To Heal an Earl

by Aston, Alexa

  “A little.”

  “Miss Nott will be able to help you understand it.”

  “Miss Nott knows a lot.”

  His throat tightened. “She certainly does. I hope you’ll enjoy this.”

  Rodger coughed some and Gray handed him the handkerchief that sat on the bedside table as he’d seen Charlotte do countless times. His nephew spit the phlegm into it and then spooned more broth into his mouth. The coughing ceased.

  “Will you also talk about it with me?” the boy asked hopefully.

  Guilt flooded him. “Not in person but you can write to me in London. I’ll be spending most of my time in the city. Masters has the address.”

  “Oh.”

  His nephew looked so forlorn that, for a moment, Gray questioned whether he ought to go or not. Then he stiffened his resolve.

  “The book is broken into parts. Four voyages. In the first, Gulliver travels to Lilliput. Perhaps you could write after you’ve read each section and let me know what you think.”

  Rodger nodded and Gray saw resignation in the lad’s eyes.

  “I’ll be off within the hour. I just wanted to come tell you goodbye.”

  His nephew lifted his hand and Gray shook it. “Goodbye, Uncle Gray.”

  “Goodbye, Rodger.”

  He left the room. There was no saying he hoped the boy felt better because Gray knew he wouldn’t. The next time he set foot at Gray Manor would most likely be for his nephew’s funeral.

  Next, he went to the schoolroom where Harriet and Jane would be at breakfast with their governess. He took a deep breath and then entered the room, smiling broadly.

  “Good morning, girls,” he said pleasantly. “Miss Nott.”

  Harriet and Jane jumped up to greet him, hugging him tightly. Jane took his hand and led him back to the table. As he sat in the small chair, his eyes met Charlotte’s.

  She knew . . .

  It shouldn’t surprise him. Servant gossip was the lifeblood of any house. In her eyes, though, he saw disapproval. And disappointment. He looked away.

  “Do you want me to draw you a picture today?” Jane asked.

  “Will you go riding with us during our lesson today, Uncle Gray?” Harriet pleaded.

  “I am going to London today. I leave in a few minutes. I’ve come to say goodbye to you.”

  “When will you be back?” This from Harriet, who eyed him warily.

  “Not for quite a while,” he said truthfully. “Now that I’ve hired good people to run Gray Manor and care for you, I will be spending most of my time in the city.”

  “When will we come visit you?” Jane asked shyly.

  “It’s important you remain at Gray Manor and keep to your lessons,” he said, his throat closing as reality set in.

  Harriet glared at him. “When will you be back?” she growled.

  “I plan to visit once or twice a year to see how things are being managed.”

  The girl sprang to her feet, her tiny hands fisted. “I knew it. You only pretended to like us. I told Miss Nott that you wouldn’t like me. That you wouldn’t like us. I’ve tried so hard to be good—and it wasn’t enough. No one likes us. No one cares for us.”

  Her face grew red and she said, “I hate you, Uncle Gray. I hope you never come back.”

  Harriet ran from the room. Jane burst into tears and followed her sister.

  Gray sat there numbly.

  Charlotte rose, her displeasure obvious. “I never would have figured you for a coward, Gray,” she said, her words cutting him to the quick. “They are orphans. They need you.”

  He stood. “They have you and Betsy to care for them.”

  “That’s not enough and you know it,” she said, anger sparking like fire in her eyes. “You are their blood kin and you are abandoning them. Would you have abandoned your men on the battlefield?”

  “Never.”

  “Then why would you walk away from these helpless children? And don’t tell me you don’t feel anything for them. You do. I know you do. I’ve seen how fondly you look at them.”

  He crossed his arms. “I’ve told you I’m no good to anyone, Charlotte. I’ll do my duty to the estate. See my nieces and nephew have the best care possible. But I can’t be there for them emotionally. I don’t have anything to give them.”

  “You’re right. You don’t.” She scowled at him. “You aren’t the man I thought you were, Danforth Grayson. You are beyond selfish. You’re putting your own needs above helpless children. Children who worship the ground you walk upon. When you leave, you are abandoning them in every sense possible. The damage will be irreparable.”

