by Gill, Tamara
Arthur slumped into a nearby wingback chair, wrecked over what had just come to pass. He did not care that his grandmother was voicing her concerns, she could’ve gone on for months and she would not have swayed him from his choice of Hallie.
He shook his head. The thought that she was a mother unimaginable. She had never once slipped and mentioned her son or the man that she’d loved enough to bear him a child.
His hands fisted at his sides. The urge to punch something, anything, riding him hard. He hated the bastard, whoever it was who loved her. If the fellow loved her so very much why did he not marry her, bring her home and look after her and their child? Had he abandoned them in Egypt?
He groaned, having not thought to ask her why he was not with him.
“Are you listening to me, Duncannon?”
His head snapped up to look at his grandmother, her face a mask of disapproval. “What were you saying?”
“You’re to leave and return to Cadding Hall tonight. Baron Bankes is as we speak going to set out to remove Miss Evans from his home. After I explained to him that for a baron to be around such a woman would not do his reputation in London any good, he saw the sense in this advice and will act accordingly.”
Anger rode hard on Arthur’s pride and still, the thought that Hallie would be kicked out as if her time here was worth nothing at all made him seethe. To be removed in disgrace simply because she had chosen a different way of life to those under this roof.
He stood. “I’m going to my room to pack.” With nothing left to say to his grandmother or anyone for that matter, Arthur strode back to his room, ignoring the few who congregated about the drawing room door, no doubt listening in on his conversation.
A woman stepped in front of him and he reached out, grabbing her shoulders lest he tumble them both to the ground. He looked down into the steely-green eyes of Miss Willow Perry.
“How could you act such a coward toward Hallie? From what I can gather here today, you now know of her past and disapprove her choice.”
His lip curled. He was not in the mood for a lecture. “There would be few who would not disapprove. Am I wrong?” he asked, glaring down at her since she continued to glare up at him. She sniffed her displeasure.
“Let me ask you this, my lord. How many women have you slept with in your life? I should imagine it would be many and yet women are not afforded the same freedom. Well,” she said, jabbing him in the chest with her finger. “Hallie, Ava, me, hell, all our friends are not going to conform to a man’s rule, even if this is a man’s world. And if you’re not man enough to accept and love Hallie for all that she is, then you do not deserve her.”
“I guess I do not.” The words rose up his throat and threatened to choke him. Still he could not accept what Hallie had done. What Willow said was true, he’d slept with a lot of women since first sampling a lovely lady’s maid in his mother’s employ before she passed. The idea, however, of his wife having been free with her body, her heart, left a sour taste in his mouth and he couldn’t stand the thought of Hallie being with someone else.
To have had his child…
Yes, he’d slept with her, but he was going to marry her. If only he had been the only man to have ever entered her bed.
“Do not ever try and see her again, my lord. I’ll not allow you to hurt her again.”
“Is she back from the dig site?” Was Hallie back in the house already? If so, the baron was quick in having her services ended. The idea hollowed him out inside. Damn it!
“She is packing. The baron told her not half an hour ago that she was to leave due to everything your grandmother shouted out to half the ton.”
“In my defense I did not know my grandmother was arriving today.” His only relative wasn’t even expected at the baron’s home, so for her to be here, word of his attachment to Hallie had to have reached her side in London…
He clenched his jaw, thinking of only one person who would wish to cause her harm.
“Your excuses are not relevant. Leave her alone, marry a young, rich, pure debutante that has her maidenhead intact. One that your family are so famous for aligning themselves with and leave my friend alone. She deserves happiness and you and your toxic grandmother will only bring her pain.”
Arthur stood silent, very little words coming to mind to retaliate against Miss Perry. How could he when everything she said was true?
He bowed. “I intended to, Miss Perry. There is no need to lecture me.”
