Abandoned to the Prodigal, page 10
“I’ll join you in a few minutes,” Dan said. “I’d better wash off some of this dirt first.”
As he ran up the stairs, a maid was hurrying across the landing toward the servants’ stairs. No one else was around.
“Susan,” he called, and she paused, glancing warily back at him. “A word, if you please.”
She obeyed with odd reluctance, though whether because she feared he would take liberties or ask awkward questions, he could not tell.
“Don’t look so worried. You may walk out with whoever you wish on your day off,” he said lightly.
She met his gaze. “As may you, sir.”
It wasn’t quite insolence, more of a pact, he thought, to keep each other’s secrets, although she had no idea, he hoped, of who he had been with at the river.
“Indeed. I wanted to ask you about something else. Why do you use the name Smith?”
Her breath caught. “Same reason anyone uses any name, sir.”
“Really? Because I traveled north on the stagecoach with someone who reminds me of you. Her name was Harper.”
Emotions surged in her eyes, too quickly for him to read. But it was clear the name meant something to her.
“She was coming in search of her daughter, in fear for the girl’s safety,” he said.
“Oh, no,” Susan whispered. “Why did she do that? She was right about Jim, but I don’t need my nose rubbed in it!”
“She didn’t come to say I told you so,” Dan said impatiently. “She just wants to know that you’re safe and well. You’ll find her at the Black Cat in Kidfield, tearing her hair out with worry.”
Her gaze fell. “I just wanted to be settled before I met her again. Jim Owens wasn’t a good man, but Peter Walsh is, only I haven’t known him long…”
“It would not be kind to wait for an offer of marriage before you see your mother,” he said flatly.
“I know,” she whispered. She raised her head with conscious bravery and took a deep breath. “I’ll go on my next day off.”
“Which is when? Next week?”
“The week after,” she admitted. “I’ll get the evening off on Wednesday, but there won’t be time to go to Kidfield and back.”
“Write to her,” Dan commanded.
“I can’t write,” she confessed.
Dan regarded her with a mixture of amusement and frustration. “Very well. I’ll tell her.”
“Thank you.” She flashed him a half-frightened smile and turned away before swinging back and saying hastily, “Sir, you will tell her I’m sorry?”
Dan nodded and strode on to his bedchamber. When he thought about it, he wouldn’t mind a jaunt into Kidfield for a change of scenery. Though it would probably be more fun if Juliet came, too.
He smiled to himself at that, for he couldn’t really go jaunting about the country with an earl’s daughter.
Five minutes later, he entered the breakfast room to find everyone there. He bowed but received little acknowledgment beyond his mother’s bright smile and Aunt Hetty’s vague one.
He helped himself to the fresh eggs and toast he found on the sideboard dishes and sat down.
“So, will you go over to Hornby today?” his mother asked her sisters.
Tabetha immediately frowned at her. “Why?”
“You talked about it yesterday,” Jenny reminded her.
“It depends on whether or not there is time after I have seen Papa.”
“Has he sent for you?” Hetty asked in surprise.
“No, but I expect he will, for I didn’t see him yesterday.”
“Neither did I,” Hetty said gloomily.
“The doctor came this morning,” Colin told Dan. “He believes his lordship somewhat improved. It’s possible you can go back to London.”
“Oh, that was always possible,” Dan assured him. “Are you leaving?”
“Of course not. I am my mother’s escort.”
“Why would he go?” Tabetha added. “He is not here merely to toady his inheritance out of his grandfather!”
Dan smiled. “More coffee, Aunt?”
She seemed confused by this offer, though she accepted automatically.
While Dan poured it for her, Jenny said, “Actually, you should go to Hornby. There is some calumny circulating in the press about one of the Cosland daughters. It would be kind to show you don’t believe such nonsense.”
Dan set down the coffee pot, watching the reactions of his aunts and cousin. Hetty’s eyebrows lifted in bewilderment. Colin’s lips tightened, and Tabetha looked supercilious.
