A Sensible Lady: A Traditional Regency Romance (16 page)

“Richard offered no protest. We were going into battle, and I think he was just as happy to be relieved of the care and responsibility for his volatile young wife. I saw him from time to time after that, but he never mentioned Doña Elena. I have no idea what his plans for her would have been if he had survived.”

Harry moved to a window and opened it so that the cool night air could clear the smoke from the room and the cobwebs from his mind.

Charlie Hamilton sat and poured himself another glass of brandy.

Gus stared silently at the coals in the fireplace.

“Is Miguel Doña Elena’s son, and can it be proven to the satisfaction of the authorities?” Harry had put everyone’s thoughts into words.

But, at that moment, Harry had no doubt in the matter. Had there ever been as young a child with as much dignity and grace as the boy Katherine Brampton called her nephew? Charlie’s description of Doña Elena’s father was strikingly like the widow’s description of the Spanish gentleman who had placed Miguel in her care to be delivered to the family of Richard Brampton in Sussex, England.

Miguel’s apparent age fit the facts as Charlie presented them. Conceived in June of 1809, give or take a month, Miguel probably was just past his fourth birthday. And if he was Doña Elena’s son, he was also Richard Brampton’s legal son and heir—Sir Miguel Brampton—rightful owner of Oak End. Whatever would Clive Brampton say or do about that possibility? Whatever would become of Katherine Brampton?

“We could make a pact among ourselves. Swear that not one word of this story is ever spoken again.”

Harry had intended to offer it was an option rather than propose it as a course of action, but the glares from Charlie and Gus declared it to be a nonstarter. He knew they were right. It would be immoral to condemn Miguel to the life of a bastard if he were Sir Richard Brampton’s legitimate son and heir.

“Whatever course we decide on, we must protect both the boy and Miss Brampton. I would hate to think Sir Clive—Clive Brampton—capable of serious skullduggery. But consider the fact that if Miguel is suspected to be the legitimate son of Richard Brampton, Clive Brampton might very well try to become his de facto guardian, if not his legal guardian. There are no maternal relatives to protect Miguel, and, much as she loves him, Katherine Brampton would be helpless, with no funds to pursue the matter in court,” Gus said.

Gloom settled over the three friends.

“Is there any evidence of Miguel’s identity—other than the logical conclusion to the facts as I know them to be?” Charlie asked.

Gus rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand.

“Miss Brampton showed me a ring when she asked me to baptize Miguel into the Anglican Church. The child was wearing it on a chain round his neck when he arrived. I daresay it might be the very ring you described. Not much larger than a child’s size. Inside were engraved initials. I cannot remember them all. The first, I am quite certain, was a great ‘E.’
There
were three others. As I recall, the middle was a small ‘d.’ I thought it might stand for ‘de.’ I wrote all the initials in the parish registry after his Christian name. It was all the poor lad had in the way of a surname.”

“Do you have any memory of Doña Elena’s surname, Hamilton?”

Glum faced, Charlie shook his head—then brightened.

“I say! I kept a journal, a diary of sorts, early on in the war. Let it go after a while. One march is pretty much like every other march. And who wants to remember the details of the battles? I shall leave that to the generals. But that journal must be somewhere amongst all the gear I brought home. I might have mentioned the name of the chaplain. Failing that, I could check with the Horse Guards. They’d have a record of chaplains serving in the Peninsula at that time. Not the sort of wedding a chap would forget conducting, I imagine. And there were other witnesses, I know. I shall have to try to remember who they were and if any of them have survived.”

“If you conduct any inquiries, you will have to be extraordinarily discrete. Cannot have Clive Brampton getting wind of it,” Harry warned.

“You’re right, Dracott.
Which of course means that Miss Brampton must marry, or at the very least become engaged to marry at the earliest possible moment.
”

Harry glared at Gus.

“You were thinking to offer for Miss Brampton, Wharton?”

“No, Dracott, I was going to suggest that
you
offer for her.”

“What Wharton suggests has merit, you know,” Charlie Hamilton said before Harry could find words to explain that it might be a little awkward for him to offer for Katherine Brampton at the present time. It would be mortifying to tell his friends the full story of his relationship with the lady. He could hear their hoots of derision at his missteps. But, even worse would be standing by and watching one of them wed her. He needed time to sort things out.

“I do not believe Miss Brampton is disposed to marry.”

