“Can I assist you, sir?” Harold rose.
“Ah, you must be the Lord Bamber,” said a voice. “The one who took over the title.”
“Since my brother-in-law's death, yes,” Harold answered. “And you are?”
“I am Gilles Owens,” he said “Your wife's forth cousin. And the rightful heir to this place.”
“Excuse me?” Harold struggled for words. “What do you mean by that, sir?”
“I mean, sir that you are a usurper,” he answered. “And I expect you to vacate this house.”
“My wife is the rightful heir to the Bamber estate,” Harold answered. “As our children are. I have a son who will inherit.”
“Your wife, as I'm sure you are aware, is a woman. A woman cannot inherit.”
“Why have you come here?” Harold asked. “Because I assure you that throwing facts in my face that you claim as true are not going to get us to pack our bags. And we should not be having this discussion in front of children.”
“Is this your daughter?” Gilles asked, turning around to look at Gwendolyn. “My goodness, you look like your mother.”
“My father is Lord Aaron Bamber,” Gwendolyn raised her chin. “And he was the greatest father there ever was. If he was here, he would be taking care of me and nasty men like you.”
“Gwendolyn!” Harold said in surprise. Aaron only raised an eyebrow. She was certainly like her mother indeed, although it wasn't who Gilles assumed.
He had vaguely heard the name Gilles Owens before. The man lived in South Africa, in one of the colonies. He ran a sign shop, and he was such a distant cousin that no one was quite sure of his relations.
He couldn't possibly be claiming to be the heir over Annabelle, could he?
Yet here he was, marching in as if he owned the place.
“Oh, that's right,” Gilles answered, with a sneer. “The child of the former lord and his peasant mistress.”
“Sir, you will not speak that way in my home,” Harold said. “I will have to ask you to leave.”
“In my home, may I point out,” Gilles said, even as the butler approached with two footmen.
“Leave!” Harold answered. “Now.”
There was a bit of a scuffle, and then Aaron heard the door slam. He waited a few moments more, until Harold knocked on the book shelf.
“You are safe,” he said. “Come on out.”
“Are you alright, Gwendolyn?” he said, immediately, sweeping out from the book shelf and reaching to hug her. Gwendolyn raised her chin high.
“Of course, Father,” she said, in such a way that made him smile. She was so strong and so easy going. Nothing seemed to bother her, and he was glad of it. Still, he was disturbed by the encounter, and turned to Harold.
“Has that happened before?”
“No,” Harold answered, clearly equally disturbed. “Do you know him?”
“I've never met the man before in my life,” Aaron answered. “I've heard his name, distantly...but he's so vaguely related, that I can't believe that he would make his way here. I'm not sure he's set foot on British soil in nearly 30 years....”
“And his relation?”
“So severed,” Aaron answered. “He's not the direct heir. Yes, we need a male to inherit, but only to a certain degree. Annabelle being my twin, my father's daughter, is acceptable.”
“Why couldn't I inherit, then?” Gwendolyn asked, even though she knew the answer. Aaron gave her another hug.
“Because I made a mistake of not being married to your mother,” he said. “And I'm sorry for that. But you know that Uncle Harold will always take care of you.”
“I know,” she said. “But if I can't inherit, than that man can't just walk in here and say those things.”
“No, he can't,” Aaron said. “And you know that. So don't worry about it.”
“Mm,” she said, giving him one last hug. “I'm going to go find Mother, alright?”
“Alright,” he said, and she scampered off. Aaron turned to Harold then, his jaw set. “Well, that was frightening. I'll speak to Annabelle, see what she can trace. I'm sure he's just someone looking for a hand out through diluted blood lines. It happens every once in awhile. Part of the perks of being a Lord.”
“I'll alert the butler not to let anyone like him back in,” Harold said. “Now, if he could solve our crisis at the Navy, I would consider letting him be a Lord part time.”
Aaron snorted at that.
