Longing for a Liberating Love: A Historical Regency Romance Book

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Longing for a Liberating Love: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 5

by Bridget Barton


  She leaned down as they walked. “Jinx, you were dearly loved by your father, and it doesn’t matter what other little boys you meet in your life. You will always be the most special boy in my heart, do you believe that?”

  “I do, Mama.”

  They were at the carriage now, loading up inside. Jinx scurried onto the seat and pressed his face against the opposite window to watch the well-wishers take their leave.

  Alina clamored in after him, her emotions welling into her throat. She had almost gotten to safety when Theo’s hand appeared in the door, stopping it from closing.

  “Don’t say anything,” she said, cutting him off, the composure she’d been clinging to throughout the event beginning to crumble.

  He opened his mouth, then closed it again. His eyes said what his words did not. He looked miserable, desperate, and angry. She nodded her head, acknowledging his compassion, and he closed the door and sent them on their way.

  Chapter 5

  “Mr. Matthew Hartley is waiting for you inside, my lady.”Georges greeted Alina at the door, his face lined with concern. “He said he was at the funeral service and came to see you afterwards.”

  Alina had been hoping to come home to a quiet house, collapse onto the bed, and sleep away the weary feeling that permeated her bones. Instead, she was facing yet another mourner who would undoubtedly want to talk about Jonas. Matthew Hartley—that was Jonas’ younger brother. She hardly ever saw him, though she knew he was often with Jonas during their London revelries. She set her jaw and, trailed by Jinx, made her way into the drawing room.

  Matthew was leaning against the mantelpiece, tall, cocky, and elegant. He turned to her with a charming smile plastered on his languid face and bowed in solemn greeting. “A pleasure to see you again, Alina.”

  She had always hated the way he used her first name, but when she’d once tried to correct him, Jonas had interrupted and told her that if Matthew wanted to call her by her first name, he was allowed to. For Jonas, a woman’s idea of respect was nothing weighted against a man’s, especially that of his own brother.

  “Matthew.” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as cold as she felt.

  “And this must be little Jonas. You’ve grown so much since I last saw you.”

  “My name’s Jinx,” the little boy offered up, hiding behind Alina’s skirts.

  “Jinx—that name won’t suit you in the business world. Best to start using your father’s name now, keep his legacy fresh for when you need it to fight your battles on the wharves.”

  Alina pursed her lips together. She wanted her son to grow up without Jonas’ foul legacy, not leaning on it like a twisted crutch.

  “Jinx, say goodbye to your uncle and then run on up to your room.”

  Jinx obeyed immediately, bowing to the man and taking his leave of the room. Alina took a deep breath and forced a weak smile. “Please, take a seat, Matthew. You obviously came here with a purpose.”

  “I think my brother’s untimely death is purpose enough, don’t you?” He took a seat anyway, watching her with sharp, cat-like eyes.

  She followed suit, crossing her legs at the ankles and folding her hands in her lap. “Of course it is. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Alina,” he said, having adopted the tone of an older man speaking to a child, “you are perhaps aware that my brother was a very wealthy man. He owned many merchant vessels and had a thriving business between here and the Indies.”

  She resisted the urge to layer sarcasm into her response. “I am aware.”

  “Then you are perhaps also aware that my task as my brother’s business representative is to ascertain the extent of his estate and make certain it is allotted fairly to the shareholders and other people who have a vested interest.”

  “I was not aware that you were Jonas’ business representative. Mr. Pendleton has been handling my husband’s finances.” She struggled to stay calm.

  “I don’t expect you to understand the complexities of trade,” Matthew went on as though he hadn’t heard her, leveling an indulgent smile in her direction, “but surely you don’t expect to have any rights to your husband’s property?”

  “I assumed my son, as Jonas’ sole heir, would have rights.”

  “And who is to guide him? You? A woman?”

  A knock on the door and a cleared throat interrupted Alina’s response. Georges stepped into the room and gave a little bow. “Mr. Pendleton, my lady.”

  Alina didn’t know what would have convinced Theo to follow her home after their curt interaction at the cemetery, but she felt a sudden wave of gratitude and gave an audible sigh of relief. “Please, show him in.”

  Matthew stood in frustration. “Is this really the time?”

  “As I said before, Mr. Pendleton handled Jonas’ finances, and is therefore in a better position to discuss such matters than I.” She paused, smiling sweetly. “After all, I am, as you have so cleverly observed, a woman.”

  Matthew bit his tongue, for the moment defeated. They stood facing each other in silence for a few beats and then Theo was there, still wearing his riding coat, bowing with the same distant dignity that he always had around Alina.

