The spinster and the wastrel (19 page)

"Me, too, sir."

"He is the boy for whom I hoped you would be able to find a position," Annette explained.

Understanding, Sir Gerard glanced at her. "Another request, Miss Courtney?"

"A repeat of one," she reminded him.

He nodded to Jack. "I hear you are a good student."

"Miss Courtney makes me try to be one, sir."

"Miss Courtney makes people do a lot of things they had not originally intended," Sir Gerard commented. "In this instance, she is correct. A lad with your courage deserves a chance. Perhaps my steward could use a bright helper."

The boy tried not to squirm under the praise. "Thank you, sir. It means a lot to me." He vigorously shook the baronet's hand, not understanding the fixed grimace on Sir Gerard's face when he did so.

"Go on home, Jack, but be careful. Those men are probably long gone, but they could still be lurking about,"

Annette said. 'Tell your folks about being the steward's clerk. They will be very proud of you."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, sir." Whistling cheerfully, Jack swaggered back down the lane.

Annette picked up the reins and started her horse forward. "You should have told me Wallace still demanded more money."

"None of my requests for the money succeeded, and you had already paid one installment on my loan. A man wants to retain some pride."

Letting the horse walk at its own pace, she could not keep her gaze from straying towards Sir Gerard. He lay back as much as one could in such a small carriage. His hands rested on his legs. Mud covered him everywhere. The sleeve to his wool coat was torn, and the bruising was darkening his face. Her heart squeezed with sympathy to see such a man so hurt.

"I guess I did not fully understand the threat," she said softly. "Will they be back?"

He shifted in an effort to find a more comfortable position, causing the whole carriage to sway. "I doubt it, but I will visit the magistrate. A letter to Wallace warning of the danger of a repeat attack would not come amiss, either."

The carriage hit a rut, and Sir Gerard groaned at the jouncing.

"I apologize for that," she said. "I will try to go slower, but I need to get you home to care."

"Do not worry about me," he replied. "I will recover just fine."

She wondered if her heart would recover. She never expected to fall in love—and certainly not with such a man. Now she wished she had not refused his proposal. But in the unlikely event, he offered again, could she accept?

She loved him.

He did not love her.

She had always prided herself upon her talent to manage any problem, but never had she faced a situation like this one. She would give anything to protect him from any further threat. He needed her, and she would use all her abilities to help him. When the carriage reached the front entrance of Hathaway Hall, she knew what she must do.

The manor servants were in an uproar. Silver Shadow had galloped back to the stable, agitated and lathered. A search party was in the process of being organized when the landau pulled up to the front door. A hot bath was ordered, and the baronet placed under the anxious care of his servants. Once she saw that his needs were being met, she turned the landau towards Upper Brampton village.

At the solicitor's office, she said, "I want to give the money to Sir Gerard."

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Sir Gerard was stunned by the news the solicitor had brought yesterday afternoon. Apparently out of the blue, Annette was returning his fortune to him.

"But why?" he had asked the solicitor.

Mr. Keller shrugged his shoulders in helpless ignorance.

Only Annette could tell him the reason.

So here he stood on her doorstep. He knew he did not present his usual elegant appearance for calling. The shaving glass that morning still reflected the purpling of his face. It was starting to yellow at the edges of the bruises. At least this time when she saw him, his clothes would not be torn and covered in mud. He would have been much worse off, if not for her. His mouth tightened grimly at the memory.

Yesterday afternoon, in addition to the solicitor, the magistrate had called at Sir Gerard's request. The baronet hoped to make life very difficult for one Mortimer Wallace. And now he had the funds to do so.

But first he needed to speak with Annette.

Her maid ushered him into the simply furnished draw-

ing room. Annette and her companion were sewing. He noticed Mrs. Downes whisked hers out of sight under a pillow, while Annette displayed no such signs of embarrassment at the plain sewing she worked upon. She greeted him and sent for tea.

