Sweeping off his top hat, Colton stepped into the parlor of Samuel Gladstone’s three-story Cotswold house. It had been several days since he had met Felicity Fairchild in town, but he had not forgotten his former promise to look in on her grandfather. That was the reason for his visit this day, to renew his acquaintance with the elder after his lengthy absence.
With the aid of his walking stick, Colton limped along behind Samantha as Jane Fairchild led the way upstairs to her father’s bedchamber. At the elder’s door, his sister paused to talk with Jane and motioned for him to precede her.
Soon after crossing the threshold, Colton noticed books upon layers of books stacked in nearly every available nook and cranny of the spacious room. A tall, elongated, glass-enclosed wooden case residing against the inside wall was completely full of weighty tomes. On a trestle table near the foot of the man’s enormous bed were other volumes of comparable size intermingled with a number of others that were both smaller and larger.
Garbed in clean nightshirt and nightcap, Samuel Gladstone was sitting up in his bed with covers draped across his lower torso and a makeshift desk lying across his lap. Several goose-down pillows had been stuffed behind his back, providing a wealth of cushioning against the lofty Elizabethan headboard.
Colton paused, reluctant to disturb the elderly miller who seemed engrossed in perusing the contents of a ledger. Thus far, the man had failed to notice his entrance. Looking back to Jane for guidance, Colton received encouragement as she urged him on with a smile and shooed him inward with fluttering fingers. He stepped closer to the bed. “Good afternoon, Mr. Gladstone.”
Lifting his gaze, Samuel readjusted wire-rimmed spectacles upon his nose as he squinted curiously at his visitor. It was not altogether rare that such a well-garbed gentleman came to see him. Lord Harcourt visited him quite often, in fact, bringing with him others who often left him chortling in glee, but the looks of this one was closely reminiscent of another he had once known and respected for a goodly number of years prior to that one’s more recent death. Although equally as handsome and tall, this one who progressed toward his bedside with the aid of a fine walking stick was younger by perhaps thirty years.
Samuel Gladstone slowly waggled a finger at his guest as a smile stretched across his aging lips. “I recognize yur face.”
Colton grinned and peered at the elder rather dubiously. It had been more than six and ten years since he had last seen the miller, and in that time they had both aged considerably. Indeed, the elder’s hair was now totally white and much more sparse than it had once been. “Are you certain?”
Samuel seemed pleased that he could reply with an affirmative nod. “Though I’ll warrant me legs aren’t as strong as they used ta be, me noggin’s still workin’ fairly well. Aye, yu’re the late Lord Randwulf’s son. Yu’ve the same looks.”
Colton chuckled. “So everyone around here keeps telling me. I can’t seem to fool anyone, and yet I’ve found myself incapable of recognizing any of the townspeople.”
“Sit down, sit down,” the miller urged, motioning toward a nearby chair. “Yur sister kept me up ta date ’bout places yu were at an’ the many conflicts yu fought durin’ different times o’ yur military career. Most o’ the people hereabouts have been mightily impressed wit’ yur heroism. Mainly the stories come from others livin’ outside our area, men what were in yur command an’ others what fought alongside yur regiment.” Samuel chortled suddenly in amusement. “O’ course, me gran’child can’t seem ta talk ’bout anyone else. She told me yu’d been wounded, an’ needed a cane ta get about wit’.”
Settling into the proffered seat, Colton rested the walking stick across his thighs. “Actually, I’m making a little progress. I’ve been taking long walks in an effort to strengthen my leg and have even set myself a goal. The Suttons are giving a ball some weeks from now, and if I intend to dance with any of the fetching ladies I’ve seen in the area, I’ll definitely have to reduce my dependency upon the cane. Otherwise, I’ll be sitting like a peg bored into a stump, glumly watching all the other bachelors doing what I won’t be able to do. That notion appeals to me about as much as getting another wound in my other leg.”