She scoffed, walking back up the passage toward Hallie’s room. “Remember what I said or you’ll not just face me, but Ava and our friends. And I can promise you, my lord,” she said, his title full of sarcasm. “You think your grandmother is a tyrant, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
Chapter 17
A knock on the door sounded and Willow, who had been helping her pack, unlocked it and wrenched it open. Hallie couldn’t help but look to see who was there, a little part of her hoping it was Lord Duncannon who had come to apologize and beg forgiveness.
Not that she would ever forgive him for his treatment or yet worse, judgement of her. Who was he to look down his nose at her simply because she had followed her heart? She doubted very much that he could say the same. There was little doubt that he had slept with many women, none of whom he was in love with, so who was worse? Certainly, it was not her.
Her maid over the past couple of weeks stood at the door, a missive in her hands. “Miss Evans, an express came for you this evening. I’m sorry it took me so long to bring it to you. I did not know you were back from the dig site.” The young maid’s eyes darted about the room, seeing her clothes and trunks out. “Are you leaving, miss? Do you need help?”
Her stomach pitched at the sight of the missive and she all but forgot her troubles with the baron, Arthur, even her maid’s question. Hallie took the missive and broke the seal, scanning the letter. Words of illness, return home, post-haste jumped out from the text and she stood motionless a moment, her mind a whirr of plans.
She started when Willow closed the door, speaking softly to the maid about a carriage and two footmen to help before coming over to her. “What is it, Hallie?”
“I must go at once. My cousin is ill.”
“The one who looks after Ammon?” Willow strode back to the trunks and started packing them less carefully than she was before. “I’ve ordered you a carriage and a couple of footmen will be here soon to help carry the luggage down. We’ll have you on the road to Berkshire before the hour is up.”
“I do not think the baron will allow me to have the carriage all the way to Berkshire. I’ll have to take the stagecoach from the nearest town.”
“Leave that with me. I’ll make sure you’re safely delivered to Berkshire by tomorrow. I may only be a niece to a viscountess, but that doesn’t make me entirely without merit. After what has happened to you today, you will not be dumped at the local inn to find your own way home. I’ll not have it.”
Hallie pulled her friend into a hug, so very thankful that she still had her true friends and that they would support her, no matter what. She should have trusted in that friendship when she found herself with child. No longer would she hide in the shadows, scared of what people would think of her or her choices. She would pretend to be the widow of Omar El Sayed, the mother of his child and everyone could go to the devil if they did not like that.
“Thank you, Willow. You are the best of friends.”
“I am, and will always support you.” They smiled at each other a moment before Willow patted her shoulder. “Come, more packing.” She turned to a nearby trunk, throwing some of Hallie’s boots into it. “Does the missive say very much about your cousin? How severe it is?”
“A severe fever and she’s very ill. They’re unsure if it’s contagious. I hope Ammon does not get it. I would hate anything to happen to him. He’s only a child.”
“All will be well, my dear. I’m sure her friends have a doctor attending her.”
Hallie t
ried to take comfort in her friend’s words, but the mention of a fever that seemed to be affecting her cousin’s mind made her fear the worst. What if she passed away? Whatever would she do then? She had not saved enough to keep her and Ammon secure in Felday. She had her friends, of course, to turn to, but they could not support her forever. After the atrocious way her truth came out here at the baron’s estate, it was highly unlikely she’d ever gain such employment such as this again, or even work in a great house as a maid.
Her name was, or would very soon be, mud.
Hallie rubbed a hand over her brow, her hand coming away a little damp from perspiration. At least the baron had paid her in full for the work that she had done, and with no sign of Mr. Stewart she had not had to hand any over to him. Not that she had to worry about his blackmailing self any longer. Not now that everyone knew the truth.
The next hour was a blur of her trunks, missives to Greg and Bruce in the stable of her thanks to them, and where to forward her tools and paperwork, sketches and equipment that she had left up at the dig site. She had asked the footmen to take her things downstairs using the servants’ staircase and to have her depart from the stables. She did not wish to see anyone from the house party, or the baron who had caved like a rock under pressure when Lord Duncannon’s grandmother demanded he shun and fire her.