  “You are exaggerating, Charlotte. I don’t even have that much to do with them now.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “You are a fool and have inflicted worse upon them than their own parents did. Your coming home gave them hope—and now you’ve snatched that away.”

  He saw she trembled with rage now and longed to reach out to touch her but knew he would be rejected.

  “You’ve wounded them as surely as if you’d run one of your bloody bayonets through their hearts.” Charlotte paused. “Harriet’s right. It would be better if you never came back.”

  She hurried from the schoolroom, leaving him alone. Silence surrounded him and his heart ached more than when he’d seen death claim his own men. Gray knew he brought harm everywhere he went. It renewed his resolve to leave, knowing he did what was best for what was left of his family. It would be hard for the children for a short while but, in the long run, they were better off without him. Charlotte would see the destruction he’d brought pushed aside. She would be the balm for their souls as they slowly healed.

  Gray left the schoolroom and went to the stables. Parker told him the carriage was loaded. Sable had Titan saddled and ready.

  “I’ll ride ahead. The two of you take the coach. The driver knows to return with it so it will be at the family’s disposal should they need it. I’ll purchase another one once we reach London.”

  “Very good, sir,” Parker said and he and Sable climbed inside the vehicle.

  Gray nodded at the coachman waiting atop the carriage and he flicked the reins. For his part, Gray urged Titan on and galloped away from Gray Manor.

  And a life that could never be his.

  *

  Charlotte went to comfort Harriet and Jane, knowing how raw their feelings were. They had openly given their affections to their uncle and he had let them down in the worst way possible—indifference and his absence from their lives. She would have to pick up the shattered pieces of their hearts and try to mend them somehow.

  And not think of her own heart that would never, ever heal.

  How could she love a man who would do something so hurtful?

  She stopped in her tracks, sucking in her breath. Tears stun her eyes as she realized she loved Gray. Despite his tremendous faults. Despite the fact that he now abandoned them. Of all the idiotic, stupid things to do. She’d gone and fallen in love with a man so broken, so flawed, that the only thing he could successfully do is run away from the very people who loved and needed him.

  Charlotte resolved to put every thought of Danforth Grayson from her mind. She refused to mope—and she certainly wouldn’t let the children do so, either. She would guide them as they all turned the page and entered a new chapter of their lives.

  One where Gray played no part.

  Brushing the tears from her cheeks, she knocked softly on the closed door and received no reply. Opening it, she found Harriet and Jane sprawled face down on the bed they shared, both girls weeping into their pillows. Charlotte went and sat on the bed, where she stroked each girl’s hair and let them cry it out. They would be spent physically but feel better emotionally.

  The tears finally subsided and Harriet nudged Jane. Both girls turned over and stared at her.

  “He’s an awful, awful man,” Harriet said, her jaw setting as stubbornly as her uncle’s.

  “Your Uncle Gray is very confused and unh
appy,” she began.

  Jane’s eyes went as round as saucers. “He is? But I thought he liked it here.”

  Harriet snorted. “I told you he wouldn’t like us.”

  “Hush, Lady Harriet. That’s not true,” Charlotte said. When the girl started to speak, Charlotte shook her head. “The war hurt your uncle.”

  “Did he get shot?” Jane asked.

  “No. But it’s as if he did. Your uncle was an officer, in charge of a great many men. In war, men are killed. Your uncle, though he was following orders from above, feels responsible for his men dying.”

  “But he didn’t kill them himself,” Harriet pointed out, the wisdom of her eight years only seeing in black and white and not the varying shades of gray of real life.

  “We know that but he still hurts as if he did kill them.”

  “Can’t we make him feel better?” Jane asked. “I would give him a drawing every day.”

  “Uncle Gray is broken inside,” Charlotte said. “And no one can fix him but himself. He needs to go away and see if he can figure things out.”

  “Will he?” Harriet asked softly, doubt in her eyes.

