The Bartered Bride (25 page)

Nonetheless, Gavin rapped the door sharply with the dolphin-shaped knocker. Less than a minute passed before the door was opened by the stiff butler who seemed to be standard in London houses. The man scanned him and decided Gavin looked gentlemanly enough to be invited inside. "Good day, sir. Do you wish to leave a card?"

Gavin glanced around the vestibule. It was smaller than Ashburton House, but impressive enough. Handing over the card, he said, "I'd like to see Lord Seabourne." The butler looked at the name, back to Gavin's face, then ushered him into a drawing room. "I will see if his lordship is receiving."

The wait seemed interminable. Gavin fidgeted around the room, unable to sit. Though he'd planned this for years, he didn't know what he expected, or even what he wanted, other than to brandish a symbolic banner to honor his father. He certainly wouldn't be clasped to the bosom of the Elliotts. Nor did he want to be.

"You're Gavin Elliott?"

Gavin turned at the cold voice, and was disappointed to see a man younger than himself who appeared to have swallowed a hot poker. "So I am," he said, his accent at its most American. "I gather Seabourne refuses to see me."

"On the contrary." The young man's manner had all the arrogance of his class, but his cold gaze was intent. "I am Phillip Elliott, the seventh Earl of Seabourne. My grandfather died last winter." The disappointment was crushing. Gavin had come too late. "My regrets on your loss." He studied the other man, intrigued by an undeniable family resemblance. Height, coloring, even the general cast of features, were similar enough that the two of them could pass for brothers. "I suppose you're my cousin." Seabourne scowled. "What kind of rig are you trying to run? If you're some bastard Elliott relation, I have no interest in making your acquaintance."

"I'm no more a bastard than you." Gavin clamped down on anger. "My parents were lawfully married in the Church of Scotland by my other grandfather, though the old devil who died last winter refused to recognize my mother or the marriage. Since I'm settling in London I thought I'd call, but I see I've wasted my time."

Seabourne turned white. "Who was your father?"

"James Elliott, who married Anna Fraser in Aberdeen." Gavin's voice turned dry. "Captain the Honorable James Elliott of the king's navy, hero of Trafalgar, scapegoat for disaster after his family disowned him, and a successful American merchant. Don't worry, I'm no more enthralled to be related to you than vice versa. I'd hoped to meet the sixth earl so I could tell him what a damned fool he was, but I left it for too long."

He was donning his hat when Seabourne asked, "Do you have proof of your identity?"

"Of course. Certificate of birth, my parents' marriage lines, the usual documents." Gavin wondered at the younger man's reaction. "Though I think my face might be proof enough. Why does it matter? I want nothing from you."

Sounding as if the words were bitter in his mouth, his cousin replied, "Because if you're who you claim to be-you are the rightful Earl of Seabourne."

Gavin's jaw dropped. "Me, the earl? That's absurd! My father was a younger son."

"James was the second son." Phillip looked like thunder. "My father, Albert, was the third. The eldest, John, his son, and my own father all died before my grandfather." If that was true, it explained his cousin's anger-the man thought he was about to be displaced. But if that was so, why did he bother to mention the subject to Gavin, who'd been happily ignorant of the family tree?

Probably because the truth had a way of coming out, and the younger man recognized that sweeping a senior cousin under the carpet would be risky if Gavin intended to stay in London. Gavin felt a certain reluctant admiration for his cousin's willingness to take the bull by the horns. "No need to look as if you'd like to strike me dead. I've no interest in your precious title, nor the fortune I presume goes with it. But how could you not know of my existence? My father occasionally communicated with the Elliott family lawyer. I was born well before we emigrated to America. It should have been known immediately if I was the legitimate heir."

"It was reported that you drowned with your parents. Either the report was wrong, or you're an imposter."

With an heir at hand in England, there would have been little incentive to check on Gavin's reported death. "I'm no imposter, but as I said, you needn't worry. Pretend I never called today." Philip glared at him. "And live with you hanging over my head like the Sword of Damocles? How could I sleep nights knowing that at any moment you might decide to claim Seabourne? This must be settled. Where are you staying? "

"Ashburton House on Grosvenour Square."

