The Earl and the Highwayman's Daughter (5 page)

“Either.” His fingers coiled around her wrist as he removed her hand. “You’re a funny one. No leeches shall attach themselves to my body.” He sighed. “Now go away.”

“I’m going. Sleep now. Sleep is healing, although there are other good measures I might apply—”

“I shall sleep when you stop your nattering.”

She hurried to the door and paused with her hand on the doorknob. His breathing grew heavy again and regular. Nodding, she slipped out and hurried back to her room. On her way, she encountered Jeremy, the friendliest of the footmen. She held her finger to her lips, and he merely nodded and grinned. He had a very dull job and no doubt found her behavior diverting.

The next day, Eugenia hovered around in the gardens near the front door. She was gratified to see the doctor leave in high dudgeon, saying to Barker that he hoped his lordship didn’t come to regret such a bad decision. “I won’t take responsibility for his demise,” the doctor said, hurrying to his curricle.

With a sigh of relief, Eugenia was about to return inside when a grand coach arrived loaded down with a trunk and bandboxes. She moved into the shadows cast by a tree and watched the footman in scarlet-and-black livery put down the step. After the door was opened, an elegant lady stepped down, followed by her maid. She wore a wide-brimmed purple hat trimmed with grey feathers, a deep violet pelisse, lemon-yellow gloves, and grey kid half boots. Eugenia stood and gaped as the woman swept inside.

“Hullo, Barker.” Her ladyship’s pleasant voice was tinged with anxiety. “How is my brother?”

“Good morning, Lady Beale. His lordship is improving I’m told, although the doctor is displeased with him.”

“But why?”

“He refused to be bled.”

“And so he should. I’ll go and see him.” She removed her pelisse, gloves, and hat, handing them all to Barker. Slightly raising the skirt of her carriage gown, which was the color of butter and embroidered with violets, she mounted the stairs.

Eugenia watched as Lady Beale went upstairs accompanied by the butler. Her firm comment reassured Eugenia. It gave her hope his lordship’s sister might have more sense than that fool of a doctor.

***

Brendan had not been able to sleep after Eugenia left. Frustrated by his weakness, he was eager to recover his robust health and quit his bed. His man of business had come at his request and had been sent off with an important task. Exhausted, Brendan lay back on the pillows.

The door opened, and his sister hurried over to him. “Brendan!” She kissed his cheek, her delicate scent enveloping him. “My dear brother. What a dreadful business. Are you in pain?”

“I am feeling a good deal better.” He eased himself up onto the pillows behind him with only a small twinge of pain.

With a warm smile, she sat beside his bed. “That is indeed good news. As you see, I have rushed to your side.” Tears hung on her lashes, but she dabbed at them with a lace handkerchief. “I was frightened for you, Brendan.”

He smiled. “I’m relieved to say that you had no need.”

“Nevertheless.” She sighed. “I’m pleased to have been invited to aid you in your recovery.” She tilted her head. “You must have been very ill indeed to invite me. You’ve never done so before. Even that time when you fell off your horse.”

She meant well, but he suspected if she did nurse him, he might not recover. “I didn’t fall off my horse. My horse fell and took me with it.”

“If you say so.” She laughed. “I am teasing. You’re a known Corinthian. Beale tells me that you hunted rabbits with Wellington in Portugal. And your race to Brighton with your matched bays when you were an impetuous youth is still spoken about.” She gave an outrageous wink. “I know how men are about their manly pursuits.”

He laughed. “You know how your husband is, Chloe. Have you brought Beale with you, by the way?”

“No. Did you wish me to bring him?”

Brendan almost shuddered at the thought of being a captive audience to his tales of fly-fishing. “No. I did not.”

“Beale goes on well. Busy with some bill or other in the Lords. He barely noticed my departure.”

Brendan chuckled. “I don’t believe that for a minute. He worships the ground you walk on.”

“Never mind about Aubrey,” she said in a brisk tone. “What can I do to make you more comfortable? Fluff your pillows?”

He raised a hand to ward her off as she bent toward him. “I am perfectly comfortable, thank you. I didn’t ask you to come here to plump my pillows or administer any kind of aid.”