  “I hope he can. If he doesn’t, we’ll have to make the best of things. You are very lucky. You live in a wonderful, large house. You don’t have to worry about not having enough food to eat.”

  “And we get to learn from you, Miss Nott,” Jane said brightly. “And ride horses and play the pianoforte.”

  “You do. Not every young girl is lucky enough to do so.” Charlotte paused. “I think we will put aside our lessons today.”

  “Can we go riding?” Harriet asked eagerly.

  “I have something better in mind,” she told them. “You both are in need of new clothes since you’re growing so fast. I’d also like to see riding habits made up for you. We’ll go into Wilton today and see the seamstress there.”

  “Yes!” cried Jane.

  “After that, we can eat at the inn.”

  “What will we get?” Harriet asked eagerly. “We’ve never been there before.”

  “We’ll have to see what they’re serving today. We’ll also go to the store and see if they have drawing paper and art supplies. Why, I’ll even buy you each some new ribbons.”

  The smiles on their faces warmed Charlotte.

  “We’ll leave in half an hour. I want to go see your brother first. I’ll meet you in the foyer downstairs.”

  She left them and went to the earl’s room. Mrs. Minter nodded from her chair and Charlotte went to the bed.

  “What are you reading?” she asked, not familiar with the large tome in his lap.

  “It’s Gulliver’s Travels. Uncle Gray gave it to me. He said you could help me understand it. I’m to write him when I finish reading about each voyage.”

  “That was nice of him.”

  The boy frowned. “He won’t be coming back for a long time.”

  “I know. He told your sisters the same thing just now.”

  Rodger wheezed a few times and then asked, “Is there something wrong with us, Miss Nott? Father and Mother didn’t like us. I thought Uncle Gray did.”

  “He does, my lord. He has many responsibilities, though, since your father died. He must see to all of them. I’m going into Wilton with your sisters. Is there anything you’d like me to bring back to you?”

  He thought a moment. “What about a sticky bun? Mr. Masters brought me one once.”

  “I’ll see to it. And we’ll talk about what you’ve read once I return.”

  Charlotte smoothed the boy’s hair and kissed the top of his head. She retrieved her reticule from her room and checked to see that she had ample money to feed them before going downstairs and seeking out the butler.

  “Mr. Masters, I’m taking Lady Harriet and Lady Jane into Wilton. They need new clothes. We also plan to eat at the inn and look for new art supplies. They are going through the drawing paper I brought rather quickly.”

  He gave her an approving smile. “This will brighten the young ladies’ spirits, especially with Mr. Grayson leaving today. Tell the seamstress to send the bill to Mr. Benjamin Bonham in Canterbury.”

  “Lord Crampton has requested that I bring back a sticky bun for him. Could you tell me where to purchase one?”

  “I can. Let’s go see Mr. Linfield.”

  She accompanied him to Jeremy’s office and Masters explained what the proposed outing entailed. He asked that the manager use some of the funds kept on hand so that Miss Nott could pay for a meal and miscellaneous supplies while in town.

  Jeremy reached into a box. As he did, he said, “There are a few things I need in Wilton, as well. Would you mind if I accompanied you and the young ladies, Miss Nott?”

  “That would be wonderful, Mr. Linfield.” She knew what a happy person Jeremy was. It would be good for the girls to be around someone who was eternally optimistic.

  He slipped an envelope he withdrew from the box into his pocket as he rose. Smiling, he said, “Let’s go enjoy this fine day.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Charlotte told Jeremy that the girls were down in the mouth about their uncle’s departure for London and that was why she had suggested the outing to Wilton.

  “Then we’ll do our best to cheer up the young ladies,” he promised. “I was surprised by Mr. Grayson’s quick departure. You could have knocked me over with a feather when he told me he’d only return once every year or so. Now mind you, I don’t mind the responsibility and am grateful Mr. Grayson has enough trust in me to run the estate. I’m to send him monthly reports.”

  Gray hadn’t even mentioned to her to do the same regarding the children’s progress, which only added to his list of sins.

  They met the girls in the foyer and Charlotte told them Mr. Linfield would accompany them to the village.

