by Laura Landon
“But the babe was a boy,” Miles finished for her. “The Earl of Atherton.”
“And, the future Marquess of Trentridge.”
“Bloody hell,” Miles hissed through his teeth.
Her brother sat forward and turned to face her. “Are you afraid that Montclaire intends to do the child harm?”
“No, not him. He isn’t at all jealous of the child. He never relished the idea of being the next Earl of Atherton. In fact, he doesn’t want the title.”
“And you believe him?”
“I think so…no, I actually do.”
“Then why is he here?”
“At his brother’s request. To protect the babe.”
“Protect him? From whom?”
“From George’s grandfather. From the Marquess of Trentridge.”
“Why?” Miles asked in disbelief. “You’d think the marquess would be ecstatic to have an heir from his firstborn son.”
“He might be if Jannie had come from a titled family. But she was a commoner. The Marquess of Trentridge refused to allow them to marry. He forbade them from ever seeing each other.”
“So, Lord Montclaire is here to protect the babe from his own father.”
Lia pressed deeper into Miles’ shoulder. “He intends to take us to his estate north of here so we can hide George there. His father knows nothing of the place.”
“For how long?”
Lia breathed a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. I imagine until his father has come to terms with the fact that his heir is a child of less than six months and the son of a commoner. Or, until his father is dead.”
“Oh, Lia. What a mess you’ve been thrown into.”
“Yes, Miles. This is why I am forced to pretend to be Jannie. If Lord Montclaire discovers I’m not George’s mother, I will have no hold on the babe at all. I’m only his aunt, after all. Lord Montclaire is the next in line to the earldom after George. And the third in line to the Marquess of Trentridge. He has more right to the babe than I do and can take him in the blink of an eye.”
“So, the babe in the nursery is the Earl of Atherton?” Miles said rubbing Lia’s arm.
“Yes. He is the earl.”
“And you’re sure the babe is in no danger from Montclaire?”
“It may seem strange, but I feel he’s been absolutely truthful about it. He has no love for his father. According to Montclaire as well as what Jannie told me, the Marquess of Trentridge and Lord Montclaire have always been at odds. There’s no reason for him to want to turn the babe over to his father. In fact, I believe he is certain his father will do the babe harm.”
“Oh, Lia. No wonder you’ve been so worried.”
“Things will be better now, though. You’re here. Everything will be fine.”
The reassuring smile she tried to give her brother failed to reach her eyes. And she knew it. Perhaps she just needed a fortifying night’s sleep. Morning would come soon enough, and at least now she would have an ally when she faced the looming problems—the most worrisome of which seemed to be the formidable Lord Hunter Montclaire.
Lia shivered. Why was she so damnably cold?
Chapter 7
Hunter rose the next morning to find Lady Atherton’s brother at the breakfast table.
“Good morning, Halloway,” he said in greeting. “You’re up and about early.”
“Army habit, no doubt. Now that it’s actually possible to indulge myself with a lie-in, I find it absolutely impossible to do so.”
Hunter filled a plate and sat down across from Halloway.
“My sister tells me you’ll be taking us to your secret lair.”
Hunter chuckled, enjoying Halloway’s easy humor.
“Yes. We’ll leave for Rainwood as soon as we’re ready. If we can be on our way before noon, we should arrive before nightfall.”
“And you are sure your father doesn’t know about this place?”
“As sure as I can be about anything where my father is involved.”
“And if he discovers its existence?”
“He has not done so in the past six years. If he does so now, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Hunter turned his direct gaze on Lia’s brother. “Make no mistake, Halloway. We don’t know that my father has any idea that the babe exists. We don’t know that there is any kind of plan to harm the child. But,” he paused to make sure his next words were heard, “we don’t know that there is not.”
Halloway nodded, his eyes communicating that he clearly understood. He continued to eat his breakfast as he brooded over the malevolent possibilities. Neither of them spoke again until Lady Atherton entered the room.
Everything about her showed careful attention to propriety, and she carried it off with a grace that quite charmed Hunter. Her bearing showed that she was still on guard around him, and yet her face revealed a serenity that seemed impossible for a woman in her situation. Either she had come to terms with his need to keep her child safe, or she was a marvelous actress.
As he watched her, he was stricken by an uncomfortable clench of his stomach. She was a most entrancing woman—alluring in a way he’d not noticed until this very moment. Even as his mind assessed her in these calculating terms, his body responded in a much more human fashion.
The men stood.
“Good morning, Lady Atherton,” Hunter said with a bow.
“Good morning, Jannie,” her brother said.
“Good morning, gentlemen.”
She walked to the sideboard and placed a sparse amount of food on her plate, then sat beside her brother.
“I’d ask how you slept last night,” her brother said, “but it’s obvious by the darkness beneath your eyes that you didn’t get enough sleep.”
The lady blessed her brother with a smile. “Thank you for your compliment, Miles. I’ve always been partial to blues and grays. I wear them with pride.”
Her brother raised a glass in toast and winked at her rebuttal.
“I have had a thought, my lord,” she said, turning her attention to the Earl of Atherton.
“And that is?” her brother prodded.
