An Unlikely Father (16 page)

The lady took the proffered plate, then began to nibble on the sandwich with little enjoyment. She hated being outdoors, she hated being ignored, and most of all she hated children. With noticeable ire, she moved her gown away from Jamie, who’d pushed in to sit beside her with his ugly black mongrel. The boy chattered about the game as he devoured numerous sandwiches with such speed that Lady Cora hoped he might choke.

Instead, the boy was soon finished and asked his uncle if he might be excused. He dashed off to the water’s edge, where he found something to amuse himself.

As the adults ate, conversation was sporadic and confined to the excellence of the meal. Then the talk turned to India, and the gentlemen were full of questions about the countryside. But as first Delia, then Emily, spoke of things they remembered, the earl noted that Lady Cora became more sullen to be excluded from the conversation.

Oliver, remembering his promise to his grandmother to be a good host to Lady Cora and feeling guilt at having abandoned her during the game, asked her several questions about the Season. Soon the lady was in high gig, describing all the events she’d attended. She ended with, “I do adore London.”

Sir Ethan, fully agreeing with Delia that the marquess’s daughter would make a dreadful wife for the earl, decided to put the lady’s resolve to a test. “Then why, dear lady, have you come all the way into the country at the height of the Season?”

Lady Cora’s aqua gaze moved to the earl. With a coy giggle, she said, “I believe the countess had her reasons for issuing an invitation to my father. I am a great favorite of—”

“Uncle!” Suddenly Jamie interrupted the lady’s discourse as he plopped down beside her to announce, “Look what I have found.” He opened the box which formerly held his cricket bat and ball. Inside was a veritable army of green frogs in all shapes and sizes. As the curious Kali bounded forward to inspect the treasure, all the creatures attempted to escape the confines of their new prison. The frogs leapt out in all directions, landing in the food, on the blanket and on the ladies.

Ever ready to do her duty, Kali pounced on the nearest frog, sending plates and cups flying. For a moment it seemed as if the blanket were alive with green leapers. “Get away, get away!” Lady Cora shrieked.

Emily grabbed several of the frogs, trying to keep them from jumping on the terrified woman. “Don’t be afraid, my lady. They won’t hurt you.”

But Lady Cora wasn’t listening, only waving her arms and screeching hysterically. To everyone’s surprise, she exhibited more agility than one would imagine from her earlier inactivity as she jumped to her feet. The lady swore with the expertise of a groom even while she batted at two frogs which clung to her gown stubbornly. Before anyone could utter a word of warning, the lady staggered backward and fell into the lake.

“Lady Cora!” Oliver was on his feet and in the water in a flash, fearful the lady might come to harm as she sank under the murky depths. But no sooner had he helped her to her feet than she jerked her arm free and stomped out of the water with drooping blond curls plastered to her wet face, her once white gown now a grimy green. She came to stand face-to-face with what she saw as her tormentor, Jamie Carson.

“Everything is ruined! This is all your fault, you little monster.”

With that she drew back her arm and prepared to cuff the boy. But Emily was there before her, grabbing her wrist. Quite forgetting that she still held a great green frog, she pointed the writhing creature in the lady’s face, indignantly saying, “You will not hurt this child, Lady Cora, as long as I am present.”

On seeing the frog dangling inches from her nose, Lady Cora squealed and jumped back.

From behind the stunned group, Lady Hawksworth’s angry voice pierced the afternoon air. “How dare you try to strike my great-grandson?” All eyes turned to the countess and her companion, Miss Millet, who’d come down to visit the picnickers.

Lady Cora, her rage so deep, that she gave little thought to the circumstances, glared at her ladyship. “Look at my gown! ’Tis ruined and all you care about is this hell-begotten puppy.” Then she rounded on the earl, who’d moved back to the shore. “I will have you know, sir, that I cannot abide all this rural domesticity. It is well enough to visit one’s estate on rare occasions, but London is where one should spend one’s time.”

Oliver was heartily tired of Lady Cora. Seeing the outrage and distaste on his grandmother’s face, he decided he might at last take action. “You, my lady, may return to your beloved London with my compliments, but I fear that my new responsibilities require that I spend a great deal of time with my delightful young wards in the country.”

Lady Cora’s face suddenly went ghostly pale as she realized the depths of her mistake. She turned to her one ally, Lady Hawksworth, but the old lady’s face appeared as cold as granite. In that instant she knew all was lost. Straightening her back, she announced, “Pray excuse me, but I never remain where I am utterly bored.”

With great arrogance, she marched away from the group, but the squashing sound made by her shoes ruined the drama of her exit.

Oliver looked at Emily, who stood with her arm protectively about Jamie. He knew in that instant that he hadn’t lied to Lady Cora. This was where he wanted to be. London and all the women of his past no longer held any appeal.

But would he feel the same if it were only he and the children? As his gaze roved over her lovely face, now framed with golden-brown curls loosened by the rigors of the cricket game, he suddenly realized that he wanted Emily Collins to remain a permanent part of the picture.