Harry knew it did not sound convincing, but he had no intention of telling his friends just how badly he had blotted his copybook with Katherine Brampton. Even with his lack of Hamilton’s charm and Wharton’s subtlety, it was amazing how Harry had managed to alienate that gentle and beautiful lady, all the while desiring her more than he had ever before desired a woman. If his friends guessed the half of it, they would never cease laughing at him.

“I am certain you are wrong on that point. I am certain that if matters are explained to her clearly, she will see the wisdom of marrying you.”

Harry wanted to ask Gus how he could be so sure. But he could not frame the question. Harry knew that as painful as the prospect of offering for Katherine Brampton once more was, it was infinitely more painful for him to think of anyone else offering for her and being accepted.

“Wharton’s right,” Charlie Hamilton said, standing and stretching. “The facts must be presented dispassionately to her. Fact is, as a peer, you are the best placed of us to gain guardianship of Miguel if Clive fights for the inheritance, which I am certain he will.”

Harry wondered how he could reinstate himself in Katherine Brampton’s good graces. It might help if that spaniel got into another patch of burrs. Regardless, he had best prepare himself to do a good bit of apologizing.

“You check the registry for those initials, Wharton. Hamilton, see if you can find that diary. If the initials in the registry and the name in the diary match, I will present the facts to Miss Brampton, and ask her to be my wife.”

*****

Gus Wharton’s note arrived very early the next morning, but Harry was awake. He had not slept much. The initials following Miguel’s first name in the parish registry were,
“ E
G d V.” Charlie Hamilton’s note arrived late in the afternoon. Captain Richard Brampton had been united in holy matrimony to Doña Elena
Garces
de
Villalonga
on June 2, 1809 somewhere close to the border of Portugal and Spain. Mr. Robert
Campden
, priest of the Church of England, had been the officiating clergyman. When he returned to London, Charlie planned to start tracing the Reverend Mr.
Campden
.

Harry went to the safe that held the Dracott jewels. Having never before looked over the entire collection, he was amazed at the quantity and variety of gemstones and settings: tiaras, necklaces, bracelets, broaches, and rings, each in its velvet-lined box or satin pouch. The diamond and sapphire ring his mother wore was there, as was the large ruby his grandmother had worn. The sapphire he had given Angela winked back at him as he breathed deeply to absorb the pain the sight of it brought. He made a mental note to ask Simpkins to sell it.

At last he found what he had been looking for. A large emerald cabochon said to have been a gift from King Charles II to the first Lord Dracott for services rendered the Crown. Harry did not doubt that the Merry Monarch would have appreciated a lady of Katherine Brampton’s charms, if not her disposition.

Harry decided to insist that Katherine Brampton put the ring on immediately. It would be more difficult for her to break an engagement if she had to return a ring.

She loved Lord Henry Dracott. What had blinded her to that fact? Why had it taken her so long to recognize it? How had she managed to throw away her chance to become his wife? How could she bear to marry anyone else? How could she bear to see him marry anyone but her? What was she to do? What could she do?

Captain Charles Hamilton had returned from the war. She blushed remembering her hope that he might become her rescuer.

He paid a call upon her and Aunt
Prunella
.  Lithe and handsome, he was dressed in the usual garb of a country gentleman: buckskins, boots, and riding coat, but with a military bearing that would forever lend him distinction.

“I am very sorry for the loss of your brother, Richard, Miss Brampton; your nephew, Miss Summersville. He was a courageous officer, a born leader of men.”

“How kind of you, Captain Hamilton.”

Aunt
Prunella
dabbed at her eyes with a small lace handkerchief.

“Yes, Captain, it is very kind of you, and we are so happy that you have returned safely.”

Miguel had taken his usual post by Katherine’s chair.

“Let me present Miguel to you, Captain.”

Katherine straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.

“He is Richard’s child, a wonderful comfort and gift after our loss.”

Miguel and Charles Hamilton exchanged bows, each regarding the other with undisguised curiosity.

“I do not suppose you might know…”

Katherine blushed, lost for words. How could she inquire delicately about the origins of her brother’s illegitimate son?

“I am sorry, Miss Brampton. I knew nothing of a child.”

Captain Hamilton sounded genuinely regretful, but he glanced away as he spoke.

He knows something
. Katherine was certain.
He knows something about Miguel’s mother.
How would she ever convince this proper gentleman to speak to her about such an improper subject? Certainly she could not now, with Aunt
Prunella
present.