The elderly miller leaned his head back upon his pillows and gave himself over to a moment of hearty mirth. When finally his guffawing ceased, he urged with a twinkle in his eye, “Now don’t go breakin’ yur other leg in yur haste ta get yur lame one workin’ again. If’n yu find a pretty filly, jes’ plead yur infirmity whilst yu lead her ta a dark corner.”
Colton readily responded to the man’s humor with laughter of his own. “You’re a devious man, Mr. Gladstone, but I will be sure to remember your advice if I can’t get this leg working the way I want it to.”
In gentlemanly manner, Colton rose to his feet as Jane followed his sister into the room, but the woman readily motioned him back into his chair.
“No need to trouble yourself, my lord. Please resume your seat while I go make us some tea.”
“Why don’t yu sit an’ visit wit’ us for a spell, Jane,” her father urged. “Yu scurry ’round here seein’ ta me needs, but yu take little time for yurself. I know how much yu enjoy it whene’er Lady Samantha or Lady Adriana come ta visit, so rest yurself an’ enjoy her ladyship’s visit. Mayhap Felicity would consider makin’ the tea today.”
Jane didn’t dare glance at her father for fear of what he would see in her face. He was, after all, a very perceptive man. “Felicity isn’t feeling well today, Papa. She has been in her room all afternoon.”
Samuel Gladstone raised a bushy eyebrow, skeptical of Felicity’s claims of infirmity, which he had noticed were now coming with increasing frequency. For his daughter’s sake, he refrained from making comment. Jane had a good head on her shoulders, of that he was certain, and although she was more patient than he had ever been, he couldn’t fault her for that, for he had not always been wise.
He had come to realize that living in the same house with her family had allowed him insights into characteristics and temperaments to which he wouldn’t have been otherwise privy. It hadn’t taken him long to come to the awareness that he could hardly abide Felicity’s presence in his room. Rather than contend with the harsh, mutinous glares and laborious sighs the girl was wont to unleash upon him after being asked to do him favors, he had decided he’d do his own reading and other tasks, at least as much as he was able. Still, after having only servants doing his bidding since his beloved wife passed on, he had come to appreciate being pampered and coddled by his own sweet, darling daughter.
Jane paused at the door before leaving. “Do you wish me to take the ledgers back to the mill now, Papa? Jarvis will be coming home fairly soon.”
“Aye, ‘tis much as you said. According ta the ledgers, Creighton and some o’ me best workers are still gettin’ paid. We’ll talk ’bout gettin’ the lot o’ ’em in ’ere ta tell me what they think be goin’ on. I fear henceforth yu may be doin’ more’n tendin’ ta me needs, but I couldn’t think o’ anyone I taught any better. Yur accountin’ would rival me own.”
It wasn’t long after tea had been served that Colton and Samantha said their farewells. As soon as Bentley saw them departing Stanover House, he brought the landau directly up the thoroughfare. About that same time, Felicity decided to lay aside her novel and meander across the hall into the front bedroom, the windows of which afforded a panoramic view of the town.
She had barely reached the leaded panes when she caught sight of her mother standing near the lane in front of the house as she waited for Lord Randwulf to hand his sister into his landau. A startled gasp was wrenched from Felicity, not only because she realized the two had come for a visit, but, more disturbing, because they were about to take their leave. In frantic haste, she caught up her skirts and dashed toward the stairs. Her feet were a mere blur of motion as she made a rapid descent from the third story. All the while she sought to smooth her hair and neaten her gown. By the time she arrived at the front portal, she was nearly
breathless, but she dared not pause, knowing she had little time to halt the Wyndhams’ departure. Snatching open the door, she nearly catapulted herself from the Cotswold house. Alas, the driver had already set the fancy steeds in motion.
Racing down the stone walk, Felicity waved frenetically in an attempt to catch the driver’s eye, but even as fast as her slippered feet flew upon the curving path, her efforts proved to no avail. When she reached the end of the walk, the landau was moving smartly down the lane.