“Yes, I heard about that,” Tabetha said carelessly. “Of course, Lady Cosland would never countenance such behavior, but the eldest daughter was always lively, and living with the Princess of Wales, you know, must have encouraged such manners beyond what is proper.”
“The princess wasn’t there,” Colin said dryly. “Which is the root of the problem.”
“No, it isn’t,” Jenny said. “The root of the problem is the spite behind such obvious lies.”
“Well, you would stand up for someone in the midst of a scandal,” Tabetha said maliciously.
She was right, of course, but Dan wasn’t having such mud slung at either his mother or Juliet Lilbourne.
“If there was scandal about my mother, it was as manufactured as this was, by those who have nothing better to talk about than other people’s lives. It’s nothing but envy.”
“Envy!” Colin repeated, outraged.
“Envy,” Dan repeated, holding his gaze. “But by all means, run up to Hornby and tell the countess her daughter is too lively, and it’s her own fault her name is traduced in the gutter press. Which, of course, none of you have ever read.”
“Have you?” Colin shot back.
“Naturally,” he mocked.
“The point is,” Jenny interrupted this locking of horns, “if you wish to support the countess, you should call on her. You might even learn the truth of the matter.”
For a moment, Dan could see these arguments weighed with Tabetha, then suspicion returned to her eyes. “You want us gone for the afternoon so you can cozen Papa without us knowing what you are about!”
Dan squashed his surge of temper with some difficulty. “I, for one, won’t wait until the afternoon. I shall be off cozening immediately after breakfast.”
“You can’t,” Colin said, staring. “He hasn’t sent for you.”
“I need to talk to him,” Dan said. “He can throw me out of he wants to.”
They waited, with some glee, he suspected, for this to happen. But he still strolled alone into his grandfather’s dressing room.
“Good morning, Waits. Is he awake?”
“Of course, I’m awake!” came the cantankerous voice from the bed. “What do you want? I didn’t send for you.”
“I know. So the mountain has come to Mohammed.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” Dan wandered into the bedchamber where his grandfather was reading the Morning Post from two days ago. He sprawled into the chair at the bedside. “I came to ask if I might borrow a horse to ride into Kidfield.”
“Farley exercises the only decent horse we have left for riding. You’ll interfere.”
“Fair enough. I’ll walk.”
His grandfather scowled. “Oh, take the damned horse.”
“Thank you,” Dan said. “Also, about Myerly. When did you last look about the place?”
“I don’t need to. I keep a steward.”
“But you don’t listen to him, do you? Do you know, you can tell almost immediately the borders of Myerly land because it’s so much poorer than the land that borders it?”
“What do you know about land?” the old man growled. “City wastrel.”
“Not a huge amount,” Dan admitted. “But I can recognize poverty anywhere.”
“It’s good land. Always has been.”
“And I’ve no doubt it could be again. With just a little investment.”
His grandfather glared. “Are you daring to tell me how to run my estate?”
“No, I’m daring to tell you to listen to those you pay to run your estate,” Dan retorted.
The subsequent quarrel was inevitable, and Dan knew he was doing himself no favors as far as inheritance went. The old man grew almost incandescent with rage until Dan, fearing his grandfather’s health would relapse, finally beat a retreat.
However, he wasn’t entirely displeased. He had made a few points that he had seen strike home. The old man might never do anything about it. But he might.
And since he hadn’t withdrawn his permission concerning the horse, Dan freed Gun and walked round to the stables.
As he rode around to the drive, Gun trotting beside the horse, he heard his grandfather’s yells though the open window. He hoped the old man wasn’t directing his temper at poor Waits. But in fact, the other slightly strangled, pacifying voice that drifted out of the open window, was Colin’s.
Dan grinned with a hint of ill-nature. His cousin seemed to have copied Dan in visiting without invitation. And without realizing Dan had already put his lordship in a filthy temper. Or had he thought to soothe the old devil and win favor that way?
All these machinations and suspicions surrounding the sickbed of a cantankerous and ultimately sad old gentleman left a nasty taste in Dan’s mouth. It was one reason he had wanted to spend some time away in Kidfield.