“I tire of using titles. I find them bothersome. From now on, please call me Jannie. It is what I am accustomed to being called.”
Hunter eyed her. It was a bit soon for such familiarity. What was she playing at? He swallowed his suspicions and decided to play along. “And please, call me Hunter. Or Hunt, if you prefer.”
“There, now that we have that settled, we should be more at ease with one another.”
Hunter watched as Lady Atherton ate a few more bites, then rose to take her leave. “I must go to the nursery and make sure Frannie has everything ready for the trip.”
“Yes,” Hunter said, then rose, too. “I’ll go with you if you don’t mind. In case there’s something that needs tending to.”
“Of course,” she answered.
“After I finish breakfast,” Miles added, “I’ll check on the horses and get them saddled. Unless you arrived by carriage?”
“Mine is the gray gelding,” Hunter answered.
He walked from the room at Lady Atherton’s side. When they reached the stairs, he held out his hand for her to take.
He noted the merest breath of hesitation before she placed her hand on his arm and he waited, positive that this time when she touched him he would feel no attraction to her. But his certainty merely proved just how wrong one poor fool could be. When her hand touched his, Hunter’s flesh warmed as if on fire. The feel of her flesh against his was almost more than he could bear.
She felt it, too. Her eyes lifted to lock with his and her cheeks darkened. The startled expression on her face was nearly his undoing.
“Excuse me,” she whispered. “I…I…” She lifted her hand from his arm and dropped it her side, then stumbled and he was forced to wrap his arm around her waist and assist her to the top of the stairs. She separated herself from him the second they reached the landing.
She
shook her head. “I don’t know what came over me,” she said as an apology. “I believe the lack of sleep is catching up with me.”
“And lack of food, I daresay. You ate like a bird this morning. Might you ask your cook for a basket to take along in the carriage?”
“No need. I’ll be fine.”
“But you are not fine, my lady.”
She gave him a disapproving look and he rephrased. “Jannie. You are exhausted. The last thing we need is for you to become ill. Come,” he said and led her to the nursery. He took her to the nearest chair. “Sit here,” he ordered.
“Is the mistress ill?” Frannie asked rushing to Jannie’s side.
“No, I’m fine,” she answered. “I only need to hold the babe.”
Frannie handed the babe over to his mother.
“Leave us, please,” Hunter ordered, and Frannie hurried from the room.
Hunter poured some water into a glass and handed it to her. She took a swallow and handed the glass back. When he’d set the glass back on its pewter tray he knelt at her side. “Are you well enough to travel?” he asked. “We can wait until—”
“I’m fine,” she answered. “The sooner we get on the road the sooner we can settle in at Rainwater.”
“Rainwood.”
She looked at him in momentary confusion. “Ah yes. Rainwood.”
He nodded, surprised at her brief lapse.
She nestled the babe in her arms and little George looked up at his mother, then reached for the locket she wore.
“How are you today, George?” she asked, talking to him as if he could understand every word she said. “I’m glad to see you’re awake. We’re going on a trip and you can sleep in the carriage the whole way there. It will make the time pass more quickly.”
Hunter looked at the paleness of her features and experienced a worry he couldn’t ignore. “Excuse my boldness, my lady, but…” Without warning he reached out and placed his hand on her forehead.
She pulled back, but not before he had time to feel her skin. She was warm, but not too much so. Perhaps she was just overly tired. And overly concerned. This had to be difficult for her. Being warned of the danger her child was in and being uprooted from her home had to be a challenge. But when he looked at her, he didn’t see her weakness. He only saw anger.
“How dare you. You had no right,” she said indignantly. “Please, my lord. I’d appreciate it if you would not be so forward ever again.”
“I know you would, Jannie, but I had to know that it was safe for you to travel.”
“And what did you discover?”
“I believe it’s safe for you to travel, but the minute we reach Rainwood you will be confined to your room until you are completely rested.”
Her expression turned defiant and if Hunter was impressed by her strength and determination before, he was doubly so now.
“Is there a reason you accompanied me to the nursery? If so, what was it?”
“Yes, there was a reason. Rainwood Place is not equipped for a baby. I therefore wish to know what furniture we might take with us. I assume we will need the babe’s cradle, and perhaps that rocker,” he said pointing to the chair in the corner.
“Oh. Yes, of course,” she said in a calmer tone.
It seemed to pacify her to know there was a reason for his presence. The frown on her forehead eased.
“But first I would like to get Aunt Mildred’s permission to remove anything from the house.”
“Of course. I’ll send one of the maids to fetch your aunt right away.”
“Thank you,” she said, and Hunter noticed her gaze resting on him. He wondered what that meant, and if he liked it or not. But the question did not need answering. The tripping of his heart was answer enough. Evidently a traitorous part of him like it well enough, indeed.
Hunter nodded, then left the room, telling himself in the most brutal way possible to get a grip.
He forced his mind to deal with the matter at hand. But as was his habit, dealing with a problem meant looking into the future before charting a course of action. And each time he looked, he saw only a lively sweet face set about with lush brunette curls.
