Realm 04 - A Touch of Grace (18 page)

Gabriel nodded his agreement. “Is Lexford well enough to attend a social engagement? I understood he still struggled with his recovery.”

Lowery returned to his seat. “The viscount has recovered physically, but he still has not recalled many of the important events from his life.”

Gabriel had events he would like to never relive, but he supposed selective memory an impossibility. During Satiné Aldridge’s kidnapping, Lord Lexford had sustained a head injury when Lachlan Charters had struck Lexford from behind. According to Shepherd, Gabriel’s friend Aidan Kimbolt recalled little of his life centering around the loss of his wife Susan. Or since then, for that matter. “Then why chance being in Society?”

Lowery’s lips turned up in amusement. “Lexford has spent the days since the attack as a guest at Thorn Hall.”

“Enough said,” Gabriel added. “A month of Thornhill’s care would have me planning an escape or seeking a room at Bedlam.” Gabriel and Brantley Fowler, the Duke of Thornhill, had held a healthy competition beginning with their days at the university. They respected each other as partners in the Realm, but, in reality, Gabriel had always found the Duke a bit cocky. Gabriel took great delight in besting the man, whether with a sword or in the ballroom.

“I am surprised they have all come to Town. Thornhill and Yardley have chosen to face the gossips. The former Aldridge sisters are tainted from their involvement with Murhad Jamot. I have heard Yardley declare neither he nor Lady Yardley will permit the gossips their due.”

“And Worthing?” Gabriel asked. “I thought with Lady Worthing’s upcoming confinement they would remain in Derbyshire.”

Lowery glanced at the still open door. He lowered his voice. “Rumors have it Shepherd plans to groom Kerrington for political office. I suspect Worthing and his lady will only remain in London for a few weeks.”

“Kerrington for political office,” Gabriel said in amazement. “Needless to say, I can easily see the Captain in such a position. He is one of the most capable men of my acquaintance. I would certainly throw my support his way.”

*

The evening proved to be entertaining in one respect. Lowery’s brother had made an appearance, after all. Lord Hellsman set the tongues a wagging with the spectacle he and Miss Tilney created when the gentleman claimed the woman he loved.

“A bit dramatic,” Lexford grumbled as they smoked cheroots on the balcony. “Shoot me if I act so foolishly.”

Gabriel’s eyebrow rose in amusement. Among his Realm unit, Lexford had always been the one to wear his heart on his sleeve. “You are not a believer in true love?”

His friend stared out into the darkness. “Maybe once. A long time ago.” Silence prevailed for more than a minute, then the viscount smiled widely. His forced frivolity did not fool Gabriel. Aidan Kimbolt still grieved for his young wife. His friend said, “Of course, that was before Thornhill invited me to Kent. You cannot fathom the number of times I have stumbled upon the Duke and his duchess in an intimate embrace. I swear, Godown, it is enough to make one wish for blindness. Has the man never heard of a locked door?”

Gabriel laughed lightly. “At least, the situation has sped your recovery.”

Lexford shrugged noncommittally. “Not completely, but the physician assures me my memory will recovery.”

“When do you return to Cheshire?”

“I have promised Thornhill I will remain at Briar Hall until the Short Season ends. The Duchess has asked me to spend Christmastide with them, but a man wishes to know his own home after a lengthy stay elsewhere. Besides, if I do not reclaim Mr. Hill’s services soon, I will lose my man to Worthing.”

Gabriel snubbed out the cheroot in a bucket of sand. “I had heard Mr. Hill had taken a liking to Lady Worthing’s maid.”

“It is almost as appalling as being around Thornhill.” Gabriel had thought to return to the ballroom, but Lexford appeared to require his company. “Do you suppose either of us will ever find what the others have? What Lord Hellsman found in Miss Tilney?”

Gabriel’s thoughts immediately went to Grace. He had thought he could forge a satisfying relationship with the lady, but those ill-placed plans had gone awry. “I do not expect such fortune. It is not common for those of our class. It is enviable to watch Kerrington with Lady Eleanor and Fowler with Miss Aldridge.”

“And Wellston with Miss Cashémere,” the viscount finished Gabriel’s thoughts. “I have dealt with the lady’s loss. There is no reason to avoid Lord Yardley’s name.”

Gabriel watched Lexford’s countenance in the dim light from the reflected sconces and the ballroom’s chandelier. He could detect no regret in his friend’s countenance. “And what of Miss Satiné?”