Felicity clasped a hand over her racing heart as she wheezed air into her depleted lungs. Still huffing, but now in more ways than one, she whirled upon her parent, thoroughly incensed that she hadn’t been informed of the marquess’s visit. “Why didn’t you tell me Lord Colton was here?”
In spite of her daughter’s indignation, Jane lifted her shoulders in a casual shrug. “You told me you were sick and didn’t feel like being disturbed under any circumstances. I took you at your word.”
“But you should’ve known I’d want to see his lordship!” Felicity railed back and flung out a hand to indicate the conveyance now descending the hill at a brisk pace. “Don’t you care that Lord Colton may never come back because of what you’ve done?”
Jane seemed to turn a deaf ear to her daughter’s arguments as she watched the landau’s departure. “I assumed you were feeling too poorly to entertain visitors. If that was not the case, then you should’ve applied yourself to some of the tasks that needed to be done, and then you wouldn’t have missed Lord Randwulf’s visit.”
“You did that on purpose, didn’t you? To punish me merely because I wasn’t doing your drudgery! Just wait until Papa hears about this! He won’t believe how utterly stupid and petty you’ve been not to let me know his lordship had come to see me—”
“If I were you, young lady, I’d be careful what you say to me,” her mother warned, still staring off into the distance. “You may yet find yourself scrubbing floors before the Suttons’ ball rolls around. And if you prove too belligerent, you’ll find yourself staying home that night in spite of Lady Samantha’s invitation.”
Totally incensed at her mother’s threats, Felicity leaned forward and fairly railed in her ear, “You can’t make me stay at home, not when Papa expects me to go! Now tell me, what feeble excuse did you give his lordship when he asked to see me?”
Highly offended by her daughter’s demands, Jane came around with eyes flaring and swept a hand smartly across her cheek, wrenching a startled gasp from Felicity. In a voice that had grown threateningly cold, Jane advised her offspring, “Don’t ever shout at me like that again or you will wish you hadn’t.”
Clasping a hand to her burning cheek, Felicity gaped back at her mother as if thoroughly convinced the woman had taken leave of her senses. Although she had received swats upon her buttocks whenever she had misbehaved as a child, her mother had never once struck her across the face. “I’m going to tell Papa on you!” she shrieked and burst into tears. “He’ll make you regret your foolishness in not allowing Lord Colton to see me—”
“His lordship didn’t come here to see you,” Jane corrected sharply. “He came here to visit your grandfather, and if you really want to know, he never once mentioned you. Should you wish me to explain that fact to your father, I shall do so. Perhaps it’s time he realizes Lord Randwulf has no intention of marrying below his peerage.”
“Papa believes differently!”
A frustrated sigh escaped her mother’s lips. “As beautiful as you are, I can understand why your father has great hopes for your future, but his efforts to push you toward that end may never come to fruition, Felicity, at least not in the way he’d like. If you throw yourself at titled gentlemen, hoping to gain a place as their wife, you may well come to regret it. You could easily be sullied and then tossed aside, leaving you with very little hope of attracting a respectable husband. Rumors have a way of ruining lives. No man wants spoiled goods.”
“Lord Randwulf would never do that!”
“Although I would expect that Lord Randwulf is like most men in that he’s just as susceptible to a woman’s charms and invitations as the next man, I’m not referring to him or anyone in particular. The poorest scoundrel can pose as much of a hazard to a young, innocent girl as any rich, handsome lord if he knows the right words to entangle a gullible maid’s mind. You’re too naive to realize the risks you could encounter if you throw yourself at them. Although titled lords are deemed gentlemen by society’s standards, I fear more often than not they’re inclined to turn their backs on women who’ve born them bastards and, to avoid disgrace, claim it was some other man’s chit. If you yield to any of them, then you’ll likely reap untold sorrow. . . .”
“You’re just jealous, that’s all,” Felicity accused acidly. “You can’t bear the thought that I’m still young and beautiful and whatever looks you once had are gone because of hard work and toil. No wonder Papa loves me and not you!”
