His Unexpected Bride (26 page)

“Russell left two sons,” she said, watching his face closely. She had seen Papa fly off into a pelter over having milk for his tea instead of cream, and she wanted to be prepared for any explosion that might come now. “We believed they were illegitimate.”

“He had many mistresses.”

“Yes, but he may have had a wife.”

“What?” he roared.

She wanted to put her hands over her ears, but she came to her feet. “Papa, I have heard that the mother of the older boy, Donald, may have been Russell's legal wife.”

“Nonsense!”

“It is possible. I have sent my abigail to the church where they were supposedly wed to find out if their signatures are in the register there. If they are, Donald may be the legitimate duke.”

“Legitimate?” He puffed vehemently on his pipe. “It may be no more than a rumor started by someone who wishes to discredit your husband.”

“I trust the one who told me this.”

“Who spoke to you of this?”

“One of the servants in the house.” She would not tell her father how Jenette had come to her with the information that the servants had been whispering about this since they had talked to people who lived near the house where the boys had been kept until their father's death.

He laughed. “Then it is clearly just poker-talk. I had thought you were wise enough to discount the gossip servants enjoy at the cost of their betters.”

“I am, but this has the ring of truth about it. That is why I came to you to ask your advice.”

“My advice is to say nothing to your husband about this.”

“But, Papa, Cam must be told of the rumors that are being spread.”

“No doubt he already knows of them.”

“He has said nothing to me.”

Her father patted her cheek as if she were no older than Philip. “My dear child, it is a man's place to keep his family from becoming upset.”

Tess bristled in spite of herself. “He has not failed to tell me of other matters I found quite upsetting.” Pushing aside her own vexation, she added, “Papa, I cannot fail to tell Cameron about this. If he has
not
heard of it, the ones behind these stories may be working to cause him more trouble. If it is the truth, he must know of it now rather than in the future, when it could be humiliating for him.”

“And what if he has heard it and intends to squash this rumor so the title remains his?”

“Then I should help him find out who has started this malicious story that is sure to hurt him and the boys.”

“Even if the rumor is true?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, I see,” her father said with a grimace, “that Town has not changed you. You still are as honest as a parson.” He took her elbow and turned her toward the door. “Go home, Tess. I will tend to this.”

“How?”

He frowned, clearly vexed she would continue to question him. “I will tend to this, I said, and tend to it I will. You must vow to say nothing to your husband of this.”

“I cannot vow that.”

“You must!” he shouted. “You may stir up a beehive if you speak out of hand now. You have no idea how many plans you will be upsetting if you prattle.”

She almost asked whose plans. Then she halted herself. Papa and Cameron had spoken briefly at the musicale. Mayhap Cameron had told her father of his intention of finding out the truth about the carriage accident. Cameron had learned to trust her, so he could be trusting Papa, too.

“Promise me, Tess,” he ordered, his fingers tightening on her arm.

“Yes, Papa.” She pulled her arm out of his grasp and went toward the door. Another promise! She had too many of them restraining her as tightly as Cameron held in his feelings, but none of them had felt as wrong as this one.

“Where is Uncle Cam?” asked Donald as he rocked with excitement from one foot to the other.

Tess smiled. It was amazing to think they were becoming a family in spite of themselves.

“I believe,” she replied, “he is upstairs in his workroom. He received more plants. Some of them are still living, and he is making sure they are properly watered and getting the right amount of sun.”

Philip's nose wrinkled. “That sounds boring.”

“It is not for your uncle.” She squatted down and adjusted the front of his coat. “Do you have your extra spool of string in case you can get the kite to go extra high today?”

“I will get it,” both boys shouted as they ran up the stairs, nearly plowing Mrs. Detloff down. They slowed only a bit when she chided them as her scissors bounced out of her ubiquitous basket.

“They are so excited,” Tess said as the governess tied her bonnet securely under her chin. With a steady wind swirling through the square and the sun shining brightly, it was the perfect day for Mrs. Detloff to take them to Hyde Park so they could fly the kites she had had them working on for the past two days.

