Defying the Earl (22 page)

Wilhelmina’s anger slipped a notch. He touched his hand to her arm as he bid goodbye and she remained staring at her sleeve when the shopkeeper materialized and called her to the counter, the fat tabby nestled in his arms.

“You’ve returned for your mother’s bracelet?”

Wilhelmina blinked away her confusion, only to have it replaced by the question of how the shopkeeper remembered her. Perhaps his store was not very busy. And true, she had become over-emotional when she’d visited the first time.

The cat slinked to the floor, walked a circle around her person and then leapt to settle beside the shopkeeper’s elbow.

“The bracelet is still available, isn’t it? I noticed it wasn’t in the window, but I remained hopeful.”

“Of course. I’ve kept it in a place of precious security, its value incomparable.” With a smile, the man ran his palm across the tabby’s back and then lifted the feline into his arms. His fingers went to work, untying the sage green collar, the tinkling noise of charms and chain landing on the glass countertop a delightful surprise. “There you are, safe and repaired to perfection. I’m sure I could fetch you a very handsome price if you desired. You’ll notice I found the ideal charm to complete your mother’s heirloom.”

“It matches.” Wilhelmina lifted the bracelet and examined it closely; the teardrop pearl with engraved scrolled clasp did look perfect among the others. In an odd unexplainable coincidence, the silver work showed an exact likeness. “How can that be?” She tapped the pearl charm with her fingertip, watching it sway with soft vacillation. “I can’t wait until Livie sees this.”

Valerian arrived at Barnaby Street without his usual recriminating attitude despite he could hear raucous laughter before turning the key in the lock. Wilhelmina agreed to visit Kirby Park. Nothing could be wrong with the day.

He entered the drawing room to find Jasper and Randolph sharing brandy and conversation instead of their usual propensity to be at sixes and sevens. He was taken aback, unaccustomed to finding the two moonlings civilized and up to the mark. Swallowing his ready jobation, he viewed them with a skeptical eye. “What is happening here? And don’t waste my time telling bouncers.” Valerian dropped his gloves on the sideboard and waited for Jasper’s reply. He was in no mood for nonsense, wishing to leave for Kirby Park straightaway, the notion that he might explain his purpose to Whimsy and regain her esteem teased at the periphery of his brain.

“It’s a wonder we’re brothers, we’re so dissimilar. You’re already worked into a temper because you believe me incapable of nothing more than bumble-broth.” Jasper’s usual corky grin was absent, a look of dejection in its place. “You should know I’ve been quite deedy since we’ve last talked, well aware of your perception we’re rolled-up with little opportunity.”

“He’s spoken of little else.” Randolph chimed his support. “Nary a day passes when he doesn’t give finances thoughtful lucubration.”

The exaggerated wink that followed Randolph’s announcement did little to mollify Valerian’s suspicions. “In what manner would that be evident, Jasper? Have you ceased keeping outlandish hours and running up thoughtless expenses? Have you deposited funds into our accounts?” Dash all but choked on the questions. Could their pitiful balance even be considered an account? It was a wonder the clerks didn’t break out in laughter when he dared enter the bank. He exhaled a long sigh, his imagination taunting his patience.

Sixth Earl of Dashwood Six Pence From Poverty
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“I’ve never considered you a slow top, yet you’re up to no good. I can tell.”

“Not a worry, Dash. Through Randolph’s association I’ve signed an agreement with a few bobs and gobble-cocks interested in aggressive investment. Were it not for my shrewd business acuity, they’d reap all the profit, but this time we’ll be flush in the pockets before you can say gooseberry cheese.”

“Gooseberry cheese? That’s a dandy, Jasper.” A low chuckle rippled through Randolph. “Your brother’s a clever fellow, Dash.”

“Indeed.” Valerian’s sardonic tone contradicted his agreement. “I regret throwing a rub in the path of your plans, but I’ve decided to return to Kirby Park and I need you to accompany me.” He wouldn’t list the hard work that awaited them, most especially for the front rooms where he’d entertain Whimsy and hopefully, help her to notice his sincerity instead of the peeling paint and faded curtains.