“Baron Ashton has taken his niece to the Continent to recover. As neither the Baron nor the lady has made inquiries as to my health, I must assume I am not a part of the lady’s future.” Lexford looked toward the ballroom. “I suppose we should return. We each have a wife to woo–assuming, of course, we find someone who we fancy. However, I admit my heart is not in the proceedings.”

Although he had purposely come to Town to seek a wife, Gabriel good-naturedly said, “Then let us find someone who wishes only to warm our beds.”

“That I can embrace.”

*

The Roses joined him for breakfast the following morning. Bel had consoled Mrs. Dryburgh after Lawrence Lowery’s engagement to Arabella Tilney had dimmed the glory of Annalee Dryburgh’s accepting of Viscount Ransing’s proposal.

“Did you know Lord Hellsman planned to propose to the American girl?” Bel asked suspiciously.

Gabriel lowered the newspaper behind which he had purposely hid. When his aunts were together at the table, his privacy took a beating. “I assure you Lord Hellsman’s appearance surprised even Sir Carter.” And to put a stop to the long line of questions he knew would follow, Gabriel added, “It served the Dryburghs justly. According to Sir Carter, the family has treated their American cousin horribly.” He sipped his tea before saying, “Miss Tilney is the Earl of Vaughan’s granddaughter. The lady’s mother was once a favorite in Queen Charlotte’s court. Miss Tilney is not without connections.”

Lía said, “I never liked the Dryburghs. I always found them quite boorish.”

Bel appeared offended, but she held her tongue. “I noticed you saw Lady Anthony to her carriage.” Bel’s hint was less than subtle.

“As I have told you previously, Tantine, I will not speak of my relationship with the lady,” Gabriel said through his irritation. He had not expected to find Lady Christina Anthony at the Grahams’ crush. Normally, Lady Anthony avoided the ton’s first tier. Gabriel supposed that fact was why he enjoyed the woman’s company. Without everyone’s close scrutiny, they could enjoy good conversation and satisfying beddings.

“I understand the lady’s husband returns from his Spanish post next week.”

Lord Anthony’s return had been a point of interest last evening. The viscount’s wife had insisted Gabriel call on her before the ambassador’s reappearance at Brant Hall. Gabriel had assured Lady Anthony he would do so. “It amazes me, Aunt, you arrived in London only three days prior, and, yet, you are abreast of the latest gossip.”

Lyn interjected, “When should we expect Mr. Rankin?”

Gabriel nodded his gratitude. He and Bel had had more than one argument over the “appropriateness” of his relationship with Lady Anthony. His aunt thoroughly disapproved of his associating with a married woman, but Gabriel had specifically chosen Lady Anthony because she would never place a claim on him. Christina understood her place in his life. He returned to his papers as Bel sent a footman for more toast. “We shall meet in Godown’s study at eleven.”

He thought to take exception with his aunt’s familiarity, but he had long ago relinquished his household to her. When he married, he would need to find a woman who could send the Duchess home to her dowager house and the position she had earned as Granville’s duchess. The thought made him realize he should compile a list of other qualities he considered essential in his future wife.

*

“I do not find your incompetence amusing, Rankin,” Gabriel charged heatedly. He paced the open area before his desk. The solicitor’s explanation had flabbergasted his usually jovial aunts.

Gabriel’s tone had evidently ruffled the man’s composure. “I assure you, Lord Godown, my employer’s firm has far from shirked its responsibilities. On the contrary, over the past two years, our firm has sent you three copies of your father’s will and its special codicil. In addition, it was read aloud before the other members of your family who are currently present.” The man nervously straightened the papers he had placed upon a nearby table.

Lyn recovered her voice before her sisters. “I assure you, Mr. Rankin, this is the first any of us were aware of the codicil’s conditions.”

Her twin added, “That is not entirely true.” Lía paused pointedly. “I recall Mr. Coles attempting to explain how Renard had constructed his will for a variety of contingencies.”

“What contingencies?” Bel demanded.

Lía blushed thoroughly. “We all know how Renard grieved over the possibility of losing Gabriel. Our brother spent his life nurturing his title–securing the name and the holding for his son, but when Templeton’s singularity forced Gabriel to flee England and to encounter unpredictable dangers, the previous Lord Godown accepted the fact the title could be in jeopardy if Gabriel did not return.” His aunt allowed the silence to speak of the anguish they had all known while Gabriel served abroad.