She sat down again. “What then?”

“Actually, Clo, I have a different task in mind for you.”

Her blue eyes widened. “I am consumed with curiosity. Do go on.”

“I seem to have gained a ward.”

“A ward? Do you wish to raise some boy? Has getting shot addled your brains?”

“I do hope not. It’s not a boy. A young woman. Miss Hawthorne saved my life. She took me in after I was shot. She’s been living with a rogue of a father. Well, I suspect he’s not her real father.”

Her eyes grew doubtful. “I think you take gratitude too far, Brendan. You
are
behaving oddly. I confess I’ve been uneasy about you. You’ve been in a sorry state since Anne died, and although I completely understand that losing one’s spouse in that way must have been dreadful, I’ve prayed you’d recover your joy of life.” She shrugged her shoulders. “But this?”

He reached over and patted her hand. “Wait until I tell you who the father is.”

“Go on, do. Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“Mortland.”

She shrugged. “A by-blow of Mortland’s? The countryside is dotted with aristocrats’ progeny. Royals’, too, so the gossips say.” She sighed. “I know you hate the duke and quite rightly, but what do you plan to do with this Miss Hawthorne? You can’t be sure she’s his child.”

“Her step-father confirmed it. She’s Mortland’s all right. Wait until you meet her. She has the same unusual eyes. And her name is Eugenia.”

She frowned. “Eugenia? That’s Mortland’s cousin’s name, although we call her Genie. Be careful, Brendan. This girl might be trying to dupe you.” She stared at him, perplexed. “Are you attracted to this girl? Do you plan to have her as your mistress?”

“What? Must you always lack decorum, Chloe? No I do not. She is quite attractive, but very young. My intentions are pure. I just want to help her.”

“Why help Mortland’s child?” She narrowed her eyes. “There’s more to it than that. How old is this young lady?”

“Eighteen.”

“Hardly a child then. I was married and had given Aubrey his heir when not much older.” She sighed. “What do you wish me to do?”

“Turn her into a lady. Then we shall take her to London.”

She cast him a pitying glance. “A silk purse from a sow’s ear? And a bastard that society will shun! You ask too much, Brendan.”

“Just wait until you’ve seen her. Ring the bell.”

EUGENIA ENTERED the walled garden and closed the gate behind her as Molly left the ornamental pond and waddled along the pebbled pathway, eager to greet her.

William was gathering up his tools, having just made a box for the goose to sleep in, lined with straw. It looked incongruous tucked amongst the lavender, peonies, and climbing roses, and she hoped his lordship would not be annoyed. She hurried over to thank the gardener. “You are kind, William. Molly will be most grateful. I hope there’s something I can do for you in return.”

William touched his forelock. “It’s of no consequence, Miss Hawthorne.”

“Eugenia, please.”

He settled his cap on his head. “Beg pardon, Miss Hawthorne. I didn’t know you was the earl’s ward.”

He wheeled his barrow away.

Later that afternoon, Jeremy knocked at her bedchamber door. Eugenia was glad for the interruption. She was intolerably bored and had been considering a visit to the library. At home she was always busy.

The footman bowed. “Your presence is required in his lordship’s bedchamber, Miss Hawthorne.”

She grinned at the tall, handsome fellow. “My goodness, Jeremy. Am I permitted to visit him there?” He had not welcomed her company yesterday.

Jeremy smiled. “I am so instructed, Miss Hawthorne.”

“Then lead on if you please. I still get lost in this huge house.”

“How is Molly faring?” Jeremy asked as they walked to the stairs.

“Happily ridding the walled garden of slugs and snails, and a few of the plants too, regrettably. William has been very nice about it.”

Jeremy chuckled. “Here we are, Miss Hawthorne.” He straightened his shoulders and took on his footman’s mien, knocking on the door with a gloved fist.

Lady Beale sat beside Lord Trentham’s bed. Two pairs of blue eyes assessed her. Eugenia’s face grew hot, and she smoothed her skirts. “You wished to see me, my lord?”

His lordship leaned back against snowy pillows in a magnificent black silk dressing gown patterned with gold dragons. “I’d like to introduce you to my sister, Lady Beale.”