“You needn’t worry any longer, Dash. We won’t be run off our legs after all. Have I another week or two—”

“You are out of weeks, days, and minutes. I’ve no more patience for your shams, no matter how well-meaning.”

“See here, Dash, your brother knows what he’s talking about. Granted, some of our ventures were enough to make a stuffed bird laugh.” Randolph swiveled his head from Valerian to Jasper. “Remember that loose screw with the grass cutting machine?”

The two collapsed with laughter before Jasper calmed enough to reply. “Every time he demonstrated his lawn motor I launched into a fit of sternutation.”

“You beat my record of nine sneezes without even trying.”

“Gentlemen.” Valerian hoped to prod the conversation to rights with a reasonable tone absent of admonishment. Success proved elusive. “Despite your prediction of overflowing pockets, a trip home is in order. We leave in one hour. I expect you to be packed and ready.”

He turned on his heel and took the stairs, anxious to collect his belongings. Perhaps it was a fool’s errand, his hope as farfetched as Jasper’s invention investments, but if he could somehow explain his motivation to Wilhelmina she might find it in her heart to regard him as a friend. Not that the notion of friendship suited him. Somewhere along the way, Whimsy, with her angelic eyes and delicious sharp-sweet tongue had taken up residence in his heart. He hadn’t allowed affection of any sort since Caroline, but he rather liked the idea of Wilhelmina reviving the sad neglected organ.

And he knew as sure as the sunrise, she’d viewed him in the same regard at one point. Her response to his kisses was evidence enough, but the look in her eyes! That is where he read her deepest emotions. That is where she showed her wonder, admiration and at times, passion.

If he could persuade her to see reason and understand why he needed funds so desperately, then maybe she would forgive his poor decisions. Then he’d explain how he’d never intended to execute Rigby’s absurd plan, not once he’d understood her precious venture. He could never work against her cause.

Salvaging Kirby Park would preserve the last shred of his dignity. He’d promised his father. Damn it all, he’d promised himself. Yet, he’d gladly swallow his pride if Whimsy offered him the opportunity to explain. Surely, she understood familial obligation. She and her sister were dependent upon the charity of their aunt. All he wished was a chance to see his childhood home restored, his parents’ memory preserved. Kirby Park was an heirloom of sorts, and a tribute to the title, the last living breathing portion of St. David history.

It would be the perfect home for a wife and family.

Still, what could he offer were Wilhelmina to wash clean his faults and accept his affection? The thought of kissing her tightened his groin in a flood of carnal heat. He best abandon the notion until after he finished his ride.

Wilhelmina arrived home to quietude. She climbed the stairs to her sister’s bedchamber but found Rose alone in the room, the housekeeper tending the fire and replacing the water pitcher on the bedside table. She quickly learned Aunt Kate and Livie were in the garden behind the house. It was nothing more than a small patch of grass and a few rose bushes, but during summer weather it served as a pleasant respite. Livie must be feeling much improved to have ventured downstairs and outside. Feeling eager to join them, she only paused when she noticed the lap desk perched on the bedside chair. The immediate memory of the letter packet Livie had protected weeks before sprang to mind. The linens had just been changed so Wilhelmina abandoned the idea of a quick peek behind the pillows, instead approaching the small chest at the right side of the bed.

It had been moved to better accommodate Livie and the nurse during treatments, but now it looked like the ideal place to hide something, especially if one rarely left the room. Indeed she hid her commonplace book in the same location in her bedchamber.

As soon as Rose departed, Wilhelmina opened the chest and searched the contents, mollifying her objecting conscience with platitudes aimed at sibling responsibility and protection. Wilhelmina could never forgive herself if Livie was involved in any type of inappropriate correspondence. She promised herself she’d just have a quick glance, and locating the pile of letters with nervous fingers, she lifted them from the chest and placed them atop the counterpane for examination. Before she could change her mind, she removed the slim ribbon binding the letters together.

The first was dated two years prior and as she rifled through the stack, they progressed in succession until a day before their parents’ accident. How very curious. With whom did Livie correspond and why? Wilhelmina ran her fingertip along the edge of the paper, her insatiable curiosity at war with her loyalty. Livie had reacted quite vehemently when Whimsy had asked about the letters.