"My solicitor will call on you," Philip Elliott snapped. "Now leave. You are not welcome in this house until and unless you prove yourself the rightful owner."

Still dazed, Gavin swiftly found himself outside in Berkeley Square. Whatever he'd expected from visiting his father's family-it sure to God hadn't been this.

Serious shopping with a crowd of one's female relations was delightful but exhausting. By the time Alex returned to Ashburton House, she was ready for a nap. Not Katie; apparently tireless, she scampered up to the schoolroom with the other two girls, whom Alex had decided to call "the cousins," even though Anne was Katie's half-aunt and Maria was-a step-cousin once removed? Alex fell asleep on top of the bed while trying to puzzle out the relationship.

She woke when the connecting door between her room and her husband's opened. Sleepily she rolled over. "Gavin?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

Hearing an odd note in his voice, she sat up, trying to see his expression in the lengthening shadows. What she saw worried her-his posture had an explosive tension unlike anything she'd seen during the Lion Game, or even when the Helena was fighting off pirates. "Gavin, what's wrong? " He stayed by the door in the shadows. "Today I visited my grandfather's house. He died last winter."

"I'm sorry you never had a chance to meet him, but based on his behavior, he doesn't sound like much of a loss," she said bluntly. "Did his death upset you more than you expected?

"Some, but I'm more bothered by the fact ..." he drew a deep breath. "I found a cousin who tells me that I'm the Earl of Seabourne."

She caught her breath. "You're one of those Elliotts? Good God, I had no idea! Congratulations, my lord husband. What an unexpected honor."

He stared at her. "You think this is good?"

His expression shocked her to wakefulness as she recognized how badly she'd misjudged. An Englishman would be delighted at such news, but Gavin was genuinely appalled. "I'm sorry, I've been raised to think that inherited titles and fortunes may not be the measure of a man, but they're quite nice." His mouth twisted. "And I've been raised to think them the work of the devil. I want no part of that damned title. I'll renounce it or refuse it or whatever it takes." She hesitated. "That may not be possible."

"Why not? Is the prospect of being a countess irresistible?" He thought her that shallow? She bit back a desire to snap at him. His patience with her fears and moods had certainly earned him patience in return. "I've lived without a title quite happily, and I don't crave one now. But the legalities are complex, I think. We should talk to Uncle Stephen. He's knowledgeable about such things."

"Very well." Gavin turned back into his room. "I'll see if he's available." Not wanting to be shut out, she asked, "Would you like me to come with you?" He hesitated. "That might be a good idea. You can translate British to American thinking for me."

"I'll try, but no promises." She slipped on her shoes and made a half-hearted attempt to smooth her hair before accompanying Gavin to the duke's study. If there was bad news, she wanted to be there. Ashburton glanced up from his desk when the door opened. "Yes, my love?" His expression changed when he saw who it was. "Sorry, at this time of day Rosalind is the only one likely to come in."

"I didn't mean to disturb you." Having had time to realize how the duke might view American revulsion to the aristocracy, Gavin started to retreat. "I've something to discuss, but that can be done at another time."

"No, come in, I'm studying a proposed trade bill and it's deadly boring. Did you like the house?" It took Gavin a moment to realize what the duke was talking about. "Your house on Berkeley Square? It's very handsome. If Alex likes it, I'd be pleased to rent it."

"I know the house," Alex said, "and if it's available it would be a wonderful city home for the time being."

"Then it's yours." Ashburton studied Gavin shrewdly. "But that's not why you're here, is it? Sit down and tell me what's on your mind."

Gavin sat, Alex taking the chair next to him. "I'm told that I'm the Earl of Seabourne." Tersely he described his family situation and his visit to Seabourne House, ending with, "I want no part of this inheritance. How do I refuse it?"

Ashburton frowned. "You can't. There's a fair amount of case law on this subject, and it has always been held that the dignity of a peerage is fixed in the blood. I believe you could have disavowed the title if you'd been born in America, but since you were born in Britain, you really have no choice." Gavin muttered an oath. "What about the estate? Can I refuse that? "

"It would depend on how the estate has been settled. Any property entailed to the heir-and probably most of it is-goes with the title. There may also be unentailed funds, but they would be only a minor part of the estate."

