Summer's Distant Heart (Seasons Book 3)

by Laura Landon

  “Would you care for something stronger than tea, Lord Atherton?” Lady Collinson gave a flick of her wrist toward the sideboard as they entered the room.

  “Yes, I believe I would,” Hunter answered, then stopped at the modest arrangement of crystal decanters. “If I may?”

  Receiving the lady’s permission, Hunter lifted the brandy decanter and filled a glass. “Would you care for anything?”

  “Yes, I believe I’d like a glass of sherry.”

  Hunter handed Lady Collinson her sherry, then sat in the chair opposite her.

  “Thank you, Lord Atherton.”

  Hunt took a small swallow of his brandy. He refrained from drinking the entire glass like he wanted to do. He refrained from drinking the entire decanter like he wanted to do. Instead, he took another small sip.

  “Montclaire, if you please,” he corrected. “I am no longer the Earl of Atherton.”

  “Yes, but surely you see that you must retain the title,” a voice said from the open doorway. His brother’s wife entered the room and closed the door behind her. “For all intents and purposes, you must remain the Earl of Atherton for the foreseeable future.”

  Lady Atherton paused at the sideboard and poured herself a glass of wine. She sat in the chair between himself and her aunt.

  Hunter tried not to stare, but he couldn’t take his eyes from her. She wasn’t at all like the woman he thought his brother would marry. Every bone in her body exuded courage and determination. He thought the woman his brother would be drawn to would be softer, more naïve. This woman had a strength that Hunter couldn’t help but admire.

  His brother’s widow took another sip of her wine, then placed the half-empty glass on the table before her. She sat back in her chair and leveled him a hard look.

  “Why are you here, my lord?”

  “That should be obvious, my lady. To discover if my brother had a child and if that child was his heir.”

  Lady Atherton’s eyes closed for a moment as if his directness pierced her resolve. “How did you find out about the child?”

  “My brother told me.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “He knew he was dying and asked me to give you this.” Hunter reached into his pocket and took out the letter Evan had written. When she took it, he turned his gaze away from her to offer what little privacy he could.

  She didn’t open the letter while seated there, but rose from her chair and walked to the window. He heard the paper rustle when she unfolded it, then waited in silence while she read.

  He heard the silent sobs and saw her shoulders shudder in pain. He should have known how upsetting it would be to read her husband’s letter. He was sure his brother had poured his heart and soul out in the words he wrote.

  After several long moments, his brother’s widow turned to face him. “Does your father know Evan and…I…were married?”

  “No. He doesn’t.”

  “You know he can never find out, don’t you?”

  Hunter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes, I know. Neither you nor the babe will be safe if he becomes aware you and Evan were married and there is a child.”

  Lady Atherton folded the letter and placed it in the pocket of her skirt. “What are your intentions, Lord Atherton?”

  “I intend to take my brother’s child and keep him safe.”

  “That, sir, I cannot allow. I will not permit you to take George away from me. He is mine. Mine!”

  Somehow her anguish startled him. Hunter blanched. He wasn’t a completely unfeeling cad, even though he’d just indicated he intended to remove her child from her care.

  It was the child he’d been concerned for. He could provide for the child’s safety, ensure the babe grew into manhood prepared to carry his title. It hadn’t for a moment occurred to him that the solution he offered would rend in two the heart of the babe’s own mother, the woman his own brother had loved with his whole being.

  What a brute he was. How could he have been so single-minded as to even think such a solution might be even remotely acceptable?

  “But Lady Atherton. You can’t keep him safe.”

  “I can! No one knows I am here.”

  “How long do you think you can stay hidden? It didn’t take me but a few weeks to discover your whereabouts.”

  “That was only because your brother told you about me.”

  “And how long do you think it will be before my father discovers your existence? I knew my brother better than anyone. I can almost guarantee you that in his letter he explained that he would take care of you. Did he promise that he’d left money so you and the babe would be looked after?”

  The swiftness with which the lady’s eyelids lowered answered his question.

  “Yes,” Lia said, recalling the words in Lord Atherton’s letter. “He said he opened an account in a certain bank in London. He instructed me to withdraw the money and deposit it in any bank I chose.”

  “How long do you imagine it will take my father to discover Evan’s money has been placed in an account bearing your name?”

  Evan’s wife staggered forward and sank into her chair. The little color she’d previously had in her cheeks faded until she was as pale as the white plaster of the marble statues in the hallway.

  She turned her gaze to her aunt. “What are we to do, Aunt?”

  “I’m not sure, Janice. I was certain I could hide you here and keep you safe, but now I’m not sure.”

  Hunter reached for his sister-in-law’s glass of wine and filled it, then handed it back to her.

  “There is only one choice I can think of, Lady Atherton.”

  She took a sip of her wine, then looked at him. Her eyes were wide with fright and her hands trembled so violently the wine in her glass sloshed back and forth.

  “What is that?”

  Hunter made sure her aunt was included in the conversation. He didn’t want her to feel left out. This had as much to do with her as it did with her niece.