The balance of the visit was taken up with other subjects. Captain Hamilton planned trips to London to sell his commission and to Bath to visit Jane, who might be returning to
Drayford
Vale. Katherine resolved to be patient, but if Charles Hamilton thought he could keep secrets about Miguel’s mother, he would learn he was badly mistaken.

Even a short social call tired Aunt
Prunella
, who retired to her room as soon as Captain Hamilton left.

Katherine retreated to the garden, wandering aimlessly down the paths, Princess padding by her side, Miguel charging ahead on his broom-horse. If anyone had inquired, she would have said she was examining plants for signs of new growth or winter damage. But her thoughts were about the man she had discovered, too late, that she loved.

Thank heavens Mr. Wharton had temporized when she had offered him her panicked marriage proposal. What had he said to her? He thought she might fall in love with someone else? Had he known or suspected her feelings before she had?

She looked up to see Sally running from the house.

“
He
is here, Miss Brampton!”

When Sally said
he
, it could mean only one gentleman. Katherine wondered for a second if her thoughts had somehow magically summoned him.

“I put him in the front parlor, Miss Brampton. I’ll look after Miguel. And, please, do at least discard that old green shawl.”

Katherine saw Sally’s surprise and approval when she not only left her shawl in the kitchen, but also when she glanced in the hall mirror and tucked in an errant curl before following Princess into the parlor. But Katherine was playing for time, not worrying about her appearance. She was trying to still the pounding of her heart so that it could not be heard across the parlor.

Lord Dracott was sitting in the throne-like chair beside the fireplace, absently scratching Princess’s ears. He stood slowly, and bowed. As Katherine rose from her courtesy, she noticed Lord
Dracott’s
appearance was slightly altered and realized he had a fresh, close haircut; his coat had been pressed; and his scuffed boots had been polished. His jaw was almost as clean as Miguel’s. Apparently, Lord Dracott had shaved just before setting out for the Dower House.

He cleared his throat as he sat down. Princess abandoned him for Katherine’s lap.

“Miss Brampton. I…uh…”

“Would you care for some refreshment, Lord Dracott?”

“Thank you, Miss Brampton, but no thank you.”

He cleared his throat again. Katherine patted Princess, grateful for the diversion.

“Thing is, Miss Brampton,” Lord Dracott settled back in the large chair, grasping the arms. “I owe you an apology for my behavior the night of the search. Totally out of proportion…you had been very quick-witted in the most alarming of circumstances.”

“I was wrong to have withheld Jimmy’s whereabouts from you when you asked, Lord Dracott. Indeed, I should have thought before hiding him. Thank you for your apology, but I owe you one, more than you owe me.”

His smile revealed hints of the carefree youth he had been before tragedy and war had engraved lines on his face and wariness in his gaze.

Katherine repressed an impulse to rush to him and throw her arms around his neck. She should have ordered tea, or something stronger. Could he possibly intend to renew his offer, or was she building air castles on decent barbering and a smile? She concentrated on stroking Princess.

“It is a relief to have that little matter out of the way between us, Miss Brampton.
Did not want to broach the subject the other day with Lizzie and Miguel present.”

“Thank you again, Lord Dracott, for coming to Princess’s aid. I am not at all sure how I would have managed without your help.”

“You had made a good start, Miss Brampton, but it is not the sort of task a lady should have to tackle.
Looks as if that spaniel belongs here in a parlor rather than on a hunting field.”

Lord Dracott cleared his throat again and adjusted his neck cloth, destroying the careful folds that had been placed in it.

“Had you heard that Captain Charles Hamilton is back from the war, Miss Brampton?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, he paid us a brief visit this morning, offering condolences for Richard.
Very thoughtful of him.
Aunt
Prunella
was deeply touched.”

Lord Dracott nodded and ran a hand over his jaw.

“Good man, Hamilton. It is a great relief he survived the slaughter. Best friends I ever had, he and Wharton, and your brother Richard. Hamilton and Wharton spent the day at the Hall earlier this week.
Something of a reunion.”

Katherine stopped patting Princess and focused her attention on her guest. He had not come to renew his offer after all. Why was he going on about Charles Hamilton, Gus Wharton, and Richard? Everyone knew they had been thicker than thieves before their adult lives had put them on separate paths.

