Scoundrel (Lost Lords of Radcliffe Book 4) (29 page)

“No. He and I talked about Alice at length and I hate to sound rude, but you’re aware of what she’s like.”

They shared a conspiratorial grin.

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“She could never take care of herself or her girls so he expected me to provide for her.”

“Is she living in the Dower House?”

“Not yet. Heron Hall is very large, and even though she’s not much of a hostess, I don’t see any need for her to move until I wed. Then…we’ll have to make other arrangements. I’m certain my bride wouldn’t like to have such a young and beautiful female residing under the same roof.”

“Probably not,” Faith agreed, and she was disturbed to feel herself aghast at the notion of him marrying, of his bringing in a stranger to rule over Heron Hall. The prospect of his having a wife, of her having free rein to remodel or rebuild was infuriating.

But Faith was in no position to complain, and it wasn’t really her home anymore. She was like an unwanted guest, or perhaps the proverbial poor relative, who could be ordered to leave if she became a burden.

“I’m sorry to ask this,” she said, “because it will seem so mercenary but, by any chance, was I mentioned in my father’s Will?”

“No, you weren’t.”

“What about my mother’s jewels and other personal belongings?”

“The family jewels went to Alice.” She must have looked particularly despondent because he added, “She was Harold’s wife, Faith. Much as you and I were stunned by the union, she
was
his wife. He was within his rights to give her some baubles.”

“Of course he was.”

“And he didn’t think you’d ever return. Nor did he think you’d want us to send you any extravagant or pretty items, not when you’d taken a vow of poverty.”

“It would have been awkward I suppose, but I would have liked to have
something
.”

“Well, you’re welcome to snoop. You may find a few objects I can bear to part with.”

“Thank you.” She had to restrain herself so she didn’t march around the table and throttle him.

She was distracted by the crunch of carriage wheels in the front drive. Lambert glanced out the window and said, “Here’s Alice now. She’ll be so excited that you’ve arrived.”

As they waited for Alice to come inside, Lambert chatted about the funeral, about the businesses, and it was definitely clear there’d been no delay or difficulty with his stepping into her father’s shoes. Faith wasn’t paying much attention though.

Nothing had changed at Heron Hall precisely, yet everything had changed. Lambert owned the place, and Alice was her father’s widow. Where did Faith fit in that scenario?

They heard Alice in the vestibule, heard her speaking with a servant. Momentarily she entered the parlor, although it would have been more accurate to describe her as floating in. She was such an ethereal creature that she glided, always appearing as if her feet didn’t quite touch the ground.

Dressed in her mourning clothes, she was perfectly tragic. Her skin was very pale, and her white-blond hair enhanced her frail countenance, but swaddled as she was in black fabric, she seemed even more fragile and delicate.

“I have a surprise for you, Alice,” Lambert said. “Look who’s visited!”

“Yes, the butler told me.” Alice sauntered over to Faith, leaned down, and kissed her on the cheek. “Dearest Faith, we’re so glad you’re home. Is this a short holiday, or may I hope you’re here to stay?”

“I’m here to stay,” Faith replied.

“Have you left the convent?” Alice asked.

“Yes.”

“But why?”

“It’s a long story.” Faith wasn’t inclined to discuss any of it. “I’m back where I belong.”

That was probably laying it on too thick, but Alice hastily concurred. “You absolutely belong. Lambert and I need you, and in fact it was his suggestion that I write and beg you to return.” She smiled her childlike smile. “It’s been dreadful since Harold passed away. I’m so relieved I’ll have you to rely on during these awful times.”

Lambert stood and headed to the door. “I’ll leave you ladies to catch up.”

“Oh, Lambert,” Alice breathed, “must you go?”

“Yes, Alice. You know how busy I am. I’ll be home for supper.”

He strolled out, and Alice snuggled down next to Faith, close enough that their sides were touching. She stared at Faith with an expression of wide-eyed innocence that drove men wild, but annoyed Faith very much. She couldn’t abide Alice’s juvenile ways.

“He’s gone so we can talk,” Alice said.

“About what?”

“I’m so afraid.”

“Afraid? Why would you be?”

“Your father bequeathed all the assets to Lambert, and he’s obsessed with matrimony. What will happen to me when he marries?”

