by Holt, Cheryl
“You married?”
“Once. She died a year ago.”
“Were you happy with her?”
He scoffed. “We were barely acquainted. I met her when I debarked in the Canary Islands. I was very ill, and I hired her to nurse me. We grew close, but I was a sailing man and traveling was in my blood. I’d stop and see her whenever I was in that part of the world.”
“It must not have been much of a marriage.”
“It wasn’t. How about you? With your surname still being Farnsworth, you must have remained a spinster.”
“Yes—for you.”
“I can’t decide whether to be flattered or aghast. Did you ever consider marrying?”
“Never. I was scared I’d shackle myself to some dunce, then you’d stroll in. I wasn’t willing to risk it.” She sighed. “That’s quite deranged, isn’t it?”
He sighed too. “Yes, quite deranged, and I’m positive I wasn’t worth it.”
“You have a son? Will?”
“I have two. Will and Tom. Will is sixteen and Tom is twelve. He’s at Middlebury, helping out.”
“Will you stay in England? You brought Lord Middlebury home. Will you stay too?”
“It’s my plan. I’m too old to survive many more adventures, and my body is too worn out to work as hard as I’ve worked.”
She nodded, and they were silent for a bit, but it was a companionable silence. Though it was very odd, it seemed as if they’d never been separated, and despite the passage of decades, they could pick up where they’d left off. They were that type of friends.
“What now?” he ultimately asked. “I feel as if there’s magic afoot. It’s bizarre that you and I are both at Wallace Downs and that we’re connected through Hayden. I’m stunned that we have a child together. It’s a marvelous surprise.”
“Well, he’s a marvelous man. You should get to know him.”
“I intend to.”
“Fate has been directing my steps recently,” she said. “I had waited for you my whole life, but once Nicholas found me, I persuaded myself it was time to let you go.”
He snorted. “Which I’m certain was very wise.”
“But here you are anyway, so clearly, Fate is sending us an important message.”
“What might it be?”
“I have no idea, but perhaps we should figure it out.”
He linked his fingers with hers and squeezed tight.
* * * *
Desdemona arrived at her mother’s house. She’d been to the village in her new carriage. Jasper had bought it just as Henley was printing his notice in the newspapers. People had thought Jasper was still the earl, so he’d been able to drive off in it without having to pay up front.
It had been a terrible day, and she was exhausted, offended—and too dazed to climb out.
She’d spent several fruitless hours, trying to convince local shopkeepers to continue delivering supplies, but she’d been ceaselessly insulted and abused. She was in a furious temper, eager to lash out at Jasper whom she viewed as being too incompetent and distracted to stave off catastrophe.
He simply sat like a log at the dining room table, ignoring her and studying various atlases and maps, a hobby she’d never previously understood him to enjoy.
It was shocking how quickly her fortunes had reversed. Since reports of Henley’s return had been publicized, word had spread like wildfire that she and Jasper were broke and had no funds to square their debts.
Vultures were circling, smelling blood. Merchants were bluntly dismissive. Suddenly, they were drowning in legal summonses, from tailors and haberdashers, from dressmakers and jewelers, from wine and ale bottlers, from furniture makers and rug weavers.
Even a few employees were demanding back wages they were owed, and it boggled the mind that such common ingrates would dare to threaten her.
Jasper wasn’t concerned about their plight. He was content to dawdle until his cousin provided a settlement, but he didn’t realize that any money they might eventually receive would be instantly gobbled up by creditors. There would be no way to hide it or protect it. In a matter of months, they’d be beggared. Then what?
Desdemona had had the courage to murder Henley. She’d failed, but at least she’d tried. What had Jasper done to fix their dilemma? Nothing!
She was yanked out of her miserable reverie by someone pounding on the carriage door. Before she could reply, it was whipped open by a man she didn’t recognize.
“Mrs. Henley?”
She couldn’t bear to no longer be referred to as Lady Middlebury, and she almost declined to answer him, but why deny reality?
Churlishly, she said, “Yes, I’m Mrs. Henley.”
He clasped her arm and guided her out. He slapped a rash of papers into her hand.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but this vehicle is being repossessed.”
She blanched. “For what reason?”
He flashed a piteous look. “Must I spell it out?”
“Yes, I’m afraid you must.”
“For defaulting on a loan,” he insolently declared. “Read the documents I gave you. If you want to contest the issue, we’ll see you in court.”
He jumped up to the box, called to the horse, and raced away. She watched him depart, deciding it was the most humiliating episode she’d ever endured.
They were stuck in the country without transportation, without food for the larder and no means to purchase any, and the servants having fled. The indignities were piling up so high they were crushing her.
She whirled away and marched over to the house, and for a minute, she was flummoxed by what she was witnessing.
The windows had been boarded shut, the door too, and there was a legal notice nailed to it. She wrenched it down and scanned it, stunned to discover that the property was being put up for sale, and Henley had started eviction proceedings to have them kicked out.
The bastard! The cur! Where were they to live? Did the inconsiderate fiend expect them to wallow in a ditch?
