by Cheryl Holt
Nathan yanked open the door and peered inside. “We’re here. Come out, and I command you to be a tad more civil on your arrival than you were on your departure.”
“Snake. Dog. Traitor. You’re no nephew of mine. Go away.”
“Sticks and stones, Edwina. Sticks and stones.”
He extended his hand, expecting her to grab hold and climb out, but she wouldn’t grab hold!
He was angry over a lifetime of petty slights and missteps, none of which had been her fault. In the grand scheme of the universe, his difficulties had never amounted to a hill of beans, yet he was acting as if a mountain of boulders had crushed him.
“Come!” he repeated more sternly. “If you’d like, I can drag you out and carry you in, but this is a neighborhood with houses all along the street. Would you like people’s first glimpse of you to be one where you’re gagged, fettered, and hauled about as if you’re a sack of flour? They’ll wonder if a lunatic has moved in. They’ll be gossiping that your kin keep you locked in the attic.”
She glared at him, and he glared back. He’d always been extremely obstinate—just like his father and grandfather. No doubt he would gag her as he’d threatened. He would carry her in fettered so the neighbors would see. He’d enjoy it too.
She smoothed her expression, anxious to appear less combative. “I want to return to Selby.”
“No.”
“I demand it!”
“I’ve clarified the situation over and over, Edwina. You can’t remain there. It’s simply not possible.”
“It’s my home!”
“Unfortunately, you’ve squandered your spot with bad behavior. You’ve been evicted.”
“You’re being deliberately cruel.”
He pondered the charge, then nodded. “Yes, I guess I am.”
“Are you even sorry?”
“I’m not sorry to have you go, but I am sorry that it’s come to this. I’m sorry you were always so awful to me. I’m sorry you hurt my sisters. I’m sorry you constantly made my life so miserable. I wish we could have had a different relationship, but everything with you is so hard.”
“It was all Godwin’s doing!” she fumed as she had on a thousand occasions already. “Every task I undertook, it was on your grandfather’s orders.”
“And what about after he died, Aunt? He’s been deceased for twenty years. What’s your excuse for after he passed away?”
She didn’t reply for, of course, she had no excuse. Nathan had been a horrid boy: impertinent, cheeky, disrespectful. He’d had to be whipped and punished in other ways. She and Godwin could never control him. He’d needed discipline, and he’d deserved the chastisements that were frequently leveled.
“I won’t stay here,” she said. “Please! You must return me to Selby.”
“No, now quit stalling.”
Her trunks were being unloaded. Men were plucking them from the carriage and carrying them over to the front door.
“I should have picked my own home,” she complained. “You didn’t let me.”
“You would have delayed forever, and as I’ve explained, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to remain. I’m willing to supply this lodging, but you’re free to live wherever you like. Be aware though that if you depart, you’ll be on your own, and my assistance will end.”
The last few weeks, she’d sent frantic letters to friends and relatives, begging for help, begging for them to intervene, but no one would dare cross him. The lone place to which she might have gone had been her father’s property, where her older brother ruled the roost. The ass had responded to Nathan, not to her, and had informed him that—under no circumstance—would she be permitted to slink back.
So…Nathan had bought a house for her in town and would provide her with a tiny widow’s stipend. He’d also agreed to pay her servants their wages, but if she declined what he was offering, he would give her nothing.
In the past, her only income had been the small sums she’d pilfered from the estate accounts, and mostly, she’d shifted them to Percy and Trevor. She’d retained little for herself, so she was in dire financial straits.
She wondered if—in some prior century—he might have been a torturer in the Inquisition. He was certainly adept at persecuting her with relish!
“I didn’t hurt your sisters,” she insisted.
“We’re not sure if that’s true or not, are we? I have no idea if they’re still alive, and if they’re not, I’ll always blame you.”
She hadn’t budged, and he grew impatient. He reached in and lifted her out, setting her on the ground. She stared up at the meager dwelling, thinking it was the type of abode for a bank clerk or businessman. It was red brick, two stories high, with black shutters lining the windows.
A blond woman stepped out. She was slender and very beautiful, but obviously in the family way. Was this the housekeeper? Was this to be her personal maid? Edwina wouldn’t have a pregnant female tending her. The notion was shocking.
Nathan took Edwina’s arm and led her over to the woman. Edwina dragged her feet, but couldn’t stop him.
On closer inspection, the woman looked familiar, and she was glowering at Edwina as if Edwina should know her. Two blond girls popped out from behind her, and they gaped at Edwina as if she were a monkey in a zoo.
“Edwina,” Nathan said, “I doubt you remember Pamela, so allow me to introduce you again.”
“Pamela…?” Edwina searched her memory for that name. Then recognition dawned, and she lurched back.
“Pamela…Pomeroy?”
“Actually,” Nathan continued, “she’s Pamela Blake, and she has been for years. She’s your daughter-in-law, and these rascally cherubs”—he gestured to the girls—“are your granddaughters.”
Edwina couldn’t comprehend what was happening. “What…what…are you implying?”
“Despite your vehement opposition,” Nathan said, “Percy married Pamela.”