  “My father and I have never been able to tolerate one another. Evan was his favorite and I was…well, I was a failure in his eyes.” Hunter took a sip of his brandy and kept his gaze focused on the ladies. “I knew the day would come when I would be forced to escape his wrath, so I took my inheritance and purchased an estate of my own. Father has no idea I own it. He thinks a town house in London is my only place of residence. I intend to take you to my estate, Rainwood Place. You’ll be quite safe there.”

  She bounded to her feet. “No. I cannot share a home with you. That’s impossible. I will stay here with my aunt.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t let you live on your own. There’s no telling what might happen to you.”

  “Then I will write to my brothers and ask one of them to come stay with me.”

  “What good will that do, my lady? Are they acquainted with my father?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Do they know any of the men my father might send to find you?”

  “No, but—”

  “But nothing, my lady. You may have one of your brothers accompany us, but you will stay at my residence and I will look out for you and my nephew.”

  The look on Lady Atherton’s face as she stared at her aunt tore at his heart. Staying with him wasn’t an option she wished to consider but she knew how limited her choices were.

  “How long will it take for one of your brothers to join us?” he asked.

  “If it’s Miles, he can no doubt be here in a matter of a day or two.”

  “Then write to him and ask him to make all haste.”

  Hunter watched as George’s mother clenched her hands tightly in her lap and worried her bottom lip.

  “Is there another way, Aunt?” she asked looking at the dowager viscountess with desperation in her eyes.

  “If there is, my dear, I do not see it.”

  The lady’s beautiful brown eyes filled with tears.

  “There isn’t,” Hunter said, the finality of his words ringing harshly
even to his own ears.

  “There has to be,” she implored. There was a frantic quality in her voice.

  “There isn’t,” he repeated. “And I cannot understand why you are so desperate to avoid doing the one thing that will keep your baby safe.”

  Her head shot upward. Her gaze when she looked at him nearly took him to his knees. Because her eyes were filled with terror.

  . . . .

  Of course he couldn’t understand why she was so hesitant to do the one thing that would keep the baby safe. He had no idea the babe was not hers, and if he ever discovered that fact there would be nothing she could do to keep him from taking her sister’s child.

  Even though he was just an infant, little George was now the Earl of Atherton. He’d inherited the title from his father. He was next in line to be the Marquess of Trentridge. There was no court in the land that would side with Lia if the Marquess of Trentridge tried to take the babe away from her.

  Lia rose from her chair and paced the room. No matter the choices she gave herself, none of them protected the babe from the marquess. The man standing before her was the only man capable of protecting her sister’s child.

  “Very well, my lord.”

  Lia felt as though a heavy weight had descended on her and had pressed the air from her body.

  “My lady,” he said as she continued her nervous pacing. “There are several other matters I need to discuss with you. In private. Perhaps in the garden?”

  Lia turned her gaze to her aunt who nodded her approval for Lia to join Lord Atherton in the garden. Lia dreaded the thought of being alone with him. The more they conversed, the greater her chances were that she would reveal something that would cause him to question what she told him. The greater her chances of revealing even the smallest detail that might give him cause to question her claim that she was the baby’s mother.

  Yet, what choice did she have?

  Without acknowledging him, she walked to the glass doors that led to the terrace, then descended the three steps that led to a cultured, walled garden. The night was perfect, a beautiful summer’s evening.

  Lia had always been fond of the out-of-doors. Of all manner of flowering plants. The garden was rich with blooming shrubs and flowers of all kinds. She and her sister had spent many hours sharing the swing that hung from the garden’s central shade tree when they’d come to stay with Aunt Mildred for Jannie’s confinement.

  Janice had shared whispered details of her time with Lord Atherton, and how and where they met. She’d told Lia of the exact moment she knew she loved her blond earl. Lia was sure she knew as much about their relationship as there was to know.

  “Where did you meet my brother?” he asked.

  “At university, my lord. My father is a professor at Cambridge and Evan and I met at a musicale. We happened to sit next to each other and we struck up a conversation that I found engaging. Your brother was one of the most interesting men I had ever met.”

  “Did you ever hear him play the pianoforte?”

  Lia smiled and lifted her gaze. She remembered how Janice talked about the man she loved and how much she admired everything he did. “His music was as charming as he was himself.” Each time she thought of Janice’s description of her husband’s musical skill, she wished that she herself could have heard him play.

  “Yes,” Lord Atherton said on a sigh.

  “Do you share that same gift, my lord?”

  “Alas, no, I do not. I play tolerably well until I’m put up against an eight-year old. Then, I’m found quite wanting. To be bluntly honest, there weren’t many things I could do equally as well as Evan.”

  Lia stopped. “Are those your father’s words, my lord, or your own?”

  His eyes narrowed and the darkness in his gaze caused her a moment’s pause. “And what, pray tell, do you know of my father?”

