Always His Earl (3 page)

George always had to direct the play. He was an earl, a titled lord, and every bit the man who owned his responsibility. There had been a time when Myles felt George’s love and trust in every glance. Their connection broke through the duty and public guise, but it was a distant memory that he longed for.

Still, if his sister had to run into the hands of anyone, Myles was grateful she’d made it to George. No one would do more for her protection. Myles could try, but he was not as well connected and had no house in town. Owing George for the care of his estate was no longer the sum total of their debt. Myles owed George for his sister’s life.

A
s the carriage rolled on, George finally let himself think about his history with Myles for a few minutes. He could hear old Mr. Harris accusing George of using Myles, of tempting him to foul things and potentially ruining the Harris family. Myles would be master of Thrushton Manor and so close it’d be a thorn in George’s side.

The attraction and memories remained, but the time had left George bitter and hurt. If what the late Mr. Harris said wasn’t true, why hadn’t Myles ever made any effort to contact George?

After years without a word, George had come to believe that he’d seduced Myles and taken advantage of him. Old Harris insisted the influence of a future earl kept Myles from ever saying no. To George, it was youthful experimenting by friends turning into love. As a child in the country, he never fully understood the power of his rank until later. Now Myles didn’t seem to fear George but there was unease between them.

Myles looked only a little worse for years of salt air. The dark-blond hair was cropped short, and his blue eyes appeared so innocent. His tanned skin was the only indication Myles was a man with a former profession. It killed George to keep his distance, but it was simply pent-up lust. The anger and resentment burned deep. He had to be sensible and work with Myles for Claire’s good. Fighting about anything would be indulging themselves. Claire could be dying; nothing else mattered.

The carriage stopped, and a footman quickly opened the door.

“Take Mr. Harris’ trunk to any made-up room. Have one of the valets unpack him,” George ordered.

“Yes, my lord,” the footman replied.

Davis walked up. “The doctor is with her, my lord. Your brother is stalking the halls.”

“Good. Mrs. Blake is with them?” George asked.

The butler took the coats and hats. “Yes. We have a guest?”

“Lieutenant Myles Harris, Lady Philips’ brother. He’ll be staying with us for the duration in London. He’s just out of the navy, so see that he has everything he needs. It might be a lot.”

“Of course.” Davis bowed slightly to Myles.

“Any sign of the baron?” George asked.

“Not a whisper. No maid or footman has come looking for her either. I did have the blood washed off the front door. We’re keeping it quiet.” Davis pulled his coat back to reveal a pistol. “Safely and carefully, my lord.”

“Good man.” George nodded and spotted the doctor coming down the stairs.

“Doctor Wallis, how is she?”

The older man with a potbelly sighed. “Lord Thistledown, I will not soften the situation. Her condition is very grave. The bruising will take a little time to show properly. It’s my opinion that she’s been very badly beaten. Her wounds have been cleaned but the true damage is on the inside. We can’t move her.”

George almost smiled. “We have no reason to move her. I’ve invited her brother to stay. Lieutenant Harris, Doctor Wallis. Lady Philips will be our guest and receive the

best care. Come as often as you think best to look in on her.”

Myles moved closer to the doctor. “How bad is she? Honestly?”

The doctor glanced up at Basil who stood on the stairs. His eyes were bloodshot. “I’ve given instructions to Mrs. Blake about feeding and washing. The woman is a capable nurse. If Lady Philips is strong enough, I daresay she’ll survive. Don’t move her. She must heal. I believe a rib may be broken as well as other damage we can’t see.” Myles started toward the stairs.

“Thank you Doctor.” George walked him to the door as Davis gave the doctor his hat. “What won’t you tell her brother or mine?”

“It’s bad enough that I found a heel mark on her stomach. She is not and was not pregnant, I checked. To leave a heel impression, the strike was severe. There were no stab wounds; I don’t think he meant to kill her. She’ll be weak and bedridden for several days. I’m very sorry for her.” He put his hat on. “I’ll be by in the morning.”

“Her husband did this. She was awake briefly and told us. Please, if you can conceal her whereabouts we’d greatly appreciate it. If anyone asks, you’re here to see Basil.” George prayed this doctor had a soul.