“I do not have to tell you what great friends Hamilton and your brother were.
Bought commissions at the same time.
Shipped off to the Peninsula together.
Saw a bit of each other off and on between battles.

“
Thing
of it is, Miss Brampton, Hamilton told us—told Wharton and me—something that we all agreed you need to know.”

Katherine had to remind herself to take a breath. ‘Something you need to know’ rarely introduced welcome news.

“The fact is Miss Brampton, your brother Richard was married, married to a highborn Spanish lady somewhere between Oporto and Talavera.”

Katherine stared at Lord Dracott trying to assimilate what he had said. She must have leaned forward, because Princess jumped from her lap and curled up on the hearth.

“I am sorry to shock you, Miss Brampton. Would you like for me to ring for something?
Tea?
Sherry? Brandy?”

“No, no thank you, Lord Dracott.”

Katherine took a deep breath, then another. Charles Hamilton
had
known something about Miguel’s mother. Katherine had sensed it during his visit. But Katherine never dreamed what Charles Hamilton knew was that Miguel’s mother was married to Richard. Why had Charles Hamilton not told her? Why was Lord Dracott telling her?

“Are you saying that the highborn lady Richard married is Miguel’s mother? Is that what you are telling me, Lord
Dracott
”

Katherine could hardly recognize her own husky whisper.

Lord Dracott leaned toward her, hands clasped between his knees.

“We do not yet know it for a certainty, Miss Brampton, but we are in the process of gathering information, and we think it likely that what we learn will confirm what we strongly suspect: that Miguel is Richard’s legitimate son.”

“Tell me all you know, please.”

Lord Dracott stood and stretched to his full height, stepped over to the hearth and tapped a cold, partly burned log with the toe of his boot. Princess shook herself and hopped back up on Katherine’s lap. Lord Dracott turned, folded his arms and leaned on the mantel.

“War does terrible things to a country, Miss Brampton. Thank God Nelson and our navy kept it from our shores. When your brother, Richard, and Charles Hamilton arrived in Lisbon back in the spring of ’09, the French pretty much controlled the Peninsula. The Spanish were divided between families who had cooperated with the French and those who had fought the French. Those who had opposed the French were in mortal danger, as were their families. The reputation of French soldiers’ treatment of Spanish ladies was…unsavory.”

He looked down at his boots and thrust his hands into his coat pockets, then looked up at Katherine.

“And so, there were any number of Spanish ladies who were sent to Lisbon for safety. One of them was a very young, very beautiful—and by all reports—very headstrong lady named Doña Elena
Garces
de
Villalonga
.”

“E G d V: the initials in the ring,” Katherine whispered.

Lord Dracott nodded.

“Wharton remembered that you had shown him the ring when Miguel was baptized, and he recorded the initials in the parish registry. Hamilton kept a diary and had written down the lady’s name. They match.”

“Do go on, Lord Dracott. I did not mean to interrupt. I want to hear the whole story.”

“There were parties and balls, of course, and Richard met Doña Elena at one of them. Hamilton is not clear about the details. I suspect he had an interest of his own at the time.”

Katherine knew better than to ask the nature of Charles Hamilton’s interest.

Lord Dracott returned to the large chair, sat, stretched out his legs, and rested his elbows on the chair’s arms.

“It was not all that long before Richard and Hamilton marched off for Oporto, fought there, and then marched on toward Talavera. According to Hamilton, Doña Elena
came
riding into camp one day just about the time they were crossing from Portugal into Spain. No chaperone. No maid. The upshot was that your brother fetched a chaplain, and he and Doña Elena were married, all right and tight in the eyes of the Church of England. Charles Hamilton signed as a witness.”

Katherine let out a breath she had not known she was holding.

“According to Hamilton, Doña Elena was a fearless rider.
Had no problem keeping up with the march.
Then, just before the Battle of Talavera, a Spanish grandee rode up and challenged your brother. The Spanish gentleman was, of course, Doña Elena’s father. I shudder to think what would have happened to Richard if she had not shown her father her marriage lines. He calmed a bit, but produced his own priest, a Roman priest. So the couple was married once more—in the Roman rite.

“A long discussion ensued between Richard and Doña Elena’s father with Doña Elena protesting from time to time. In the end, the angry and unhappy lady rode off with her father. Hamilton believes that Richard and Doña Elena’s father agreed that she would remain under her father’s protection until the cessation of hostilities.”

“Which Richard did not live to see,” Katherine whispered.