“You seemed to have gained a sense of humor while I've been away. I appreciate that.”
Harold rolled his eyes.
“Sit down. You shouldn't have had that much excitement after the morning you've had.”
“There's the old Harold I know,” Aaron answered, as he settled on the couch. “Are you really worried?”
“About you?” Harold answered. “You'll be alright.”
“Not about me,” Aaron replied. “About being outnumbered by the Spanish. We're the British Navy, Harold, there's not a force on earth that can reckon with us. It will be alright.”
“It won't be,” Harold admitted. “The war is slipping through our fingers. If we keep losing battles at the rate we are doing so, we will be in French occupation within the year.”
“That's pessimistic,” Aaron said, although he could hear the seriousness in his friend's voice. “I don't know what to tell you, Harold.”
“I'm not trying to put the whole war on your shoulders, on Wesley's shoulders. And I'm certainly not trying to tell you to sacrifice your life. You have already made the ultimate sacrifice for your country. I'll figure it out.”
“Thank you,” Aaron said, and he cocked his head.
“Thank you for what?”
“Through all this, for taking care of Shauna and Gwendolyn. She wasn't bothered by that vile man, and I don't get the feeling that she is bothered or afraid of anything. You have made her feel safe, no matter which house she is living in...and no matter that I'm here or not. I have no fear, when I'm at sea, whether they are alright, because of you.”
“They would be better with you, though.”
“I know,” Aaron said. “But we can no longer discuss it like it's an option. We both have children; we both have lives beyond ourselves now.”
“Hello?” came a voice at the door and Aaron jumped. He looked up, ready to run, and then relaxed.
“Morgan! Good Lord, you frightened me.”
“You said the door was opened whenever I wanted?” Morgan answered, swaggering in with a grin on his face. “I want.”
“Well come in, have a seat,” Aaron grinned. “Harold, may I introduce you to Morgan Ouiseau, the best pirate I've ever met. Joined my crew about a year ago.”
Harold looked the man up and down, dressed in half rags, with a gold tooth and dreadlocks. He certainty looked like a typical pirate.
“Nice to uh...meet you,” he said, as Morgan helped himself to a drink. “Aaron, not to judge your Captaincy skills...but does your whole crew know of your identity?”
Aaron smiled as Morgan settled down beside him.
“Don't worry, Harold. The pirates have their own code. They've all got reasons for going underground as well, so they aren't going to tell anyone. It's more a code than the Navy some days, no obligation to report.”
“We're a trustworthy bunch,” Morgan grinned, as he threw his feet up on the coffee table. “Promise. You must be the new Lord.”
“I uh... yes,” Harold said. “Can I help you?”
“Ah, Captain here said we could drop by whenever we wanted,” he said. “So, here I am. Nice place.”
“Thank you?” Harold answered, unsure of what to do. He certainly didn't want to consider speaking about classified Navy plans, no matter how much Aaron swore that his pirates were trustworthy. “Will you be staying long?”
“I told them they could stay as long as they wanted while we were docked,” Aaron said, giving Harold a look. Harold didn't dare challenge him, no matter who officially had the title at the mome
nt.
“Right, I'll just uh...go inform the chef we have an extra for supper then,” Harold replied, leaving the room. Morgan grinned, watching him go.
“Your brother-in-law is a bit uptight,” he said, and Aaron nudged him.
“He's just in a tough position at the moment,” he said. “He'll be alright. He'll figure things out, he always does.”
“You look like a ghost, Capt,” Morgan said, and Aaron cocked an eyebrow at him.
“That bad, hmm?”
“You alright?”
“I am,” Aaron said. “I'm just glad to be at home.”
“So I take it we're not sailing again for awhile.”
“No,” Aaron replied, thinking of Gilles and what Harold had told him. “Not for a long while. I understand if you may want to find other work...
“Don't be silly,” Morgan drowned his drink. “You're my Captain. Until the end.”
“Until the end,” Aaron said, wondering just how long that might be.