“I agree. Your brother has a nasty stomach ailment. Hot tea, broth, and dry toast until he’s better. No liquor and plenty of bed rest are in order.” The doctor picked up his bag. “I’ll check on him tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” George said.

“A good man.” Davis indicated after closing the door.

“Very good. Assemble the key servants in the hall.”

Davis’ eyebrows rose. “Any message you need to recount, my lord, I’m happy to do so.”

“I know, Davis. And I trust you like you’re my own father. One simply must say some things directly. I don’t need every hall boy to know the details, but I won’t lie to men I’m asking to defend her.” George patted Davis’ shoulder.

“Mrs. Blake should be with her,” Basil protested.

George walked up to his brother. “It’ll be fine, Basil. You need to stay with her for a few moments. That’s all. I need to ensure her safety.” Nodding, Basil retreated upstairs.

“You can go and sit with her too,” George said to Myles who was at the top of the stairs.

“I want to see the servants. To know them.” Myles headed back down.

George saw the fear and anger bottled up in Myles. There was no room for tempers now. It was Myles’ place to defend Claire’s honor. However, Myles had no home in London or staff in place to handle any of the issues at hand.

Within minutes, the key servants took their place in the hall. Most looked bewildered.

“I’m sorry to disturb your routine. As some of you know, we have a very special guest. Lady Claire, as you will refer to her, is very ill and not to be moved under doctor’s orders. Her husband is the man who attacked her. If Lord Philips shows up here, you are to put him in my study and guard the door like he’s a vicious murderer.” George saw the frowns and the confusion. “She will not be moved until she is well and the doctor permits it. Lady Claire grew up on a neighboring estate and is like a sister to me. You are to treat her as such. This is her brother, Lieutenant Harris just returned from the navy. He will take charge of Thrushton Manor soon. He’ll stay with us as long as Lady Claire does.”

“Whatever you want, my lord. We’re ready,” George’s valet agreed.

“Thank you, I know you are. One man will be on guard at all times and that means armed. During the day, Davis will do. I want a shotgun at the backdoor just in case and a footman about who is prepared to use it. At night, one of the valets will take guard and the hall boy in the back must be ready. No one will break in and take Lady Claire.”

“Is that really a danger, my lord? The law is on his side,” Davis said.

“You’re very right, Davis. The law is on his side, so when I refuse him, based on the doctor’s orders, he likely will be very angry. He may demand to see her, which he will not! This is my house, and she fled here for safety. We will not fail her. You’ve all served this family well. I’m asking a great deal, I know. There will be bonuses for your efforts and your silence. Is this a problem for anyone?” George asked.

“You have our loyalty, my lord.” Davis bowed his head.

“I wouldn’t have said as much to you, if I didn’t trust every one of you. Thank you.” George headed up the stairs.

“My lord, please wait.” Mrs. Blake walked down to him.

Pausing on the stairs, George looked at her.

“Your brother is very upset. I’m worried he’ll do something foolish,” she said softly.

“I’ll handle him.”

“There’s something else. I didn’t want to say in front of him; it’d only stir things.” Mrs. Blake eyed Myles.

“It’s fine, Mrs. Blake. Lieutenant Harris is as trusted as my own brother and much less impulsive generally. You may speak freely.” George had missed Myles so much he’d pushed his feelings down long ago. Apparently, they’d never truly gone away. At present, they threatened to break loose and drive him mad. Claire’s situation, however, made all of their nonsense seem childish.

She took a deep breath. “There are cuts on Lady Claire’s hands. The only other wound is her lip that she bit, and her head, which is cut. The doctor believed both happened in a fall.”

“He said she was beaten. You think the cuts significant?” George asked.

Mrs. Blake lifted a shoulder. “They’re not large. She may have cut herself getting here. Or perhaps she had to defend herself with something sharp. A dagger. A broken bottle. We can only imagine what happened.”

“What does it matter how she cut her hands?” Myles asked in frustration.

George saw his housekeeper’s mind whirling with the fear only a woman would have. She had a point.