Eugenia curtseyed.

“Come here and let me look at you, my dear,” Lady Beale said.

Lady Beale’s coloring was similar to her brother, but there the resemblance ended. She was as dainty as a flower in her delphinium-blue gown.

Approaching the bed, Eugenia cast a quick assessing glance at his lordship. His color had improved, his eyes more alert. “They did not bleed you, my lord?”

He winked at his sister. “No, I bowed to your wishes, Miss Hawthorne.”

“I don’t approve of the practice in cases such as this,” Lady Beale said. “You need a new doctor, Brendan. This one is behind the times.” She rose with a rustle of skirts and placed her hands on Eugenia’s shoulders. Nervous, Eugenia tried to remain still as the lady’s bright blue eyes studied her. “My, but you are right, Brendan. No question of it. Walk around for me, Miss Hawthorne.”

Feeling rather like a prize heifer at the village market, Eugenia walked the length of the dense carpet.

“She is quite lovely, Brendan. Eugenia will be incomparable when I’ve finished with her. A mistress of royalty is not impossible.”

Eugenia spun around and stared at them. “I won’t!”

“But my dear, why not?” Lady Beale looked surprised. “Fabulous jewels, a wonderful home – socializing with the most important people in the land and part of the Prince Regent’s set. A fascinating life awaits you.”

Eugenia tried to catch his lordship’s eye, but he refused to look at her. “Can I not just stay here with Molly? I won’t bother anyone.”

“Is that one of the maids?” Lady Beale gave a tinkling laugh. “What nonsense. You can’t stay at Lilac Court forever. It’s all a bit overwhelming, though, isn’t it?” she said in a softer tone. “May I call you Eugenia?”

“Yes, my lady.”

Lady Beale took her hands and gave them a shake. “Marriage then. I’m sure that is possible when I’ve finished with you. Even without a substantial dowry, there will be some, a widower in need of children perhaps, who’d be prepared to ignore the shortcomings. Have you had a beau, my dear? I mean you haven’t…”

“Chloe!” His lordship had said little up to this point, but now he glowered and looked quite fierce.

Unsure of the question, Eugenia stared at them thunderstruck, as Lady Beale’s eyebrows lowered in a thoughtful frown. “Never mind, we shall remain equivocal on the subject. Please say you will agree to let me educate you in the ways of the
ton.
And dress you? With your face and figure, what fun that will be! Yes?”

Overwhelmed, Eugenia could only nod.

Lady Beale clapped her small hands. “I’ll send for my modiste, and we’ll begin immediately while you recuperate, Brendan. Then, when you are well again, we shall take Eugenia to London where men will fall at her feet. As you are her guardian, you must help me to instruct Eugenia in the ways of society.”

“I doubt you’ll need much from me, Clo. Eugenia is intelligent. A quick study.”

Eugenia was pleased that he thought of her in that way. Her tight shoulders eased a little. She found Lady Beale fascinating. She was pretty and kind, in an offhand sort of way, but Eugenia disliked being talked about as if she wasn’t in the room. She jutted out her chin. “I will never be a mistress to any man! Not even the king!” she added, to make sure they understood.

Lady Beale giggled. “Oh no, my dear, not the king I promise you!”

***

Eight days later, Eugenia was sitting in the walled garden, watching Molly ferreting for grubs, when the gate opened. “I see you still have that goose.”

She spun around. “Papa!”

He walked in, wearing neat but dusty clothes and holding his hat. His gaze took in the flower borders, the water feature, and the elegant windows of the conservatory. “Well, you have landed on your feet, my girl.”

“What has brought you all this way?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Aren’t you pleased to see your papa?”

“I’m glad to see you’re being cared for. Are you and Mary to marry?”

“Mary has moved into the cottage. Not as good a cook as you, but I cannot complain.”

“Mary is a good person. You are very lucky that she cares for you.” Had he changed his mind and wanted her back? A shiver went down her spine at the thought. “Why have you come to see me?”

“I didn’t come to see you, lass. I want to see his lordship.”

Her pulse throbbed. What trouble had he brought with him? “You cannot. Lord Trentham hasn’t yet recovered from his wound.”