  “Mrs. Hartley. I’m sorry to have to intrude—” He paused, glancing from Alina to Matthew with a worried frown. “I had some documents of your husband’s that I need to go over with you. Today’s event didn’t seem the proper place.”

  “Of course not. Thank you for coming, Mr. Pendleton. I’m at present engaged in a discussion with Mr. Matthew Hartley, my late husband’s brother, about the estate.”

  ***

  Theo took a step further into the room, anger building in his chest. “Is now the best time for such a discussion?”

  He could see it all in one sweeping glance. Matthew Hartley, standing over Alina with his strong shoulders set at an intimidating angle, his keen eyes zeroing in on her as if on weak prey. Alina, still in the black silk from the funeral, her skin creamy white against the black lace, her hair glimmering under the candlelight, her slender fingers gripping the back of a chair.

  Matthew took a step forward, on the offensive. “I think we’ve had six months of certainty where I have held my tongue out of respect. Now, I feel I have the right to speak. Alina—”

  “Mrs. Hartley,” Theo corrected him coldly.

  “She has limited rights to Jonas’ property and cannot be expected to control such a vast fortune without a man to guide her. I am Jonas’ younger brother, and I have both a right and a claim to his wealth. At the very least, I ought to be his son’s trustee, and he ought to be my ward.”

  “Ward?” Alina gasped, her voice soft and frightened. “You would take my son away from me?”

  “You cannot be expected to raise him and to manage the estate.”

  “Now, see here.” Theo advanced to the center of the room, his anger boiling. “You have come to discuss the estate of a dead man before the soil has covered the coffin. Mrs. Hartley is her son’s legal guardian, and such a situation will hardly be changing simply because of her husband’s untimely death.”

  “You are being idealistic, good sir.”

  “No,” Theo snapped. “I’m being realistic. You have come to pick at the bones of the estate while it is still alive and healthy. There is no legal reason why you should take over either ownership or caretaking responsibilities at present—and if you push this case, I can guarantee you that I will be the barrister appearing opposite you in the courtroom.”

  “Calm down, good sir.” Matthew raised his hands in mock defeat. “Perhaps we should discuss this in a separate room, away from the lady.”

  “The lady in question is intricately connected with the case, and if you wish to discuss the matter further I am afraid I will have to insist that she be present.”

  Theo caught a glance of thankfulness from Alina, and Matthew followed the look with a snide smile. “I see. You think because you handled the finances of a wealthy man for a few meagre years, you are entitled to speak to
high-born men as though you were equals?” He took a step closer, peering down his nose at Theo, and for a fleeting moment Theo feared the confrontation would come to blows.

  Then, inexplicably, Matthew stepped back. “Perhaps you are right. Now is not the time to discuss the estate.”

  There was a moment of startled, strained silence before Alina cleared her throat. “I thank you for your consideration.” She reached out and rang the bell, calling for tea. When the maids brought the tray in to lay upon the table, Matthew took a piece of cake between his cultured fingers and ate it appreciatively, as though he hadn’t been bullying the lady of the house only moments before.

  Theo felt a lurch of dislike in his gut. He was uncertain what Matthew’s scheme was, but he knew he didn’t like the man. He took the proffered cup of tea gingerly, sipping it awkwardly and keeping his eyes on Alina all the while.

  “My dear Alina,” Matthew went on, using that infuriatingly disrespectful term yet again, “there’s a girl here—Willa, I believe—who was once the housekeeper’s daughter and now is a ladies’ maid?”

  “She’s my ladies’ maid,” Alina corrected warily.

  “She has been with the house since I lived here, and I’d very much like to speak with her. Would that be alright with you?”

  Theo felt there was something afoot, but Alina seemed too exhausted to notice. She nodded. “Of course. I’ll ring for her at once.”

  When the woman arrived, she seemed happy to see her former young master. She curtsied, and answered with bashful smiles when he spoke to her.

  “You’ve done well for yourself,” he said to her. “You’ve given great service to our family through the years, and I know even after the sad passing of my brother, I can count on you to be loyal to the Hartley name.”

  “Of course, sir. It’s very sad, sir.” She curtsied again, blushing.

  Theo watched the interaction with a sinking feeling. It had the flavor of falsehood about it, as though it was a charade designed for their benefit. He turned to see what Alina thought, and his heart lurched at the sight of her sitting listlessly in the cradle of the chaise, her teacup loose in her fingers, her eyes drifting out the window and beyond to something unseen and untouchable.

