by Amelia Grey
“I’m sure you have your reasons for not declaring for her.”
“I do.”
“I’d ask you what they were but I know you won’t tell me. I’ll leave you to them. However, it’s certainly not because she’s not interested in you or you in her. I’ve watched her. She can’t take her eyes off you.”
Lyon grimaced. “Are you watching her?”
Marksworth shifted in the saddle and rolled his shoulders. “I couldn’t do anything else the other night at Middlecastle’s dinner party. She was right in my line of vision and you were in hers. But since you won’t tell me what’s going on between the two of you, I’ll tell you why I asked you to join me for a ride today. I’m getting married on Friday. You’ll come?”
“Of course. I like Miss Ballingbrand. She seems to suit you. I’m just surprised you’re not waiting until the Season is over and parliament has ended.”
“I had expected to.” Marksworth chuckled under his breath. “But there’s hardly two weeks left of the parties so I can forgo them. She’s ready to marry me, leave London, and begin our travels. I had hoped she’d learn to enjoy the parties, teas, and shopping, but that hasn’t happened. She’s quite miserable here and loves the quiet of the country so we’ll go ahead, say our vows, and then visit my estates while the weather is comfortable.”
“I’m surprised and glad you’re acquiescing to her wishes.”
“Why do you say that? I’ve done my best to make all my wives happy.” He grunted. “Besides, she’s eager to start a family.”
“Marksworth, we are not on that path today,” Lyon said, suddenly annoyed.
“I don’t suppose you ever have been,” his father mumbled. “I’m glad she wants children. There’s no reason for us to wait for a few more parties and a few more votes. Especially since it looks as if another Season will end with you unwed.”
The devil take it! If Lyon could change Adeline’s mind, he would be happy to do so. But she’d made it quite clear her first marriage was enough for her. He was doing his best. He had to trust his instincts. Pressing her every other day to marry him wouldn’t help him to earn her trust. It was difficult enough to accept the way things were without his father’s constant harping about him marrying and having a son.
Marksworth continued to talk, but something else had caught Lyon’s attention. In the distance he heard high-pitched girlish squeals, yells, and peals of childish laughter. He pulled on the reins, stopping his horse and scanning the area around him. To his right he saw a group of children playing.
His body tightened. They had to be girls from the school. He recognized their sounds. Maybe Adeline was with them in the park. A perfect coincidental meeting.
“I’m going this way, Marksworth,” he said, and without waiting for his father to agree, he guided his horse to change directions.
His father had no choice but to follow and catch up to say, “Where are you going all of a sudden? This isn’t the way to run away from a conversation you don’t like.”
“I’m not,” he answered. “There’s something I have to do. I’ll see you at your wedding on Friday.”
Lyon nudged the horse, and the mare started trotting. He didn’t slow the animal until he was close enough to recognize the girls’ coats and bonnets. Making a wide circle around the merrymakers, he looked at the three women standing guard.
Adeline wasn’t with them.
Disappointment and aggravation gathered in his chest. There was no reason for her to be with them but for a brief moment he’d had hope. As he watched them, something odd struck him. Two girls were apart from the rest. They weren’t up running around wildly, holding hands and swinging around, or laughing and chasing with the others. They were sitting on the ground, a good distance away from the playing and from each other. Looking closer he realized the two girls sitting as the ones who’d entered his house that morning. The headmistress was standing an equal distance between them. Fanny and Mathilda each had a slate and chalk in their hands and seemed to be writing something.
Writing? While in the park? Instead of playing?
He watched the red-haired girl hand her board up to the mistress. She looked at it, picked up the tail of her apron, wiped it clean, and then handed it back to the girl who started writing on it again.
Lyon’s hackles rose. Was this the punishment Adeline had told him about or had the two done something else? It had been a month since the wayward lasses had entered his house, so this shouldn’t be over that incident. But he didn’t know and wanted to find out.
Lyon turned his horse again and kicked his heels into the mare’s flanks. She took off at a gallop. Not wanting to take the time to return the animal to the stables, he raced around curricles, pedestrians, and vegetable carts to get out of the park. Carriage and wagon traffic was heavy on the streets, but he didn’t let that stop his pace either. Without slowing down, he nudged the horse around the slow-moving coach he was behind. Then, one at a time he passed all the conveyances in front of him until he made it to his house in St. James. He quickly dismounted and tethered the mare.
Two carriages were in front of Adeline’s house. Probably Mrs. Feld and Lady Kitson. He didn’t care that he’d be interrupting them. They’d seen him at her house before. So had Mrs. Feversham. If he hadn’t been so intent on getting to the bottom of the girls in the park, he might have turned around and waved to his neighbor.
He strode up to the front door and knocked.
“Mrs. Lawton,” he said, removing his hat when she opened the door. “I’d like to see Lady Wake.”
“She has guests, my lord.”
“I know, but tell her I’ll only take a moment of her time. You can show me to another room to wait until she’s free, but I’ll see her today.”
Mrs. Lawton smiled at him. “Her ladyship told me that you’re the one who gave the girls the pianoforte.”
What could he say? He’d asked Adeline not to tell the girls. He never told her not to tell her housekeeper. He nodded slightly.
