by Laura Landon
Hunter prayed he was right. He prayed that she would be better in no time. But she was burning with fever. And each mile felt like ten.
“We’re almost there, my lady. We just turned into the drive. A short jaunt up the lane and we can get you to bed.”
Hunter was never so thankful as when the carriage pulled up in front of Rainwood Manor. He stepped from the carriage with her in his arms and raced through the door his butler held open for him.
“Send for a doctor, Mason, and send up some cool water and cloths.”
“Very well, my lord. Right away,”
Hunter carried her to the first guest room he came to and laid her on the bed. He’d be glad when her aunt caught up with them. They needed to get her out of her clothes and dressed in a nightgown. He didn’t dare undress her by himself, even though it had felt to him that her bodice was soaked through.
At that moment the viscountess bustled into the room with a worried frown on her face.
“Oh, dear heaven, Lia! What is wrong with her, Lord Montclaire?”
“Lady Atherton is ill. I’ve sent for the doctor but it will take time for him to arrive. I’ll leave you and your maid to look after her.”
“Of course. Of course. We will manage.”
“Good. I’m going to make arrangements for your trunks to be brought up. Then I’ll send a tea tray for you, and inform Miles of what has transpired.”
“Very well, my lord.”
Two maids rushed in to help, leaving Hunter free to step out of the room. He made sure the babe was settled and rooms prepared for Lady Atherton’s aunt and her brother. He met Miles in the foyer and invited him to join him in his study.
The first thing he did was pour two glasses of brandy and hand one to Miles.
He took a healthy sip, then turned to face Miles Halloway. He couldn’t hide the anger that welled inside of him.
“Who the bloody hell is Lia?”
Chapter 8
The look of surprise on Miles Halloway’s face told Hunter he’d stumbled onto something monumental.
“What did you say?”
Hunter took a threatening step closer to Halloway. “I asked you who Lia is and why your aunt called Lady Atherton ‘Lia’.”
Miles Halloway finished his brandy in one swallow, then rose and walked to the other side of the room.
“No lies, Halloway! Why would your aunt call Lady Atherton ‘Lia’?”
Miles braced his hands against the window frame and lowered his head between his outstretched arms. “I shouldn’t answer you. It’s not my place to tell you. It’s…Lia’s.”
“I presume Lia is the woman who is lying unconscious upstairs?”
“Yes.”
“Since she is unable to speak, Halloway, the responsibility falls upon you.”
Miles Halloway turned away from the window, then reached for his glass and filled it again before returning to his chair. “I told Lia she wouldn’t get away with her lie for long, but she said she couldn’t risk you finding out until she was sure of your intentions.”
“What is it she couldn’t risk me finding out?”
“I have two sisters: Amelia, who is upstairs, and Janice. My sister Jannie was married to your brother. She died shortly after giving birth to young George, so Lia has pretended to be the child’s mother.”
“Why?”
“Why? Good god, man. Because she was afraid you would take George away from her. She thought if you knew that she wasn’t George’s mother her chances of keeping the babe would be nil.”
“She thought I would take the babe away from her?” Hunter asked, unable to believe she trusted him so little.
“You or your father. She didn’t think there was a chance that she could keep the babe when your father discovered there was a Trentridge heir.”
Hunter tried to digest the information that was thrown at him, but before he and Miles could discuss matters further, the doctor came from seeing Lia.
“How is she?” Hunter asked rising to his feet.
The doctor shook his head and Hunter’s heart clenched in his chest. “What is it? What’s wrong with her?”
“An inflammation of the lungs, it seems, though not tuberculosis. That coupled with exhaustion has laid the good lady quite low, I’m afraid.”
His assessment made all kinds of sense to Hunter. She’d spent days caring for her sister, then managed the travails of her death. She’d cared for the newborn babe, and had gone night after night with little or no sleep. Plus, the worry of losing the babe. No wonder she was ill.
“With rest and the proper care, she’ll be good as new.”
“Thank you,” Hunter said handing the doctor a few coins. When the doctor was gone, Hunter turned to Miles who stood silently beside him. He put a compassionate hand on the worried fellow’s shoulder.
“I need to see her,” Lia’s brother said.
“Go on up. I’ll check in on her later.”
Hunter watched as Miles left the room. He felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from him. He’d never been so concerned in his life. He recalled the sight of her slumped over in the coach and his heart skipped a beat. Try as he might he could not erase her paleness from his memory.
He rose with his glass in his hand and walked to the multi-paned doors that opened onto the terrace. It was frustrating to think she’d felt compelled to go to such lengths to play the impostor, just to keep his nephew safe. Carrying out her preposterous plan had taken a bitter toll on her health. Hadn’t she known that eventually she’d be found out?
He took a sip of the amber liquid in his glass. In the days of their brief acquaintance, Hunter had come to know Lady Atherton’s nature reasonably well. Her commitment to the babe and the courage she’d shown in facing the challenges of keeping him safe had impressed Hunter greatly. But now that her plan was fully exposed, he had to wonder. Was she truly on board with his effort to hide the babe at Rainwood? Or was she merely biding her time until she found an opportunity to disappear once again?