Seating himself on the proffered chair, Sir Gerard gazed at the woman he had once hated, then admired, and finally proposed to. She sat erect, with her needle passing in and out of the muslin. For the first time, a spinster's cap now rested on her soft brown hair. It declared her social status as permanently set upon the shelf, and it saddened him. He liked her—a great deal.

"What are you working on?" he asked.

In her forthright manner, she replied, "This is a shirt for the church to distribute to the poor."

"You are always busy for others," he said. "You have a generous spirit."

"Thank you, sir."

Mrs. Downes offered him a cup of tea and the plate of cakes, and he selected one. He did not know how to broach the topic that most concerned him. None of his London manners had prepared him for such a situation. So he decided to take a page from Annette's own book and be direct.

"I had a most interesting call yesterday," he commented.

"Who was it?" Mrs. Downes asked.

Taking a sip of his tea, he noticed the rhythm of Annette's sewing barely slowed. "Mr. Keller, the solicitor. He brought me some very unusual news." Neither woman said anything. What he was about to say was surely not a surprise to them. "I have gained control of my uncle's money. What I wonder is why?"

Mrs. Downes looked at Annette, who took several more stitches before saying, "You must be very pleased to have obtained that which you have sought for so long."

"Yes, I am," he said. "But why now?"

"It was only justice that it should go with the estate it should serve."

"I will not deny that I am glad to have it. Nor do I have a quarrel with the trust set up to maintain the school. It is a good charity."

Annette set down her sewing, a look of relief spreading over her face. "I feared you might begrudge that money. Is that not why you called?"

Surprise filled him. "Begrudge that well-run school?" He winked at her. "Never! It produces such excellent students as the lad who will now be assisting my steward."

She smiled. "That is an excellent position for Jack."

"He earned it." Sir Gerard set down his teacup and leaned forward. "Miss Courtney, I could never resent your school. It is too important to you, and you are doing such good work. I only wonder that it can function on the small sum you requested."

"I did not wish to be greedy."

"Your generous nature could never be considered greedy. I will increase the endowment. Prices are going up all the time."

"It is you who are generous." Her approving gaze rested upon him, and he felt like he had just been knighted.

Perhaps a marriage between them based upon feelings of affection could have worked. He would never know. Spotting the white cap on her head, a twinge of sadness nipped at his heart.

To banish it, he said, "You also kept none of the money for yourself."

"What?" Mrs. Downes sputtered and set her cup down with a loud rattle. Plainly, this news surprised her. "Annette, you didn't!"

"It was not mine to keep," Annette answered.

"My uncle willed it all to you. The money was yours for whatever you wished."

She shook her head. "I learned Sir Nigel only bequeathed the fortune to me in order to spite you. I could no longer be a party to such cruelty."

A strong emotion flared in her eyes, but her gaze returned to her sewing too quickly for him to analyze it. Still, that glimpse into her soul shook him. There was more here to restoring his fortune than simple charity. What emotion had he spotted?

"You need an income to support yourself," he argued. "I intend to set up an annuity for you."

"You are not obliged to do so," she said. "All the money is yours to spend."

"The money you kept is to fund the school," he pointed out. "There is nothing held back for yourself."

"I regard that differently. I often requested the funds from Sir Nigel to start the school, but he always refused me."

He pursed his lips. "You are not above a little revenge, I see."

A darker shade of red crept up her cheeks, causing him to smile at her humanness. "The children need an education so badly," she said.

"They will receive one with you managing, and my uncle pays for it in the end. The annuity will prevent you from struggling to survive." He thought he was beginning

to understand why she had returned the money. His uncle's spite had recoiled upon his wishes. Refusing to support the old miser's plans, she funded the school and returned the money. If she kept an annuity, it would mean doing what Sir Nigel had planned. Sir Gerard sought to reassure her. "The annuity is my gift for you. You can use it to fund any charities you want."

"Oh, Annette," Mrs. Downes interjected. "It could be so helpful. Must we return to our former way of life?"

Annette's face softened when she looked at her companion.

