Thornbrook Park (12 page)

Sophia looked up suddenly, her eyes darting to Marcus and back to Eve as if she'd only just considered that the two of them might have connected in a way that Marcus had yet to explain to her sister.

“I don't mind that you're late, of course.” Sophia shrugged unconvincingly. Everyone seated knew that she minded. “But if not the train, what kept you?”

Marcus hesitated. The opportunity presented itself. He might as well jump in with both feet. “I was seeing my charge settled in the room next to mine.”

“Your charge?” Gabriel's brow knit.

Eve reached for his hand under the table. How like her to know that he could use some support. “My ward. The young man in my care. I've brought him to Thornbrook Park.”

“Why the devil would you do such a thing?” Gabriel demanded. “You couldn't leave your by-blows in town with a nursemaid?”

To his surprise, Marcus found himself more amused than angry, no sign of an impending rage. “Brandon Cooper is not my by-blow, Brother. And how indelicate of you to suggest such a thing in front of the ladies.”

Gabriel had the sense to look discomfited.

“You were at war with his father.” Waving her fork as if conducting a spell with a wand, Agatha suddenly joined the conversation. “I sense his spirit around you.”

Marcus nodded. “Yes, I was. William Cooper, Brandon's father, had the grave misfortune of setting off a bomb that he was in the process of handing over to me to dismantle. He died bravely, with me at his side. How could I help but seek his widow out when I got home and take some responsibility for the family? Brandon has two sisters and a brother at home with his mother.”

“And you mean to provide for them?” Gabriel leaned back in his chair. “The whole family?”

“I do what I can for them. When Brandon seemed to keep getting into trouble, falling in with a bad crowd, I decided it was time to get him out of London.”

“And do what with the young ruffian? Bring him here to rob us blind?” Gabriel's fist pounded the table, startling Sophia and nearly toppling his claret.

“Brandon's not a thief. He's a good lad in need of some responsibility. I was hoping to put him to work at Tilly Meadow Farm.”

“Oh,” Sophia mused. “Yes. It seems like a timely suggestion. There's plenty for a young man to do on the farm, and I'm certain Mrs. Dennehy could use the help. She's getting on in years. How old is the boy?”

“Fourteen,” Marcus said. “Stout for his age, good with his hands. I hope to ride out and speak to Mrs. Dennehy about it tomorrow.”

“Make it Thursday,” Gabriel demanded. “The boy should be comfortable enough here at Thornbrook Park in the meantime. I'll ride out with you. She might be more receptive if the request comes from me. She hasn't seen you in years. My schedule is set for tomorrow, but I was planning on heading out there Thursday morning anyway.”

“All right,” Marcus agreed. “Thursday it is.”

He could look forward to the pleasure of spending a morning with his brother on Thursday, but all things considered, his proposal to bring Brandon to Tilly Meadow had been accepted much more easily than he'd anticipated. He looked over to Eve as she raised her glass and had the distinct impression that she raised it specifically for him, a toast to his success. And again there was that odd tingle in his veins.

***

Eve kept her seat, reluctant to take note when Sophia suggested they pass through to the drawing room and leave the men to their brandy. It seemed ill-advised to leave the brothers alone together when they were barely getting along.

Or maybe her tense nerves made it all seem worse than it was. Every time Marcus shifted in his seat, she jumped a little in her own. She couldn't even watch his hands move without remembering them stroking her cheek or wrapped around her waist, directing her body in how to move in the ring. Perhaps it was best she followed Sophia away from him. But as soon as they were all in the drawing room, she found herself staring at the dining room's double doors, willing them to open and for Marcus to come through and take a seat next to her.

Sophia took the seat instead. “So tell us about London. Was your business a success?”

“Not exactly.” A dull ache throbbed between her temples. She didn't feel like talking about London, certainly not about business. She picked up a book from the table next to her, hoping that Sophia might think she intended to read instead of talk, but Sophia perched eagerly on the edge of her chair. “My husband's solicitor has gone missing,” Eve offered.

“Missing?” Sophia would not be deterred, especially with the introduction of a mystery.