  “I hope you don’t mind me going with you. I have a few errands I need to run and I can’t think of a better day to do so or more delightful company.”

  She could see him already charming the two. Harriet’s scowl lessened and Jane looked at Jeremy hopefully.

  “Come, let’s go to the stables and see if there’s a cart.”

  “There is, Mr. Linfield,” Harriet told him. “I don’t know if we’ll all fit, though.”

  Jeremy had a groom bring out a cart, pulled by a pair of horses. The bench where the driver sat would hold another passenger and if they squeezed together, one of the girls.

  “Here, we’ll have a few blankets brought out and Lady Harriet and Lady Jane can ride in the back. Miss Nott may ride up front with me.”

  The girls seemed excited and Charlotte got them settled before she allowed Jeremy to lift her to the bench. He climbed in behind her and took up the reins.

  The September morning weather was sunny with a slight breeze. Kent was still green as far as the eye could see. Charlotte breathed in the fresh country air and tried not to think of Gray riding Titan toward London. He would only be about seventy miles away but she knew from experience what a wide gulf separation represented. When they arrived in Wilton, she’d be only a handful of miles from where she grew up—but the distance between her old life and current one was vast.

  As the horses trotted away from Gray Manor, Jeremy said, “I think it’s a fine time to sing.”

  “Oh, yes,” Harriet said. “Miss Nott sings very well.”

  He gave her a sly grin. “Does she, now? Well, Miss Nott, would you care to sing along with me?”

  “Please, Miss Nott. Sing with Mr. Linfield,” begged Jane.

  Charlotte shrugged. “You begin,” she told him. “I’ll join in.”

  “Here’s one you’ll know.”

  He began with the first line of Lord Randall. She let him sing for a moment by himself and then slipped in, allowing him to sing the melody while she harmonized.

  When they finished, the girls clapped enthusiastically and Harriet called, “Again!”

  “The same song?” Jeremy asked, laughing.

  “Yes. I like it. Bu
t this time let Miss Nott start out.”

  He glanced at her. “I’m not sure I can harmonize as well as you,” he said, turning his eyes back to the road.

  “I don’t think they care,” she said gaily and began again.

  Jeremy let her sing the first verse and then jumped in. She thought he had a pleasant voice and did a fine job.

  “Do another one,” Jane insisted.

  “Let’s do one together,” she suggested.

  They sang several songs and before long, the village of Wilton appeared in front of them.

  “That was so much fun,” Harriet said.

  Charlotte was glad the girl seemed to have put her foul mood behind her. She wanted this day to be special.

  “You can drop us at the dressmaker’s,” she told Jeremy. “We’ll be there a good hour or more.”

  “That will give me time to accomplish what I need to do. I will call there for you once I’m done.”

  He slowed the cart until it came to a halt and then handed her and the girls down before driving away with a merry wave.

  “Mr. Linfield is nice,” Jane said.

  “I like him better than Uncle Gray,” Harriet said, a stubborn set to her mouth.

  Charlotte gave her a warning look. “No mentions of your uncle, Lady Harriet. We’re to enjoy today.”

  She’d only been in the dressmaker’s shop twice that she could recall, many years ago. One of her father’s tenants had a way with a needle and had made all of Charlotte’s clothes. She’d been promised a London-created wardrobe when it came time for her Season, a time that never arrived. She wondered if the shop owner would recognize her, the first hurdle to jump during this trip to Wilton.

  Harriet pushed the door opened and a little bell rang to signal customers had arrived. Charlotte closed the door behind them as a young woman close to her own age appeared.

  “Good morning, Lady Harriet, Lady Jane.”

  “Good morning,” they responded and then Harriet said, “This is Miss Nott. She’s our governess. Where is Mrs. Castle?”

  Sadness filled the woman’s eyes. “My grandmother died last month. I have taken over the shop for her. But don’t worry. I have been sewing clothes for our clients for a good decade now. Grandmother’s eyes grew foggy so I took over for her.” She smiled at Charlotte. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Nott. I’m Miss Castle.”