Rebel Dreams (44 page)

Evelyn laughed low in her throat and wrapped her arms
reassuringly around him. “I love you, and you may strangle me all you want,
after you make love to me. If you have the strength.”

The carriage arrived in the afternoon while Alex was still
out. Already informed of the impending arrival, Deirdre clasped Evelyn’s hand
reassuringly. “You have done the right thing, Evelyn. Let us not stand on
ceremony but go to meet them. It will have been a difficult journey.”

“Do you think we should send word to Alex? I know he is
eager to see her even if he is terrified of her hatred. Tell me, Deirdre, I am
all a-dither and cannot think.”

Deirdre smiled affectionately. “I’ll send someone to look
for Alex while you greet our guests. He can do as he wishes when he hears the
news.”

“Let us hope he does not wish to get drunk,” Evelyn
responded grimly as she started for the hallway. “Right now I can understand
the temptation.”

Deirdre’s laugh followed her into the confusion of the wide
entry hall. Servants were scurrying about carrying bags and parcels and icy
cloaks and hats while the newcomers gaped at their surroundings and reluctantly
surrendered the protection of their outer garments piece by piece.

While their attention was distracted, Evelyn studied her
newly discovered stepdaughter. The girl stood aside from the nervous vicar and
his wife, staring up at the murals ascending the stairway to the magnificent
skylight. She was tall, nearly as tall as Evelyn already, and she wore her
thick black hair unbound and cascading down her back. Her complexion had more
color than her cousin Alyson’s, but it was not the ruddy, weathered look of a
farmer’s daughter so much as a golden hue of striking attractiveness. When she
realized she was observed and turned to meet Evelyn’s gaze, Evelyn nearly
gasped at the beauty of the long-lashed dark eyes greeting her—Alex’s eyes.

Evelyn loved her instantly, if only for the eyes. Hurrying
forward, she clasped the girl’s cold fingers between her own. The girl could
scarcely be considered a child any longer. Both face and body revealed a
maturity unusual for one of such a tender age. No wonder the vicar worried for
her safety. She possessed an awkward grace, as if not yet accustomed to her new
status as woman. Her gaze flickered with childish uncertainty, but she quickly
masked it with indifference as she removed her hand.

Evelyn made no fuss, but turned to greet the girl’s elderly
chaperons. “I am Lady Cranville, and you must be the Granthams. I’m so happy to
meet you at last. Won’t you please come in by the fire? It must have been a
terrible journey, but we are so grateful that you could make it.”

Talking to disguise her nervousness, she led their guests to
the small family parlor where Deirdre waited. The Granthams replied reservedly
to her steady stream of questions. Their protégée said nothing.

Evelyn introduced the Granthams to Deirdre. When she came to
Alex’s daughter, she drew her forward. “And this, of course is Elizabeth
Margaret. How are you called at home, Elizabeth? Beth? Bess?”

“Margaret, just like my Grandmother Hampton, but she’s not a
Hampton any longer, is she? They call her Lady Barton now.”

The girl’s cool address left Evelyn momentarily nonplussed,
but Deirdre took it in stride. She gestured for their guests to take seats. “Your
father’s mother never was a Hampton except briefly by name. It was considerate
of your mother to share part of your heritage with you. Lady Barton still
resides in the area, then?”

The vicar replied when the girl did not. “Oh, yes, my lady.
She has been the baronet’s wife these many years past, and a strong supporter
of the church. She is an invalid, however. We seldom see her in the village.”

Evelyn had not considered the possibility that Alex’s mother
was still alive. He had never mentioned her since that night at the inn, and no
one else had ever offered any indication of her existence. What a strange
family this was. No wonder Alex was reluctant to divulge much of his past.

Tea and hot chocolate were brought in with a selection of
biscuits and cakes meant to appease the appetite until a proper meal could be
prepared. Evelyn watched as Margaret sipped at the rich chocolate. The girl
continued to study her surroundings, occasionally coming back to Evelyn as the
difficulty of travel in winter was discussed.

“When you are warm, perhaps I could show you to your room.”
Evelyn said to the girl. “A few months ago I was as much a stranger here as you
are now, and I still find the place a trifle overwhelming. I tried to find a
room you might feel comfortable in, but we can always look for a better one
when we explore the house.”