“His wife claims he ran off to India, which suits my needs, I suppose. Ben invested our money in a diamond mine there. Perhaps Mr. Strump simply went to investigate or withdraw my funds.” She tried to pass it off as nothing, but the dull ache became a sharper pain. “Sutton took good care of us, though. We had a fine meal at Averford House.”

“We? Of course. You and Marcus were there together.” Sophia's eyes flashed with something like concern. “Did you see much of him?”

“We talked a bit over dinner, and Brandon was with us.”

“Yes, the boy. What a surprise. No wonder Marcus has been reluctant to leave London these past few years.” Sophia smiled, clearly relieved to find that they were chaperoned. “I hope you spoke of Alice. A little nudge in the right direction?”

“We did speak of her,” Eve said, feeling her face color a little. They'd spoken of her, but she would never be able to repeat what was said.

“And, let me guess, you spoke of books. You probably bored each other to tears exchanging quotes and reviews all night long.”

“No tears, but I think he caught me yawning once.”

“A wonder he didn't bring the boy to dinner tonight. The poor thing must be bored and hungry. I'm eager to meet him.”

“I think he's acclimating. No need to rush things. Mr. Finch was instructed to bring him a tray.”

“I must tell Marcus to bring him to dinner tomorrow. No need to keep him hidden away, now that we all know of him.”

At the piano, Alice began to play, with Agatha seated beside her to turn pages. Eve was grateful for the interruption to their conversation, and even more grateful when Alice hit a series of bad notes, causing Sophia to flee to her sister's side.

“Dearest, no. Beethoven sets such a somber tone. Let's keep it light, shall we?” Sophia started leafing through the sheet music. “Here's one.”

“‘Bright Silver Star of Love'? A show tune?”

“Why not? We need a little fun. And if you feel like it, sing along.”

“You want me to sing?” Alice paused, hands above the keys.

“It doesn't hurt to show off a little.”

Alice rolled her eyes. “You sound like Mother.”

Sophia ignored her and had started back across the room when the gentlemen made their appearance. “Marcus, thank goodness you're here. Alice was just about to sing for us, but she needs a male accompaniment.”

“I believe Gabriel is your man when it comes to singing. I'm not quite in voice tonight.” Marcus met Eve's gaze and headed in her direction.

“Nonsense. Gabriel doesn't have the spirit for show tunes. Do you, darling?”

“I believe I could pull it off.” As if accepting a challenge, Gabriel approached the instrument, surprising Sophia and Eve as well. How dare anyone suggest that the earl couldn't manage something as well as his brother?

“May I sit, or will I distract you from your reading?” Marcus gestured at the book she held in her lap but had almost forgotten. “Romantic poets? A good choice. I like a little Byron before bed.”

She hadn't even realized what book she held until he mentioned it. “Byron's suitable, but I'm more inclined to Shelley.”

“Partial to rebels and upstarts, are you?” He arched a brow. “‘She walks in beauty, like the night.' I don't think your man Shelley can top that for opening lines.”

“‘The golden gates of Sleep unbar where Strength and Beauty, met together.'” She smiled at him. “I think Byron has been topped. One man admires beauty. The other seeks to find his equal.”

“Perhaps you're right. I can see how finding one's equal would appeal.” He held her gaze.

Her heart raced. They couldn't pursue a flirtation in the drawing room, in front of everyone. Her mind flew back to what Lucy had said about the maids noticing how well they looked together. Would Sophia notice, too? Would she be cross with Eve for stealing Marcus's attentions? Alienating her one friend was not a risk that she could afford to take, not now that her financial stability seemed dubious at best.

“Byron could have been writing of Sophia, our raven-tressed beauty.” She raised her voice to prove that they weren't having a private conversation. “Don't you think?”

“I have a preference for blondes,” he said, leaning in.

“I heard my name,” Sophia turned. “What's this you're saying about me?”

“‘She Walks in Beauty,' the Byron poem?” Eve held up the book. “We think it could have been written about you.”

“Flatterers!” She accused with a laugh. “What a silly suggestion.”

“Enough of poems.” Gabriel cleared his throat. “You've asked us to sing. Kindly pay attention to our performance.”