Hallie did one last turn about the room, ensuring she’d not left anything behind. She turned and picked up her pelisse and woollen cap that she preferred to wear. Willow watched her, her eyes a window of disappointment and Hallie took her hands, squeezing them. “None of that. I will do as you say and keep my thoughts positive regarding my cousin. I’m sure she will be well, and she’ll get better even quicker when I’m there.”
“I will miss you. We’ll be leaving next week back to London, so please write me and tell me how your cousin fares and of course, yourself.”
“I will. I promise.” Hallie started for the servants’ stairs, her steps slowing as she caught sight of Lord Duncannon waiting for her in the passageway.
“You’re leaving.”
It wasn’t a question and she nodded, anger spiking through her blood at the sight of him again. What did he think he was going to achieve seeing her again? He’d made his opinions clear enough up at the dig site. She certainly did not need them to be repeated.
“I am. If you’ll excuse me,” she said, pushing past him and starting down the stairs.
“Hallie,” he called after her. “If things were different...”
Hallie adjusted the small valise in her hand, ignoring him. She swallowed the lump in her throat that his words placed there. No more tears, no more heartache. She would return home, get her cousin healthy again and then return to Felday. Forget the Viscount Duncannon and bury everything he made her feel and want.
There was only one man in her life from this point onward. Her son. The rest could go to the devil. Sooner rather than later.
Chapter 18
Hallie reached Berkshire and her cousin’s home the following afternoon. Thankfully Willow was true to her word and Baron Bankes’s driver had taken her right to her cousin’s door and helped unload all her trunks into the house.
The one, female servant her cousin could afford helped get her things inside. “How is Charlotte, Betty? Where is Ammon?” she asked, untying her bonnet and placing it on a nearby sideboard. Her cousin’s home was larger than her cottage at Felday. Her only relative had married a gentleman farmer and after his death on the farm, had been left with the income from the land and the house. With no children of her own, she had been happy to help Hallie when she returned home, pregnant and with no support. Hallie owed her so much. In truth she would never be able to repay her kindness.
“She’s upstairs, Miss Evans. Ammon is sitting with her. He wanted to tell her everything that happened at school today.”
Of course, it was a Wednesday and Ammon would have attended the local parish school. He was only four, and yet he was bright for his age. “That is good that she’s up and talking. I had thought it was much worse than that.”
“Oh, no, Miss Evans. It is merely a trifling cold.” The maid glanced over her many trunks. “Are you staying for some time, Miss Evans? I will have the guest bedroom set up if you are. I do apologize, but we weren’t expecting you.”
Hallie frowned. They weren’t? “Please, if you will. I’ll be here for several days.” Hallie started up the stairs. How could they have not expected her when they had written the missive?
She knocked on the wooden bedroom door and heard Ammon, his little excited voice telling of a story about a tree and his friend who had attempted to climb to the top. “May I come in?”
“Mama!” Ammon jumped from his chair and ran toward Hallie. She kneeled down, taking him into her arms and hugging him fiercely. His little hands clutched about her throat, and tears sprung into her eyes at having him near her again. No longer would she leave him behind. It wasn’t fair on either of them. Somehow she would find work and be able to keep him close.
“Oh, I’ve missed you, my darling,” she said, pulling back and taking in his sweet face. Eyes, the same as Omar’s, stared back at her and made her miss him all the more. Miss what could have been. “You’ve grown. You’ll be a young man all too soon.”
Ammon stepped out of her hold, standing taller at her words. “Auntie thought so too. Miss Smith had to let down my pants. My ankles were showing.”
Hallie chuckled, picking him up and going to sit on the bed, placing her son on her lap. Not wanting him too far away from her. She turned her attention to her cousin. “How are you, Charlotte? I received a letter saying you were very ill. Is this true?”
