from the contract,” Charles said with a sigh.
“So I heard.”
“You’ve seen her?”
“Not intentionally. We had a run-in.”
“I saw her a few years ago m’self. She turned out to be quite a looker. Are you sure—?”
“You remember how it was with us?” Richard cut in. “It still is. She and I can’t be in the same room without becoming furious at each other. Besides, I refuse to make Father happy by giving him what he wants from that match.”
“It’s a shame you and she never got along.”
Richard shrugged. “It just wasn’t meant to be. But she’s taking steps to free us both, so I should warn you, don’t try to stop her.”
“From what?”
“Having me declared dead.”
Charles stared at him, a frown forming on his face. “You’re not joking, are you?”
“No.”
“But that’s—damn, Rich, that’s morbid. Don’t think I like that idea a’tall.”
“You don’t have to like it, just ignore it. Once it’s accomplished, Julia will be free to get on with her life, and I’ll be free to visit you more often.”
That didn’t remove his brother’s frown, but he did nod grudgingly.
Chapter Twenty-one
RICHARD DEAD? CHARLES COULDN’T get the ghastly thought out of his mind on the short ride back to Willow Woods. He’d been reluctant to cut short his visit with Richard. He’d really hated having to say good-bye. But he had to return home before dark or his father might send the servants out looking for him. Richard refused to stay in the area any longer so they could visit again tomorrow.
Charles detested the obstacles that were preventing his brother from really coming home, but the drastic measure that the Miller girl was utilizing to banish one of those obstacles was even more despicable. He was too superstitious to see it as anything other than a prediction, not the simple means to an end, as Richard and the girl did.
At home, he stopped by the earl’s study so Milton would know he was home, and to inform him of his change in plans.
Like the rest of the house, the study had grown shabby over the years because Milton lacked the funds to maintain their home or even keep a full staff of servants anymore. The old brown-and-gold wallpaper in the study was cracked in many places, the large oval rug that covered most of the floor was frayed at the edges. Only one extra chair was in the room. The other two had broken and were never replaced.
It wasn’t as if money didn’t regularly come in. They had good tenants. But Milton had too many old debts to settle and he used a good portion of his income to retire his debt to the duke since he couldn’t stand being indebted to him. He obviously expected Richard’s marriage to settle everything else. It wasn’t going to happen.
Standing in the doorway, Charles said, “I’ll be leaving in the morning for Mathew’s visit with the duke.”
Milton glanced up with an annoyed look from the letter he was writing at his desk. “You were to leave today. Why didn’t you?”
“I lost track of the time” was all Charles said.
It wasn’t a lie. As long as it wasn’t a lie, Charles had no trouble saying it. He wasn’t good at lying, never had been.
Charles started to turn away at the door, but with Julia Miller’s plan still weighing on his mind, he wanted to try a less drastic means to help his brother’s situation.
Before he lost the courage to do so, he said, “I saw the Miller girl recently.” Again, it was not a lie. Two years could be considered recent. “When are you going to release that poor girl from that marriage contract? She’s past the age to marry now, isn’t she?”
Milton set his quill down and gave Charles a hard look. “What does that matter? When Richard comes to his senses, they’ll be married.”
Charles’s expression turned sad. “Do you realize how many years have passed since he left?”
“Of course I know, to the bloody day,” Milton said, getting angry.
It was definitely a sore subject in this house. Since Richard had departed, Charles had never been able to mention Richard to their father without anger
ing him. But for once he had to ignore how uncomfortable that anger could make him feel.
“He’s no longer a boy, Father. If he hasn’t returned by now, he’s not going to. Give it up already, and let that poor girl get on with her life. That contract is useless as it stands.”
“It’s not useless, that’s the beauty of it. The Millers have already offered her dowry and more to get out of it. In five or ten more years I may have to accept that, but not yet.”
“She could just get fed up with all this endless waiting and marry someone else despite the contract, you know.”