The other reason, of course, was that he had the feeling Juliet would expect him to contact Mrs. Harper now he was sure Susan was indeed her daughter. He wasn’t much given to analyzing his motives, but he suspected he didn’t often go out of his way to please people. He also knew that while he didn’t want Mrs. Harper to suffer further unease, it was his promise to Juliet that took him to the Black Cat.
Mrs. Burton, the innkeeper’s wife, remembered him. Or at least she remembered Gun. At any rate, she greeted him with wary courtesy.
“I’m looking for Mrs. Harper,” he said. “She arrived on the same coach as I did. I believe she’s staying here?”
“She was,” Mrs. Burton agreed. “But she left yesterday.”
Dan frowned. “You mean she’s vanished?”
“I mean, she paid her account and left. She did say she might be back.”
“Did she say where she was going?”
Mrs. Burton thought. “Aldergreen.”
“What the deuce is there in Aldergreen?” Dan demanded. Then he remembered. “Barracks.”
“That’s right, sir.”
And Mrs. Harper still believed her daughter was with a soldier. Or was trying to find out from him where Susan was.
He had a horse. He could ride to Aldergreen, although he had no money to change horses, so it would take him forever. And then everyone would be looking for him.
He sighed. “I’ll write her a note for when she comes back.”
Leaving his note with Mrs. Burton, he took his mug of ale outside into the yard, where a dazzling sight greeted him. A post-chaise had stopped to change horses, and stepping down from it was a young man in a magnificent bright yellow traveling coat. Beneath it, he wore a civilized blue coat, but a striped waistcoat of exactly the same shade of yellow could also be seen, along with a quizzing glass dangling from a yellow ribbon.
The young man stopped, appearing not to notice that the other occupant of the coach could not now alight. Lifting his quizzing glass, he peered at Dan.
“Cousin Daniel?” he exclaimed in amazement, mincing toward him. “What the deuce are you about in this wretched neck of the woods?”
“Much the same as you, I imagine,” Dan said, grasping his cousin’s gracefully offered hand. “Answering his lordship’s summons. How are you, Hugh?”
Hugh had caught sight of Gun by then and staggered back in alarm. “What in God’s name is that?”
“This is Gun. Friendly and harmless, though he will muddy your pretty coat.”
“Then he is not harmless,” Hugh pronounced. “But where are my manners? Papa, have you met Cousin Daniel Stewart before? Aunt Jenny’s son.”
The older gentleman, who held a handkerchief to his nose, goggled.
“Dan, my father.”
“How do you, sir?” Dan said politely, offering his hand to Mr. Ames.
His uncle took it mechanically, in a limp kind of way, lowering the handkerchief from his face to say, “Poorly, I’m afraid, poorly. I have the most dreadful cold, and the last thing I need is to be shut up in an airless carriage for days on end.”
“Days?” Daniel said, startled.
“One day,” Hugh corrected, “though it does feel like several. Neither of us would be here, to be frank, except Mama wrote and said everyone else was, and I would be missing out. However, I can’t imagine seeing me will soften the old gentleman’s heart, so not sure of the point.”
“To entertain his lordship one last time,” Dan said cynically. “I think we’re probably meant to fight over our inheritance.”
“And how is that going?” Hugh inquired.
“I’ll leave that to your own observations. My belief is, he’ll leave everything to an orphanage just to see our reaction.”
Hugh considered that doubtfully. “So, he hasn’t croaked yet?”
“No. In fact, he appears to be rallying.”
Mr. Ames sneezed into his handkerchief and turned away.
Hugh made a comical, long-suffering face. “Offer you a seat to Myerly, old fellow?” He eyed Gun with clear misgivings.
“No, thank you,” Dan said hastily. “I’ll just finish my ale and ride back when the horse has rested. Good luck.”
“Same to you,” Hugh said with his unexpectedly sweet smile and assisted his father back into the chaise.