CHAPTER SIX
What time do you have to work?” Wesley asked her, as they returned to the house.
“Call time at 6pm, as always,” she replied. “It takes a lot of time to make me look like a Queen.”
“That's odd,” he said. “I would have figured it took no time at all.”
“You are quite the charmer, aren't you?” Lola teased him, as they stepped inside.
“Stop,” Wesley grabbed her hands, pulling her close for a kiss before they could go inside. “I just wanted to do that.”
“Oh,” she blushed. “That was nice. But why?”
“Because we live with those who can't,” he answered. “And I didn't want to take anything for granted.”
“You wouldn't...” she closed her eyes. “I wish you didn't have to think like that. And if I wasn't an actress, you'd never think twice about these things. We wouldn't have had the day we had today if...”
“Don't think about it anymore,” he said. “You need a clear mind to perform well tonight. And I'll be in the box, supporting you.”
“Maybe Aaron can sneak in,” she said. “Wouldn't that be fun? I'll put a mask on him and walk him right through the stage.”
“I will sneak in whoever you want to see your partner fail at his lines,” Wesley smiled, as they walked in the door.
Inside, they found a rambunctious attitude. Matheson and Corrigan had found Morgan in the living room, and the men picked up as if they were still on the ship. They weren't crude, but their energy was high and loud.
“What's happening?” Lola asked Harold, who greeted them at the door. “And why do you look like you are running like a bat out of hell?”
“Ha,” Harold said, although he seemed completely unimpressed. “Your ship mate is staying for supper.”
“Which one?” Wesley asked.
“Morgan, I think his name was.”
“Oh,” Wesley looked completely unimpressed by this.
“Who’s Morgan?” Lola asked.
“He's one of the longest serving pirates out there,” Wesley answered “He used to be a privateer, and Navy before that. I don't know much about why but he's...outlandish, shall we say.”
“Well, that sounds exciting,” Lola said. “Do all pirates have secrets like you do?”
“Only on stage,” Wesley said. “Go on, you'll have to see for yourself.”
The energy changed as soon as Lola walked into the room. Wesley could see Morgan's eyes raise up as she entered, her beauty unparalleled.
“Well, bless my soul,” he said. “How did you get attached to Wesley?”
“Dignified and classy as always, Morgan,” Wesley said. “May I introduce my wife, the Countess Lola?”
“Charmed,” Morgan rose, to kiss her hand, and Lola smiled.
“Nice to meet you,” she said. “Were you new to the ship?”
“Newish,” he glanced to Aaron, who smiled. “How long we've been sailing together, Captain?”
“Off and on,” Aaron answered. “Whenever you feel like it, it seems. Which suits me just fine.”
“Good, because it suits me, too,” he said, and turned back to Lola. “Are you staying for supper?”
“I do live here,” she said, with a smile. “Although I have to work soon.”
“Work?” He turned to Wesley, pretending to be outraged. “Are you making her work? Does a Countess not have an income?”
Aaron laughed.
“Morgan, this is the Lola. My best friend, Lola, turned Countess from the first moment she saw Wesley's eyes.”
“The Lola?” Morgan cried. “The actress. My goodness, you two do have a story on your hands.”
Lola could see that he didn't disapprove, but after the day that they had, her guard went up. He could see that, and waived his hand.
“Don't worry,” he said. “I understand.”
“Do you?” she asked, and his eyes twinkled.
“I do,” he said. “But that's a story for another time.”
“How was your day?” Aaron asked Lola, and she shook her head.
“Let's just say that I'll be glad of the masks at the King's birthday,” she said, as she headed upstairs to change for supper. Aaron raised an eyebrow and hauled himself up off the couch, under the idea that he was also going to change for dinner. However, he made a beeline for Lola's room, knocking on the door before she got a chance to even pick out a dress.
“Mm?” she asked, pulling open the door. “What, is dinner canceled?”
“What exactly happened on your day out?” he asked. “Because you practically ran away from us.”