  “Only what Evan told me, but that was enough to know you were constantly the recipient of all manner of criticism. You were also at loggerheads with your father on a daily basis. Which is why you went out on your own at such an early age.” Lia prayed she’d remembered that part right.

  “I think if my brother were here at this moment I might rebuke him for his openness when discussing me.”

  Lia lowered her gaze, relieved to know she had, after all, remembered correctly. “Evan and I shared everything, my lord. I think he wanted me to know everything about him. It was as if he knew he wouldn’t be here to watch his son grow to manhood and he wanted someone to be able to tell him everything there was to know about him.”

  “How long did you know each other before you married?”

  “Nearly a year.”

  “Where were you married?”

  “In Scotland. It was quite simple to arrange it there.”

  “Were you carrying his son before you married?”

  Lia paused in her circuit around the shade tree. What good would it do for Lord Atherton to know Jannie was pregnant with his brother’s child before they wed?

  After a short hesitation, she stepped forward and sat in the swing. Lord Atherton stepped aside and leaned a shoulder against the tree’s trunk.

  “Do you think it’s possible that your father won’t find out about his grandson?”

  “Do you want the truth?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, no. Eventually he’ll find out about you and your son. And when he does—”

  Lia thrust herself from the swing and lost her balance as her feet sought purchase. Before she could right herself, Lord Atherton’s hand reached out and he caught her. His arm wrapped around her waist and he pulled her to him.

  Every muscle in her body stiffened. Every nerve sparked as if struck by lightning. She experienced the strangest pull on her heart when she clasped her hands around his arms in an effort to support herself.

  Their gazes locked in shock and surprise. His brows lowered and a lethal frown deepened across his forehead. His eyes turned dark and dangerous. His arms held her firmly for several moments, then he dropped his hands from her body as if she’d burned him.

  His body stiffened and he took a distinct step away from her.

  The electric moment defied belief. Lia forced herself to banish the unwelcome sensation that lingered on her flesh. She couldn’t be affected by something as simple as his touch.

  Not by him.

  Not by a man with a title.

  Janice may have found her great love in the arms of her handsome young earl, but Lia’s experience had not been so kind. Never again would she expose her heart to a man who might steal it, then stomp it beneath the heel of his boot. A man who might leave her for a prettier woman with a fine name and a huge dowry. A woman whose father boasted a far grander title than university professor.

  Lia turned and walked away from Hunter Montclaire. This time she was certain he had no intention of following her. But his voice called to her as she entered the house.

  “How soon can you and your aunt be ready to travel?”

  She didn’t turn. She didn’t want to answer his question but she didn’t have a choice. She didn’t have a choice in anything. Not if she wanted her son—no, her sister’s son—to be safe.

  “Soon,” she answered, then stepped into the dark cool of the drawing room. Thankfully, her aunt was no longer there and Lia could escape to the nursery.

  She picked up little George and held him as the reality of her situation enveloped her. She had no choice but to go with Atherton.

  It was the only way George would be safe.

  Chapter 4

  Hunter fumed his way across Lady Collinson’s terrace. His steps were long and angry.

  What the hell had just happened? He raked his hand down his face as if he could wipe the events of the last fifteen minutes from his memory.

  Just the feel of his flesh touching hers through layers of clothing had caused a tumultuous reaction that he’d never experienced before.

  He couldn’t allow himself to unleash emotions like this
. He was incapable of caring for anyone. Caring for someone meant you could not live your life without them. Just like his father hadn’t been able to live without Hunter’s mother and had spent the rest of his life hating the son who was responsible for her death.

  No. He would not allow himself to care for anyone.

  “Lord Atherton?” a soft voice said from behind him.

  Hunter turned to find himself looking into the concerned gaze of the dowager viscountess. The lady’s butler followed her carrying a tray with crystal decanters and glasses. He placed the tray on the terrace table and left them.

  “Lady Collinson,” Hunter answered, executing a perfect bow. “I didn’t expect that you’d still be about.”

  “I was waiting for you.” She pointed to a nearby chair. “Please, sit down.”

  Hunter waited until Lady Collinson sat, then walked to the table.

  “Would you care for something to drink?” she asked.

  “Yes, my lady. I would. May I pour you something?”

  “Yes. Sherry, please.”

  Hunter poured Lady Collinson a glass of sherry, then poured a snifter of brandy for himself. He needed something strong after the conversation he’d had with his sister-in-law. And after the way he’d reacted to her nearness.

  “My maid tells me my niece was upset when she returned to the house.”

  Hunter took a swallow of his brandy. “Yes. I’m afraid the outcome of our conversation wasn’t what your niece wanted to hear.”

  “Do not judge her too harshly, my lord. This hasn’t been easy for her. She has found herself in a position she neither wanted nor expected.”

  “No, I don’t imagine she did want it. But neither did I.” Hunter watched the liquid slosh as he turned the glass in circles with his thumb and forefinger.

  “Of course not, my lord.”

  “Why do you insist on referring to me by my brother’s title when you know I am no longer in possession of it?”