Chapter Nine
“Did you leave your card at Myerly?” Juliet asked her mother over dinner. They had no guests, so she had been allowed to join the family.
“Yes, I did, but I didn’t stop.”
“Then you did not see anyone?” Kitty said, disappointed.
“A young man rode up the drive as we were leaving,” Mama said. “He was not dressed for riding and wore his hat at a crooked angle, but he had a good seat in the saddle, and he bowed to me.”
Dan, Juliet thought with glee. She wondered where he’d been, felt a wistful longing to have accompanied him. Which was silly. She had only seen him this morning. And would again tomorrow.
“Oh, we must remember Lawrence is coming over tomorrow, Juliet, so you must keep out of the way.”
Juliet sighed and nodded. She wondered if she could sneak away while everyone was occupied, ride further afield, perhaps to Kidfield. Or Myerly.
“Is that really necessary, Mama?” Kitty argued. “Lawrence knows all about this scandal and believes in Juliet’s innocence quite as much as I do. He knows she is here, so it is silly to keep her from him. In fact, it looks positively odd.”
“You may have a point,” the countess agreed. “What do you think, Cosland? Shall we relax the rules, just for Lawrence’s visit?”
“I suppose so,” the earl said grudgingly. “So long as the Kings don’t object.”
In her present circumstances, it was enough to give Juliet hope. She looked forward to seeing her sister’s betrothed again, of seeing them together, and refused to think about the possibility of Jeremy’s presence at Hornby next week.
She went to bed early and rose at dawn. She crammed a book into her reticule in case she had to wait for Dan, but this morning she didn’t doubt that he would come.
And she was right. As she came in sight of the bridge, he was already walking over it. Gun shot past him, hurling himself at her with great glee. When she had fended him off, laughing and ruffling his head, Dan was there, offering his arm in courtly fashion. They walked together, talking like much older friends than they actually were.
“Mrs. Harper has left Kidfield for Aldergreen,” Dan said. “I left her a note at the Black Cat, but we can’t be sure she will come back.”
“And it would be good for her peace of mind to know as soon as possible that her daughter is safe and well. My father is acquainted with the colonel at Aldergreen. I shall write to him and ask him to look out for Mrs. Harper and her inquiries.”
“Susan’s soldier is called Jim Owens.”
She nodded. “I don’t think we can do anymore for now.”
“And what of your own problems?” he asked.
She wrinkled her nose and told him about Jeremy’s letter and Kitty’s advice. “The trouble is, I’m not sure I could re-engage myself to him quite so cynically, just to dismiss him again when all this nonsense blows over. For one thing, what if it doesn’t? For another, although he deserves the humiliation, I don’t think I could bring myself to smile at him, let alone accept his offer again.”
Dan was silent a moment. “You might feel differently when you see him again. After all, you must have liked him when you accepted him the first time.”
“I did.” She frowned. “I suppose it’s easy to like someone when you don’t know them. Everything was always so formal, not like—” She broke off, taking the stick from Gun’s mouth and throwing it for him. It served to hide her embarrassment at what she had so nearly said. Not like it is with you.
“However,” she said lightly, “it has clearly eased my father’s mind to the extent that I am now allowed to be present when Lawrence—Mr. King, Kitty’s betrothed—calls on us this afternoon. How is your party at Myerly?”
He grinned. “Growing. My cousin Hugh and his father appeared yesterday.”
“Was he wearing his pink coat?” she asked eagerly.
“No, it was plain blue, but his yellow and blue waistcoat more than made up for that. As did the long yellow traveling coat, I first saw him in.”
“Like a sunbeam?” she asked.
“Very much.”
“Do you know, I think I would like a yellow coat now? Not a pale pastel shade, but a vibrant yellow.”
“It will look beautiful on you.”
“Perhaps Mr. Ames’s coat will look beautiful on you, too. Would you wear it?”
“I’ll wear anything if I’m cold enough.”
Although he spoke in the same bantering tones, the answer made her frown. “Are you often cold? Dan, are you really poor?”