She sighed, leaning on the doorway. It was just like him to pick up on the layers of emotion beneath her fake smile.
“It just...I think he saw the reality of what being married to an actress really meant, carrying that title. And although he says it's fine...it makes me feel guilty.”
“It's not like he didn't know going in, Lola,” Aaron said. “There is no reason for guilt on your end.”
“I know,” she sighed. “It's just a matter of whether I would like to feel like that every time we go out together,” she put a hand to her face. “I think these are the same problems as before, Aaron. We love each other...but neither of us particularly wants to be in the situation we are in. Both of us are stubborn, and neither of us will give up or let the other go...unless...”
“Unless what?”
“I don't know,” she shook her head. “I'm tired, I'm not sure I want to discuss this now. How are you?”
“I'm alright,” he said. “Thanks to you today, my skull isn't cracked.”
“I remember when they used to be triggered by something, when we could predict them,” she said. “A fever, a crack on your head, remember?”
“All too well,” he replied. “Don't worry about me, Lola,” he said. “Just focus on the moment, do you remember that? We have come home to support each other, and to attend the King's birthday, and no one is going to stop that.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“No one like who?”
It was his turn to reveal a secret. He told Lola about the man bursting into the house today, and her eyes widened.
“What are you going to do?”
“Nothing,” he said. “He's mad and he'll go away, I reckon. He has no case. My sister is the direct heir and Harold has a son. That's all there is to it.”
“Alright,” Lola said. “If you're sure. Have you told Shauna?”
“I'm sure Gwendolyn will,” Aaron replied. “If she doesn't fill her ears with Harold's need to run the Spanish out once and for all, and how Wesley and I need to return to the Navy.”
“Which is impossible,” she said.
“I would have thought the life we are living was impossible once upon a time,” he said. “Now it almost seems normal.”
“Are you happy with that normal, though?” she asked.
He met her eyes and they both knew the answer. Lola kissed him on the cheek.
“I'm going to ch
ange. I'll see you in a moment,” she said, shutting the door. Even though the conversation was over, he had a feeling they had started something larger than they had thought.
Changing for dinner was a tradition in a large house, even if it was just for the people that lived there. They were all dressed their best. Even Matheson and Corrigan had on their best suits, albeit a bit lower quality from the Lords and Ladies around them.
Only Morgan remained in the exact same clothes he had walked in with, and he didn't seem to care at all. As the servants put their plates down, Morgan grinned at his Captain.
“This looks a site better than we have on the ship, hmm?” he asked.
“Ahem,” Harold said, indicating that there were children present.
“You were on a Navy ship as well?” Lola asked, trying to break the tension and shock that was growing.
“For a time,” Morgan said, and it was clear he didn't want to open up too much about the subject.
“And then you went privateer?”
“I've done a lot of things in life,” Morgan said. “Just like you, I imagine.”
“What exactly are you implying?” Wesley felt his hackles raised. Lola waived her hand.
“It's OK,” she said. “I have done quite a few roles on stage. But being a Countess is the newest one, and the one that I approach with the most caution...and dedication,” she smiled at her husband.
“But you all have unconventional marriages, hmm?” Morgan looked up, around the table. “Marriages that shocked the community, hmm?”
“Oy, Morgan,” Matheson put in. “You can talk all the smack you want on a ship, but you're around ladies and children now, the children of those marriages. Take my advice and use your mouth for eating food.”
Morgan gave him a cheeky look.
“Just curious,” he said, but decided to continue eating in silence.
The awkwardness that he had let drift over the table didn't go away. His words were true, regardless of whether they were meant to be harsh or not. They were controversial marriages, and while they seemed happy, they weren't without cracks.
“I thought I could bring home masks from the theater today,” Lola said. “In preparation for the mask ball. Does anyone want a specific costume?”
How To Love A Fake Prince_The Regency Renegades_Beauty and Titles_A Regency Romance Story Page 24
