The Sanctuary (A Spencer Novel) (25 page)

Chapter 46

Clairece woke as a warm little body snuggled in between Anthony and her, and a much larger one, smelling of dog, landed on the foot of the bed.

Tiny fingers played at her lashes. Clairece opened her eyes wide and laid a finger against her lips.

“Is Papa dead?” Sophie whispered, her bottom lip trembling.

“No, sweetheart, he’s sleeping.”

“I heard Nanny Jinks tell one of the maids Papa might die.”

“She was mistaken.” Clairece brushed Sophie’s riotous curls behind her ears. “Your father had an accident, but he is brave and strong and will be up and around before you know it. Come, sweetheart, I’ll walk you back to the nursery.”

Later, Clairece entered the bathing chamber to find Anthony dressed and attempting to shave.

“You’re up.” She stated the obvious.

“Sophie is to join the adults for breakfast this morning. I want to be there to greet her.”

Clairece pulled the cord to summon her maid. “I’ll meet you downstairs.” Since Anthony’s aunts’ preferred their hot chocolate and toast in their rooms of a morning, she would be the one to teach Sophie how to comport herself around adults.

During breakfast, the capricious Sophie chatted with the gentlemen placed on either side of her, carrying on an amazingly adult conversation with Jason. Much to Clairece’s chagrin, Sophie also possessed a distinct ability to flirt, outrageously plying her charms on Dr. Farris who sat directly across from the little minx.

Farris winked.

Sophie giggled and winked back.

Anthony would have his hands full when his daughter came of age. From the expression on his face, he realized it as well.

With Jeremy Stallings, Sophie remained somewhat aloof. The man’s sheer size would intimidate most children, though Sophie showed not the first sign of fear around him.

Sophie’s reaction to
Don
Philippe both surprised and confused Clairece. The imp sent little covert glances in his direction, but made no attempt to engage Philippe in conversation.

Then she placed the remaining berry tart on her napkin and scooted off her chair, moving carefully around the table to stand at Philippe’s side.

“It’s the last one.” She held the offering out to Philippe. “Raspberry is my favorite.”

“Mine also,
niña.
” Philippe accepted the proffered gift, napkin and all, and placed it on the table between them. “Perhaps we could share?”

Sophie nodded, showing every indication of climbing up on Philippe’s lap. Clairece started to raise her hand, but was stopped with an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Clairece settled back as Philippe lifted Sophie onto his knee.

“Would you care to cut the pastry in half?” Philippe asked.

“You should do it. Nanny Jinks says I always make a mess.” Sophie dropped her gaze to her hands.

Clairece made a mental note to speak to Nanny Jinks.

“We are all a little messy at first,
niña
, until we have learned the proper way to do something.” Philippe retrieved his knife and laid it in the little girl’s palm. He covered her hand with his. “The secret is to go slowly. It will not take flight if you do.”

Sophie giggled.

Philippe accepted his piece of the tartlet and took a bite. “It is truly delicious.
Gracias
.”

The child beamed.

A footman crossed the room to speak in hushed tones to Hodges. The butler sent the footman away and stated, “My lord, it appears a large traveling coach, followed by two smaller conveyances and a succession of vehicles loaded with trunks and boxes, approaches the Hall. The largest of the coaches bears the Windsford crest.”

Chapter 47

Squealing joyfully, Clairece sprang to her feet. “They’re here, my parents are here.”

“More like the whole clan, from the sound of it.” Anthony grinned, gaining his feet. “Shall we go and meet them?”

With Anthony and Clairece leading the way, they all filed out onto the front steps.

Clairece gripped Anthony’s hand and whispered, “My family does not know we’re married.”

He squeezed back. “Let us hope they consider it a happy surprise.”

A window in the lead carriage lowered and the head and shoulders of a woman appeared, arm gesturing madly.

“Mother,” Clairece screeched, waving frantically.

Anthony flinched and rubbed his ear. “You need to warn me, love, before you do that.”

The first of the carriages arrived under the portico. A footman opened the door and let down the steps. A man of medium height and brown hair, showing a touch of gray at the temples, stepped down. His warm, brown eyes sparkled and a broad smile creased his face as he peered at Clairece.

