Andrea Pickens - [Lessons in Love 02] (15 page)

Wrexham's eyes narrowed. "I do not doubt her veracity. You have met her—do you?"

Bingham shook his head. "No," he admitted. "Still, I see little that can be done about the matter. It is unlikely that she will ever be able to recover her property, for most likely the book has long ago been sold."

The earl's expression became even more grim. "You don't imagine I intend to let Sandhill get away with such behavior?"

Bingham swirled the tawny contents of his glass then rose and began to peruse the titles on the nearest shelf. After a lengthy silence he turned back to the earl.

"Leo, I have known you long enough to sense it is not the mere theft of a book that has roused you to such anger."

Wrexham didn't answer for a moment. "The younger Sandhill tried to rape her," he finally said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "When her younger brother, a lad no older than Max, tried to stop him, Sandhill beat badly enough to cause his death. Her life has been shattered by a so-called gentleman, one of our own. You expect me to turn away and do nothing?"

"Riding to the aid of a damsel in distress?" His friend smiled faintly. "It seems that deep at heart, you are still a romantic."

"Don't be ridiculous," growled the earl. "I am nothing of the sort. I simply dislike seeing an injustice done, especially by one who already enjoys a privileged life."

"Why not simply give her the money she would have received from the book rather than embark on some risky course of action? Lord knows, you're rich as Croesus and can well afford it."

"That's not the point," replied the earl doggedly. "Sandhill and his son must be punished for what they have done. Besides," he added with a grimace. "I doubt she would accept anything from me. Why, she's made it perfectly clear that she doesn't like me any more than she does Sandhill."

Bingham's eyebrow shot up for a moment, then his dry sense of humor reasserted itself. "Good heavens Leo, you used to have a modicum of charm."

The earl shot him a black look.

"I suppose that means you have informed her you mean to give her the sack?"

Wrexham shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Wouldn't be right to be less than honest about my intentions," he muttered. "But in any case, she has no great regard for any gentleman of title—not that I blame her."

Bingham finished off the contents of his glass. "Well, I can see there is no use trying to change your mind on this. When I return to town, I shall see what else I can discover for you. But have a care, Leo. Sandhill and son will not take any interference into their affairs lightly. And do not underestimate them—I fear they are very dangerous men."

Chapter 7

Allegra heard the wheels of Lord Bingham's carriage roll away from the entrance of the Hall at some ungodly hour near dawn. Sleep proved elusive after that, as she found herself mulling over the events of the past evening. Her feelings were decidedly mixed. That the conversation had been both stimulating and amusing was undeniable. And that the two gentlemen had treated her with such courtesy, even kindness, was more than she had ever have expected. But more than that, their lordships seemed to be truly concerned over her plight.

She bit her lip in consternation. That didn't make sense. They weren't supposed to care for anything but their own pleasure. Surely Wrexham would lose interest as soon as became tedious or inconvenient to think about the matter. And no doubt Lord Bingham, despite his warm manner and friendly words, would forget such an insignificant person as a female tutor long before he returned to his busy life in London. As she had learned more than once over the past year, it wouldn't do to get her hopes up that anyone, except perhaps her dear cousin Lucy, would care enough about her troubles to help.

As she recalled Wrexham's promise to tell his friend the full story over their port, a faint blush once again colored her features. It seemed that for the second time that day she had become the topic of conversation between the two gentlemen, a most unsettling realization. It was most difficult to have one's personal problems laid bare before strangers. Did they think her a fool? A weakling? Or worse, an object of pity?

But it was remembering Lord Bingham's words in the garden that caused the heat to rise to her cheeks. Intriguing eyes and interesting curves! She shook her head slightly. His lordship was no doubt merely teasing his friend when he had called her a most attractive young woman. She knew she was neither. And if she had had any delusions to the contrary, they would have been quickly dashed by Wrexham's reply. An ironic smile played on her lips. The earl's words summed up the matter quite neatly—he hadn't noticed.

Indeed, why should he?

And why should it bother her in the least that he hadn't?

It didn't, she assured herself as she flung back the covers with a touch more vehemence than necessary. Further sleep was nigh on impossible, so she dressed and quietly left her room, hoping that a brisk early morning walk might chase away such disquieting thoughts.

By the time she returned to the manor and entered the breakfast room, she felt much better and was about to greet Max with a cheery good morning when, to her surprise, she noted the glum expression on his face. Even more revealing of his depressed spirits was the fact that he was merely pushing the food around on his plate, and a plate of scones sat untouched by his elbow.

She buttered a piece of toast and sipped at her tea before breaking the silence. "Why the long face? Or would you prefer I didn't ask?"

An elbow found its way onto the table to prop up a jutting chin. "I... I wish that Lord Bingham could have stayed longer. It can be rather flat around here without any visitors. Father prefers it that way, but... it's so quiet." He heaved a sigh and jabbed at a slice of Yorkshire ham. "Rusher said that when my mother was alive, our London townhouse was always filled with guests, and there were parties and balls."

Allegra measured her words carefully. "I think you might find such an existence might lose its shine rather quickly—there is rarely an idea of substance discussed or honest opinion given."

Max's brows came together at that.