He looked mulish. “I have some information for him.”

“What is it about? I’ll tell him.”

He scowled. “Thought he might make it worth me while.”

“Isn’t he paying you enough, Papa?”

He shrugged. “How about getting me an ale then. It’s been a bloody long trip here, and I’m as dry as a cask after harvest.”

“Tell me first.”

“You always was smart. Like your mother.” He joined her on the garden seat. “Mary don’t know how to read and write. Not like you, Eugenia. So I had to come in person. I feel some sort of payment is justified for my effort.”

“What is this information?”

“It’s about those highwaymen that shot him.”

“You don’t know them?”

“No. Not highwaymen neither.”

She stared at him. “Who could they be then?”

“Don’t know the answer to that, but strangers to the area.” Tilted his head. “I suspect they was hired to kill his lordship.”

Eugenia shivered. “Oh no! You must be wrong.”

“I reckon I’m right. If I can’t see him, you’ll have to warn him, Eugenia. Don’t want anything to happen to him.”

Of course he wouldn’t. It would put an end to his stipend. She felt guilty for being mean; after all, he had come a long way. “I will, Papa, I promise. As soon as his lordship’s well enough.” She walked to the gate. “You wait here. I’ll nip into the kitchen and get your ale and a snack. I shan’t be long.”

“You’re a good girl.” He stretched out his legs and raised his face to the sun. “Could get used to this.”

As she opened the gate, she turned to him. “And don’t think about taking Molly home. You touch her and I’ll see to it you don’t get another penny.”

He scowled at her and jammed on his hat. “You don’t trust your old papa.”

She hurried into the kitchen praying the chef wasn’t there, and fortunately, he wasn’t.

After her papa had eaten a ham sandwich and drunk two ales, he left for Woodland Farm on his borrowed horse. Eugenia knocked on Lord Trentham’s bedchamber door.

“Come.”

His lordship sat by the fire reading in the silk robe with the fearsome dragons, his hair appealingly tousled. He raised his dark brows. “Eugenia. I thought I made it clear you were not to come to my bedchamber.”

“I didn’t forget. But my papa has just been here. He brought news.”

“Pardon me if I don’t invite you to sit down. You will not be here long enough. What possible news would bring him all the way here?”

“It was kind of him, my lord.”

“Nothing your papa does suits anyone but him. Tell me quickly.”

She explained about the highwaymen. “Papa is certain they came into the area from somewhere far away.”

He stroked his chin. “I see.”

“He thought you should know.”

“Thank you, Eugenia. I’ll have an additional payment sent to your papa for the trip. But I don’t see that it’s of any interest.”

His cool manner revealed no alarm or even surprise at the news. “It’s not?”

“No. A rival gang setting up, perhaps, and putting your father’s nose out of joint.”

Eugenia frowned. She’d been unaware that he knew of her father’s occupation. But his lordship was so smart she should have realized it. “I don’t think so. Papa said he would never work so close to home.”

“And do you believe him?”

“Yes, I do, my lord. He would not bring trouble down upon our village.” She clasped her hands. “You must heed the warning.” She studied him with a frown. “You will take care?”

“You are not to concern yourself with me, Miss Hawthorne. I insist on it.”

She studied his face, noting the dark shadows beneath his fine blue eyes. “Not concern myself? But of course I do. You have been wounded and you are not yet well.”

“I don’t believe the situation warrants such attention, but I am grateful.” A smile tugged his lips. “I’m well enough. I plan to come downstairs tomorrow.”

She gasped with relief. “That is good news.”

“Do you get on well with Lady Beale?”

She caught her bottom lip in her teeth. “Yes. I am very grateful for her instruction.” Lady Beale was merciless in her quest to turn Eugenia into a well-mannered lady. She never grew impatient or cross, but somehow she made Eugenia want to please her.

“There’s little my sister doesn’t know about how to go on in society,” he said, a knowledgeable glint in his blue eyes.

“I’m eager to learn, my lord.”

“Good. I look forward to joining you both at dinner tomorrow evening. Go now, Eugenia, and thank you for imparting that information.”

She slipped from the room. Was there speculation in his eyes? Who were those men?