A Lady's Deception

by Pamela Mingle

  “Christ almighty, Eleanor. Even then you didn’t tell me of your suspicions. I might have lost everything in that fire, and he might have returned to do more harm.”

  “I intended to tell you all of it. About Lili and Abbot both, last night.”

  If anything, his glare was more hostile than before, and she was struck dumb by his response. “I shall see my solicitor in London tomorrow and find out what actions I must take to declare Lili my daughter. Legally. Then I’ll remove her from the Abbots’ home and place her with someone I deem fit. At least until my house is ready to be occupied, and I can employ a nursemaid.”

  When Hugh moved toward the door, as if to leave, Eleanor leaped to her feet. “Remove her from the Abbots, by all means. I’ve been longing for the day I could do that. But bring her to me. I am her mother.”

  He turned, staring at her with those cold, judgmental eyes. “You’re not fit to raise her. A woman who would give up her own child. You’re cut from the same cloth as my mother.”

  And there it was. What she’d been waiting for. The comparison to his mother. Eleanor was weeping now. “Can you so easily dismiss what we’ve meant to each other these past weeks? Can you not try to understand?”

  “I see now how wrong I was about you. You didn’t have the courage to defy your parents, nor did you do the sensible thing and contact me. How can I trust you with her when you were so willing to be cajoled into handing her over to the Abbots, of all people?”

  Hugh unlatched the door, poised to leave and set his plan in motion. Eleanor moved toward him, letting him see her tear-streaked face, her misery. “Whatever you think of me, Lili loves me, and I love her. Don’t tear her world apart to wreak vengeance on me, I beg you.”

  He hesitated, and for a moment she thought he might relent. But he said, “You had your chance, and you failed. I am her father, and I’ll take responsibility for her now.” He exited without a backward look, pulling the door closed behind him.

  Hugh’s words, spoken only last night, echoed in Eleanor’s ears. “Nothing you could say would make the slightest difference in my feelings for you.” But it wasn’t what she’d said, rather what she’d done, that had ripped them apart.

  …

  After Hugh left, Eleanor wallowed in self-pity for a long time. She understood his feelings of hurt, betrayal, and even a degree of anger. But she’d not anticipated the fury she’d seen in his eyes. Or the complete lack of empathy. At length, she pulled herself together.

  A long afternoon stretched out before her. Eleanor hadn’t been back to the Abbots’ since Jacob Abbot had barred her from entering. She would visit this afternoon and check on her daughter’s welfare. Seeing Lili presented the perfect opportunity to take her mind off her own wretched state. Given that she did not know when Hugh would make good on his threat, she’d do well to take advantage of every spare moment she could spend with her daughter. For a long time now, whenever she had a free moment, Eleanor had been sewing a wardrobe for Lili’s cloth doll from scraps of the finest silks and satins, and she wanted to teach Lili how to dress it.

  She was taking a risk, not knowing if Abbot would be there. But Eleanor suspected he was at Longmere. Since so much had been lost in the fire, Hugh would need every available carpenter to replace what had burned. Not long after she’d made her decision, Eleanor pulled up at the Abbot home. Edith answered her knock, wariness in her eyes. “Miss Broxton. I wasn’t expecting you.”

  Eleanor had to restrain herself from a sarcastic response. Her visits should be a surprise to nobody. They had been prearranged and agreed upon. “I would like to see my daughter, Edith. Your husband wouldn’t allow it the last time I drove out.”

  The woman’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond to Eleanor’s statement. “Come in, then.”

  “How are you feeling?” Edith’s belly had swelled and rounded since Eleanor had last seen her.

  “Well enough, I suppose. Lili’s in the kitchen.”

  The toddler was sitting on the floor, playing with spoons, bowls, and cups. When she saw Eleanor, her face glowed with excitement. Eleanor dropped down beside her. “What are you making, poppet?” Lili crawled into her mother’s lap, and she drew her close, inhaling her scent. “She looks much healthier than the last time I saw her.”