"You must also realize that maybe it is hard for your father—perhaps such things remind him too much of his loss. Was he... very much in love with your mother?"

He considered the question for some time. "He never speaks of her," he finally answered in a small voice. "But he must have. I've overheard the servants saying she was called the darling of Society."

She was probably diminutive, with porcelain skin, rosebud lips and raven tresses, not tall and gangly with sun darkened cheeks and hair neither blond nor brown thought Allegra with a touch of waspishness. And Lord Wrexham probably doted on her every vacuous word.

Then, with a start, she suddenly realized there was no portrait of the lady anywhere in the Hall. That seemed strange, but she shrugged it off and forced her attention back to Max. "Well, I'm sure you will come to appreciate that your father has taught you to value intelligent conversation over the fripperies of society. I'm sorry you are feeling blue deviled at the moment but remember, you will soon have a chance to judge for yourself, for soon you will be journeying to London. There you will get all the excitement that you desire."

His eyes lit up a bit. "I cannot wait, save for that it also means that you—"

"Kindly remove your elbow from your plate, Max." The earl stepped in through the french doors. He looked as if he had just returned from a hard gallop, his hair ruffled around the collar of his riding jacket, the color of his wind whipped cheeks only emphasizing the rich blue of his eyes. Right now they were fixed with a penetrating intensity on his son. "And sit up straight."

Max's lower lip jutted out. Already in a testy mood, he was quick to take umbrage at the mild reproof. Quite deliberately, he slumped even more in his chair and began to mash his shirred eggs into an unappetizing lump with some bits of kippers.

Wrexham sat down as one of the servants brought him a cup of tea.

Allegra bit her lip, wondering just how much the earl had overheard. But rather than dwell on her own possible embarrassment at having discussed his personal life, she sought to stave off any unpleasant confrontation between father and son. "Max, if you are finished, perhaps we should begin our lessons now. What would you—"

"Max," warned the earl as he looked up.

The lad threw down his fork. "Why bother having manners? There's no one here to see them!" he said bitterly.

"You will apologize to Mrs. Proctor for such a churlish remark," said Wrexham quietly. "Then you will forego lessons for the morning and take yourself off to your room. If you insist on acting like a child, you will be treated as one."

The lad threw an angry look at his father as he pushed away from the table. "Why can't you be more like Lord Bingham!" he cried hotly. "He doesn't treat me as if I am still eight years old. He would let me see something of the world." His wildly roving eyes fell on Allegra. "And he is not rude to Mrs. Proctor. He wouldn't turn her out just because I wish for her to stay!"

Stifling what sounded suspiciously like a sob, he threw down his napkin and fled from the room.

Though his features were rigidly under control, Wrexham's face turned a shade paler and his eyes betrayed both hurt and bewilderment.

Allegra shot the earl a look of sympathy. "Pray, do not give Max's outburst too much heed, my lord. I fear he was quite out of sorts before you came in. Your words were merely an excuse to give vent to his feelings."

The earl's brow creased. "I hadn't realized he was so... unhappy."

She shook her head. "I don't think it is that at all, sir. Lads of this age are at a most difficult stage, neither child nor adult. I suppose they must flail about and challenge authority simply in order to test their own growing muscle."

Wrexham regarded her thoughtfully. "That is quite perceptive of you, Mrs. Proctor."

"My brother—"she began before abruptly cutting off her words and starting anew. "With your leave, I shall go up and have a word with Max. I'm sure he already regretting his unwarranted outburst."

His fingers drummed on the table. "If you think it best." He hesitated a moment. "I would have thought you might enjoy seeing Max and me at daggers drawn."

"Perhaps you find it hard to believe, but I would never wish to see you at odds with your son, sir. Max is—well, Max is a very special young man and you have been an admirable father to him."

The earl looked a bit startled, then his lips compressed into a rueful smile. "But not, it seems, as admirable as my friend." He went on, more to himself than Allegra. "Edmund has always found it an easy thing to make people like him. You found him pleasant, did you not?"

"Quite," she agreed. "Intelligent and witty as well."

Wrexham's eyes narrowed slightly. "Ladies find him extremely attractive."

She couldn't resist. "Oh? I hadn't noticed. But then again, females of my advanced years don't take note of such things."

He looked as if to say something, then pushed away his empty cup and stood up. "I mean to ride over to Lord Sandhill's this morning."

It was Allegra's turn to look startled. "Please sir, you needn't let Max's words goad you into—"

"Mrs. Proctor, I told you earlier that I meant to look into this matter. Contrary to what you might think of me, I don't require my son's reminder to keep my word." With that, he stalked from the room.

It appeared that neither of the Sloanes were in the best of humors this morning.

* * *

Max dropped his book and peered out the window. "He's back," he announced, unable to contain the note of anticipation in his voice.

The earl tossed the reins of his stallion to a waiting groom and came inside.

"I wonder what he has learned."

"Perhaps you should wait a bit before—" But the lad was already headed for the stairs. With a sigh, Allegra rose and followed him. If Wrexham was going to be pestered into telling what he had discovered, she might as well hear it too. But on reaching the door to the library, she paused, seeing that Max was shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot behind the earl's back, uncertain of how to approach his father.

Finally he swallowed hard and spoke. "Ahh, Father."