She began knocking, trying to peer in the windows and shouting to Jasper over and over. She didn’t suppose he was inside, and it didn’t appear he was. Just in case, she checked the outbuildings, but the place was deserted.
She staggered over to the steps and plopped down, wondering where her husband might be and where she herself ought to go. Who—in all the world—would take her in?
She couldn’t think of a single soul.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Hayden sat on the verandah and stared across the park at Wallace Downs. It was late in the evening, the sun setting, and he was incredibly content.
The entire afternoon had been hectic and loud, and he wasn’t used to so much female chattering. He was relishing the quiet moment.
Though he loathed Alex Wallace, the man had a beautiful home, and it was peaceful to relax and gaze out at the green foliage. It made him more anxious than ever to get Middlebury repaired.
People were inside and dressing for supper, which was a regular custom in the Wallace household. Hayden was so far removed from that sort of pomp that he couldn’t imagine participating. He hadn’t packed an appropriate suit of clothes. He didn’t own an appropriate suit.
He’d join them for the meal, but he’d waltz in in his usual attire. He supposed he was being a spoilsport, but there were many facets to his personality that would have to have the edges rounded, and he might never round them. It was a constant concern for him that he was too damaged by circumstances to ever be completely healed, but there were worse things in the world than wearing the wrong trousers into a dining room.
Down in the grass, his daughters were kicking a ball, and he couldn’t take his eyes off them. They looked just like him, and there wasn’t a trace of Eugenia Wallace. It was as if they’d sprung from the earth, with Eugenia not being involved in their creation at all.
He tried to recollect those exciting days when he’d grown so reckless
that he’d fornicated with the unruly tart. What had he seen in her? It was a mystery. He’d simply been randy and wild and hadn’t been able to control himself.
For ten years, he’d been ashamed of his behavior, but now that he had his daughters, he wasn’t sorry for any of it. His illicit conduct had resulted in his being their father, and how could he ever be sorry for that?
He wished he’d brought Helen along to meet them. She would have loved them. She would have…
He shoved the thought away and refused to contemplate her. She occupied a separate part of his life, and it wasn’t the part the twins occupied. Helen was in the past, and they were in the future.
Still though, he felt bad for how he’d left matters at Middlebury. She’d proved herself to be a special friend, and he had to be kind to her. He’d find her a safe place, where she’d be happy, where she’d be appreciated. She deserved that.
Millie called up to him. “Father, will you play with us?”
“Maybe in a few minutes,” he called back. “You two keep on. I like watching you.”
They smiled at him, and his heart constricted a bit. They were so…pretty. He couldn’t get over it. Helen would agree with him. She’d claim they were…
Gad! He had to cease his obsessing. She was like a gnat that had crawled into his brain. He couldn’t dislodge her.
Robert trudged over and sat down. He asked, “What has you laughing and talking to yourself?”
Hayden wasn’t about to mention Helen to Robert. Robert had warned him to be careful with her, but as was Hayden’s habit, he hadn’t listened.
“I’m reflecting on how mad I am,” Hayden said.
“If you can admit you’re deranged, perhaps you can start working on a cure.”
“Very funny.”
“How is your wound? Would you like me to change your dressing?”
“No. I’m enjoying myself too much to go upstairs.”
“I could look at it here.”
“I don’t want the twins to see.”
“How are you feeling? You don’t seem feverish.”
“I’m not. Stop worrying.” He pulled his focus from his girls and glanced over at him. “Where have you been, and what’s wrong? You’re jumpy as a cat in a sack.”
“You won’t believe what happened.”
With Hayden just being shot by Desdemona, the comment was unsettling.
“What?”
“Do you remember that woman I told you about?”
“You’re a veritable Romeo. How could I keep track?”
“She was the one I eloped with. Mildred Farnsworth?”
“Oh, yes. Her father caught you and dragged her away. What about her?”
“She’s here.”
“Here…at Wallace Downs?”
“Yes.”
“In what capacity?”
“Your sister’s husband, Nicholas? He’s her son. She’s Lady Sarah’s mother-in-law.”
“I’ll be damned,” Hayden murmured. “You spoke to her?”
“Yes.”
“You’re nervous as hell. Why?”
Robert blew out a heavy breath. “Sometimes, I think I’m an idiot. Then circumstances establish that I don’t have to think I am. I absolutely am.”
“What circumstances? What do you mean?”
“When her father chased me out of England, she was increasing with my child.”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“You had no idea?”
“No, and it never occurred to me to wonder. I should have I guess.”
“You guess?” Hayden snorted with grim amusement. “Was it a boy or a girl?”
“A boy.”
Hayden scrutinized him, then scowled. “Hold on a minute. It’s Nicholas, yes? Nicholas Swift is your son?”
“Yes.”
“Holy Jesu,” Hayden mumbled. “You’re sure? No, no, of course he’s your son. You could be twins.”
Hayden and Nicholas had attended school together. They hadn’t run in the same circles, but when he’d initially heard the name of Sarah’s husband, he’d questioned whether it might be the same man, and it was.
Fate was so strange.