  Edith had returned to kneading dough. Without looking up, she said, “You mean, when she had the earache. She got over it pretty fast.”

  Eleanor got to her feet, holding Lili in her arms. “I’ve brought her something. I left it in the gig, so we’ll just go and get it. Do you know where her doll is?”

  “In her bed, I think.”

  That afternoon, mother and daughter spent a long time together dressing the doll in the clothes Eleanor had lovingly sewed. A chemise. A bright yellow cambric dress with pin tucks and a sash. A vivid red ball gown with a flounce. “Here, love. Mama will help you with the dress. Which one?” Lili pointed to the red gown. Her little fingers couldn’t quite do what she wanted them to, but in her mother’s opinion, for a child of her age, she showed a great deal of patience.

  Eleanor studied her, so like Hugh in her coloring. What would he make of her? Her sparkling dark eyes, the joy she found in simple accomplishments, the radiant smile that greeted Eleanor every time she visited. Although she bitterly resented Hugh’s plan to take Lili away from her, one part of her was glad for him, that he would meet his daughter at last. And glad for Lili, too. A wave of despair washed over her, so strong she wanted to weep. Her dreams for herself and Lili would never come to pass. And she must also let go of her foolish hope that Hugh might play a part in those dreams.

  When Eleanor took her leave, ominous dark clouds were gathering, staining the sky a purplish black. She drove as fast as she dared, eager to arrive ahead of the storm. After dropping off the gig with one of the stable lads, she hurried down the path toward the cottage. But the storm burst before she made it home, soaking her clothes, bonnet, and half boots. It was dark inside, and she lit a few candles before changing her dress. Then she looked for a drying cloth to blot her wet hair.

  Suddenly drained, she dropped onto one of the chairs and forced herself to think rationally about her situation. Hugh was planning to cut her off from her daughter completely, and she couldn’t stand by and let that happen. She would seek her father’s help, but not until tomorrow. She was far too upset to have such an important conversation tonight, while her feelings were still so raw.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The next day

  Hugh had wanted to set out for London immediately upon leaving Eleanor, but the hour was too late, and he was in no frame of mind to travel. Instead, he waited until morning, checking in with Ned and Ridley before departing. The cleanup of the site was proceeding apace, and the carpenters were making good progress on the rebuilding of all that had been lost in the fire. Abbot was present, seemingly hard at work. Hugh sought a private word with Ned.

  “I must go up to Town for the day.”

  “Oh?”

  Hugh did not feel like elaborating. He hadn’t yet decided how he would explain the sudden introduction of a child into his life. “Needs must. I’ll be back in a few days. Have you any idea of where we stand with the kitchen?”

  “The carpenters are still working on the cupboards. But we can start bringing in supplies to stock the larder.”

  “See to it, would you? And while you’re at it, ask around about a cook.”

  “My mother will probably know of somebody,” Ned said.

  “Good. The sooner, the better. And maybe your mother could help make a list of the provisions we need.”

  Ned laughed. “I can most likely do that myself.”

  Hugh took his carriage to Town. He’d purchased it from an earl and had it refurbished, and right now he was thankful he’d spent the blunt to make it so comfortable. Riding would have been faster, but he needed time to collect his thoughts. To concentrate on what he would tell McBride about his predicament. Leaning back against the squabs, h
e closed his eyes. Eleanor’s countenance was there, as it had looked when he’d left her yesterday. Her face wet with tears, and her horribly anguished eyes.

  Hugh knew he’d handled the meeting with Eleanor abominably. Hell, that was an understatement if ever there was one. After weeks of worry about the sadness he always sensed in her, an uncontrollable rage had supplanted the affection that had filled up an empty place in his heart. How could he have been so cruel and judgmental?

  But he quickly hardened himself against her. Eleanor had made a series of poor choices, beginning with her decision not to tell him she was with child as soon as she’d found out. She’d chosen to keep their daughter a secret even after he’d arrived back in Surrey and had all but laid his heart at her feet. Despite Abbot’s threats and attempt to extort money from her, and her suspicion that he’d set the fire…despite all that, she’d said nothing.

