To Heal an Earl

by Aston, Alexa

  “He’s there every day, Mr. Grayson,” she replied evenly, trying to fight all the wild emotions running through her and calm herself. “He is as close to bedridden as one can be. I’ve insisted he get up and walk about the room twice a day with my help, just to keep his limbs working. Mr. Parker, who served as the former earl’s valet, also helps the young earl to bathe and dress daily. I feel it’s important that he gets up and tries to have some semblance of a normal life, even if he remains in his room.”

  “You make it sound dire.”

  “His health is most fragile. I warned you that unless great improvement is seen, Lord Crampton may not reach his next birthday, much less his majority.”

  “What doctors have seen him?” he asked as she paused in front of the boy’s room.

  “Only the local village doctor, to my knowledge. And one at Eton, who insisted the lad return home. You mentioned bringing in someone from London. I feel that’s a splendid idea.” She paused. “Shall we?”

  “Be my guest.”

  Charlotte knocked and entered without waiting for an invitation. She’d learned the boy’s voice sometimes was quite hoarse and he had trouble speaking. As she’d established once she came to Gray Manor, an older woman sat in a chair near the boy to keep watch over him.

  Lord Crampton’s eyes lit up and he gave a feeble smile to his guests. “You’re . . . my uncle,” he said, placing a palm over his chest as he grimaced.

  “I am,” the older man said. “How are you, my lord?”

  The boy coughed and then took a few, quick breaths.

  “Careful, my lord,” warned Charlotte as Mrs. Minter rose and came to stand on the other side of the bed. “Breathe slowly and steadily as we discussed.”

  “Your chest hurting you, my lord?” the servant asked softly.

  “A little,” the boy admitted.

  “Lean back against your pillows. I’ll fetch you some nice broth.” Mrs. Minter excused herself, leaving Charlotte and Mr. Grayson alone with the boy.

  “I’m very sorry to learn about your parents’ deaths,” Grayson said.

  “Miss Nott says . . . they are in a better place.” He looked to the governess. “I was . . . able . . . to get another passage . . . done.” A smile lit his face.

  “That’s excellent, your lordship,” she praised. Turning to the boy’s uncle, she said, “Lord Crampton has an excellent command of Latin and Greek.”

  “Is that so?” He took the boy’s hand. “I enjoyed languages myself but preferred mathematics over all else.”

  Lord Crampton frowned. “I like . . . history. The stories. Miss Nott . . . knows . . . many stories of . . . famous people.” He began coughing again and she placed her hand against his forehead.

  “No fever. That’s good. You’ve spoken enough, my lord. Perhaps your uncle might do the talking for the both of you. He could tell you about his life in the military.”

  The lad nodded. “I remember you came. Here. And left.”

  Charlotte retreated to the chair and watched Mr. Grayson sit on the edge of the bed. His hand still held the boy’s, giving her a good feeling. Maybe he’d spoken rashly before, not having any children of his own. She hoped that to be the case and that he would continue to show interest in the trio.

  They spent a quarter hour together as the older man told of training mishaps as he readied himself to go off to war. The boy smiled the entire time his uncle spoke.

  Mrs. Minter returned with a steaming bowl of broth and Charlotte said, “We should wrap up this visit.”

  “Will you come back?” the boy asked, sadness in his eyes. “I . . . don’t see many . . . people.”

  “Of course, your Uncle Gray will come back,” Charlotte assured the lad. “But he also has an estate to run and we must let him get to that.”

  “Thank you. For coming.”

  Mr. Grayson rose. “I was delighted to see you, my lord.”

  “Could . . . could you . . . call me Rodger?”

  Charlotte watched the man’s features soften. “Of course. I’d like that. Now, get some rest, Rodger.”

  He looked to her and she accompanied him from the room.

  Once the door was closed, she said, “Thank you. He needed that. Desperately. Very few people come to see him. Conversation is quite hard due to his shortness of breath and the constant coughing.”

