by Cheryl Holt
“I have no doubt Faith is at her father’s,” he said, “so please don’t fret.”
“I’m trying not to, and we’ll discover her whereabouts soon enough.”
“What do you mean?”
“As I said, you won’t believe what’s happened.”
In fits and starts, the tale unfolded: the lawyer’s clerk visiting Chase, the stolen bequest, his decision to wed Faith, his trip to Scotland, Faith’s not being there, the girls nearly put up for adoption, Rowena kidnapping them and running into Chase almost immediately.
But out of all the details provided, the most riveting was Chase’s plan to wed.
“Chase is proposing to Faith?” he asked. “You’re certain?”
“Positive,” Rowena replied. “I told you he liked her. You thought I was mad.”
“I pestered him about her once, and he claimed they shared no heightened affection.”
“Obviously he was lying. He likes her very, very much. Doesn’t he, girls?”
They vigorously nodded.
The second detail that fascinated him was the news that Chase had inherited a tumbledown estate.
“Tell me about Chase’s property,” he urged Rowena. “How did he describe it?”
“There’s a grand house and plenty of outbuildings. Barns and equipment and animals and cottages and such.”
“How big is it?”
“In acreage? I don’t remember, but he said it’s very large.”
“Are any of the servants still there?”
“Some of the older ones who were too tired to move on when the prior occupant passed away. Why?”
Ralston grinned. “If it’s a huge farm, Chase has to have an estate agent.”
Rowena grinned too. “Yes, he will.”
“I’m available for employment.”
“You don’t know anything about farms.”
“Don’t you suppose it’s time I learned?”
* * * *
Rowena was snuggled with Ralston when the front door quietly opened and closed.
The girls were asleep on Mr. Hubbard’s bed, and Ralston was in his own and sleeping like a log, but she hadn’t been able to shut her eyes. Her mind was awhirl with excitement over Mr. Hubbard’s windfall.
She’d already painted a very vivid picture of Oakhurst. Mr. Hubbard would definitely need an estate agent, which was a job Ralston would relish. If that post was filled, there had to be another for Ralston. Mr. Hubbard would never leave Ralston behind so Rowena’s future was secured. The same for the girls.
Who could doze off with that glorious information realized?
Someone was walking around in the parlor, lighting a candle, pouring a serving of liquor. A decanter pinged on glass, and a man sighed as he eased himself into a chair.
It had to be Mr. Hubbard home from his visit to Faith. Rowena crept to the floor, tugged on her robe, and tiptoed out.
“Mr. Hubbard,” she said, “I thought I heard you.”
“Hello, Miss Bond, and since you’re staying in my apartment and dressed in your nightclothes, perhaps you should call me Chase.”
“Then you have to call me Rowena.”
“I will.”
“How was your trip?”
“Long. Slow. Awful. I almost didn’t return to London.”
“Where would you have gone instead?”
“I don’t know. Back to Egypt? To America? To India? I was so worn out from trying to decide that I simply staggered here.”
He looked terribly dejected, and a sinking feeling swamped her.
“What happened?” she asked as she sat in the chair next to him. “Did Faith refuse you?”
“I didn’t even speak to her.”
“She wouldn’t meet with you?”
“No, she was away—on her honeymoon.”
Rowena gasped. “What?”
“She married her cousin, Lambert. She was very despondent when she arrived at Heron Hall, and he pressed the issue when her spirits were very low. She agreed right away.”
“You should have demanded to see her.”
“There was no point, and anyway it wouldn’t have been appropriate. Not with her being newly wed. It’s clear to me that our affection wasn’t quite as strong as I presumed.”
Rowena scowled. “I’m really confused about a pesky fact. Who told you they had married?”
“Her stepmother, Alice, and she begged me not to contact Faith again. I promised I wouldn’t.”
“Convenient for Alice, I suppose—but for reasons I can’t fathom.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Faith isn’t married yet.”
“Yes, she is.”
“The ceremony is on Friday.”
He frowned. “What?”
“I wrote to her the minute I left Scotland to apprise her of where I’d be and that I had the girls with me. She replied this afternoon and invited me to the wedding.”
“You’re sure you have the date correct?”
“Absolutely sure. Before we went to bed, Ralston and I were discussing why she would pick Lambert over you. If she had a proposal from both of you, why choose Lambert—whom she despises? Now it seems very likely she didn’t even know you were there.”
She rose and retrieved the letter. “Read it for yourself.”
He scanned the words over and over as if they were penned in a foreign language he didn’t comprehend. Finally he muttered, “What can this mean?”
“I can’t guess, but my question is: Why would Alice tell such a lie?”
“I can’t imagine.”
“She’s determined that Faith wed Lambert—and not you.”
“It certainly appears to be the case.”
“There must be mischief afoot.”
“Apparently but over what issue?”
“In family situations like this,” Rowena sagely advised, “it’s always about the money, isn’t it? There must be a financial knot buried in it that we can’t unravel.”
“Perhaps. It’s definitely how it played out in my family.”
“Poor Faith. She’s in the country alone with them and completely oblivious to the truth.”