Her nail teased the flap, running underneath for the length of a breath until she snatched her hand away. It was wrong to break her sister’s trust. What if she read something that she shouldn’t? How would she ever be able to keep her concern from Livie?

Determined to replace the papers in their exact position, Wilhelmina quickly piled them together to retie the ribbon, but in her haste, one of the letters slipped off her lap and landed on the floorboards near her slipper. It lay face down, the opening bent, the pale handwriting within exposed by unlikely fancy of its position.

Again curiosity urged she read what was written. There was no harm in knowing, was there? It wasn’t as if she would act on whatever the message contained. Her curiosity wrestled better sense into submission and she unfolded the most recent letter; the foolscap was well worn as if it had been read and reread several times. Her eyes had hardly scanned the signature line when Livie’s voice was heard speaking loudly to Aunt Kate on the stair.

Abashed at what she had been about to do, Wilhelmina returned the letters to the chest before spinning to welcome Livie as she entered with a smile.

“Whimsy, what a wonderful surprise. We were outside for tea. The weather is better than pleasant.” Livie sat on the end of the mattress and sighed. “But the stairs have taken their toll and I am feeling weary right now.”

Fisting her hands to stop their trembling, Wilhelmina offered Livie a tentative smile and replied, “Yes, the sky hasn’t a cloud this morning, but I’ll let you rest.” She bustled past the bed, hardly nodding to Aunt Kate approaching in the hallway before closing the door of her bedchamber to lean back against the panel, her heart pounding as her brain considered new questions. Who the devil was this Randolph person? And why had he written so many letters to Livie?

Chapter Eighteen

Valerian arrived at Kirby Park anxious to set repairs into motion. He’d forwarded funds as soon as he’d decided his course of action and knew with confidence Turner and Cook would be working to accomplish the tasks needed until he arrived to control the situation. His reasons for insisting Jasper accompany him were twofold. On the most rudimentary level, he’d need another set of strong shoulders to move furniture and tackle the endless list of tasks required to make the front rooms and foyer presentable. With a more purposeful intent, he no longer trusted Jasper to avoid trouble unless under his watchful eye.

Complicating matters, Lord Rigby, not having gotten his desired outcome, hadn’t paid the full amount promised. The old earl had brushed him off with a significantly smaller share and Valerian had no choice but to accept it and continue on his way. That being what it was he’d dedicated the majority of the funds to household upkeep, directing Turner of the necessities through messenger. He stood now, pleased to discover a portion of his objectives had already been accomplished.

He noted the repaired slate steps and entered into a polished and respectable hall. No one would mistake Kirby Park for a resplendent example of aristocratic wealth, but at the moment, Val aimed for a mere semblance of respectability. The glass window panes had been cleaned and the brass buffed. The fragrance of fresh beeswax lingered in the air and the marbles had been polished. It posed a solid introduction to improvement.

Undoubtedly, Wilhelmina would learn the lows to which the earldom had sunk, but his purpose was not to impress her with opulent furnishings. When she arrived, he hoped to explain his actions.

On his deathbed, his father had pleaded his promise to restore Kirby Park and trusted him to oversee Jasper and repair their standard of living, yet the true impetus lay within Valerian’s heart. His father was a strong man, yet his future had been broken with the death of his wife, in much the same way Valerian grieved for his mother. Life afterward became a sweeping decline into distraction and entertainment, his father never wishing to face the aching loss.

In kind, the earldom, estate and St. David reputation, deteriorated. Out of respect for his mother, regard for her death, and his commitment to personal integrity, he would restore their home.

He possessed thirty years and a newfound desire to start living again. Kirby Park was his soul’s refuge and the place where he would build his future. It was not so hard to imagine a lovely wife and handful of sprites at her side. In his mind’s eye he pictured the unexpected vision with pristine clarity; long silky hair, slightly disheveled, heart-shaped face upturned, and spectacular sable-brown eyes glistening with a bit of sharp retort notwithstanding. If he inhaled deeply, he could conjure lemon and gardenia, as fresh as the beginning of a new life. Well suited in all respects and exactly right.

Wilhelmina would arrive.

He would confess.

She would understand.

He rehearsed the orderly scenario in his brain and a seed of hope took root in his heart.