Jane staggered back a step, shocked by her daughter’s accusation. “Well, I guess I really hadn’t thought too much about his love for me. Perhaps I’ve been too trusting myself, but I suppose I shall have to lend consideration to that possibility. In any case, it changes nothing. You will make every effort to improve your disposition and learn proper respect for your elders or I shall be forced to take matters into my own hands.”
“What do you mean by that?” the younger woman asked curtly.
“If any of Lord Wellington’s foes had asked him to define his plans before he had set them in motion, I’m sure he would’ve declined, and so shall I, for ‘tis apparent that you and I are seriously at odds. My main concern as your parent is teaching you proper respect, not only for me, but for others as well. From now on, you won’t be lounging in your room when there are chores to be done. Nor will you threaten mayhem upon Lucy or any of the other servants in order to get them to complete your tasks. And if you think your father is going to negate what I say, I wouldn’t depend too much on that premise if I were you. He’ll be too worried about correcting his own actions to concern himself about your many complaints.”
Felicity peered at her mother closely, trying to discern her meaning. “What are you saying?”
“That really doesn’t concern you, Felicity. ‘Tis a matter strictly between your father, grandfather, and myself. Just be aware that henceforth you will either complete my directives or you will have to answer to me . . . and to me alone.”
It seemed Roger’s good fortune that, on the very same morning he had been wondering how he could resume his courtship of Adriana, he espied Lord Randwulf’s coach making a departure from the Gladstones’ residence. That fact allowed him an opportunity to ride over to Wakefield Manor to report what he had seen to Adriana and to offer several considerations, which had been obvious to everyone from the very beginning, that Felicity was thoroughly taken with the marquess and that, quite possibly, Randwulf was also interested in her.
Nine
* * *
Christina mentally braced herself for the ordeal of meeting their guests as their butler decorously announced that Lord Randwulf and his mother were awaiting the Suttons’ presence in the drawing room. “Thank you, Charles. Please inform my husband of their arrival.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Several moments later, Christina rapped her thin knuckles on the door of her youngest daughter’s bedchamber. “The Wyndhams are here, dear. Are you ready?”
Adriana sighed pensively. As much as she had loved and admired Sedgwick Wyndham from her earliest years, his son set her whole world out of kilter. Merely the memory of his angry explosion years ago left her feeling as skittish as a cat facing a pack of hunting dogs. Yet, when she thought of that moment when she had awakened to find him standing beside the tub in the bathing chamber, her senses quickened with the awareness that he could be hers if only he’d relent and agree to their betrothal. Still, after Roger had informed her that he had seen the man’s carriage outside Stanover House, she could only con
clude that Colton had been visiting Felicity. Of late, the two had been together far more than what could be ascertained as merely chance meetings.
Perhaps Melora had been right all along, Adriana mused morosely. She didn’t want to face the shame of Colton’s rejection. What woman would willingly invite such disgrace? It would be doubly hard, knowing that after seeing her entirely bereft of clothing, he still preferred Felicity. That would be an insult she wouldn’t likely get over too easily.
Had there not been looming over her head the very real threat that she’d cause her parents shame, Adriana knew she wouldn’t have even thought twice about the matter before making good her escape. She’d have slipped out to the stables and raced off on the back of Ulysses to some far-off place she knew not where. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time she had absconded when presented with the prospect of entertaining a visitor she’d been averse to see. Melora would promptly deem her a coward, but if Colton Wyndham’s vehement outburst years ago had been able to raise the hair off the back of her neck, then she entertained little doubt that, after disciplining his troops during his lengthy career as an officer, he had acquired the skill to flay the hide off his victims with nothing more than his keenly edged tongue.
Still, whatever she would experience or suffer while confronting the nobleman, she knew there’d be no escaping her own pledge, which she had given at the actual signing of the contract. An honest man’s word is as good as his bond, her father had often quoted while schooling his daughters in exemplary behavior. Gyles Sutton would expect nothing less from her.
The Reluctant Suitor Page 24