  And God above, he was a father. Because of the adversarial nature of his conversation with Eleanor, he hadn’t asked anything about Lili, and knew nothing except her age and name. Was she a serious child? Or more happy-go-lucky? Did children her age talk yet? Could she walk? Dunderhead. Of course she could walk. Didn’t babies start to walk around a year old? He imagined she resembled Eleanor, with light hair and hazel eyes. Yes, a miniature version of Eleanor, most likely.

  He asked the coachman to drop him off in Southwark, intending to take a wherry over to the City. After the footman let down the steps and Hugh climbed out, he touched the man’s shoulder. “John, I have an errand for you.” Hugh handed him a brief missive he’d composed to his brother the night before, stating that he’d be visiting his solicitor this afternoon and would stop by the townhouse later.

  When Hugh arrived at Stewart McBride’s office, the clerk informed him the man was currently with another client. Hugh said he’d wait. He was no closer to knowing exactly what to say to the solicitor, but overall he felt the best approach was to keep it simple. McBride could ask questions if he needed more information.

  “Sir Hugh,” McBride said when Hugh was finally ushered in. The solicitor asked the clerk to bring tea before gesturing to a chair.

  “How are you, McBride?”

  “Well enough. Surprised to see you here today. How can I help you?”

  Hugh cleared his throat, suddenly feeling nervous. He wasn’t accustomed to sharing his deepest secrets. But this was necessary. “I’ve recently discovered that I am the father of a two-year-old child. A girl. I want to take full responsibility for her. Remove her from her current situation and raise her myself in my home. How can I bring this about? Legally?”

  If McBride were shocked, he gave no sign of it. “What is her current situation?”

  “She was fostered out after her birth and has remained with the same family since then.”

  “Was there an agreement drawn up between the parties involved?”

  Hugh shrugged, realizing there was much he did not know. “I didn’t ask. I assume so.” It was likely Broxton had insisted on some type of formal agreement.

  The clerk brought in the tea, giving both men a chance to ponder. After McBride had poured and handed Hugh a cup, he said, “Legally, Sir Hugh, the child doesn’t belong to anybody.”

  “What?”

  “I am sorry if this offends, but I’m simply stating the truth. The child is baseborn. Your name is not listed in the baptismal records, I assume?”

  “That’s correct.” Having Lili called “baseborn,” even though McBride meant nothing by it, appalled him. It was no better than “bastard.”

  “Would you consider marrying the mother?”

  “No,” Hugh said immediately and decisively.

  “Is she of low birth? Immoral character?”

  This was growing worse and worse, and Hugh had to work at keeping the irritation out of his voice. “No. Not at all. She’s a gentlewoman. Her father insisted the child be placed with foster parents.”

  “Of course. Any father would, to protect his daughter’s reputation.” McBride selected a biscuit and bit into it. “The mother, of course, would stand a much better chance of making a marriage without the stigma of a child.”

  Hugh spluttered, choking on his last swallow of tea. Christ, what he needed was strong spirits, not weak tea. Eleanor, married? To somebody else? He’d not contemplated it, but surely that was what her parents had hoped for when they insisted she give Lili into the care of strangers. If it became known she had a child outside of marriage, she’d be an outcast in the eyes of Society.

  He looked up to see Mr. McBride gazing at him speculatively. “Are you all right, Sir Hugh?”

  “Yes, of course. Go on.”

  “Would you like my opinion? My unadulterated opinion?”

  Growing impatient, Hugh raised a hand and let it drop. “That’s why I’m here, man.”

  “Among all the parties involved—that is, the mother, the foster parents, and yourself—you are in the best position to care for a child. I’m correct in assuming that?”

  Hugh nodded.

  “Then simply take the child by right of power and money.”

  “What about the agreement?”

  “Most such agreements would surely stipulate that the child could be reclaimed at any time. Unless the mother truly wished to rule out having any part in her life. Is that the case here?”