The very thought stole the breath from him as Hunter realized he must not let her out of his sight. Or he’d lose her.
. . . .
Lia woke two days later with a throbbing head and a body that ached all over. Her aunt told her she’d lost consciousness and had slept forty-eight hours without waking. By the time she was able to open her eyes, the sun was well up in the sky and Lia had lost all track of time.
She lay still, taking in the strange room. It was prettily appointed with chintz fabrics on the window seat pillows that livened up the robin’s egg blue wallpaper. The furnishings were cleverly arranged and the bed, oh, the bed was so comfortable she thought she might never leave it.
Her maid brought in a tray, then dressed her hair and helped her into her robe. She felt much better when Frannie brought little George in to see her.
“Oh, George,” she said taking the babe into her arms. “How I’ve missed you.”
“I think he missed you, too, mistress. He was wakeful half the night.”
“Did you miss me, my sweet?”
Lia had been fussing over the babe for a short while when Frannie interrupted.
“Would you mind if I saw to my needs, my lady? I won’t be long.”
“Of course, Frannie. Take as long as you like. George and I will be fine here.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
Frannie left the room and Lia almost didn’t notice that the door hadn’t closed behind her and that Hunter Montclaire stood in the open doorway watching her.
“My lord,” she said when she looked up and her eyes locked with his.
Her heart raced and she fought with its wish to leap from her chest. The man had startled her. Or rather, the devastatingly handsome man had startled her. She’d never known anyone who could cause her cheeks to warm the way he did. There was something so intriguing about the chiseled cut of his cheekbones and jaw that she had a hard time looking away from him. Or, perhaps it was the dark, captivating look in
his eyes that mesmerized her.
“How are you feeling, Miss Lia?”
The pain of discovery shot through her skull and worked its way down her spine. He knew! How? When?
His gaze grew more intense. He took a threatening step into the room and stood in front of her. It was obvious that he wasn’t about to avoid confronting her with the fact that she’d tried to deceive him.
“How long did you think you could get away with pretending to be your sister?”
“How did you find out?”
“That hardly matters. The point is, I know.”
He knows.
The very words should have sent her screaming from the room, but oddly, they brought an unexpected breath of relief. Of safety.
“What are you going to do now that you know?”
He stepped further into the room and sat in the chair beside the bed. “I don’t see that the fact that you are George’s aunt instead of his mother changes anything. At least as far as I’m concerned. The courts or my father finding out would be another matter altogether.”
“Yes,” Lia said on a sigh. “I’m sorry I tried to deceive you, but…” Her voice trailed off. Partly because she didn’t know what to say in defense of her actions, but partly because his dark, threatening gaze stayed focused on where she sat and refused to move.
He looked at little George playing in her lap. Then, without asking, he reached out and took the babe into his arms.
“Hello, George,” he said, placing the babe in his lap. “Have you adjusted to your new home?”
The babe gurgled and cooed, then reached out to grab the ends of his uncle’s perfectly tied cravat. Hunter didn’t stop him.
“And you, Miss Halloway. Are you improving?”
Lia didn’t answer him. She didn’t know what answer to give. But she was saved from having to answer him at that moment when Frannie entered the room.
“Frannie, would you please take George back to the nursery?”
“Of course, my lady.”
The nursemaid took the babe and left the room, leaving Lia alone with Hunter.
“I owe you an apology, Lord Mont—”
“Hunt. Call me Hunt.”
Lia lowered her gaze to the cravat George had untied. “Hunt. Yes. I owe you an apology.”
“Your brother explained in part your reasoning. I can’t deny that I might have made the same decision had I been in your position. I can’t imagine what it was like to be weighted down with the responsibilities that were forced upon you.”
“I wish I’d have had the strength to carry the weight the world placed on my shoulders, but I did not. I never thought I would have to watch my sister die in front of me. Nor did I believe I would ever know what it felt like to be truly alone. But that is how I felt when Jannie died. More alone than I had ever been.”
“I know it’s not the same,” he said taking her hand, “but that’s how I felt when Evan died. As if I had just lost my best friend, for in truth, that’s what he was. No one knew me or understood me like Evan did. He was the only person in the world who knew what it was like having to live with my father. He was the only person who understood what it felt like to be rejected by the one person a child should never be rejected by.”
“I understand,” Lia whispered. “Jannie told me about your father. Your brother had explained what your father was like. She told me how mean and cruel he was and how unaccepting he was of anyone he considered beneath him.”
“And that was most of the world,” Hunter added. “Did your sister tell you the details of their meeting with my father?”
“Yes. She said it was horrible. Your father called her everything from an interloper to a whore who had no love for your brother but only wanted his title and his wealth.”
“I know that wasn’t the truth. I know she truly loved my brother and he loved her. I know that they would have done everything possible for each other.”
“You’re right,” Lia answered, then tightened her grasp on his hand.