Mrs. Detloff chuckled. “I hope they will be just as excited if a string breaks and their kite lands in the Serpentine.”

“You will have a difficult time keeping them from jumping in after it.”

“That is why I am taking a footman with me. Matthew is having the carriage brought around.” She paused before adding, “It would be a wise decision to have His Grace purchase a pony cart for the use of the children and me. It is more appropriate than a closed carriage.”

“I shall speak to him of it this very afternoon.”

“Thank you. I—” She did not get a chance to say more as the boys swooped down the stairs.

Tess laughed as the governess herded them out the door. When she heard a deeper laugh behind her, she turned to face Cameron. Her greeting vanished, unspoken, when she saw how his eyes twinkled. She recognized that expression and exulted in her own delight when his fingers stroked her cheek with fleeting fire. She yearned to grasp them and draw his hand along her in an endless caress.

She stepped away before she could cede herself to the longing to be in his arms. Now, more than ever before, she must resist her desire to delve the depths of the passion they could share. If the rumors about Donald were true, Cameron would no longer be in need of an heir. He might find this marriage very convenient—a wife at home with whom he could discuss his scientific work and a mistress elsewhere with whom he could share his love.

If the rumors about Donald were not true, then—a scream came from the street just outside the door. The shriek from a horse was even louder, but was drowned out by a woman's screech of terror.

“The boys!” Tess cried.

Eighteen

Cameron reached the door before Tess and flung it open. She rushed out past Mrs. Detloff, who was dropping to the steps, senseless. A horse and rider were pausing to look back at a crumpled form in the street.

“Tess, wait!” Cameron shouted.

She ignored him as she raced to the tiny body in the street. Donald! It was Donald! Was he alive or … no, she could not even complete the thought. As she knelt beside him, the rider shouted to his mount and was fleeing around the corner. Three footmen gave chase, but they had no chance of catching him.

As Tess knelt by Donald, she put her hand on his back, for he was curled into a ball. “Donald?” she asked, her voice almost breaking on his name.

A hand against her own back told her Cameron was beside her. She did not take her eyes from the little boy, who was slowly raising his head.

“My leg. It hurts,” Donald whimpered.

Cameron ran his hands along the little boy's leg. “I do not think it is broken, but a doctor will be able to tell us for certain.” He put his arms carefully under the little boy and lifted him off the ground. “You must be more cautious,” he said. “Some neck-or-nothing riders will not halt. You must look—”

Donald scowled a youthful version of Cameron's most irritating expression. “I
did
look before I stepped into the street. I am not a baby. I know to be careful.”

“Later,” Tess said, hushing Philip, who was bouncing from one step to the next, torn between seeing what had happened to his brother and getting help for the most definitely swooned governess. Tears were racing down his cheeks, and there was blood on his right elbow. “Cam, take Donald upstairs please. Harbour, send for a doctor and have someone bring the
sal volatile
to wake Mrs. Detloff.” Taking Philip by the hand, she watched as they all went to do as she had requested.

Only then did she look over her shoulder to see the footmen returning. They wore disgusted frowns. When she motioned to the taller one, he walked toward her as the other man hurried to the carriage.

“You are Matthew, correct?” she asked.

“Yes, Yer Grace.”

“Mrs. Detloff had you bring the carriage to the front door?”

“Yes, Yer Grace.”

Glancing down at Philip, she hesitated. Then, knowing anything Matthew might say could not be worse than what the little boy had witnessed, she said, “Tell me what you saw.”

“I didn't see anythin', Yer Grace. That is,” he hurried to add when she frowned, “I didn't see anythin' while I was bringin' the carriage 'round. Then, all a sudden, 'e was there.”

“Donald?”

“No, Yer Grace. That addle cove came out of nowhere and rode Donald down.” He muttered something under his breath, and she guessed she would be wise not to ask him to repeat it. “A brave youngster, Yer Grace. Master Donald got hurt 'cause 'e jumped out to push this cunnin' shaver—” He gave Philip a wink. “'E pushed Master Philip right away from that crazy rider.”