Sir Gerard pressed his advantage. "As you well know, an annuity for you would be no burden upon the estate." He added the clincher. "You cannot deny your companion an easier life."

Quietly to herself, Annette said, "I need to be fair to Lucille, too." She turned to him. "I will not refuse an annuity from you. Your generosity is most welcome."

Satisfied he had learned what he wanted to know, Sir Gerard leaned back in his chair to drink his tea and enjoy the remainder of the call. "Now that that is settled, I have some news for you. I am planning to head for London in the next couple of days."

Annette's stitching stilled. "London? I thought you were going to stay in Upper Brampton."

"Of course I will be visiting here, but the Season will start in a few weeks. I intend to enjoy it this year."

Dismay filled her face, and she crumpled her sewing between her hands. "But what about your plans for your tenants? You talked of redoing the cottages."

He smiled. Her concern for others was one of the traits he liked best about her. "I do not need to be here to build

them with my own two hands. Carpenters are quite capable."

"But someone needs to oversee them."

"Surely my steward will be quite capable as well. After all, he now has a smart lad to assist him." He winked at her, but no answering sparkle responded from Annette.

She frowned at him. "No steward can replace the eye of the owner. You should be here."

Under her disapproval, he shifted. The upholstered chair was no longer comfortable. "I will be back. Certainly you did not expect me to bury myself here in Upper Brampton forever."

Her gaze did not waver. "No, some trips to London are to be expected. I only fear an absentee landlord. When he is gone, he can easily forget those who depend upon him so heavily."

Her distrust upset him. "I will not forget them." He set his teacup down on the table with such strength that it clattered on the saucer. "Even if I did, I am sure letters from you would arrive reminding me."

"If necessary, I will follow your suggestion and send those messages." He heard the implied threat in her tone.

The cakes and tea no longer tasted sweet to him. Everything was soured. What had happened to his bright outlook? He stood. "Thank you for the tea and the words of advice. I must leave now to prepare for my trip."

"When shall we expect you to be back?" she asked.

Annoyed, he bit off the words of his answer. "The Season lasts into June. I expect to enjoy every minute of it. Then, if I am invited to a house party, I intend to go. Does my schedule meet with your approval, Miss Courtney?"

Very calmly, she replied, "I only wondered when we might see you again."

"I shall be certain to call upon you when I return." He bowed to her formally, nodded farewell to Mrs. Downes, and strode from the room.

Outside, he clamped his hat onto his head with more force than necessary. Yanking Silver Shadow's reins free from the fence, he mounted and headed for home.

"That woman could drive a saint to drink," he told the horse.

For the first time, he had some sympathy for his uncle. No wonder Sir Nigel would avoid seeing Annette. Right now, he did not want to meet her again, either. She had no authority to approve or disapprove his plans. Who did she think she was? Calling him an absentee landlord in such a disdainful tone of voice. Those cottages would be built. He would keep that promise. He would prove everyone's judgment about him wrong.

Sir Gerard nudged Silver Shadow's sides, urging him to a greater speed. He could not wait to reach London and revel in its every pastime of pleasure.

The sound of retreating hoofbeats resonated in the very quiet drawing room. Annette heard them fade, and wondered how she could have so misjudged him. He seemed to prove himself a wastrel at every opportunity. Where was the man she saw beneath the social facade? Where was the man from the fire who cared about his tenants? The one who offered Jack a chance? Where had he gone?

Lucille's whisper broke the strained silence.

"I'm so sorry."

"There is no need to be." Annette picked up her crumpled sewing from her lap. Her hands trembled so, she hid them under the fabric. "I have nothing to regret."

She only wished that statement was true. She regretted lots of things. Chief among them was that Sir Gerard was not the man she wanted him to be. Yet, she did not regret her love. No, she told herself fiercely, love should never be a cause for regret. Pasting a broad smile on her face, she said, "I am certain he will have a wonderful time in London."

"He belongs here!" Lucille declared with more intensity than was her wont. "With you."