How was this dilemma to be resolved? How could it end? He could not hide her away at Rainwood forever. It was inevitable that before long his father would discover that Evan and Jannie had married. And because of that union they had borne a son—the future Marquess of Trentridge. And when he did discover it, Hunter truly didn’t know what his father would do.
There were two options open to the Marquess of Trentridge. He could reject the fact that the next heir to Trentridge Park was the son of a commoner and do everything in his power to get rid of the boy. Or, he could move heaven and earth to take the child away from his mother and raise him as he had raised Hunter. Either would be a living hell for the child, to say nothing of what it would do to the child’s mother.
Hunter knew he could not let either of those possibilities happen.
. . . .
They had been on the road for over an hour and Lia thought someone had beaten her body with a large stick. She ached all over, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Every rut in the road caused her body to groan.
Several miles earlier, she’d had the carriages stop and she put Aunt Mildred in the carriage with Frannie and the baby. If she was ill, she didn’t want Aunt Mildred or the babe to get ill, too. She tried miserably to convince herself she wasn’t ill but simply overly tired.
“Are you alright, Lia?” Miles asked as he rode up beside the carriage.
“I’m fine, Miles. Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“Because you don’t look well.”
“I’m fine. I simply thought perhaps Frannie might need help with the baby and Aunt Mildred volunteered to take the first trek of the journey. I intend to relieve her in an hour or so.”
“Maybe you can get some rest now that you’re alone.”
“I’m fine, Miles. Just fine. You’re as bothersome as Lord Montclaire. He’s convinced that I’m at death’s door, which I’m not. I’m just tired.”
“Very well. Close your eyes and rest for a while.”
“I will,” Lia said, then watched her brother ride away.
A small voice inside her wanted to call her brother back. Her head pounded like a dozen church bells were pealing between her ears. Although she’d been overly hot a few minutes before, now she was shivering with cold. She pulled out a blanket they’d brought for the babe and draped it over her shoulders. She barely had it in place before she became so hot she tossed it aside.
She couldn’t be ill. There was too much to concern herself with. Including keeping an eye on Hunter Montclaire.
Lia closed her eyes and darkness consumed her.
. . . .
Hunter rode past the carriage several times to check on his brother’s widow. He knew she wasn’t well. Why she denied it was another mystifying aspect of her aloof nature.
It had been more than an hour since the carriages had stopped and her aunt had gone to the carriage with the babe and the nursemaid in it. He was glad she’d made that decision. If she was alone, it was more likely that she would not be bothered and could sleep.
The first time he rode close enough to catch a glimpse of her, she sat with her head leaning into the corner of the carriage. Even though it was a warm summer’s day, she’d pulled a blanket up over her and tucked it beneath her chin as if she were cold. The thought that her sickness had developed into chills concerned him even more.
The second time he managed to get close enough to see her, she’d pulled the blanket away from her body and opened her gown at the neck as if she were overly warm. He rode his horse close to the lady’s brother to voice his concerns.
“Halloway,” he called out. “I’m going to go check on your sister. My estate is about an hour away just down this path. Turn to the right as soon as you go over a bridge. That will take you down the lane to the manor house.”
&
nbsp; “Do you want me to see to her?” Halloway asked.
“I’d rather you guarded your aunt and the babe. Is your weapon ready?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Do you anticipate I’ll have to use it?”
“No, but you’re no doubt a better shot than I am, should the need arise.”
Halloway nodded and Hunter made his way back to the carriage. “Halt for a moment,” he ordered the driver.
When the carriage stopped, Hunter tied his horse to the back of the carriage and stepped inside. When he was seated, he pounded on the side of the carriage and the vehicle resumed its journey.
“I hope you don’t mind if I ride with you,” he said, then looked at Lady Atherton. She didn’t move. Neither did she open her eyes as if she’d heard him.
“Bloody hell,” Hunt hissed, then moved to the seat beside her. He placed his hand on her forehead and issued another swear word more violent than the first. She was burning up. Her forehead was streamed with perspiration, yet when he pulled her to him she was trembling like a leaf.
“My lady,” he said, grabbing the blanket that had fallen to the floor and wrapping it around her. “Wake up, my lady,” he said, holding her as close as he could. But she said nothing, stirred not at all, her head lolling awkwardly to the side.
With stunning clarity, Hunter absorbed the urgency of the situation. He knew now why the woman hadn’t called for help. She was quite unconscious.
Hunter wrapped his arms around her and tucked her head beneath his chin. He rubbed her arms and back in an effort to stimulate blood flow, but her body didn’t react to his ministrations. He stuck his hand out the window and pounded on the side of the carriage. “Faster, man. Go as fast as you can.”
When Lady Atherton’s brother realized they had sped up, he rode toward the carriage. “What’s wrong?”
“Your sister has lost consciousness. We need to get to Rainwood Manor as quickly as possible.”
At this speed, the rocking carriage nearly threw the poor woman onto the floor. Hunter caught her up and held her on his lap. “Jannie?” he asked brushing several strands of damp hair from her forehead. “Stay with me. We’re almost home. I’ll get you into a nice soft bed and you’ll be better in no time.”