Milton actually chuckled. “She won’t. If that were an option, her father would have publicly announced an end to it long ago—before he became incapacitated. A contract means everything in the world of trade, and that’s the Millers’ world. It’s a matter of their given word. You could even go so far as to say their reputation is on the line. For them to go back on a deal that is so well-known could ruin them.”
“Do you really think that will matter when you’re already ruining her life?”
“I’m doing nothing of the sort. She’s already reaped the benefits of being tied to our name, while I’ve reaped nothing yet. The ton accept her as one of their own, you know—because she’s bound to us through that contract. Besides, some children are actually dutiful and honor the obligations their parents arrange for them.”
Charles had done that. He’d married a foul-tempered woman he couldn’t stand, but not because he honored his father. Nothing about Milton Allen inspired honor, love, or even duty. Charles had done what he’d been told because at that tender age he’d feared this man sitting before him more than anything else.
“Neither of them wanted that match, or have you forgotten that they despised each other?”
Milton snorted. “That was when they were children. When Richard sees her now, he’ll change his tune. She turned out much prettier than expected, didn’t she?” Milton suddenly laughed. “This extra time is actually an advantage, because when he does come home, she’ll be so eager to finally have a husband, she’ll be running to the altar. Old maids are like that, you know.”
Charles felt disgusted by Milton’s heartlessness and his amusement at Julia Miller’s plight. Milton didn’t really care whom he hurt, as long as the money he expected to reap eventually filled his coffers. Richard had seen Julia—and still wouldn’t have her. Though, unfortunately, that had much more to do with the earl than it did with the girl.
Charles said stiffly, “He’d have to return for any of that to happen. I gave up hope that he would come home years ago. Why can’t you?”
“Nonsense,” Milton scoffed. “This is actually when Richard is more likely to come home, because enough time has passed that he’ll think the girl is married and no longer an issue.”
“Don’t count on it, Father. You were the issue. He won’t come home because of you!”
Milton suddenly frowned, Charles assumed because of his raised tone, until Milton demanded, “Do you know something that I don’t know? Have you seen him, Charles?”
“No—of course not. I—I’ve just been thinking about him more than usual—ever since I saw the Miller girl.”
Charles’s cheeks were flaming now. He turned away before Milton noticed and rushed upstairs.
Milton moved to the doorway and stared after his son’s rapidly departing figure. He was still frowning. He knew Charles. He knew his son was lying. He just found it hard to credit what his gut instinct was telling him. If Richard was back in England, wouldn’t he come here to gloat that he was his own man now, beyond Milton’s control? Of course he would.
Milton shook off the feeling. He just wasn’t used to seeing his docile son become so emotional unless it involved Mathew. If anything, Charles had probably been lying about the Miller girl. She must have come to appeal to Charles to convince Milton to hand over that contract, knowing full well she’d have no luck doing so herself. Stupid girl. She should be grateful that he was still holding tight to their connection. She had to know by now how many doors would close in her face without it.
As he turned back into his study, not quite satisfied with the conclusion he’d settled on, he caught sight of Olaf, coming down the hall stuffing a pastry in his mouth, and paused again.
He should probably have got rid of this servant long ago. He really had no use for such brute strength anymore, and a man that size made a rather ridiculous footman, which was all he was good for now. Olaf was the only one left of the three bruisers he’d hired so long ago when Richard had got too old for the switch. But having the men administer punishments might have been a mistake because it had only turned Richard more recalcitrant.
But that brute strength might just be necessary again.
After giving Olaf his orders, he sent a message off to Abel Cantel, the local magistrate, inviting him to dinner. It had been nearly half a year since he’d done so. He didn’t particularly like the fellow. But he’d planned ahead and cultivated a friendship with Abel soon after Richard had disappeared. He’d even gone so far, in the guise of a drunken stupor, of apprising Abel of Richard’s crimes. Abel had told Milton more than once that he’d toss Richard’s arse in jail when he came back. As soon as the earl gave him the word, it would be done. But Milton had found out that Abel had a brother who might be even more useful. But whatever course of action Milton took, Abel gave him options for the day Richard came home, and Milton liked having options.