He studied Rowena, then chuckled. “I’m liking you more and more, Rowena. You have a devious mind.”
“Yes, I do. I admit it.”
“We’re alike in that way. I calculate the odds and assess the angles, and I assume people are up to no good.”
“Well, they generally are greedy and horrid.”
“That’s my view.”
“Mine too,” she agreed.
He walked over to refill his glass with liquor, and when he seated himself again, she saw that he’d poured one for her too. He held it out, and she accepted it without objection or pretending to be shocked. She liked to drink alcohol, although she was careful to hide her predilection from Ralston who she was afraid wouldn’t approve.
But a fiancé didn’t need to know every little detail. A secret or two wouldn’t kill him.
She touched their glasses together. “To new friends.”
“We’ve been acquainted too long to be new friends. How about to better friends?”
“To better friends than ever.”
“How are the girls?” he asked.
“Adjusting.”
“Ralston is back?”
“Yes.”
“He has to come with me. Can you spare him for a few days?”
“Where are you going?”
“To Sussex—to kidnap Faith of course.”
“I was hoping that was your plan.”
“I’ll keep her by my side until I wear her down and convince her to wed me instead of her cousin.”
“I doubt you’ll have any trouble.”
“She’s awfully stubborn.”
“And you’re Chase Hubbard. If you can’t persuade her I have no idea what to tell you.”
She leaned over and clinked their glasses again. “To the end of your bachelorhood.”
“To t
he end of it.”
“To your pending nuptials.”
“To Faith.”
She downed her libation in a quick swallow. “You can take Ralston on one condition.”
“What is it?”
“You have to give him a job at Oakhurst.”
“Was there ever any question I wouldn’t?”
“He’s terrified you won’t think he knows enough about farming.”
“Neither do I, but I figure we’ll muddle through.”
“That’s what I told him, but he doesn’t believe me.”
“The boy’s an idiot.”
“I love him anyway.”
“I’m glad,” he said. “Glad for both of you.”
“You’ll let me live at Oakhurst too, won’t you? And the girls? They’re counting on it.”
“Of course you’re all welcome.”
“You’ll arrive with a huge crowd in tow.”
“I’ll have a whole family,” he said. “Just what I always needed.”
“Yes, and there’s no one who deserves it more. You have to stop pretending to be such a wretch. We realized long ago that you’re not.” She stood and pointed to the sofa. “Get some sleep, would you?”
“I suppose my bed is full of little girls.”
“Packed to the edges.”
“The sofa is fine then.”
“Close your eyes for a bit,” she said. “You should be up at dawn to head out.”
“I’ll ride like the wind, Rowena. I promise you that.”
“Don’t you dare come home without Faith.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
* * * *
Faith dawdled in the foyer at Heron Hall waiting for Lambert to join her so they could climb into their carriage and proceed to the church. It was her wedding day and in an hour she’d be Mrs. Lambert Newton, a benefit being that she wouldn’t have to change her surname.
Originally she’d assumed she’d fuss over the event and invite dozens of guests, but in the end she’d opted for a quiet ceremony with Alice as the sole witness. Then they’d return to a small breakfast.
It was a far cry from the wedding she might have once had. If she’d agreed to marry Lambert when she was seventeen, her father would have merrily paid for the biggest, most lavish wedding imaginable. Now she simply wanted it over with so the next phase of her life could begin.
If she was sad, if she was nostalgic, it shouldn’t be deemed peculiar. In the past year, she’d experienced an enormous amount of tragedy and heartache. If Lambert wasn’t the man she might previously have yearned to have as her husband, it was ludicrous to fret.
He would be stable and constant and true. He would never crush her with his disregard or wound her with his disrespect. There would be no shocks or disasters, which was a blessing. During her brief fling with Mr. Hubbard, she’d had enough shocks and disasters to last into infinity. If she was never stunned or overwrought ever again, she would consider herself very lucky.
For a nauseating moment, a vision of her wedding night crept in. Thanks to Mr. Hubbard’s excellent tutoring, she had a clear notion of what would occur, and at pondering the looming ordeal she couldn’t breathe.
“It’s bridal jitters,” she scolded.
Every bride suffered them. Every bride debated her choice. There was nothing odd about a minor attack of panic.
If only she’d heard back from Rowena! Since she’d been home, she’d written to Rowena several times, the most recent missive begging her to come to the wedding. The mail was so unreliable, and she hadn’t received a single reply so she didn’t expect Rowena knew about the wedding or that she’d attend. But if Faith could have had a friend with her, she’d feel better. She was convinced of it.
A knock sounded on the front door, and with Faith nearby, there was no need to summon a servant to answer. She grabbed for the knob and braced, hoping Rowena might have arrived to surprise her, but an unknown gentleman was there instead. He looked to be a clerk or maybe a lawyer.
Faith struggled to hide her disappointment. “Yes, may I help you?”
“Mr. Newton wanted me to drop off the foreclosure documents.”
“The foreclosure…documents,” she repeated like a dullard as he handed her a thick file.
“Yes, from his solicitor?”
“I’ll see he gets them immediately.”