Because of Robert’s doomed affair with Miss Farnsworth, he’d fled England and wandered the globe for two decades. Finally, he’d signed on with a crew where Hayden had been indentured. He’d instantly bonded with Hayden, had taken him under his wing, had taught him how to endure his ordeal.
In a thousand different ways, Hayden owed his life to Robert. If they hadn’t crossed paths, Hayden might never have survived.
What were the chances that Robert, Nicholas, and Hayden would be connected? Especially when Robert and Hayden had been sailing on the other side of the Earth? What were the chances Robert’s son would wind up wed to Sarah? It was eerie, as if celestial forces beyond his control had been guiding his steps, and a shiver raced down his spine.
“I knew Nicholas in school as a boy,” Hayden said.
“Huh! What are the odds of that?”
“I was just pondering the same. I feel as if there’s magic afoot.”
Robert smiled. “You always were a superstitious devil.”
“Was she glad to see you? Or was she angry?”
“She’s glad. Ah…she never married. She was positive I’d come back for her. She waited for me.”
“For thirty years?” Hayden scoffed. “I like you well enough, but that’s a tad excessive—even for a fellow with your enormous charm.”
“I’m bowled over.”
Hayden studied his friend. “You’re a bit misty-eyed, Robert.”
“I must be getting old. This whole experience has been too much for me.” He actually wiped away tears. “I thought badly of her.”
“Didn’t her father tell you she’d wed her fiancé?”
“Yes, but he lied to me. She refused every offer—because she was so certain of me. All these years, she spent them being certain, and I spent them denigrating her. I’m such an ass.”
Hayden reached over and patted his arm. “It’s been a hard road for both of us, but we’re home now. What are you thinking about all of this?”
“I’m leaving for a few days.”
“Leaving for where?”
“To Mildred’s property outside London. I’d like to have a day or two away from here with her and Nicholas.”
“But you’ll be back for the wedding?”
“Yes. How about you? Will you stay until then?”
Hayden hadn’t assumed he would remain. He’d worried the entire visit might be awkward, but so far, it had been marvelous. His biggest concern had been over how he and Alex Wallace would interact, but Wallace had stayed out of the way, giving Hayden and his sisters plenty of time to chat and become close again.
“I haven’t decided,” Hayden said. “I might stay. I can’t imagine being separated from Mary and Millie, and I doubt Abigail would let me take them anywhere.”
“I wouldn’t let you either.”
“Will you finally marry Miss Farnsworth? Is that your plan?”
“I can’t predict how it will end. We’re simply eager to escape all the noise and excitement at Wallace Downs. She wants me to bring Will and Tom too. I’m sending Will to fetch him and meet us at her house.”
“It will be filled with your handsome, strapping sons.”
“She never had a family of her own. Her father took Nicholas away from her immediately after he was born, and he never revealed where Nicholas was or who was raising him. They’ve only just found each other.”
“And you have found them—with Will and Tom.”
“This might be very good.”
“It might be, but are you about to abandon me for her?”
At the notion, a wave of panic rushed through him. Robert had been by his side for so long that he couldn’t remember when he wasn’t standing there.
“I’ll never l
eave you,” Robert calmed him by saying. “Don’t fret about it. I just need to go away with her.”
“Go then.” Hayden tried to appear nonchalant, tried to hide his anxiety. “When will you depart? In the morning?”
“Yes, first thing.”
Hayden was surprised to discover that Robert’s hand was shaking, and he said, “Don’t berate yourself, Robert. It will all work out.”
“I’m sure it will, but I’m exhausted. Do you mind if I miss supper?”
“No. I wish I could miss it myself.”
“I’m going to bed. Don’t get up to see me off.”
“As if I would. I’m sleeping in, and you can’t change that fact.”
“Keep an eye on your wound.”
“I will, and you’re hovering like a mother hen, which annoys me.”
“I’ll be back soon. I swear.”
“I know, Robert. Now go!”
Robert walked off, and Hayden watched him until he vanished in the house. Then he spun toward his daughters.
The colors in the park had deepened, the greens of the trees and grass more brilliant than ever, the sky fading to lavender and orange. It was quiet, the breeze slowing, the birds settling in for the night.
Suddenly, he felt terribly lonely.
He hated it when Robert left! Hayden wasn’t a baby, and he didn’t need Robert doting like a protective nanny, but they were partners, like brothers but better and closer than that.
He would never dissuade Robert from flitting off with Mildred Farnsworth. The woman had vexed him for an eternity, and it would be beneficial for him to reach some sort of conclusion with her, but Hayden never rested easy when they were apart.
A vision of Helen popped up again, and he allowed her to occupy a center spot. It had been a stressful day, and he yearned to tell her all about it. She was the only person he yearned to tell.
He wanted to talk about Wallace Downs, about his sisters and their excellent marriages. He wanted to stun her with the news about Robert and Mildred Farnsworth, about Nicholas Swift being their son and Robert having had no clue. Most of all, he was keen to describe his beautiful daughters and how desperately forlorn they’d been until his sister, Abigail, had been hired to tend them.