  “It is not the case.” Hugh scrubbed a hand across his face. “I simply want to ensure that neither the mother, nor the grandparents, nor the foster parents, can legally take the child away from me.”

  McBride let out a sigh. “So the mother does want to be involved in her child’s life? And you object to that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Might you ever change your mind?”

  “No.” Hugh felt McBride’s eyes studying him.

  “Are you certain of that?”

  “I am. In any case, that’s not actually germane to the fundamental question. Which is: Can I legally remove my daughter from the foster parents? And restrict her mother’s access to her?”

  “As I said, a baseborn child legally belongs to nobody. By the fact of your wealth, your reputation, your standing in the community, I believe you can.” McBride hesitated, again directing his assessing gaze at Hugh. “However, I would weigh carefully the benefits of separating a mother from her child. It could do irreparable harm to them both.”

  Hugh rose and held out his hand. “I must be the judge of that. Thank you for seeing me today. Your counsel has been very helpful.”

  McBride shook his hand and walked with him to the door. “I’ve worked for your family a long time, Sir Hugh, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I offer a piece of advice. I would urge you not to act in haste and to consider all the ramifications of your actions. Do nothing until you are in a more calm and rational state of mind.”

  Hugh nodded curtly. He walked toward the river. His mouth was hard and his jaw set. By God, he was doing what was right, and nothing would throw him off course. McBride could go to hell.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Later the same day

  Eleanor waited for her father to join her in his study. When Sir William entered the room, she was standing at the window. “Norrie, my dear. How good to see you. Will you stay for dinner?”

  She’d wanted to be calm and rational when they spoke, but the mere sound of his voice provoked a new bout of crying. “Papa. I need your help.” Eleanor ran to him and buried her head against his shoulder. She’d thought her tears would have dried up by now, but she seemed to have an endless reservoir of them. At length, her father gently pushed her away and led her to the sofa set against one wall.

  “Sit down, love, and tell me what has happened.”

  For the next several moments, she poured her heart out. She revealed that Hugh was Lili’s father, but she’d never informed him. That Abbot had tried to blackmail her and had most likely set the fire that destroyed much of Hugh’s property. And that Hugh was going to take Lili from the Abbots and not allow her access
to her child.

  “But why would he do such a thing? In these cases, the fathers usually wish to distance themselves…” His words petered out. Her father was probably ashamed that his own daughter was one of the “cases” to which he referred.

  “He believes I willingly abandoned Lili to the Abbots, who, as it turns out, are the worst kind of people.” Eleanor wiped her eyes and nose with Sir William’s handkerchief. “I was unaware of this until recently, but Hugh was deeply hurt when his mother and Adam moved to Town. He viewed it as desertion, and now accuses me of the same thing.”

  “Did you tell him that you visit the child often? That your own money helps to pay the Abbots for her care?”

  She grabbed her father’s sleeve. “Don’t you see—it doesn’t matter what I say. He won’t listen. Will you talk to him, Papa? Persuade him to change his mind?”

  Her father rose to pour a glass of sherry for her, a brandy for himself. “Drink up. It will help.” He waited until they’d both taken a few swallows before speaking again. “Of course I’ll speak to him. Whether I can persuade him of anything is another matter. He is angry, Norrie, and you must see he has good reason to be. Why did you not tell him, love? A man has a right to know he’s fathered a child.”

  “He was already in Canada when I learned I was with child. I believed the likelihood of his returning to wed me were slight. I should have told him when he came home, but I kept putting if off. I didn’t want to cause a scandal for him. And I was afraid. I had no idea of how he would react to the news. He might not have wanted Lili or me.”

  “By all appearances, love, he does want you.”

  “Not anymore,” Eleanor said.

  They were both silent. It had started to rain, and the drops were pattering against the study windows. They should be slashing. Thunder should roar and lightning flash. Not this weak display. It didn’t come close to matching the turmoil churning inside her.

  “Papa, what if we went to the Abbots, right away, tonight, and removed Lili? We could bring her here, just until I find someplace else for us to live. That was always my plan anyway, to move to a town where I’m not known.”