  “He looks just this side of death. He’s far too thin. Those dark circles under his eyes look permanent. My heart went out to him.”

  “I’m glad to hear you have a heart, Mr. Grayson.” Charlotte began walking down the corridor quickly, regretting her comment.

  It didn’t take her companion but a few strides to catch up with her. He caught her elbow, stopping her. She looked at his hand on her arm and then glared at him. He removed it and she had to lock her knees to keep from collapsing in a heap. No man had ever touched her beyond her father—until Viscount Waverly.

  And yet Danforth Grayson’s touch was as if fire singed her.

  “You seem to freely speak your mind, Miss Nott. More so than any servant I’ve heard.”

  She flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry I was rude previously. I merely felt someone had to speak up for the children. They’re lovely creatures, every one of them, and it’s a shame how they were treated by their parents. I’d hoped, as their guardian, that you would change things in their lives. Let them know they are loved and they make a difference in the world.”

  His eyes shuttered once again and she could sense him withdrawing into himself.

  “You ask quite a bit of me, Madam.”

  She boldly searched his face. “You have done your duty to the crown, Major Grayson. I only ask you to do your duty to your own family and see your blood kin not become lost children.”

  “Where else were you a governess, Miss Nott?” he asked suddenly, causing her stomach to clench.

  “Why would you ask?” she retorted, showing a confidence she didn’t feel. “Your brother felt I was suited for the position.”

  “I haven’t been able to locate your references. I know you mentioned serving as companion to the Dowager Duchess of Exbury for several years. What other positions have you held?”

  She licked her lips nervously, deciding she would only reveal as much as she had to. “I served for a brief time as governess to a young girl, aged four. Then I was assigned to Viscount Waverly’s children. He had two young boys. I believed Lord Waverly preferred a male tutor for the boys before they went off to school and so I found myself available to come on at Gray Manor.”

  His eyes bored into hers. “How long were you at each household?” he asked evenly.

  “Two weeks. And then eight months,” she said, her head growing light. “I understand if you think I am not experienced enough for Lord Crampton but I assure you that I can work with him and the two young ladies.”

  When he didn’t reply, Charlotte decided to throw herself on his mercy. “Please, Mr. Grayson. This is a good situation for me. I will do whatever you ask in order to maintain it.”

  Her words caused her stomach to roil. Would she really do anything in order to remain at Gray Manor? She remembered the horrible things Viscount Waverly whispered to her, slobbering over her as he pinned her against a wall.

  And then Charlotte knew she wouldn’t be able to stay on if that was what was required of her.

  Before she could speak, he took her hand, startling her. She gazed into his eyes, the blue so rich and deep, and became lost in them for a moment.

  “What’s wrong, Miss Nott?” he asked softly, his large, warm hand dwarfing hers. “You seem distressed.”

  She bit her lip. “I won’t do just anything to stay in my role. That was wrong of me to say.” Charlotte swallowed and continued to look him in the eyes. “I was forced to leave both of my previous positions because of . . . unwanted attention. If I were allowed to stay, then I,” she paused and took a deep breath and expelled it, “then I would have to perform certain duties for the master of the house
, as well.”

  She pulled her hand from his. “I wasn’t willing to do so—and I won’t here either, Mr. Grayson. I want to do what I was hired to do. Look after the three children. If you want more from me, I must tender my resignation.”

  He captured her hand again, making her heart pound wildly against her ribs. “My dear Miss Nott, I would never ask you to do anything that didn’t fall within the scope of your duties with the children. You’ve already done so much for those at Gray Manor.” He squeezed her hand and released it, leaving her oddly bereft. “I am sorry you faced such . . . complicated situations alone.”

  She felt her mouth tremble. “Thank you, sir. It’s just that . . . if this situation doesn’t work out, I’ll have to find a new agency. Mr. Plummer was quite clear that he would refuse to place me again if I returned to London after only a brief spell.”

  “You have a home here for as long as you like, Miss Nott,” Mr. Grayson said firmly. “I think you are doing an outstanding job with the children. Even the very unruly Harriet.”