She gasped. “He wouldn’t have! He listened to me! He split with her. He swore it!”
“Maybe he listened to you in a fantasy world, but he didn’t listen to you in the real world.” Nathan urged her nearer. “Say hello to your daughter-in-law. Don’t be a shrew.”
She ignored the pathetic…actress and spun on Nathan. “Are you expecting me to live with her?”
“Yes. I had the money and the inclination to buy one residence in London, and I meant it to be for you and Percy, but it will be for you and Pamela instead.”
“I refuse.”
He kept on as if she hadn’t objected. “The two of you can share it or not. It’s your choice. As I’ve told you over and over, you may live wherever you like, but if you stay here, it’s Pamela’s home. She will set the rules and manage the servants. You will be a sort of unwelcome guest—but Pamela has kindly consented to have you anyway.” He grinned at the actress. “I believe she’s looking forward to it.”
“You are insane!” Edwina hissed at him.
“Yes, I think I have always been. I can’t deny it. Now then, I need to be going, and you should spend some time getting acquainted.”
He put a palm on her back and tried to ease her over, but she had been turned to stone.
“It was lovely to see you again, Lord Selby,” the actress said to him.
“Nice to see you too, Pamela. If you have any trouble with her, have the butler write to me, and I will come to London to straighten her out.”
“I will.”
“She understands—if she causes any problems—we can throw her out on the road, as she threw my sisters out. In my view, it would be a fitting conclusion.”
He headed to the carriage. The outriders had hopped aboard, and the driver was holding the whip, prepared to guide the team away. Nathan had ridden with them on horseback, and he was checking his saddle.
Edwina was terrified. Never in her wildest dreams had she envisioned such a ghastly ending! He was a fiend! A cruel, hateful brute!
She ran over to him and grabbed his
coat. “Nephew, please! Don’t leave me with them!”
“There’s nowhere else for you to go, Edwina. You told me so yourself.”
“Where is Percy? I demand to talk to Percy!”
“Oh. Didn’t I mention it? Percy has fled the country, forcing me to fuss with you, his wife, and his children. I really don’t feel I should have to, but who else is there to deal with all of you?”
He yanked away from her and gave a jaunty salute to the actress.
“I’ll visit you in a few weeks to hear how matters are progressing.” He directed the comment to the actress, not Edwina.
“We’ll figure it out,” the actress replied, “and I imagine we’ll survive.”
He mounted and trotted away, the Selby coach and servants following him. The actress and the girls waved merrily until he vanished around a corner.
Edwina whirled and shot a glare that was hot enough to melt lead, but the mercenary trollop simply stared back coolly, appearing tough and cunning and completely in control of the situation.
“Why don’t you come in, Edwina?” she said. “I’ll show you to your room.”
“Do not ever call me Edwina. I am Mrs. Blake to you.”
“Well, then, it seems we’re both Mrs. Blake. How about that?”
The cocky wench chuckled maliciously, then went inside. She left the door wide open, so Edwina could traipse after her—or not.
A footman started hauling Edwina’s trunks into the foyer. She gazed down the street, wondering if she could chase after the carriage, if she could catch Nathan and beg him a final time to change his mind, but she never could.
He wouldn’t listen. He never listened.
Suddenly, the older girl spoke to her. “Come in, Grandmother! It’s a fine house. You’ll like it.”
Edwina blanched. “I’m no one’s grandmother, you insolent ninny.”
“You’re mine,” the impertinent tart responded. “Lord Selby said so, and he would never lie.”
The girls skipped off to join their mother, and Edwina stood in the driveway, alone, wishing God would strike her dead.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Nell stood in front of the Robertson Home for Orphaned Children where her friend, Sarah Robertson, had worked and lived. To her great astonishment, the facility was boarded up and seemed to be empty. The sign that had proclaimed the name of the facility had been removed. The door had a chain across it, and a ‘no trespassing’ notice had been posted.
What could have happened?
It had never been the most luxurious building. It was a charity mission after all, opened to house the illicit offspring of the wealthy and notorious. It was operated on the donations that could be scrounged from that rich group.
There had never been extra funds for frivolities like paint or a new roof. The children had been dressed in clothes that Sarah picked from church donation baskets. But her wards had had a safe place to sleep. They’d had food to eat. They’d been taught to read and write.
Nell simply couldn’t imagine it being shut down. She went over and knocked and knocked, but no one answered. Then she pressed her ear to the wood, anxious to detect noise or footsteps, but clearly, it was deserted.
She stared up again, thinking there was a discernible air of neglect, as if it had been unoccupied for years rather than weeks.
The last time Nell had spoken to Sarah had been the day she’d traveled to town with Susan to spy on Percy, which had led to numerous calamities. It was difficult to focus on those terrible events. All of it might have transpired in some ancient period that could barely be recalled in the modern era.
Were Susan and Trevor wed? Were they back at Selby? If they weren’t at the estate, where were they? Was Susan happy? Was Trevor? What about Percy and Edwina? How had the family muddled through the debacle?