“You're ready?” Sophia turned back to the piano. “Such a treat! I'm sure we're all looking forward to it. Agatha, come sit by me.”

Agatha, who had been roaming the room since Gabriel sat down with Alice at the piano, did as instructed. Marcus took a seat in turn, right by Eve on the sofa.

The performance began. Only a few notes in, Marcus reached for Eve's hand and held it discreetly, barely hidden by the volume of her skirt.

The tension between brothers had been simmering just beneath the surface ever since Marcus's arrival. He felt it, visceral, a pain throbbing just behind his eyes, threatening to build to explosion. But he couldn't let it. Gabriel had been surprisingly accepting about Brandon. It was a start. Marcus couldn't afford to lose his temper and alienate his brother now that Gabriel had offered to help him. Just as he'd started to feel his attitude soften a bit toward his brother, George, the footman acting as Marcus's valet, showed up with a summons to Gabriel's office on his breakfast tray.

“Important matter to discuss?” Marcus read the note and tossed it aside. “I hope he hasn't changed his mind about Brandon. George, you'd better pack a few things for me, just in case.”

“In case of what, sir?”

“A hasty exit, of course.” Marcus laughed. “A private meeting with my brother can only come to no good. I might have to make a run for it back to London.”

“He seemed in good spirits this morning, if it helps any, sir. I happened to be delivering the freshly pressed newspaper to the breakfast table when he came in whistling a tune.”

“Whistling a tune? I didn't think Gabriel knew how to whistle, unless it was just to call his dogs out for the hunt. For that matter, I hadn't imagined he knew any tunes until last night.” Gabriel had given a capable performance with Alice, though Marcus had barely paid attention. He'd been too busy fighting off the urge to kiss Eve Kendal.

“I think it was ‘Blow the Man Down,' sir. Though I could be mistaken.”

“Huh. Perhaps the old man finally stayed a whole night in his wife's bed. Or she in his.”

“Lady Averford came down to breakfast today as well. She doesn't very much of the time, preferring a tray in her room. She did look rosy-cheeked, if I may say. But then, she always does.”

“Ah, yes, you're not immune to my sister-in-law's charms.”

George blushed in response.

“Don't worry, man. I won't expose you as an admirer. She's a beautiful woman. Most men can't help but notice. I've noticed. Fortunately, she's not my type. Any word on Mrs. Kendal?”

“She wasn't at breakfast. I believe she had a tray sent up.”

“Ah, well. I guess I can't put it off any longer. Fetch my coat, George. The black one. I've an appointment with the earl.”

Once dressed, he took deep, soothing breaths as he walked, trying to picture the seaside or a sunset or any of a number of comforting images, but all that came to mind was the sight of himself stripped down in the ring, delivering a solid right jab to his opponent, an opponent who looked remarkably like his brother. Though, of course, Gabriel would never engage in any sport that put him on equal terms with the common man.

“Halloo, Brother,” he said, entering the study without knocking, trying to keep a devil-may-care attitude, though he did care, dammit. When it came to his brother's opinion of him, he always cared, far too much.

“Marcus,” Gabriel spun around in his chair like some kind of Machiavellian version of Satan on his throne. “Good to see you. Have a seat.”

“And if I prefer to stand?”

“Do as you please. You will anyway.” Gabriel shrugged. “But I don't mean to be quick.”

“All right.” Marcus took the seat. “What is it? Clearly, something's bothering you. Did I not bow and scrape enough upon arrival? Oh, that's right. You weren't there to greet me.”

“I had pressing matters. Running an estate this size takes a fair amount of work, much more work than you'd imagine.”

“I'm sure it does. I've never envied you the possession of it, or the responsibility.”

Gabriel laughed. “No, I don't think you ever have. But here's the thing. The annuity that keeps you in fine style—”

“I wouldn't say my style is all that fine.” He straightened his lapels. “I lead a fairly simple life at Averford House.”

“You haven't exceeded your income, I'll give you that.”

“Damn straight.” Marcus sat up a little taller in the seat.

“But it could all go away, you know. Poof. Just as easily as it comes.”

Marcus raised a brow. “The estate's not in any danger, is it?”