She smiled. “I like hearing it in the evenings when all else is quiet. Puts me right to sleep.” She inclined her head toward the corridor. “Go on in and see her. She’s not standing on ceremony today. She has the little one here.”
“Little one?” he asked.
“Lady Kitson Fairbright’s son. He’s a fine boy. Running about here and there and all over the house. No rest for anyone when that one’s around. He can’t be still or stay in one room for long.”
Lyon handed his hat and gloves to the woman, walked to the drawing room doorway, then stopped. His heart slammed against his chest. Adeline was sitting in a chair holding a little dark-haired boy. She had a small wooden horse in her hand and was hopping it across the child’s knees as she said, “Clip-clop, clip-clop.”
They were all laughing.
“My lord,” Lady Kitson said and rose.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Mrs. Feld stand up, too, but he couldn’t take his gaze off Adeline. She lifted the child into her arms, sweeping her gaze up and down Lyon’s face as she did so.
“Lyon, what are you doing here?”
“My apologies.” He bowed ever so slightly. “It seems I’ve interrupted you three ladies again.”
“No, not at all,” Lady Kitson said, taking the child from Adeline. He went willingly into his mother’s arms. “We were just getting ready to say our goodbyes. Weren’t we, Brina?”
“Yes,” she said brightly. “We were.” She turned to Adeline. “It was a lovely visit but, we must go.”
Adeline looked from one friend to the other and back to Lyon. “If you’ll excuse me, my lord, I’ll see them out.”
“No,” Lady Kitson said as the little boy chattered and struggled to get down. “No need for that. We must hurry before Chatwyn gets more restless.”
“Don’t forget this,” Adeline said, handing the horse to the child. He grabbed it eagerly in his hand and then cupped it to his chest.
“You must not spoil him and ha
ve a toy for him every time I bring him,” Lady Kitson said.
“I can’t promise I won’t. I’ve heard it said a man can’t have too many horses. Chatwyn needs a collection.”
The ladies said goodbye the way ladies do. Earnest hugs, kisses on the cheek, and promises to see one another soon. During the flurry of their parting, all Lyon could think was that Adeline would be a caring mother. In just the few moments he saw her with the little boy, he could see that she had patient, loving hands and a tender touch and voice.
“Will you always just barge into my house, Lyon?” she asked him after her friends cleared the doorway.
It always got her attention when he did. Lyon walked farther into the room. “I don’t know. Perhaps I should be punished for doing so.”
“Punished?” she asked curiously. “What are you talking about?”
He stopped just inches from her. “Why did I just see the two girls who entered my house sitting in the park writing on their boards, while the other girls played?”
Adeline’s shoulders lifted. “Because that is their punishment for leaving the school and trespassing on your property.”
“It’s been at least a month since then.”
“Obviously not,” she challenged.
“How long do you intend for this to go on?”
“The reprimand was only for a month. I don’t remember the exact day it started. Perhaps this is the last week. Or the last day.”
“Four weeks is a lifetime for a child. Have you no heart?”
“I have plenty of heart,” she insisted. “I didn’t know you knew so much about children, my lord.” She folded her hands across her chest. “I don’t need you to tell me about punishment for the girls.”
Lyon relaxed his stance. She was never more beautiful to him than when she was angry at him. “A week should have been long enough,” he stated. “Two at the most.”
“It wasn’t your decision to make. You agreed I couldn’t send them home and it was your suggestion that I threaten them with a cane.”
“Did you?” he asked, advancing on her again.
“Yes,” she answered without equivocating. “You knew I had to be severe or they would have continued to disobey. As it is, there have been no further instances and they are both still doing quite well.”
He smiled. “Good.”
Adeline’s expression softened. “You aren’t worried about the girls. You just wanted an excuse to come over.”
“No, I was worried about the girls, too.”
“My lady.”
They both turned to see Mrs. Lawton standing in the doorway. “Everything is fine, Mrs. Lawton. I need no help.”
“I’m glad of that, my lady. I told Miss Peat I couldn’t disturb you, but she insisted I tell you it was very important you read this note at once. She said it was pinned to the coat of a little girl who was left on the steps of the school.”
“What!” She gasped. “Someone left a child at the school?”
“Mrs. Tallon is going to give her something to eat while she waits for you to come over and let her know what to do.”
She looked at Lyon, and he nodded. “Go ahead and read it now.”
“All right. Thank you, Mrs. Lawton. Tell her I’ll be over shortly.”
Adeline unfolded the note and started reading. Her hand started trembling. Her eyes closed and she whispered an almost silent “No.”
Her gasp was violent and rending, sending a shudder of alarm through Lyon.
“I can’t believe this.” Adeline grabbed her stomach and bent over double as if in pain.
Lyon caught her in his arms and helped her to sit on the settee as the note fluttered to the floor. He knelt protectively in front of her and placed his hands on her knees, chilled by how hard she was taking the news. “Adeline, tell me what’s happened? Who’s it from?”
She lifted her head and looked at him. Her golden-brown eyes glistened with shock. “My husband’s mistress. She left Wake’s daughter at the school. She wants me to take care of her and let her attend the school.”