  “She doesn’t mean to behave badly,” Charlotte said quickly. “She did want to make a good first impression upon you.”

  “And she did,” he assured her.

  She nodded. “I am happy to stay as long as you wish, Mr. Grayson. And I apologize for being too forward. You will maintain the relationship you wish with your nieces and nephew. I should never have ordered you about.”

  He gave her a slow, lazy smile that caused butterflies to explode in her stomach. “You remind me of an experienced general, Miss Nott. Very qualified and capable. Skilled. Productive. Methodical. And one who would do anything for his men. I can give you no higher compliment. I hope you will stay at Gray Manor for many years.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she said, her voice quivering. “I must see to the girls now.”

  With that, she marched off on shaky legs. As she returned upstairs, she pushed aside all thoughts of Danforth Grayson from her head.

  For now.

  Chapter Nine

  Gray entered the room he still thought of as his father’s study, though he knew Seymour had used it for the past decade. The last time he’d stood here was when he’d learned of his father’s death and burial while he was away at school. Already, the desk had been a mess, typical of Seymour’s carelessness. Gray had thought his father might spring forth from his grave if he could see what his older son had done to the room that had always been the older man’s sanctuary.

  As expected, the ever-efficient Miss Nott had put things to rights, though. He could picture her here, sitting where he now sat, combing through the papers and making the neat, orderly stacks that greeted him. He wondered where he should begin.

  A knock interrupted his thoughts and he said, “Come.”

  Smith, the footman filling in for Masters, approached him. “These are from Miss Nott, sir. She said you were to review them.”

  “I’ll bet she did,” he said under his breath and then accepted the pages from the servant. “Thank you, Smith.”

  Gray decided these were the most important things to look at—because Miss Nott deemed them so.

  He couldn’t help but pity her—a stunningly beautiful, intelligent woman forced to earn her living among men who were cads and sought to take advantage of her unfortunate circumstances. He knew how hard it must have been to reveal her past experiences. Anger sizzled through him, thinking of unwanted attention being forced upon her. He tamped down his ire. Miss Nott wasn’t his concern. She wasn’t his to protect. She was there to protect the children. As long as she did so, he would have no complaints regarding her.

  But the thought of another man kissing her drove him to distraction. Because he wanted to do the same. Ever since he’d first seen her, he’d yearned to kiss her. Gray pushed aside the thought of Miss Nott, soft and pliant in his arms, as he kissed her until they both flamed with desire. He shook his head, clearing away the image. That was the last thing he should do. He owed it to her to conduct himself as a gentleman would. It wasn’t only expected but he felt he owed it to her after those of his sex had blatantly disregarded society’s rules and used their positions to try and bend her to their wills.

  Gray raked his fingers through his hair and then focused on the first list prepared in her neat, precise hand. It was in regard to the status of the house itself. What repairs needed to be done and the order of importance. What goods needed to be replaced throughout the household. The list also contained her assessment of the work habits of those inside the house. Who should be let go and who should be promoted, as well as who should be retained in their current positions. He was surprised at the thoughtful, complete picture it gave him of Gray Manor, as he learned things that might otherwise have taken him months on his own to discover.

  Putting it aside, he took up the next batch of pages, all regarding various aspects of the estate. Gray pored over it, seeing in his mind’s eye everything Miss Nott referred to. Once again, she ranked items to be accomplished by prioritizing them. Her assessment was practical and showed a deep knowledge of estate affairs.

  Where had a governess learned of such things?

  She’d mentioned running the household for the Dowager Duchess of Exbury. Had the dowager duchess taken a young Miss Nott in hand and personally trained her? Possibly. Still, it didn’t account for the next report she’d prepared regarding crop rotation and husbandry on the estate.

  Miss Nott remained a mystery to him.

  His stomach growled noisily as a knock sounded on the door. Smith came in and informed him Mr. Bonham had arrived from Canterbury. Gray heard the clock chime and asked the servant to bring tea.