“Tomorrow, you will find an extra maid to fill the gap. She’ll keep to the entry-level floor so you can spare someone trusted up here. We’ll know about Lord Philips by then. If you hear something, fine. If the doctor comes by, he may know. Don’t inquire. I don’t want any suspicion coming back here. Thank you,” George said.

Mrs. Blake bobbed her head and hurried ahead to join Basil.

When George tried to proceed, Myles grabbed his arm. “What the hell was that about?”

“The maid? We’ll need more help.” George played the fool and pulled his arm from Myles’ grasp. The touch of an old lover only caused pain.

“The wounds. Philips. Inquiring and suspicion. You won’t keep things from me.” He glared.

“If your sister killed her husband, even to save her own life, what do you expect will happen to her? The law will call her a murderer. Her husband will be the victim in the newspapers. She’ll rot in jail.” George shook his head. “All we can do is wait. Let’s go and see her.”

* * * * *

M
yles walked into the room and saw Basil sitting there like her husband. That was exactly the future Myles and George had expected for their younger siblings. It would’ve made things so much easier. Bonded by marriage and business, George would have heirs through Basil, and no one would question about his close friendship with Myles. Cursing his father to a deeper level of hell, Myles forced himself to look at Claire.

The petite blonde had always been as delicate as their mother. Prone to fainting spells and nosebleeds, Claire was treated like a doll. Basil was the only one who ever tempted her to forget about acting like a little lady and run when they were young.

She looked battered and older than her twenty-four years. Myles went around the other side and touched her cheek. Guilt and shame hit him. If not for years of overcoming seasickness, he’d have been ill right then.

“Is she in pain?” Myles asked.

“The doctor gave her laudanum. I have more for later. We can wake her with smelling salt, but the doctor said to let her rest until morning. We’ll get enough broth and laudanum in her to keep her comfortable. She won’t starve or suffer,” Mrs. Blake replied.

“Good, thank you.” He pulled a chair up to the bed and sat.

“You should’ve come back sooner,” Basil said.

George cleared his throat. “Let’s not start snapping at one another. If any of us had known this was going on, we’d have found a way to free her. We must work together to solve this. Like it or not.”

“Preventing that wedding would’ve been better,” Basil mumbled.

“I agree. I assure you, Basil; I wasn’t consulted. My father and brother obviously became even more tyrannical once he had me out of the way.” Myles wasn’t a seventeen-year-old any longer. He had gone from being a naval officer to a wealthy landowner, and it had yet to truly sink in. He could handle war and death. Part of him longed for the dream he’d had in his youth. He wanted to be safe under George’s protection and love.

Basil stared at Claire’s hands, which were wrapped up like a mummy’s. “She had to defend herself.”

Myles looked at George. Steady enough not to rush out into the night and endanger anyone’s life, Myles worried that Basil was still too blinded by his passion. They both loved Claire, but how brotherly love differed from passionate love had never been so clear to him.

“Claire could’ve cut herself on her trip here. We don’t know how she made it from her house. We can’t assume things,” George said.

“You’re a fool. I’ll kill him.” Basil stood on shaky legs. “I’ll murder Philips in his bed.”

“No!” George stepped in front of his brother. “You will not.”

“He deserves it. That monster.” Basil pushed on George.

Myles stood. “If anyone in this room has the right, it’s me. We won’t act rashly. Not tonight. Let’s make sure Claire is safe first. Justice will be there in the morning.”

“Myles is right. No one is taking any action tonight. Basil, what if she did defend herself? What if she succeeded too well? Philips might be dead. You running over there like a madman will only show the authorities exactly where to look for her. They’ll arrest her.”

“They wouldn’t.” Basil glared.

Myles and George waited for Basil to think through his options.

“Hell! What do we do?” Basil asked them both.

“We don’t go over there. You and I stay here no matter what. We can’t let any hint of her being here out in public. I’ve handled the doctor. He’ll say you are ill to cover his visits, so you can’t go out at all, or you’ll ruin the ruse. Myles can call on his sister tomorrow and examine the situation without suspicion. We’ll find out if Philips is alive then. If he’s dead, Claire is in much more trouble. We’ll take different action depending on the truth, but we can’t change it now. Go get some food before you fall down.”

“I won’t leave her.” Basil scrutinized her face, anxious to see improvement.