Chapter Twenty-two
DINNER WAS LONG OVER. Charles and Mathew had retired directly afterward, since they were leaving early in the morning. Milton had taken Abel to his study for some brandy, but he was hard-pressed for an excuse to detain the man much longer.
Milton had ordered Olaf to start searching for Richard at the three inns closest to Willow Woods, then work his way toward London. Manchester was too far in the other direction, so at least they didn’t need to search there. If Richard had come north to see his brother, he might even be planning to journey east with Charles to Rotherham tomorrow, to extend that visit a little, so he could still be close by. But if not, the direct route back to London had to be canvassed. He’d given Olaf and the search party he’d been told to gather access to the best horses in his stable, including his own stallion. He wanted the search done quickly and without error, so they couldn’t split up, since only Olaf would recognize Richard if they encountered him.
Suddenly the door burst open and Olaf and the old gardener’s strapping son dragged a man into the room. Abel shot to his feet, startled at the intrusion. So did Milton. Could it be, finally? He moved quickly around his desk to make sure. The man was unconscious to go by the look of his hanging head and the long hair covering his face. Milton lifted the hair aside and drew in his breath. Richard.
Such triumph filled Milton he could barely contain it. Anger helped in that regard. Olaf was such an idiot! Charles could have been in the study, and that would definitely hamper how Milton could deal with Richard. But at last the rebellious whelp was back under his control!
He gave a moment’s thought to sending for Julia Miller to force the marriage immediately, but decided against it. That was too big a risk. The pastor who lived on Milton’s estate would of course comply, but the girl might cry foul if Richard was shouting that he wouldn’t have her. And with that damn competent legal team in her employ that had thwarted him before when he tried to get guardianship of her, he didn’t dare take that chance.
The two men dropped Richard on the floor at their feet. Richard’s hands were tied behind his back. He’d grown. A lot. A tall, strapping man was lying there, not a boy. His feet should have been tied, too. Milton didn’t want to take any chances on losing him again.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Abel demanded of the two servants.
“It would appear my recalcitrant son has wandered close enough to home to be found,” Milton replied, staring down in disgust at the appalling length of Richard’s hair.
“Richard?”
Abel said in surprise.
“Indeed, Richard. And look at this.” Milton bent down to yank the signet ring off Richard’s finger and put it back where it belonged, on his. “I’m amazed he still has this ring he stole from me. Not that I wasn’t forced to have it replaced, but this one was special, handed down through the centuries from the first Earl of Manford, and he knew that. Obviously he didn’t take it to sell, but as another means of flouting my authority and insulting me because he knew how much I valued it.”
“I can lock him up for that alone. You’ve just shown me the proof of it.”
Milton was gratified to hear Cantel reacting just as he’d hoped, but he was sure a spell in a local jail wasn’t going to convince Richard of anything. But before he discussed what would, he dismissed the gardener’s son.
Olaf started to leave with him, forcing Milton to snap, “Not you. You make sure the boy doesn’t bolt out of here the moment he wakes.” Milton then turned to the magistrate to remind the man, “My own son nearly paupered me with his gambling debts. Did I ever mention that? Twelve thousand bloody pounds! And enough witnesses to prove it!”
Abel nodded with some slight embarrassment. “One night when we’d had a bit too much to drink, I believe you did.”
“If the Duke of Chelter hadn’t bailed me out, I would be in debtors’ prison m’self right now. And I’m not even close to paying the man back.” Then, as if the thought had only just occurred to him, Milton asked, “Isn’t your brother a guard on one of the ships that transport convicts to the new penal colonies in Australia?”
Abel frowned. “He’s the captain, actually, but that’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”
“It’s a moot point if Richard has come home to do his duty. If he has, then all can and will be forgiven. But if he hasn’t, well, I wasn’t suggesting he be transported to such a place indefinitely. A few months and he’ll be ready to meet his obligations, don’t you think?”
“It takes more’n a few months just to get there, and some of the convicts don’t even survive the trip. If they do, the harsh conditions there usually break a man in the first few weeks. Are you sure you want to send your son there?”
That Perfect Someone Page 13