The girl’s gaze was hostile. “You are the one who sent for
me, aren’t you? Why? Can you not have children of your own?”

The question was brutally direct and all Hampton. Evelyn’s
lips quirked upward. “If your father were in your place, he would have asked
the same thing. I think Hamptons are born suspicious, except your cousin
Alyson, of course. I cannot answer your questions as easily as they are asked,
and I will warn you now that while your father can be just as blunt, he also
takes offense as easily as you. Your question would have offended him.”

“Then he shall just have to send me back where I came from. I’ve
done without him quite nicely all these years.”

Margaret appeared unperturbed, but Evelyn could see how
tightly she clenched the fragile cup before she set it back on the tray.

“You have done well because you had another father who loved
you all these years,” Evelyn said gently. “How is your mother taking this?”

The girl shrugged. “She is happy and already entertaining
other gentleman callers. She never argued when Reverend Grantham named me a
bastard, although he did it in much politer terms.”

The news that the father she knew wasn’t her real father
must have broken the child’s heart.

“You have a name,” Evelyn corrected. “You’re not a bastard.
Someday, perhaps your father will tell you the story, but in the meantime I
will not allow anyone, not even you, to call you by that term. If you are done,
let us go see your bedroom.”

Evelyn rose and held out her hand. The others turned to
watch anxiously as Margaret hesitated, but a child’s curiosity won out over the
more adult bitterness. Scorning the offered hand, she rose and followed Evelyn
from the room.

They were coming back down the stairs when a furor in the
front hall erupted. Alex’s booming, furious voice was unmistakable. A woman’s
high-pitched whining was not so easily recognizable.

“You cannot do this to me, Alexander! It’s a public
disgrace. How could you? All these years we’ve ignored the embarrassing rumors
until they were all but forgotten. And now you do this! You cannot publicly
acknowledge a bastard, Alexander! It is simply not done. I will be the
laughingstock of the community. How will I hold my head up when I go out?”

“My daughter is not a bastard, madam!” Alex’s words
thundered through the hall like fireworks. “If you should so name her again, I
will forbid you this house or any other that belongs to me or mine. You chose
your life, and I have made what I could of mine without you. I do not need your
commands at this late date.”

Alex’s mother was here?

Evelyn watched as Margaret’s fingers gripped the banister
with such force her knuckles whitened. It wasn’t the manner in which Evelyn
would prefer to introduce father and daughter, but it was typical. Placing her
hand on the girl’s shoulder, she gestured toward the stairs. They couldn’t remain
here to eavesdrop.

“Oh, my, I don’t think I can bear it! Alexander, I feel
faint. Help me to the sofa. That my own son should speak to me so . . .”
the voice wailed upward as Evelyn and Margaret proceeded down.

“Burton, help my mother to that chair. She will be leaving
shortly. Where is my wife?” Alex spoke briskly, callously dismissing his mother’s
vapors.

Evelyn reached the foyer with her arm still across Margaret’s
shoulders. With curiosity, she observed the small woman in flowing fur-lined
cloak dramatically press the back of her hand to her forehead. “I am here,
husband,” Evelyn called with a smile, interrupting the histrionics.

The lady dropped the pose.

Alex almost looked relieved at Evelyn’s approach, until he
noted her companion. His face froze into his perpetual mask.

“I do so love happy family reunions, Alex,” Evelyn said,
concealing a smile at his dumbstruck expression. “Would you introduce me to
your mother? And I would like to make you acquainted with your daughter,
Margaret.”

The silence was deafening. Margaret met the gaze of her
large, furious father, but she did not run and flee. Grateful for that, Evelyn
squeezed her shoulders.

Alex didn’t take his gaze off his daughter. “Mother, Lady
Barton, this is my wife, Evelyn, and my daughter, Margaret, who for some odd
reason has been named after you. Her mother never did have much sense.”

“Alex!” Evelyn remonstrated. She released Margaret to hold
out her hand to Lady Barton. “So pleased to meet you, my lady. Would you come
in and have some tea? Lady Cranville and the Granthams are there, and we will
be much cozier by the fire.”