“Why would anything happen?”

“I didn’t receive a penny so I can’t move on or wed again.”

Alice had quickly snagged Faith’s father without a dowry so Faith didn’t consider it an obstacle. Alice had a knack for making men jump to help her, but she’d have to live in town for an extended period to meet any suitors.

Who would finance such a trip? Lambert perhaps, but it would be expensive. What if he refused to spend the money? How would Alice muster the funds to begin a new life? Shouldn’t she be able to remain at Heron Hall? She’d been wife to the prior owner and she’d birthed him two daughters.

“Lambert hasn’t started searching for a bride, has he?” Faith asked.

“No, but he mentions it constantly. With the estate settled, he’s quite the marital prize. There are dozens of girls in the neighborhood who would snatch him up. And if he went to London, well…”

“Yes, I suppose there would be an enormous flock willing to have him.”

“If he brought a wife home, Faith, she wouldn’t want me lurking.”

“No, I don’t imagine she would.”

“What am I to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Your position isn’t very secure either.”

“Lambert might kick me out?”

“Maybe not Lambert, but I’m positive his bride wouldn’t like you hanging on anymore than she’d like me.”

“True,” Faith mumbled.

“It seemed so logical when your father decided to have Lambert support me, but on further reflection it seems a terrible folly.”

Faith pondered the situation, then asked, “What if you wed Lambert yourself? A union between the two of you would solve many problems.”

Alice giggled. “Lambert would never wed me. I already suggested it. He’s rich now, and he treats me as if I’m a child. I could never be the wife he requires.”

“He said that?”

“In a kindly fashion, but I understood what he was telling me. I don’t blame him. I’m not very bright, and he’s so smart and capable. He deserves an educated spouse, one who can comprehend his trials and tribulations. It could never be me.”

“I could speak to him for you.”

“Please don’t. It would embarrass me if he found out we were gossiping about him behind his back.”

“I wouldn’t call it
gossiping
. I’d say we’re simply worried about the future.”

Alice gazed at Faith and sighed. “If only…”

“If only…
what
?” Faith inquired when Alice didn’t finish her sentence.

“If only
you
could marry Lambert.”

“Me?”

“Yes, he’s always been so fond of you, and you’re exactly the type of person he needs. You’re so different from me. You’d be perfect.”

“I have no idea why you’d think so.”

“Just the other day he was talking about how he regretted that he didn’t wed you all those years ago, how your father had wanted it so much.”

Faith couldn’t believe that Lambert was interested in her, but then Lambert was very vain. His ego probably hadn’t recovered from her rejecting him.

“He still regrets it?” Faith asked. “Seriously?”

“Yes, and my goodness, Faith. Wouldn’t it gall you to have him pick another woman, to bring her here and install her in your mother’s rooms? Wouldn’t that be horrid?”

“Yes, it would be.”

“You’d have to leave Heron Hall! We’d both have to leave! What about my girls? I realize you don’t know them very well, but they’re your sisters. What will become of them?”

Faith yearned to tell Alice that everything would be fine, that it would work out for the best.

Lambert wasn’t cruel, but a new bride would have no prior ties to Heron Hall, wouldn’t bother herself over Faith or Alice. A new bride might invite her own relatives into the house, might declare there was no space for Faith and Alice and her daughters. In that sort of quarrel, where would Lambert’s loyalties land?

Faith didn’t have to answer that question—because the answer was obvious. Faith and Alice would be disavowed.

Not for the first time, Faith cursed Chase Hubbard. If he’d wed her, if he’d craved the same future she’d craved, she’d have been in London, and Alice’s dilemma wouldn’t matter. Now Alice’s dilemma was Faith’s dilemma.

Alice was barely an adult and had no ability to act in a mature way. She could never manage her own affairs. Since she couldn’t take care of herself, she certainly couldn’t take care of her daughters, and it was gradually dawning on Faith that her little half-sisters were suddenly
her
burden rather than Alice’s.

Faith would have to be the one to ensure their security. How would she accomplish it?

“Lambert would be a wonderful husband,” Alice said. “I wish I was a suitable fiancée for him.”