At first glance, Anthony would have considered the man’s appearance ordinary. Then he smiled and his entire countenance filled with vitality and enthusiasm. Anthony observed the smile accompanying the slight chin gesture and knew he was seeing Clairece’s father.

Muscles bulged in the man’s legs. Anthony was reminded of James’ description, ‘a man hard as nails.
’
Apparently, it was more than a figure of speech.

Clairece gave another little screech and flew forward, flinging herself into the man’s outstretched arms. Her father’s laugh echoed in the chill morning air.

A woman appeared next. Slim and elegant, her glistening blond hair pulled back in a chignon, she had the peaches and cream complexion so many English ladies desired and tried to emulate. Blue eyes searched the group, centering on Clairece.

“Joel, come help me down. I wish to hold my daughter.”

Anthony could see Clairece reflected in the lovely features. He strode forward and offered his hand. “Ma’am?”

Stepping down, she uttered a soft, “Thank you,” before moving to embrace Clairece. The woman held her daughter at arms’ length, and smiled. “For all you’ve been through, I must say you look radiant.”

Another man exited the carriage, unfolding his large frame as he did. Tall, lean, and deeply tanned, he possessed an air of authority which bespoke years of command. His crystal-blue gaze surveyed the scene around him, clearly noting all those present before coming to rest on Philippe. The man gave a short nod, which Philippe returned.

Under normal circumstances, Anthony would never stop to consider whether another man was handsome or not, only if he would make a formidable opponent. This man was both. Adrian Spencer, Earl of Windsford, was everything Anthony had been led to believe, and more. An imposing figure, Windsford moved with an easy grace not common for a man his size. Morning light caught the pale streaks in his otherwise flaxen hair.

A strong homogeneity obviously ran through the Spencer family. Anthony had a quick image of how his and Clairece’s children might look. Meeting Windford’s intense regard, Anthony was surprised to see the man’s eyes narrow.

Adrian Spencer may be many things, some of them fearsome, but he obviously cared deeply for his family. The need to protect them showed in every fiber of his being.

Clairece slid her arms around her uncle’s waist in an affectionate hug. “Did Aunt Angeline come with you?” She looked past him toward the coach.

“Angeline remained at the ranch with Elaina. She was concerned bringing a toddler on such an arduous trip would be dangerous. She sent her love.”

Clairece smiled. “I understand.”

Adrian cupped Clairece’s face in his hands and scrutinized her features. “The bruising is all but gone, but I’ll warrant the fear still remains.” He brushed his thumbs across her cheeks. “James was right to summon us. Rest assured, whoever is responsible will pay for this.” He kissed her forehead and released her.

Her father glanced toward the group gathered on the front steps. “James told us you were under the protection of a gentleman, an earl. I would like to thank him personally for his help.”

Clairece claimed Anthony’s hand, a gesture which did not go unnoticed by the members of her family. “Mama, Papa, may I present Anthony Wade, the Earl of Harding? Anthony, these are my parents, Joel and Virginia Harris.” She turned him to face the remaining member.

During the appropriate introduction, made in the correct order, two grown men made their proper replies and eyed each other in a very male, improper fashion. Clairece offered her brightest smile and added, “Anthony and I were married after we arrived in Bristol.”

Her father looked Anthony over. “I see we have quite a bit to talk about.”

Her mother hugged her and smiled, but her effort was wasted when she bit her lip and said nothing.

Visibly stiffening, a muscle in her uncle’s jaw flexed. “We can discuss all of this once we’re inside and in private.”

Clairece placed her hand on Anthony’s arm and he covered her fingers in a proprietary gesture. “As you say, we have much to discuss.”

With a jingle of harness, the second carriage pulled under the portico to dislodge its passengers. James’ face appeared at the window and Clairece gave a sigh of relief.

The door swung open and James stepped down. In two long strides she was enveloped in a strong embrace. His breath fanned her cheek as he murmured, “Have a care, Ree. The next few minutes will be difficult, but I promise it will be all right.” He released her and stepped back, but remained at her side.

Clairece felt the first stirrings of unease.

Phillip Michael emerged and turned to help a young woman alight from the coach. In a gray traveling dress, with matching pelisse and bonnet, the woman appeared to be a nanny.

Clairece’s father moved to the door of the carriage and reached inside. When he turned to face her, he held a little girl dressed in cherry-red wool.