“It's not that, no. When you have a wife, Marcus, and your wife wants something very badly, you want to give her what she wants, her heart's desire. You might understand if you had a wife.”

“Her heart's desire? A child? Sophia wants a child, and you can't quite perform your duties? I would be more than happy to step in for you, old man. We do look enough alike, I suppose, that there would be no question.”

Gabriel fisted his hands and seemed like he would stand, then kept his seat after all. “Thank you for making this so much easier for me, Marcus. You always do. I do want something from you. And if you aren't willing to play along, it's going to cost you.”

“Cost me? How? What could you possibly want?”

“As I was saying, it's what Sophia wants that matters. She wants you to marry her sister, Alice.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Well, she's hoping you'll fall in love with Alice and decide you can't live without her, and all that romance business the women like.”

“All that romance business? Gabriel, no wonder you were always such a favorite with the ladies.”

“They do like me.” Marcus's sarcasm went straight over his brother's head, as usual. “But what I'm saying is, will you woo and when the time is right, propose to, Lady Alice?”

“I hardly know Lady Alice. I doubt it. Besides, she's not to my taste.”

“Your taste runs more to Mrs. Kendal, I suppose? Don't think it escaped my notice that you were cozying up to her last night on the sofa. A dashed good thing Sophia didn't pick up on it.”

“On what? My sitting next to her friend and engaged in a harmless discussion on books? I thought I was to think of Alice. Now we're back to Sophia.”

“On the obvious attraction between you and Eve Kendal.” His brother tossed a rumpled ball of paper at him. “Imbecile. You know what I mean. I want you to marry Alice to please Sophia. She wants to keep her sister close and—”

“That settles it. I'm not the best choice. I would only whisk her away to London and make her miserable.”

“Where in London? Averford House? I don't think so. I might convince Mother to let you and your bride have the Dower House permanently, though it would mean taking Agatha on here.”

“You expect me to marry and stay on the estate, close to you?” Marcus eased forward in his chair.

“Sophia wishes it. I wish for her to be happy.”

“Why? Why would Sophia wish such a thing? She knows we don't get along, and I can guess that you haven't exactly given me a glowing recommendation as marriage material. She cares for her sister. Wouldn't she wish for Alice to be happy?”

Gabriel sighed and drummed his fingers on the desk. “She wants Thornbrook Park to have a proper heir, as do I. She loves it here. Like me, she sees the need to have someone who loves the house as much as we do in line to inherit it. But we have different ideas of how best to go about it. We lost a child, did you know?”

“Good God, Gabriel.” Marcus felt as though he'd been punched in the gut without warning. “I'm sorry. I had no idea. When?”

Gabriel stopped drumming and ran a hand through his hair. “Four years ago. You were away. The pregnancy went well. There were no problems. We had no reason to believe—” His voice broke.

“You don't have to go on. I know I'm the last person you would choose as a confidante.” Marcus had never felt such a surge of pity for his brother. It was a new and uncomfortable sensation for him.

“No. You should know. It was a boy. My son. Born healthy, or so it seemed. But Sophia had a terrible time with the delivery. She lost a lot of blood and the doctor was concerned. Mother made herself useful and took turns along with the nurse tending Sophia and the baby. It was Sophia I was worried about. We all were.

“Meanwhile, this tiny baby, seemingly perfect in every way, died in his sleep on his very first night of life. We didn't tell Sophia until she seemed strong enough several days later. She was devastated, of course, and furious that no one had told her until after her son was buried. I was only trying to protect her.” When he looked up, Gabriel's eyes glistened with gathering tears.

“She forgave you?”

Gabriel nodded. “But we haven't been the same, these past four years. She lets me get close only to push me away again. She's afraid for me to touch her, afraid to risk conceiving in case it should happen again. She couldn't bear it. I think she sees Alice and you together as our best hope, the two of you being so close a match, blood relatives to us both. Family. If you and Alice were to marry and have a child, it would be the next best thing to Sophia and me having another, with no further risk to her. Thornbrook Park would have an heir, and Sophia would always have her sister close.”