Charlotte shook her head, a confused mien on her face. “We never wrote to you at all, except a fortnight past about Ammon and what we’ve been up to. I have a cold, but not severe enough that you should return home.”
“How odd.” The pit of Hallie’s stomach churned as she tried to figure out who may have sent the letter. “If you didn’t send it, I wonder then who did.”
“Ammon, why don’t you go down to Miss Smith. I’m fairly certain she told me at lunch that she made a sweet treat for you today.”
Ammon looked over his shoulder to Hallie. “May I, Mama?”
She leaned down, kissing his cheek. “Of course, my darling. I will join you downstairs soon.”
He ran off, the sound of his small footsteps on the stairs making Hallie smile. “Sending Ammon downstairs, I assume there is something you wish to tell me, Charlotte?”
Her cousin’s mouth thinned into a displeased line. “There have been some people in town, staying at the inn. They’re Egyptian and I’ve seen them watching Ammon when I pick him up from the parish school. It’s too coincidental. I think they know who he is.”
A chill ran down her spine and the urge to run downstairs, pick up her son and keep him safe and in her vision at all times thrummed through her veins. “Does Miss Smith know to keep an eye on him?”
“Of course. She was the one who actually mentioned it to me first.” Charlotte frowned. “Do you think they’re here to take him away?”
“I’ll not let them go anywhere with my son, but I also refuse to live in fear. I shall go to the inn today and see what their presence is about. I’ll not have our family feel threatened, not by anyone.”
“Good, very good,” her cousin said, reaching out and clasping her hand. “I’ve grown so fond of the boy, I’d hate for anyone to take him away from us. Even if they are his father’s family.” Hallie nodded, trying to hide the fear that thrummed through her veins. If Omar’s family was here, it meant only one thing. They knew he’d had a child and wanted him in Egypt.
Arthur sat in the carriage, almost back in London, the houses on the outskirts of the city passing him by. He took little notice, his mind a whirr of thoughts, of regrets mostly on how he’d handled the situation with Hallie.
He’d let her down, turned his back on her when he should have stood behind her,
a pillar of strength and support. He ought to be horsewhipped for judging her. Why was it all very well for men like him to bed whomever they pleased and whenever they wished? Hallie had not done such things, but instead had given her heart to a man in Egypt and had mothered a child.
He cringed, laying his head back against the squabs. No matter how much she hated him right at this moment, she could not hate him as much as he hated himself. He’d not just let her down, he’d let himself down too. The Lord Duncannon was not a gentleman who judged, not anyone. Life was for living, for loving and enjoying. From the moment he first met Hallie, her desire for life, to live and see the world told him of a soul that would not be tamed, and he did not wish her to be. He’d known that about her, it was one of the reasons he loved her, and yet, he’d thrown that back in her face, told her in a roundabout way that her life was scandalous and beneath his. That she would not make a proper wife.
“Fuck it,” he said aloud.
His grandmother’s eyes grew uncommonly wide, her face turning a ruddy red. “Arthur, I beg your pardon. Do not blaspheme in front of me. Not now or ever.”
“Why not?” he asked, staring at her. He shouldn’t blame his grandmother, she was a product of her time, a woman who had an opinion on everyone, no matter if it were wrong or right. “I’ve fucked it right up and will never be able to repair the damage I’ve done.”
She sniffed, rolling her eyes and stared out the window as if the king himself was outside and keeping her attention. “I suppose you’re talking of Miss Evans. The trollop.”
“She’s not a trollop. I’ll not have you talk about her like that.”
“I shall talk about her in any way I please. Unlike you, I did a little investigating on her before coming to fetch you from Somerset. Did you know that her child is the sole heir to the late Omar El Sayed family in Egypt? I had a very interesting letter from a gentleman who had taken an interest in Miss Evan’s life. Another jaded lover no doubt, but he did impart some very interesting information. One tidbit that he’d written to her lover’s family in Egypt telling them of the child. They are en route to collect the boy, or so I was informed last week.”