She gaped at the child, who possessed eyes so like her own. Beneath the red bonnet, Clairece caught glimpses of pale-blond ringlets. As premonition took hold, she rubbed her temples and met her father’s tender gaze.

Through a gathering fog, she heard James whisper, “Steady, Ree.” Her chest tightened and her body flushed with heat. A feeling, so intense she could hardly breathe, enveloped her.

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

Clairece covered her mouth with numbed fingers as a footman carried a miniature wheeled-chair from the back of the coach to set before her father. He lowered his bundle into the conveyance and stepped to the side.

Trembling, she hunkered down beside the chair and forced the words past lips gone suddenly numb, “What is your name, sweetheart?”

“Miranda Elizabeth. I don’t have a proper last name,” the child replied.

Vision narrowing, Clairece wobbled. Anthony appeared at her side, a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

The child pursed tiny rosebud lips and stared at her. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Clairece and I . . .” She faltered, then glanced at her father, who nodded. “I am your mother.”

Miranda gave a whoop. “I knew it. My old nanny said one day you would come for me. I waited and waited, and finally you have.” Dimples materialized in her pale cheeks.

“Oh, darling, we would have come much sooner had I known where to find you.” She took Miranda’s mitten-covered hands in hers and kissed each one in turn. Anthony squeezed Clairece’s shoulder, and she smiled up at him.

Miranda’s gaze followed the interchange. “Are you my papa?”

Before Clairece could respond, Anthony scooped the child up in his arms. “I would like to be, if it’s all right with you?”

The little girl bobbed her head.

Sophie tugged on Anthony’s coat. “Is she my sister?”

Anthony looked from one child to the other. “Yes, she is. I now have two beautiful little girls to love.” Anthony glanced at Clairece. “Correction, I now have three beautiful ladies to treasure.”

“Please, put my sister in her chair so I may see her,” Sophie pleaded.

“In a moment, poppet.” Anthony placed Miranda in Clairece’s arms. They closed tightly around the daughter she never thought to hold and she began kissing the child’s face, from forehead to dimpled cheeks. At the feel of a childish embrace, small hands clasping her neck, Clairece began to cry. Finally, she released her daughter to Anthony and he lowered Miranda into her miniature chair.

Sophie swooped in. “I’ve always wanted a sister. How old are you?”

“Six,” came the shy reply.

“So am I!” Sophie bounced. “We’ll be the best of friends, as well as sisters. I shall call you Mira. It’s much easier. My room is large and we can share it. There’s lots of toys and books, just oodles of things to play with and”—she took a deep breath—“if you don’t have a dolly of your own, you can have mine, but I know Papa will get one just for you.” Sophie twirled in a circle. “It will be wonderful, you’ll see, and you will have a proper name and a proper family and we shall all be so happy and—”

“I would like that above all things,” Mira inserted, ending Sophie’s recitation.

“Mr. Hodges,” Sophie smiled up at the butler. “Would you please ask some footmen to take Mira’s things upstairs to my—to our—room?”

Hodges looked to Clairece. “My lady?”

“Please. The girls can get better acquainted. I’ll be up shortly.” Clairece turned to the young woman dressed in grey. “Are you Miranda’s nanny?”

“Yes, my lady. My name is Emma Baker. I was with Miranda in Philadelphia. Your mother thought it best to have someone familiar accompany the child.”

“Philadelphia?” Clairece closed her eyes. “Yes, of course.”
So close all this time
. She swayed, and Anthony slid a supporting arm around her waist.

“Will you lead the way, Miss Sophie?” Emma patted Miranda’s shoulder reassuringly.

Sophie studied the chair. “Can you walk, Mira?”

“I can, but I’m not supposed to. My old nurse said it wasn’t good for me.”

“Well, that’s all right. MacDougal or William can carry you upstairs. They’re both strong.” Sophie grinned at one of the footmen.

Thomas MacDougal stepped forward. “Yes, miss. I’ll gladly tote the wee lass to the nursery.”

As the group departed, Clairece caught Dr. Farris’ eye. With a slight nod of acknowledgement, he followed the small entourage up the stairs.

She whirled to face her parents. “How could Roger do such a thing? Why would he keep my child from me?”