So do I
, Faith mused. “We’ll figure out a solution. I’ll discuss it with him.” When it appeared Alice would protest, she quickly added, “Not about you or your concerns. I’m simply eager to learn his opinion on these issues.”

“And just think, Faith, if
you
wed him, it will keep the property in the family. You’d be mistress of Heron Hall—as your mother was mistress. I wasn’t able to replace her, but I’m betting you could.”

“It had to be hard to fill her shoes.”

“It was for me, but you’d be marvelous at it.” Alice stood and pulled Faith to her feet. “I’m weary of this depressing subject. Let’s visit your sisters so you can see how much they’ve grown.”

“Are they here?”

“Yes, with their nurse.”

Faith suffered a painful memory of her own childhood and being reared by nannies and governesses. Clearly it was lucky she’d come home. She would do all in her power to guarantee they were raised differently than she had been.

“They’re with their nurse?” Faith asked. “Why aren’t they with you?”

“With me?”

“Yes. I hate to have them foisted off on the servants.”

Alice frowned. “Surely you don’t expect me to watch them. Honestly, Faith, I’m in mourning.”

“Yes, you are, Alice. I understand.”

They walked to the stairs and climbed to the nursery. With each step, Faith felt as if a noose was circling her neck, being yanked tighter, drawing her in to prevent any escape. How would she ever leave?

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Chase rode his horse directly up to the front of the convent. At least he assumed it was the Sisters of Mercy convent. It wasn’t as if there was a bloody sign to tell a fellow where he was.

He dismounted and gaped up at the thick gray walls. The building appeared forbidding and sinister as if people had been locked in and starved to death. He was sure ghosts walked the halls.

He couldn’t believe this was where Faith had lived for eight years. How had she tolerated the dismal place? He understood that nuns kept themselves apart from the general population, but he hadn’t expected an edifice that might have been a prison or insane asylum.

There was a main gate that was big enough to drive a coach through, but it was tightly closed. There was a wooden window in the center, closed too. How did a person summon those on the inside?

He pondered the situation, searching for a bell or some other way to create a noise and alert the occupants that someone needed assistance. Finally he simply went over to the gate and pounded on it.

Of course there was no answer. He hollered and pounded repeatedly, and just as he was ready to give up the window was opened and a woman asked, “Yes? May I help you?”

She was a nun, wearing black clothes, her hair covered. He peered in and could see a bricked courtyard, a small tree behind her, and possibly a well for drawing water.

“Hello, Sister, I’m Chase Hubbard.”

“Hello, Mr. Hubbard.”

“I’ve traveled from London to speak with a novitiate. Faithful Newton? Might she be available?”

“We don’t allow our members to speak with outsiders, Mr. Hubbard.”

“It’s very important, and I’ve journeyed a great distance. Could you make an exception?”

“Is it an emergency?”

“Absolutely.”

“May I inquire as to what sort of emergency?”

He was certain if he admitted he wanted to propose marriage, the window would be slammed in his face.

“It’s her family,” he lied. “I bring dire tidings.”

“Wait here. I’ll have to talk to Mother Superior about it.”

“That’s fine.”

“It may take me a few minutes to locate her. Please be patient.”

The window was shut with a brisk snap, and he was left in the quiet, which he hated. He was in the country, surrounded by thick forest, and there were no houses, fences, or other signs of civilization.

He’d spent his life in the city with its crowds and noise and commotion. The deserted rural lanes and empty fields disturbed him very much. The villa in Africa was the only occasion he’d enjoyed solitude, but that had been a fantasy and had no bearing on reality. So he was definitely questioning his current circumstance.

Was he mad to proceed? He was about to find himself precisely where he’d never hoped to be—that being on his knees and begging a woman to wed him. If she said
yes
, he’d have to give up his bachelor days and don a leg-shackle. As a husband, no doubt he’d be driven insane before the first month was out. Or maybe his wife was the one who’d be driven insane.

Poor Faith! If he could convince her to have him, she’d wind up getting exactly what she wanted. Then they’d learn if she’d be happy.

The mysterious man who’d tracked him down in London was Mr. Digby, law clerk to a posh solicitor, Mr. Thumberton. Thumberton served the richest, most exalted families. They’d been executing probate on an estate named Oakhurst when they’d discovered it belonged to Chase. It had
always
belonged to Chase.