“But there's no reason to think it would happen again. Sophia could have an easier time of it. And the baby? Did they ever find out what—”

“Edward. His name was Edward.”

“After Father.” Marcus nodded. It was exactly what Gabriel would name his firstborn, the obvious choice.

“And no, they never did find out what took him. The doctor said it simply happens sometimes with infants. You put them down to sleep and they never wake. There were no signs of suffering or pain, nothing at all wrong with him.”

“I'm very sorry, Gabriel.”

“Mother went off to Italy not long after. I think she felt that Sophia blamed her. Mother is the one who settled Edward in his cradle that first night.”

“I wondered why she'd run off. When you and Sophia married, I thought she would stay around forever simply to make your lives an agony. She hated to think that Thornbrook Park had a new mistress.”

“At first.” Gabriel smiled at last. “I do believe she'd begun to get used to the idea and life in the Dower House. And then…”

“You can't give up, Gabriel. Sophia loves you. And I've never seen a man love the way you love Sophia. You fell hard and fast.”

“Love at first sight. I don't plan to give up. In fact, I'm in the unusual position of attempting to court my own wife. I'm taking her out for a picnic today.”

“That kind of love doesn't simply fade with time. She'll want you back, if not today, soon. You'll have an heir. You don't need me. And what good is it if Alice and I aren't willing?”

“Precautionary. It will take the pressure off Sophia to think she has to be the one to produce an heir. Once the pressure's off, she might have a change of heart. You will be willing, and I'm sure you can win Alice over.”

Marcus steeled himself. He could feel the tide turning. Gabriel had been warm and forthcoming, but now he had the hard glint back in his sable eyes. “And if not?”

“As I was saying, about your annuity.” Gabriel pulled a stack of papers from a drawer behind the desk and shoved them in front of Marcus, their father's will. “Apparently, I control it. I have approval of the entire estate budget from year to year, and your annuity is part of it.”

“Father figured my annuity into the estate budget? But most of it comes from Grandfather's legacy.”

“Which he controlled and added into the estate for ease of management, and which he handed over to me when he left me his heir. I control it all, Marcus, like it or not. And I can simply draw a line through your annuity and it's gone. Gone.”

The ache throbbed behind Marcus's eyes, a steady pounding that went straight to the base of his brain. “You wouldn't.”

“Tell me, is your army captain salary enough to support you? If you need to find a new place to live? Will it stretch to take care of that widow and children you've taken on as your own personal charity case?”

Marcus took a calming breath and sat back down. “Dammit, Gabriel, why? What if Alice doesn't care to play along?”

“You're a charming man when you want to be. I'm sure you can persuade her.”

“We both know you're bluffing. My inheritance is secure. It's mine. Any court of law could see it plainly. If you choose to force the point, I could always respond in kind. But let's not go down that road. I'm your brother and I'm willing to be reasonable.”

“Oh, a sudden change of heart?” Gabriel picked up the stack of papers and put them back in the drawer.

“Contrary to popular opinion, I don't like to find myself at odds with you. I have a proposal that could give us both what we want, no threats necessary.”

Gabriel nodded. “I'm listening.”

“I want the farm, Tilly Meadow, for the widow and children you mention. I brought Brandon here to see how he liked it and to help gradually win Mrs. Dennehy over to the idea of retiring and letting the Coopers take over the farm.”

“I knew there had to be more to it than you getting the boy some work.”

“I am responsible for the Coopers, and I don't like the idea of the impressionable youngsters growing up on the streets of London.”

“Bad influences abound?”

“It's not the same when you grow up without a title and the security of a large estate.”

“No, it wouldn't be. But Mrs. Dennehy is comfortably settled. I doubt she would be willing to step aside. Her husband died there. They made their whole lives there together. I won't ask her to leave.”

“But if I could somehow convince her? I will woo Alice and do my best to win her heart as long as you promise me the farm for the Coopers.”

“If you can convince Mrs. Dennehy to step aside and you can convince Alice to marry you, then you can do what you like with Tilly Meadow Farm.”

“Challenges I'm ready to accept,” he said, with a pang of regret for what he was about to lose with Eve—a promising friendship and possibly more. “For the Coopers.”