Gabriel grumbled, “I can accept part of what you say, Tantine, but why my eighth and twentieth birthday? Why not the thirtieth or later? Most gentlemen do not even consider marriage until they approach five and thirty or until their estate is solvent.”

Lyn understood the point, which remained unspoken by her twin. “Less than a week after you turn eight and twenty, your cousin Austin, the heir presumptive, celebrates his fortieth birthday. The longer you resist, the less likely your cousin could produce the required heir. The line depends upon your marrying and filling your nursery, Gabriel.”

In frustration, Gabriel jammed his fingers through his hair. “I comprehend the necessity of producing an heir, Aunt,” he hissed. “Yet, to have only eleven months to find a wife and produce a child is impossible. I might as well sign over the title to Lord Isaacs today.”

Rankin interrupted. “As the codicil is written, the estate holdings will be divided between Lord Godown and Lord Isaacs if Lord Godown marries before his next birthday. If a child should result in that marriage. Well, it is to be said if a child should be born before Lord Godown’s next birthday, then everything remains within the Crowden family. A marriage alone will secure the title for the Crowden family, but Lord Isaacs will inherit a portion of the holdings–the unentailed properties. Only with your death, my Lord, does Lord Isaacs become Marquis of Godown.”

Gabriel said harshly, “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Before Rankin could respond, Bel stood to end the discussion. “I believe we require more time to fully understand the previous Lord Godown’s intent.” She leveled a steely gaze on Gabriel and her younger sisters. “Mr. Rankin, although it may appear otherwise, please know we value Mr. Coles’s services and your attention to detail. Perhaps after we have time to truly consider our options, we shall additional questions. Might we continue to call on you in these matters?”

The man scrambled to his feet. “Of course, Your Grace.” He gathered his documents. With a bow, he added, “I am grieved my news has brought your family distress.”

Bel rang for a waiting footman. “We shall speak soon, Mr. Rankin.” She motioned for the servant to see the man from the house.

As soon as the door closed behind Rankin, Bel sank heavily into her seat. “I believe you should sit also, Gabriel,” she said firmly. “We must speak honestly.”

As he took the seat to which his aunt indicated, Gabriel had the distinct feeling the headmaster had called him to task. “What should I do?” he pleaded. The three women who shared the room with him had always served as his counselors. Even when he was a child, he had saved his toughest decisions for the Three Roses’ input.

“I have nothing against Austin,” Lía began, “but I would hate to see him walk away with half of what Renard accumulated through hard work and diligence. This title was little more than an afterthought before our brother took the reigns.”

“Moreover, Lord Isaacs will inherit from the English side of the family.” Lyn said aloud what they all were thinking.

“How do I prevent Isaacs from taking what belongs to our family?” Gabriel asked the silence that loomed among them.

Bel assumed the lead. “First,” she summarized what they knew, “you must take a wife. Preferably, before Christmastide.”

“That is a mere matter of weeks, Aunt,” Gabriel objected.

Bel leveled a deadly glare upon him. “You have postponed your duties long enough,” she insisted.

Lyn ventured, “What is the hurry, Bel? In reality, in order to secure the title and half of the holdings, Gabriel has months before he must marry.”

Bel reasoned, “But if the boy marries immediately, there is the slim chance he could bring the lady to child before the deadline.”

Gabriel thought to object, but his aunt’s granite gaze kept him silent.

Lía persisted, “Even if Gabriel beds his wife day and night for weeks, there is no guarantee the lady will conceive. I recall quite clearly how long it took you and Lord Damon…”

“My life with my late husband is not part of this discussion,” Bel snapped.

“But it is,” Lía assured. “Not a half hour prior, you were prepared to ask Gabriel about his sexual encounters.”

Gabriel groaned and sank further into the chair. “Heaven forbid!”

“As you insist with this line of conversation,” Bel said sarcastically, “Lord Damon and I enjoyed a loving relationship.”

“Someone please burn that image from my memory,” Gabriel pleaded as he buried his head in his hands.

Bel snorted her contempt. “Typical of a man to think he has a monopoly on the bedroom,” she said sweetly to irritate her nephew. “I believe you object too much, Godown. You are beginning to sound like an Englishman.”