A Rival Heir (4 page)

“We named him after my papa, you know,” Emily Holmsly explained as she settled herself on the Egyptian sofa with the baby in her lap. “We might have named him after Hugh, but feared there would be some confusion eventually. My husband has no opinion of handing down his own name to his son. There is much too great a confusion in that.”

“Oh, indeed,” Nell agreed, taking a seat not far from their guest.

Aunt Longstreet eyed the child with disfavor. “He seems a great deal too young to be jauntering about the city. He’s bound to catch cold.”

“On such a beautiful day?” Nell protested. “And bundled up as he is? Oh, I shouldn’t think so.”

“But then what knowledge have you of children?” her aunt demanded.

“None whatsoever,” Nell admitted, unintimidated, “but he looks quite a hearty soul.”

“Oh, he is!” Emily assured them. “It is not my intention to allow him to be mollycoddled, either. Taking him out into the fresh air, and letting him see the world outside of his nursery, are great objects with me. I have had a few disagreements with the nursery maid, mind you, but that is because she is not a progressive sort of girl. Still, she has a great deal of experience for one her age, as she was with my husband’s older sister for five years.”

“How comforting,” Nell murmured, since her aunt looked about to say something critical. “Ah, here’s our tea. I’ll pour, Woodbridge.”

“I should certainly hope so,” Aunt Longstreet grumbled. When she was handed her cup of tea, just the way she liked it with a healthy dollop of milk and three lumps of sugar, she sat back in her chair with a sigh. Nell thought perhaps she looked a little peaked after the long excursion and took it upon herself to entertain their guest until the tea should a little revive her aunt.

Since Emily Holmsly was a frequent visitor to Bath, she had a great number of suggestions for the amusement of Miss Longstreet and her companion. Miss Longstreet paid not the least heed to her chatter. She sipped her tea noisily and thrust the cup out for a second helping when it was empty. Then, without the slightest warning, she fell asleep. Nell only just rescued her aunt’s cup in time to keep it from falling, having been distracted by the baby’s excited gurgling. She wrapped a shawl about her aunt’s knees and motioned to Emily to follow her into the next room, closing the door behind them.

“She was quite exhausted from our walk,” Nell explained. “I offered to procure a sedan chair for her, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Never mind. She’ll sleep there for half an hour and wake quite refreshed.”

“You take good care of her,” Emily commented as she removed another layer of her baby’s clothing. “She could not be an easy woman to live with.”

“Oh, it’s not so difficult. I’ve been with her for some ten years now, and we’ve learned to accommodate one another.”

Emily looked skeptical, but said nothing further on the subject. Instead she questioned Nell about her family, or lack of it. Nell admitted that both her parents had been dead for some years, and that she’d come to Longstreet Manor at the age of fifteen ostensibly to assist in caring for Aunt Longstreet’s father in his declining days.

“I used to play checkers with him or read aloud for hours at a time,” she said. “He was a fine old gentleman. Did you know him, Mrs. Holmsly?”

“Oh, please, call me Emily. And, yes, I did meet him once or twice, though I could not really claim an acquaintance with him. I believe he left his entire estate to Miss Longstreet. Imagine! Since he had two daughters, I should have thought he would have divided it in some manner so that you would have received your mother’s share.”

“My mother’s parents disapproved of her marriage.”

“Nonetheless, they could have provided for you,” Emily insisted. “How very odd that they did not.”

“It is of no consequence,” Nell assured her. “I make my home with Aunt Longstreet, and it is a very comfortable home.”

Emily looked skeptical. “But she won’t live forever—and what will become of you then? Oh, of course, she will leave her property to you, to be sure.”

“It is my understanding,” Nell said carefully, “that your brother is Aunt Longstreet’s heir.”

“Well, she must surely have made provision for you, Miss Armstrong! If not out of familial bonds, then out of gratitude for your service to her.”

The baby had begun to fuss and Nell held out her arms. Without thinking, Emily entrusted little Walter to her companion and watched as Nell kissed his plump cheeks and cooed, “Who’s a good boy, then? Did you like your ride in the wagon, bumping over the cobbles? I should think that would be very amusing for a little fellow like you.”

 “Yes, he quite likes to be taken for a ride. But, Miss Armstrong,..."