  “Do you find your position here worthwhile?” Matthew was saying. Theo was surprised. In his experience, it was considered an embarrassment for the high-born members of society to waste too much breath on servants. Here, Matthew seemed to be fairly showering the girl with compliments and interest.

  “I do sir. It’s a good position.”

  “I’m sure you do it credit.” Matthew stood, giving Willa a little nod and then turning a distracted face to Alina. “Well, sister. I must take my leave of you. I can see my presence here is doing more harm than good, and I will go at present, offering my heartfelt condolences to the widow.”

  Theo watched him leave, his skin crawling with the realization that Jonas’ brother seemed no more devastated over his brother’s death than Theo was. It was greed, not love or loyalty or devotion that had driven him here to Alina’s doorstep with questions of inheritance.

  “Is that all, my lady?” Willa asked Alina, blushing still with Matthew’s praise. “I can bring you more tea, or tend to Master Jinx, or perhaps you’d like a little walk outside? It seems it might rain later, but—”

  “Please, Willa. I need some time to think.” Alina held her hand up, her voice brusquer than Theo had ever before heard it. The serving girl shut her mouth, a shuttered expression of distaste flitting momentarily across her face. She gave a curt little bow and left the room, leaving Alina and Theo alone at last. Alina walked to the window to watch Matthew’s carriage roll away, her hand on the window sash and her face pointing toward the light.

  “I shouldn’t have spoken to her that way,” she said at last, and Theo wondered if she was speaking to him or to herself. “It was unkind of me, and she only meant well. That man…he just rattles me. We’ve only met on occasion, and the interaction was never a good one.”

  “I’m sure your typical goodness to Willa outweighs any words of an unkind nature,” Theo assured her after a moment’s thought.

  Alina turned to him, her eyes alight with some sweet thing he couldn’t name. “Mr. Pendleton, I have no words for how grateful I am to your services today, and every day since my husband’s passing. You have been very kind and very steady. Thank you for defending me against Matthew Hartley. I fear he is unsuited to the position of gentleman in times like these.”

  Theo felt his heart swell in his throat. He wanted to go to her, to tell her that he needed nothing from her—not even her gratitude—but he couldn’t bridge the gap put up by society. The parlour room gaped silent and empty between them. He turned his hat in his hands.

  “Anything you need, Mrs. Hartley.”

  Alina seemed suddenly to melt, as though all the carefully curated energy she’d maintained over the last six months had finally drained away into nothingness. She sank down onto the window seat and leaned her head against the frame.

  Theo knew he should leave, should turn away from the woman who sat in front of him so close and yet so distant, but in the end, he couldn’t. Instead, he summoned his courage and stepped forward.

  Chapter 6

  Alina closed her eyes, hoping Theo would melt away out of the room quietly, respectfully, leaving her alone with the worries that coursed through her mind and the fears that chased them close behind.

  There was something about Theodore Pendleton that she couldn’t place—something about the way that he looked at her and treated her took her off guard. It wasn’t entirely unwelcome, but it wasn’t entirely safe, either. She had lived her life with Jonas feeling foolish and little and fragile. Around Theo, however, she felt strong and capable. She felt as though he listened to her when she spoke. While she appreciated all this, chocking it up to his general good nature and respectful manner with all people, every so often over the past few months, she’d gotten the same feeling she had just then—that if Mr. Theodore Pendleton were to really turn those dark eyes in her direction, if he were to reach out a hand to her in true kindness, she would be in danger of falling off her imperious, distant emotional throne.

  She opened her eyes again and was surprised to see that he had not left. Rather, he was a few steps closer to her, and there was that look, again, in his eye. She swallowed, pulling her head away from the edge of the window.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Pendleton. It was lax of me to assume you would be gone.”

  “Mrs. Hartley.” He came to her with a barely constrained urgency and sat beside on her on the couch. Not too close, necessarily, but still not a business distance, either. She thought, as the words left his mouth, that it was only his mouth that ever said the words “Mrs. Hartley” in a manner that honoured her. She’d hated the very name so often before, but from Theo, it sounded respectful and kind. He leaned closer and repeated the words softer, kinder. “Mrs. Hartley, I know today has been a trial for you.”

  She twisted the handkerchief in her lap, looking at it—only it. She knew better than to raise her eyes and risk whatever was lingering in Theo’s gaze.

  “That woman—” he continued, and she stiffened, but he pressed on, “she had no right to come.”

  “We needn’t speak of this.”

  “It was a mockery of the event, and an insult to you. Everyone there understood as much, and no one condoned her behavior.”

  “Please,” she said softly, but he must have misunderstood in his desperation to comfort her.

 

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