Chapter 20
Adeline tried to slow her breathing, but it was impossible to do. Nor could she stop her limbs from trembling or her body from shaking.
He looked back at her and asked, “Did you know he had a child?”
The roaring in her ears was intense but she managed a nod.
“That’s damn brazen of her to bring the girl to you.” Without asking, Lyon picked up the note and started reading.
“I can’t believe she’d ask this of me,” Adeline whispered. Heartache and bitterness that she’d long since buried boiled from her heart and mind, consuming her. “I won’t do it. I can’t. It’s vile of her to even ask it of me.” She looked up at Lyon. “The girl must be given back to her mother. I don’t want to see either of them. Would you please go tell Mrs. Tallon for me?”
Lyon looked up at her. Concern edged his features, and it threatened to deplete what little control she had on her emotions. She didn’t know if she could withstand his sympathy without collapsing into tears.
“Did you read the note to the end?” he asked.
“No,” she said curtly.
“Adeline.”
“No,” she answered in a harsher tone. “I don’t want to read it. Why should I want to see her, hear from her, or read anything she has to say to me or anyone else?”
Lyon seemed to think about his words, before answering. “All right, but you must know what she said, so you’ll hear it from me. Your brother-in-law, the Earl of Wake, has not honored your husband’s allowance to her in over a year. She no longer has the means to care for her child and is giving you guardianship.”
The anguish and destroying despair that Adeline had seen on Fanny’s mother’s face that afternoon near the docks flashed across her mind, wounding her further. Because of that, Adeline understood a mother wanting, deserving the right to adequately take care of her children. But this wasn’t fair. She viciously blinked the image from her mind. She had to. This was different from Fanny and her mother and all the other children she saw that day. This tore at her soul.
“I’m sorry. I can’t help her. Not either of them.” Adeline shook her head, the shock wearing off and anger at this woman building inside her. It was wrong to be forced into a situation that was impossible to bear. “I owe her nothing. She must take care of her child as best she can.”
“The note says she left London yesterday and paid someone to deliver the girl to your school today.”
“It doesn’t matter. I will have someone find the woman,” she said, wiping at the wetness she felt gathering in the corners her eyes. “I won’t have her daughter at the school. Why would she even ask me to do this? She must know how I feel about her.”
Lyon took hold of her trembling hands and held them tightly in her lap. His touch was warm and comforting. The understanding she saw in his face was depleting the little control she had on her emotions, making her want to melt into his arms and cry from the pain this caused her. “Everyone in London must know by now that you helped start a school for unfortunate girls.”
“For girls whose fathers and brothers were lost at sea on the Salty Dove! No one else and certainly not for the benefit of titled men’s illegitimate children. I don’t know why she’s doing this. No, maybe I do know. She wants to remind me one more time that she gave Wake a child and I didn’t.”
“Adeline, no,” Lyon said, gently touching one side of her face. “I don’t think she was thinking about you at all. She was thinking of what’s best for her child. When the earl stopped her income, she probably had to turn to a life that wouldn’t be suitable for a little girl to be around. She must be desperate.”
“I don’t care,” she insisted fiercely. “I can’t help her.”
“Adeline, take time to think about this reasonably. It’s unlike you to be so unkind.”
“Me? Unkind? Did you actually say that to me?” Adeline shoved Lyon away and rose, raking his arms away when he t
ried to take hold of her. She turned to him, striking her fist to her chest, and said, “You have the nerve to call me the unkind one?”
“You must think of the welfare of the child.”
He reached for her again, but she spun away. “No! I am not the unkind one. You don’t know what I went through.”
“I don’t, but I know you can’t put your husband’s daughter in an orphanage or out on the street.”
“His brother did and so can I.”
“You aren’t like that.”
“I am like that!” she yelled, inhaling a bitter sob. “You don’t know how many times Wake threw in my face ‘My mistress can give me a child but my wife can’t.’ You don’t know how many potions he mixed and forced me to drink with brandy because the taste was so vile I couldn’t otherwise get them down. How many examinations I had to endure from men and women. The horrors of being probed and poked by a physician, a midwife, an apothecary, or some other person Wake had found who promised he could make a miracle happen. They all promised they could help me conceive. And none of it ever made a difference. Not once.” Another sob heaved from her chest. “So no, I won’t take her child into my school and care for her! I never said one unkind thing about her to Wake. That’s what I did for her, and all I can do for her now is stay quiet about what I think of her.”
Lyon stood quietly watching her. Letting her say what was buried deeply in her heart. What she should never have let be spoken. She didn’t want him to see her like this. Didn’t want him to know how she’d suffered. Without thinking, she rushed over to the doorway and pointed to the corridor. “Get out.”
Her throat and chest hurt. She watched Lyon stride over to where she stood, but instead of going out he closed the double doors.
“I asked you to leave,” she said in a softer tone, not wanting to believe he wasn’t leaving her alone to drown in her anger, hurt, and bitterness.
“No,” he replied quietly, with a hint of a smile twitching his lips. He turned the key in the lock. “You told me to get out, but I’m not going to.” He reached for one of her hands.