"Nell, if you please. What a handsome boy he is! How old is he now?"

“Four months. But, Nell…”

“Four months! Why, I would have taken him for six, he’s such a stout fellow. His papa must be very proud.”

“Yes, indeed! He already has plans for when Walter is old enough to ride, and play at sports. I believe he would already be keeping his eyes open for a pony if he weren’t constantly reminded that it will be years before Walter is ready to ride. But, Nell…”

“Well, years pass very quickly. In just a few months he’ll be crawling, and then walking, and before long he will indeed be ready for his first pony. I am very fond of riding myself, though I did not learn until I came to Longstreet Manor. But I believe the younger one starts, the more at ease one is in the saddle. No doubt you rode early yourself, Emily?”

“I did. Papa said that I insisted on his taking me up on horseback with him when I was only five. And Hugh! The legend at Fallings is that Hugh took to riding Papa’s Great Dane when he was only two. But then, Hugh is a complete hand and always has been.”

Baby Walter had begun to squirm in Nell’s arms and she was unable to sufficiently calm him to keep his little voice from rising. Emily glanced at the doorway into the other room and grimaced. “I’d best be getting along, then, before your aunt awakens. It was such a pleasure to meet you, Nell. I hope we shall become better acquainted in the days to come.”

“Bath seems quite a small town. No doubt we shall see you in the Pump Room one of these mornings.”

“Or at one of the assemblies,” Emily suggested.

Nell smiled but made no response as she helped Emily wrap the child in another layer of blankets.

“You do go to the assemblies, do you not?” Emily persisted.

“Not as yet. We’ve only been in town for a week, and Aunt Longstreet would find little pleasure in such entertainment.”

“Then you must come with me!”

“That’s very kind of you, Emily, but I don’t believe that would be possible.”

“Whyever not?” her visitor demanded, but as Walter was now in full voice, she was distracted enough to allow Nell to shepherd her toward the entry hall. “I shall come again, probably without the baby,” Emily announced as Woodbridge held the front door open for her.

The nursery maid stepped forward to take charge of the clamoring infant, and Emily was able to extend her hand to Nell. “Do come to call on me, in the Circus. And…and bring your aunt, of course. You will be most welcome.”

“Thank you.” Nell stood watching as her guest skipped down the step and onto the pavement, but sighed with relief when Woodbridge closed the door on the infant’s cries. “If only my aunt may still be asleep…”

“Helen! What’s that racket?” called Aunt Longstreet from the front parlor. “Surely you’ve gotten rid of that tiresome girl by now.”

Nell rolled her eyes skyward and went to calm her aunt.

Chapter Three

Sir Hugh was unaware that his sister had paid a call on the two Queen Square ladies when he arrived at their house. He had a good excuse for calling on them, as he juggled the unwieldy volumes of the Peerage in his arms, perfectly aware that the burden was disordering the set of his mulberry coat. No sacrifice, he assured himself  ruefully, was too great to attempt to put himself into his godmother’s good graces once again.

He might have saved his efforts.

Miss Longstreet regarded him with astonishment when he arrived in her parlor bearing his gift. “What the devil have you got there?” she demanded.

Her companion rose swiftly to her feet and came forward to save one of the volumes from sliding out of his arms. Sir Hugh triumphantly set the others down on a table hastily cleared by the young woman. “The current Peerage, ma’am.”

“And what do you expect me to do with them, young man?”

“Why, you were quite determined yesterday in the lending library to borrow them and bring them home with you. I thought to make your task easier by bringing them straight away.”

“All of them? Why would I need all of them?”

Sir Hugh felt decidedly aggrieved. “Not knowing what your research involved, I could not very well choose a particular volume, ma’am. Perhaps you would like me to carry off those which do not interest you?”

Miss Longstreet’s countenance took on a crafty expression and she snapped, “That’s none of your business. But I won’t have them in here—nasty, dusty old books.”

“I assure you they are the current edition, and unlikely to be the least bit dusty.”

“No, no, of course they aren’t.” Miss Armstrong wished she could fan herself to subdue the color that she could feel suffusing her cheeks. Her aunt’s handsome godson had come back to see them after all! Just when she’d quite made up her mind she’d never see him again! She started toward the pile of books. “I’ll take these into the study, shall I, Aunt Longstreet?”