"It seems unfair that my cousin have everything he thought was his wrenched away from him."

"Primogeniture isn't about fairness," the duke observed. "It's about preserving property and power, and on the whole it has served Britain well. The system is hard on individuals, though. If your cousin is left in dire circumstances, you can choose to make a settlement on him, but it would have to come from your personal fortune, not the entailed property. Before you do anything rash, you need to discuss your situation with an expert in this area of law."

Grasping at straws, Gavin asked, "What if I don't produce the documents that prove my identity?

Can I avoid inheriting that way?"

The duke sighed. "The cat is out of the bag, Captain. You look like an Elliott-I noticed myself and assumed you were a Seabourne connection, though I didn't guess how close the relationship is. If you'd never called at Seabourne House, changed your family name, and never talked about your parents, you could have avoided this, but now events have been set in motion that can't be stopped. Your father is well remembered, and you are revealed as your father's son: the seventh Earl of Seabourne."

"So even after all these years, my father's name is blackened?" Surprisingly, the duke said, "For those familiar with his situation, there's general agreement that your father was ill-used by both. the old earl and the navy. I knew him a little, and respected him greatly. The scandal over his marriage centered not on his choice of bride, but his father's reaction. Disowning a son who was a naval hero over a perfectly respectable marriage was considered disgraceful. Your grandfather had never been well liked, and this made him even more unpopular."

Feeling as if the world had turned upside down, Gavin said, "So it wasn't society that spurned them, only the old earl?"

"I'm sure that was bad enough from your father's point of view-such rifts can tear families apart." The Elliotts certainly had been. "What was the reaction when my father was forced to resign from the navy?"

"As other men who'd been part of the engagement returned home and began to speak up, it was recognized that your father behaved like the good officer he was." Ashburton grimaced. "There's no chance that the Admiralty would ever admit they were wrong, but for what it's worth, your father's name is still respected."

"Do you think he knew that?"

"If he kept in touch with the Elliott solicitor, he must have. My guess is that if he lived in America, it was because he preferred it to England."

Gavin fell silent as he reevaluated the past. James Elliott had carried some bitterness about his treatment in England, but he'd genuinely loved the freedom of his life in America. Perhaps his silence had been less from pain than because he simply didn't want to think about the past anymore. Perhaps it had been Gavin, not his parents, who had felt the deepest pain at leaving Britain. Alex took his hand. "You don't have to understand it all right now, Gavin. Come upstairs and relax for a while before dinner."

"I appreciate your taking the time to explain this, sir." Feeling numb, Gavin got his feet. "My reaction must seem laughable to you."

"There's a certain irony in this," the duke acknowledged. "But it's not laughable. I don't blame you for feeling oppressed by the weight of an inheritance you didn't expect and don't want." Glad for Ashburton's understanding, Gavin left the study, Alex's hand still locked in his. Alex? No, the Countess of Seabourne. God help them both.

Worried by Gavin's bleak expression, Alex turned into him and slid her arms around his neck after they entered her room. "I'm so sorry. You look as if the sky has fallen in."

"It has." He buried his face in her hair, his arms tight around her. Tension burned through him like molten steel.

She pressed closer, wishing she could absorb his distress. For the first time since they'd met, he needed her. Though she didn't like seeing him so miserable, she liked knowing she could comfort her golden, utterly competent husband. "You have reason to hate your grandfather, and it must be painful to think of bearing his title," she said softly. "But if you wish to honor your parents, isn't becoming a good earl the best possible revenge on your dreadful grandfather? "

"I suppose you're right-the old devil would surely loathe knowing that his heir is the child of the son he banished from his presence. The trouble is that I loathe it, too." After a long silence, he said, "It might be easiest to just leave Britain and never come back. Would you come with me, Alex?" She clamped down on her distress at the thought. "Of course I'd come with you-I'm your wife. But leaving wouldn't allow the earldom to pass to your cousin unless you faked your own death, and that would cause all kinds of other problems. Leaving and ignoring your obligations as Seabourne would create a monstrous tangle, and the tenants and dependents of the estate would be the ones to suffer for it."