Tess's stomach twisted with fear. Mayhap it was simply a coincidence, but had someone else heard of the rumors that one of these children might be the true heir? “Would you know the rider if you saw him again?”

He shook his head, his smile disappearing. “'Appened so fast, and I was thinkin' of the lads.”

“I am glad to hear that. Thank you, Matthew, for trying to catch that Newgate saint.”

“Wish I'd caught 'im. Time 'e learned a thing or two.” As she turned, he said, “Yer Grace, 'e was ridin' a gray horse.”

“A gray? Are you certain?”

“Aye. Good-lookin' 'orse it was.”

Carrying Philip into the house, Tess smiled when she saw Harbour assisting Mrs. Detloff up the stairs. Tess calmed the governess's fears that she would be turned off with a bad character for failing to protect her charges and told Harbour to have some tea and some sweet cakes sent both to Mrs. Detloff's bedchamber and to the room that had become the nursery.

More quickly than Tess would have guessed possible, the doctor had arrived, cleaned the scratches and bruises on Donald's leg, put on a bandage of which the little boy seemed inordinately proud, and taken his leave. Cook must have taken the time to make new chocolate frosting for the cakes for the boys, because there were signs that other frosting had been scraped off before this thick, dark layer was applied.

“You must sit still, Donald,” Tess said for what she suspected was the twelfth time as Cameron held his finger to his lip to try to calm Philip. “Even though your leg is not broken, you need to rest.”

“Did you see me?” asked Donald, still excited by his adventure. “I copied Heddy and curled right up into a ball.”

Cameron laughed, but the sound was tight, and she knew he was as furious as she was at the careless rider. “But a hedgehog who curls up in the middle of the street is sure to be run down.”

“Do not tease him,” she said, faking a smile. “You were a very brave boy, Donald. You chose the right thing to do when you tried to protect your brother from harm. Now you must choose the right thing again and sit quietly.”

“I will.” He gave her a sly smile. “I will if you will let Heddy come in here. I can watch her until she wakes up. Then I can feed her while I sit here on my bed.”

This time, Cameron's laugh was a bit more genuine. “The lad has the Hawksmoor charm, I must say.”

“Charm?” she returned with a grin. “I would say rather he has the Hawksmoor determination to get what he wants, no matter what.” Turning to Philip, she said, “If you will be very, very, very careful, you can bring Heddy from my room. Do not wake her, because she becomes quite testy if she is disturbed.” She tapped his thumb which still bore the imprint from the hedgehog's teeth from when he had stuck his fingers into the cage to jostle Heddy.

“I will be very careful,” Philip said with every inch of his childish pride.

“Very, very, very careful,” corrected his brother.

Tess looked back at Cameron. “I would like to speak with you for a moment.” She had held in for too long the appalling thoughts that the rumor of Donald's legitimacy and this incident were somehow connected. Yet who had anything to gain by making sure there was no reason for those rumors to continue? Cameron had become a duke with his brother's death. Although he had protested it was a title he did not want, he might have changed his mind.

No! She could not believe that. Cameron might be tight-lipped and unwilling to express his emotions, but his distress on the street when they had not known if Donald was alive could not have been feigned by even the greatest thespian.

Following Philip out of the room, Tess was not surprised when Cameron led her down the hall and into his sitting room. Unlike the day when she had been here before, the draperies were thrown back and sunshine filled the room. She let her shoulders droop from the tension left by her fear as she took the cup of tea Cameron held out to her. Sitting in the closest chair, she sipped.

“The doctor seems to think the injury will not cause him to limp,” Cameron said as he sat beside her.

“That is good. He may have nightmares for a while, because he is frightened, despite his brave words. While the doctor was examining him, Donald kept saying he could not believe that nice gray horse would try to hurt him.”

Cameron arched his brow. “Donald is very much his father's son. Russell adored horses when he was a child. He had spoken of breeding a fine line of race horses when he became a man. Grays were what he planned to breed, but he had only the one, which he apparently lost in some card game while I was on the Continent.”