  “And find Miss Nott,” he added. “She should be here for this meeting.”

  “Very good, sir.” Smith indicated for Mr. Bonham to come in and left.

  Gray rose and greeted the solicitor. “It’s been several years, Mr. Bonham.” He offered his hand.

  “Yes, indeed, Mr. Grayson. I apologize for not coming sooner. I had a funeral to attend. One of my clients. And might I express my condolences for your loss, as well.”

  He indicated that the man should take a seat. “We don’t have to pretend among ourselves, Mr. Bonham. Seymour’s death meant nothing to me. He hated me from the moment of my birth and even told me during our last meeting that he hoped I’d die at our enemy’s hands.”

  The solicitor winced but quickly recovered his composure. “Yet here you are, Mr. Grayson, selling out and taking on the responsibilities of family for your brother and his late wife.”

  “Someone had to do it,” he replied. “I was the only one available. As it is, I’ll see to getting things running smoothly again and then retire to London. I’ll stay in the city most of the year.”

  The solicitor studied him. “You don’t plan to stay at Gray Manor then?”

  “No. The children will remain with Miss Nott. I would prefer to be elsewhere. But don’t worry, Mr. Bonham. I will see to my duties and earn every penny of my stipend. I’ll call for regular reports from my employees. Speaking of that.” He picked up the pages he’d studied for the last several hours. “Miss Nott’s work. Her recommendations will guide me for what’s to be accomplished.”

  Bonham smiled. “Ah, Miss Nott. I don’t know what Gray Manor would have done without her steady influence the past several weeks.”

  At that moment, the door opened and the governess entered. Both men rose and Gray thought that he’d never done so for a servant. Yet she seemed so much more than that.

  “Smith said you wished for me to meet with you,” she said, her low voice calm and steady. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Bonham.”

  “The same, Miss Nott. I was just singing your praises to Mr. Grayson here.”

  The tea cart had followed her in, pushed by a maid who stood waiting for instructions.

  “Bring it to the group of chairs,” Gray ordered. “Shall we adjourn there?”

  The three took their seats and he asked Miss Nott to pour. It d
idn’t surprise him when she did so with grace and confidence. More and more, he grew curious about her background. He loaded his plate with sandwiches and sweets, having had nothing since early morning.

  Settling back in his chair, he said, “I had a chance to review your recommendations, Miss Nott. Has Mr. Bonham seen your list?”

  “I have. I only had a few recommendations to add,” he said.

  They spent an hour discussing what work needed to be done at the house and on the estate. Miss Nott wasn’t shy about expressing her opinions and he found himself agreeing with her on everything. Some of the work could be done by men in the nearby village, while others would need to be brought in from Canterbury. They came up with a plan of action, Miss Nott taking notes for them as they came to an agreement.

  “I’ll duplicate these so that you both have a copy to refer to.”

  “That would be most appreciated,” Mr. Bonham said.

  “We should also discuss hiring a new housekeeper and estate manager,” she added.

  “I would like to interview no less than three candidates for each position,” Gray stated. “I want to get the most qualified person for each post.”

  “I’ve used an agency in Canterbury,” Mr. Bonham offered. “I can go there first thing tomorrow and then the day after bring those candidates to Gray Manor to speak to you in person, Mr. Grayson.”

  “Yes. Arrange that, Mr. Bonham. And Miss Nott, I’d like you to sit in on those interviews. You have a working knowledge of the house and estate and your contributions would be invaluable.”

  “Of course, Mr. Grayson,” she said.

  The clock chimed and she looked to it. “It’s five o’clock. I read with the girls from five to six every afternoon and—”

  “It’s important to maintain a routine,” Gray finished, smiling at her. He looked to Bonham. “I’ve told Miss Nott that she would have made a fine army officer with her discipline and love of order.”

  The solicitor chuckled. “I do believe you’re correct. If Bonaparte saw Miss Nott coming, he would surrender immediately.”