She didn’t ponder Lord Selby, for the slightest rumination would have her mind flitting to his fiancée, and she would suffer such waves of envy and jealousy that she couldn’t bear it.
He was truly engaged. She hadn’t wanted to believe Florence, so she’d snuck to a lending library and had dug out the old newspaper that contained the announcement. It had been plainly printed for all to see, so it was futile to dwell on the past. She couldn’t fix it or change it. She could just stagger forward and continue to heal.
She studied the busy street, wondering—if she questioned the neighbors—would they know what had occurred? Could they tell her where Sarah had gone? And what about the children? There had been about a dozen of them residing with Sarah. Where were they?
She and Sarah weren’t exactly close—not like Nell and Susan—but Nell had no other friends, and because of Sarah’s line of employment, she had a pragmatic view of the world. Nell had intended to reveal her predicament and seek her advice. So far, Florence had been Nell’s sole confidante, and she couldn’t argue that Florence had her best interests at heart.
Sarah would have listened and offered suggestions. She wouldn’t have judged or condemned Nell, and—Nell was convinced—she would have insisted Nell was proceeding in the only appropriate manner. Nell needed to hear it from a person she trusted.
The orphanage wasn’t located in the most prosperous part of town, and the surrounding businesses were a tad seedy. It wasn’t an area Nell would have visited later in the day, but it was mid-morning, so she felt perfectly safe.
The nearest establishment appeared to be a tavern. Dare she saunter in and ask about Sarah? She didn’t think she should. She’d come in a cab, and she’d had the driver wait for her. He was parked down the block. If she explained the problem to him, might he inquire for her?
As she spun away to walk over and talk to him about it, a man approached on a horse. He dismounted, and she glanced up, their gazes locking. She was so astounded she had to blink and blink to be sure she wasn’t hallucinating.
Nathan Blake?
“Nell!”
He smiled warmly and reached for her as if he might clasp her hands—or perhaps even hug her. To prevent any reckless contact, she hurriedly stepped back. He scowled, but didn’t comment.
On her observing him—in such a strange spot—she was so bewildered she couldn’t focus, couldn’t find her balance. She was completely stunned by the encounter, but she forced herself to ask, “What are you doing in London?”
“I’ve been searching for my sisters. I told you about them, remember?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“One of them was brought here. I was hoping to speak with the proprietor about her.” He assessed the building, the chain on the door. “It looks abandoned.”
“It is.” She gestured to it. “My acquaintance owned and ran it. My charity friend? I stopped by to see her, but I found it like this.”
“You had no idea?”
“No. I thought everything was fine. They never had enough funding, but they’d been all right. I’m very concerned about her.”
“Shall we pester the nearby merchants? Someone might have information.”
The notion of strolling down the street with him was so tantalizing that her pulse raced. What was wrong with her? She blamed it on her delicate condition. Anymore, she was so accursedly emotional.
“I can’t tarry,” she lied. “I have to get home.”
He smiled another delicious smile, as if he was delighted to have crossed paths with her, and she steeled herself against it. He had such a potent effect on her. She’d never been able to keep him at bay.
With every fiber of her being, she could feel herself leaning toward him, wanting to rest a palm on his chest, to chat about intimate subjects, or even to raise on tiptoe and kiss him on the mouth. He simply had an impact on her that she couldn’t deflect, and she had to buck up lest she encourage herself to linger.
“How have you been?” he asked as if he’d truly like to know.
“I’m well. What’s happening at Selby?” She was eager to shift attention away from herself. “Have you heard from Susan and Trevor? We haven’t had
any news about them, or if we have, I haven’t been told what it was.”
“They tied the knot in Scotland, and they’re back now. They’re managing the estate for me. Trevor is supervising the property and Susan is in charge of the manor.”
“She’d be good at that, and I’m glad it’s resolved so neatly,” she said. “Are they happy?”
He laughed. “They’re disgustingly happy. I can’t stand to be around them.”
“How is everyone else? I can’t imagine your aunt or Percy were very welcoming to the newlyweds.”
“I couldn’t bear to discover what sort of explosion might occur, so I bought a house for them in town, but you’ll never guess what I learned.”
“What?”
“I hadn’t seen Percy in weeks, so I went to his London apartment. He wasn’t there, so I spoke to his mistress—don’t faint please—and she is actually his wife!”
Nell cocked her head. “His wife? What? I can’t figure out what you’re telling me.”
“He wed that woman years ago. The entire time he was courting Susan, he was married!”
“But…but…he betrothed himself to Susan! He wanted the match. He was excited about it.”
“Yes. He was so desperate to receive her dowry that he was fully prepared to commit bigamy. He needed the money to help support his real family.”
“I’m speechless,” she said.
“You look as shocked as I was. And get this: At his not obtaining Susan’s fortune, his fiscal pressures became so great that he fled the country.”
“He abandoned his wife and daughters?”
“Yes, and she has a third child on the way.”
“My goodness,” she murmured.
He grinned a wicked grin. “With Percy acting so badly toward them, I felt I had an obligation to assist them, and I moved her and her girls into the house I’d purchased.”
“That was kind of you.”
“Then I moved Edwina there to live with them.”