“What’s wrong?” There was a frown on his forehead as if he realized something was not right.
“Nothing,” she lied. “I just felt a little dizzy.”
“Here, lie down.”
He settled her in the bed and brought the covers up around her.
“You’re not well enough to overdo. You need to sleep.”
Lia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She hated that she was ill. If there was ever a time when she needed to be strong, this was it.
“Would you like me to send for your aunt?”
“What time is it?”
“It’s midmorning.”
“Then, no. She’ll be out walking. Don’t bother her.”
“Then I will sit with you until you feel drowsy.”
“That’s not necessary, Lord— Hunt.”
He ignored her dismissal and stayed right where he was, just smiling like a Cheshire cat.
“As you wish,” he whispered, though he didn’t move an inch.
Lia focused her gaze on Hunter Montclaire’s handsome face. There was a note of compassion in his eyes that tugged at her heart. “Thank you,” she said softly, then closed her eyes, feeling safer than she had in months.
She didn’t go to sleep immediately. How could she, with the blood still singing in her veins.
. . . .
Hunter stayed at her side most of the day and night. He watched her sleep and held her hand when she became restless. Each time she roused he became more and more aware that some awareness deep within him had been freed, something that allowed him to appreciate her like he’d not appreciated other women in the past. He was happy to wait while she slept, knowing that when she woke she’d think of some new and engaging bit of conversation. She was so widely read, so fascinated with things he’d not expected, that her commentaries never ceased to delight him. He’d always enjoyed witty banter in the gentleman’s rooms at Whites, or in the bidding booths at Tattersall’s. He considered himself well versed and with a natural wit, when he chose to expose it. But this woman had him beat in spades. And he loved it.
Shortly after the sun rose, he found himself roused from drowsing as her aunt entered the room.
“How is she?” the dowager viscountess asked.
“Much better. She was wakeful from time to time through the night.”
“Thank you for taking such good care of her.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“May I discuss something with you?” the dowager viscountess asked, beckoning him to join her in the hall.
“Of course.” Hunter stepped from the room and led Lia’s aunt to a pair of chairs arranged on each side of a painted Bohemian chest. As he passed the mirror that hung above it, he swept his unkempt hair from his forehead. She must think him a veritable country bumpkin.
The venerable lady wasted no time getting straight to the point.
“It has been obvious to me that you have feelings for my niece.”
He opened his mouth as if to object, but she raised a regal hand to silence him.
“And now Miles tells me you are aware that she is in truth my elder niece, Amelia.”
“Yes, I am aware.”
“What resolution do you seek with regard to your feelings for her?”
“I’m not sure I understand you, my lady.”
“Then let me be absolutely clear, Lord Montclaire.” The dowager Viscountess Collinson leveled him a look that left no doubt of her seriousness. “I lost one niece to your family. And the result of that tragedy was terribly hard on Lia. For a while, I was afraid I might lose both of them. And perhaps I would have, had it not been for the babe Jannie left behind. But Lia stepped up when she had to and took over the care of your brother’s heir.”
“What is your point, my lady? What is it you wish to know?”
“I want to know what your intentions are where Lia is concerned. If you intend to use her, then cast her to the wind, I will fight you every step of the way. But, if you
intend to be a helpmate to her and assist her in her efforts to protect the babe and secure the future of both Lia and the child, then I will stand at your side and help you in any way possible.”
“I assure you, my lady, my intentions are both principled and honorable.”
“Very well,” she answered. “But be warned. It shall go badly for anyone who causes her harm or distress.”
“Then I have no cause to fear you, my lady. I have no intention of hurting her.” Hunter rose. “Now, if you will excuse me, I will meet your nephew for breakfast to discuss what needs to be done should my father’s threat become imminent.”
Hunter excused himself, then left Lady Collinson.
A smile crossed his face as he descended the stairs. The dowager Viscountess Collinson was as formidable a threat as his father. He was thankful she was on his side instead of working against him.
Chapter 9
Lia had been desperate for a change of scenery after several days in bed, and when the doctor gave permission for her to spend several hours in the solarium, she was thrilled. Restricted to reclining on the chaise as she was, her favorite distraction was the few hours Frannie brought little George to see her each day. She played with him and talked to him to give Frannie a break, yet the maid didn’t seem to mind being with George all day long. She seemed as attached to him as Lia was.
Lia had held the babe until he fell asleep and was about to call Frannie to put him in his cradle when footsteps sounded on the cool tile. Lia looked up as Hunter Montclaire neared the chaise.
With each step he seemed to survey her wellbeing and judge it acceptable, which made her oddly happy. She took delight in the hint of a smile that tipped the corner of his mouth. His handsome good looks had not ceased to affect her, and today there was such an ease about his gait and posture that he quite took her breath away. She’d never met such a fine specimen of male perfection. Rarely had she even seen a fellow so perfectly formed, with such broad muscular shoulders and thighs. Rarely had her eyes had the opportunity to linger on a face so strong and perfectly chiseled. Even though she tried not to let him affect her, just looking at him stole her breath.