“I will not come anywhere where that . . .
that urchin is welcome.” Lady Barton withheld her hand, turning her glare to
her son and ignoring her daughter-in-law and granddaughter. “I am not at all
well, Alexander. I demand to be shown a room at once.”

Alex and his daughter were still regarding each other
warily. At his mother’s whining demands, he sent her a brief look of
irritation. “Say hello to my wife and daughter first. Then I will send someone
to help you to a room.”

Evelyn noted the ghost of a smile crossing Margaret’s face
as she stared at the woman who must have scorned her all her life. It seemed
odd to Evelyn that grandmother and granddaughter could live in the same small
village and never meet on equal terms, but the terms had changed now. The girl’s
chin lifted an inch higher when her grandmother glared at her in horror.

The older woman took the only way out. She moaned, closed
her eyes, and swooned.

Alex inelegantly caught her with one arm and passed her to a
footman. “Find a dungeon somewhere to keep her in. She’ll recover soon enough.”
Then he turned to wife and daughter and offered both arms. “It’s damn cold in
here. Shall we?”

Delight danced in Margaret’s dark eyes as she took her
father’s arm. Amused, Evelyn took the other, merely checking to watch that his
mother was carried safely away to the upper stories. The lady had made her
choice. So be it.

Deirdre and the Granthams exclaimed with happiness as Alex
entered with wife and daughter on either arm. The truce might be a temporary
one brought about by a common enemy, but it was a much better start than could
have been anticipated. Beaming with relief, the Granthams reassured themselves
of their charge’s well-being, and hastily exited.

Evelyn filled in the awkwardness of their departure by
discussing the changes Margaret might prefer in the bedchamber she had just
seen. Alex sat in his chair, watching his only child with an unreadable
expression. The two were so obviously father and daughter that Evelyn had to
swallow a lump in her throat several times while she spoke.

When a lull fell in the feminine conversation, Alex intruded
cautiously. “Margaret, we were told that you would prefer to attend a finishing
school for your education. Is this so?”

Twisting her glove, Margaret didn’t reply immediately but
composed her words first. “I had thought to learn to be a governess, but with
Papa gone, I suppose that’s not necessary. Are there schools to teach me how to
run a farm?”

Alex continued studying her. “I would be better off if there
were. Somehow, I have to learn to run my estates in Cornwall now that my cousin
is gone. The task looks quite formidable. Perhaps by the time you are old
enough to operate the farm on your own, I will know enough to teach you. In the
meantime, perhaps you would like to attend a school where you might learn
French and etiquette and whatever it is that they teach in those places.”

Evelyn suspected the girl’s mention of running the farm had
been thrown out as a challenge. That Alex didn’t dismiss it out of hand as so
many men would have had left Margaret gaping. Before she could ruin the moment
with typical Hampton wit, Evelyn intervened.

“Of course, your home will be here, Margaret. We could hire
a tutor if you would prefer, but there aren’t many girls your age in the
vicinity, and neither of us is familiar with the neighbors in Cornwall. It
might be nice to meet other girls your age so you can have friends to bring
home with you on the holidays. You don’t need to decide immediately. We just
wish to see you safe and happy.”

Margaret stared pensively at her hands. “Why are you doing
this?” she whispered.

Evelyn sat back and waited for Alex to answer. He shot her a
helpless glare, but gave in and took on the task of explaining.

“I wanted to do this from the very beginning, Meg. I never
meant to deny you. You will need to ask your mother about her decision to
choose another father for you. Perhaps she made the right choice at the time. I
was young when you were born and couldn’t have cared for you as I ought. In
case no one has informed you, I have not been a model of exemplary behavior.
Let us just say it is past time that we got to know each other. I am proud of
how well you’ve turned out, but I’d like to have a small part in helping you
become all that you can be. Perhaps someday, when you become a parent, you’ll
understand that.”

The girl raised her head defiantly. “I don’t intend to marry
and have babies. I’ll teach other people’s children and run my life the way I
want to do it!”

Alex and Evelyn exchanged glances of mutual understanding
and a hint of laughter. It was Alex who replied. “Fine with me, chit. Now, let’s
go dress before I starve to death.”