“And I’m to inform him the retainer is due. He hasn’t paid his bill, and my employer is tired of contacting him about the money.”
“I will tell him.”
“If the funds we’re owed aren’t delivered by Monday morning, we won’t be able to continue representing him in any of his other cases.”
“I understand.”
With that message deftly imparted, he clicked his heels, bowed, and left.
Faith watched as he mounted his horse and trotted off, then she turned to go into the parlor to sit down and read through the papers. What was being foreclosed upon? A warehouse? One of her father’s businesses? Not Heron Hall surely.
The file felt hot and heavy, as if it was filled with poison, as if it was burning her skin.
Her mind reeled with questions: What did she really know about her father’s fiscal affairs? What did she know about the financial status of Heron Hall? What did she know about Lambert’s management of the estate? They had always lived like kings, and Faith had never wondered if they might not be rich.
They were wealthy. Weren’t they?
Before she could scoot into the parlor, Alice and Lambert bustled down the stairs. They appeared happy and excited.
“Don’t you look pretty,” Alice cooed as she reached the bottom.
“You’re being overly kind,” Faith replied. “If you were honest you’d realize I’m a complete mess.”
Alice had loaned Faith a gown for the wedding. It was a flattering blue shade that should have set off the color of her eyes and the auburn in her hair, but she was cold and nervous, pale and trembling. No amount of blue fabric could fix her reduced condition.
“No, no, you look fabulous,” Alice insisted. “What’s your opinion, Lambert?”
“Yes, you’re very pretty, Faith.” He noticed the file. “What have you there?”
“A man from town brought it. He was sent by your solicitor.”
“My solicitor!” Lambert laughed. “Isn’t it just like the rude oaf to bother me on my wedding day?”
He adroitly slid the file from her hand to his own, and he gave it to a passing servant, murmuring orders for it to be taken to the library. As it vanished down the hall, she nearly called for the servant to halt, nearly demanded a delay so she could study the documents.
But had she the right to request it? She wasn’t Lambert’s wife yet and had no idea what was allowed and what wasn’t. If he refused to let her, they’d quarrel as they were leaving for the church. She couldn’t bear to.
Besides, it was ten-thirty, and the vicar was meeting them promptly at eleven. If she dithered they’d be late, and it seemed an evil portent to be late for one’s wedding.
When Lambert turned to Faith again, he was all smiles. “Let’s be off, shall we?”
“Yes, let’s go,” Alice said. “You two are my favorite people in the entire world. I can’t wait for you to tie the knot.”
They started out, Lambert easing Faith along as if she were a sheep and he a sheep dog, guiding her in the proper direction. The carriage was in the drive, and Lambert helped Faith climb in, then Alice. She and Alice sat together, and Lambert sat on the seat across. The driver clucked to the horses, and the vehicle rolled away.
“What was in that file, Lambert?” Faith casually asked. “The man who delivered it advised me it was foreclosure documents.”
“It’s an annoying situation with one of your father’s old warehouses.”
“Is someone foreclosing on it?”
“He’s trying to, but there was a mix-up in the payments. The fellow contends he wasn’t fully compensated, but he definitely was.
I believe his employees are embezzling and that’s why there’s no record on his end.”
“Embezzling! My goodness.” Faith assessed him, not certain what to think. “What about your solicitor? His clerk claimed he hasn’t been paid either.”
“Why would I pay him when he’s made such a muck of the whole debacle? If he’d been doing his job—which he hasn’t been—I wouldn’t be having these problems.”
Alice said, “Your father left things in such a tangle, Faith.”
“My father left a tangle?”
“Yes, and Lambert has been an absolute angel in straightening it out. He’s worked himself to the bone over it.”
“Has he?”
Her father had left his businesses in disarray? He’d left bills owing and accounts not balanced? It didn’t sound true, and she couldn’t imagine him mismanaging any venture, but then she’d been away for years. Any catastrophe could have unfolded.
“Could I see the estate books once we’re home?” she inquired.
“Of course,” Lambert blithely responded, “but can we enjoy our wedding breakfast first?”
“It doesn’t have to be today,” she said. “I’d simply like to have a better understanding of our financial affairs.”
She’d never read an account ledger in her life, and even if she perused one she doubted she’d grasp what the numbers were telling her.
“I hate to admit it to you, Faith,” he retorted, “but we’re in a bit of a quandary. Your father was in debt when he passed away.”
“He was?”
“Yes. He had several mortgages and had made some bad investments.”
“My father?”
“Yes, but I’ll have the trouble fixed very soon.”
“How will you do that?” Faith asked.
“Lambert is so clever,” Alice interjected. “He’s brimming with remarkable ideas.”
“Yes, that’s me, a veritable economic genius.” Lambert chuckled glibly, then shifted the topic to frivolous matters: the scenery along the road, what dishes Cook might prepare for their breakfast.
Shortly they arrived at the church and went inside. The place was empty except for two elderly ladies who were quietly praying. Alice, Lambert, and Faith walked down the aisle and sat in the front pew.
In a few minutes, the vicar appeared. Lambert jumped up to greet him, looking giddy and relieved and delighted, while Faith was exhausted and wary and perplexed.