“You may put them in the kitchens for all I care,” that curmudgeonly lady retorted.

“Let me,” Sir Hugh insisted, as he once again gathered the volumes in his arms.

Nell led him down the hall to a room on the left, whose door she pushed open with a certain reluctance. “The thing is, you see, that we have taken the house furnished, and I should very much dislike having your volumes lost among those of the owner.”

She hastened into the room and swept a small stack of leather-bound books from the large central table and onto a high stool which stood near it. “I will do my utmost to see that they are well cared for, Sir Hugh, and that they are returned to you in good time.”

“There’s not the least need for any speedy return of them. I believe I ordered them when my sister’s child was born, just curious as to one branch of his ancestry, don’t you know.”

“We met your sister and little Walter this morning.”

“Did you? Where?”

“Why, here. She came to call.”

“Did she, by God!” Sir Hugh flushed. “Begging your pardon, Miss Armstrong. I hope she was not impertinent.”

“Now why should you think that?” Nell closed the study door behind them. “Aunt Longstreet was a trifle overbearing, I fear, and your sister is not accustomed to her ways.”

Sir Hugh paused in the hallway, his gaze intent on the young woman’s face. “Emily can be—ah—curious to the point of incivility at times. I trust you will not allow her to browbeat you in any way.”

“Your sister is charming, Sir Hugh. And the baby is delightful. Did you know that she transports him about in a wagon? How very clever of her.” Feeling a bit breathless, Nell reached for the doorknob to the parlor door, but Sir Hugh stayed her hand. Her breathing stopped altogether.

“A moment. You alarm me by your evasiveness, Miss Armstrong. I suspect that my sister offended you, and I am very sorry for it.”

His insistent manner startled her from her preoccupation with his physical nearness. With her gaze fully on his, she said, “You needn’t be, for Mrs. Holmsly did not offend me in any way. Perhaps it is my own reserved manners which are confounding you, Sir Hugh. I am a solitary person by nature and not given to confidences. You must not read so much into my discretion.”

“Now I am even more concerned,” he insisted, his brows drawing down into a full-blown frown. “Trust me to have a word with my sister, ma’am. I assure you she means not the least harm.”

“Truly, I am well aware of that, Sir Hugh.” She reached again for the doorknob and this time grasped and turned it now quite unaffected by his being partially in her way. “There is no need for you to distress yourself, I assure you.”

Sir Hugh left Queen Square feeling he had handled the moment awkwardly. From being rather delightfully flustered and charming, Nell had reverted completely to the reserved manner she’d attributed to herself. He walked rapidly up to the Circus and, gaining admittance to his sister’s home, learned that she was not in. “And Mr. Holmsly?” he asked, forgetting his sister’s grievance.

“Mr. Holmsly is out of town for a few days, Sir Hugh. Did you wish to leave a message for my mistress?”

“No, thank you. I believe I’m dining here tonight. Just tell Mrs. Holmsly that I called.”

When he found himself once again standing on the pavement, Sir Hugh experienced an unfamiliar restlessness. He did not consider himself a spoilt fellow, though he certainly indulged himself as any young man of fashion did. Pursuing a course of pleasure was almost a requirement for one of his situation, and Sir Hugh enjoyed riding, driving, and gaming as much as the next man.

Because of his expectations from his godmother, he had never seriously concerned himself with the potential danger of his current difficulties. His father, a bluff and hearty man, had been given to excessive gambling, and he was not a consistent winner at the tables. In fact, Sir Ralph had left Fallings encumbered to a degree which had alarmed Hugh when he learned, only on his father’s death, where matters stood. But he had been comforted by the knowledge that with good management and a reasonable amount of care, nothing financially disastrous was likely to happen.

Perhaps all along it had been the knowledge that in time there would be Miss Longstreet’s property to help restore the family’s fortunes, which had bolstered Sir Hugh’s confidence. Because now, when for the first time he felt less than sure of that eventual inheritance, he found himself taking another look at his situation—and finding it worrisome. 

“What ho, old man!” a voice called to him, interrupting his cogitations. “Look like you’ve lost your last friend. Nothing amiss with Mrs. Holmsly, I trust.”