His grandmother interrupted his thoughts as she moved to stand beside him. “Can you forgive my having mistaken that female for a proper lady? I shudder to think what kind of mother she will make if Halcomb is ever able to bring some unsuspecting fool up to scratch.”

He leaned down and kissed his grandmother’s flushed cheek. “As long as you agree to leave my affairs in
my
hands.”

The lady knew exactly what he referred to and nodded her head in agreement. Then she turned to Emily. “Dear Miss Collins, I cannot thank you enough for protecting my little Jamie from that woman.”

Emily was quite unprepared for the lady’s change of attitude with regard to her. “My lady, I assure you that the children are as dear to Delia and me as they are to your family.”

Jamie, distracted by Lady Cora’s near assault, suddenly remembered that all his captives were escaping back to the lake and began to dash about to return as many as possible and confine them in the box. Soon everyone, save the countess and Miss Millet, had joined him. Afterward, Oliver struggled to convince the lad that the frogs would be better outdoors than in the nursery and was forced to appeal to Emily and Delia. A compromise was soon found. The frogs would be placed in the small fountain in the knot garden near the castle for the time being.

Sir Ethan, eyeing his friend’s sodden condition, announced that the children would be in need of a new guardian if Oliver continued to stand around wearing wet clothing in the cool air.

The earl offered his grandmother and Miss Millet each an arm and led them back to the castle as Emily and Delia helped the children gather their hats, new toys and pets. Sir Ethan remained behind to escort the younger ladies.

While the children ran ahead, the baronet offered an arm to each lady. As they made their way back to the castle, Delia quietly thanked the gentleman for helping arrange the picnic and thus saving the children from having Lady Cora as an aunt.

Sir Ethan laughed. “Oh, I had little to do with it, lass. ’Twas the lady who did in her own chances to be the new countess. I was hesitant to intrude into my friend’s affairs, but I cannot say I am unhappy at the results. One can see she will make a dreadful wife.”

Emily couldn’t contain her curiosity. “How did Lord Hawksworth come to contemplate such a termagant for a bride?”

The baronet considered the question for a moment. Not thinking it proper to discuss his friend’s private affairs with others, he merely said, “On the surface, the lass has what most gentlemen in Society want, Miss Collins. Lineage, beauty and of course the one thing that might make up for the lack of everything else—a fortune.”

The words sent a cold chill down Emily’s spine. Was her fortune going to be some prize that gentlemen vied for, caring little about her? The prospect certainly made a Season in London less appealing. Perhaps Delia was correct; the fewer people who knew of her inheritance, the better.

They reached the castle where the earl, still in his wet clothes, awaited them alone, the countess having retired to her rooms. There was a look in his eyes that sent her heart racing.

“May I have a word with you, Miss Collins?”

Sir Ethan suggested that he and Delia see the children back to their nurse. Emily was aware of the worry in her friend’s eyes at the prospect of leaving her alone with the earl.

“I shall only be a moment.” Then she followed the earl into the library.

He moved near the fire, and Emily joined him there. When his gaze met hers, time seemed to stand still. There was a magnetism in his blue eyes that sent her senses reeling. Their mesmerized gazes remained locked, and the only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire. The muted conversation of passing servants in the hall seemed to bring the earl from his trance, but there was a huskiness in his voice. “I merely wanted to thank you for what you did in protecting my nephew.”

As every nerve in her body seemed to tingle at his look, Emily struggled to keep her thoughts on the conversation. “My lord, I hope you are not too disappointed to discover Lady Cora’s shortcomings.”

Oliver was amazed at the depth of his feelings for the woman before him. He struggled to keep his desire for Emily in check. He wanted to crush her to him and devour her, but she was not some practiced mistress, only an innocent in the ways of love. Instead he gave in to impulse only to the extent of tracing his finger along her jawline before lifting her chin. “I discovered a great deal more than that today, my dear.”

Emily’s heart raced as she took his meaning; then the earl’s mouth covered hers. She knew she should be outraged that he’d taken such a liberty, but instead she surrendered herself freely to the passion in his kiss. She’d tried to keep from falling victim to his charms, but when his lips touched hers, she knew she was lost. She was in love with Oliver Carson.

A knock sounded at the door. Startled, the pair drew apart. Emily again gazed up into the blue eyes of the earl and trembled, but she wasn’t certain if it was from fear of her own raging emotions or that he didn’t love her and was merely amusing himself, as rakes were wont to do.

Hawksworth bade the intruder to enter in a hoarse tone, and a servant stepped into the library to inform his lordship that his grandmother had ordered him out of his wet clothes at once or he would fall ill.

Emily was suddenly embarrassed at her wanton conduct. “You must do as your grandmother bids, my lord.” With that she hurried from the room, her thoughts in a whirl.

Oliver cursed his grandmother for once again interfering in his affairs, but went up to get more comfortable even as his thoughts dwelled on Emily Collins.

The distracted earl scarcely had thirty minutes to change before he learned that Lord Halcomb’s carriage was at the door and about to depart. Glad to be rid of the pair, but knowing his duty as a host, he hurried down to exchange stilted farewells. He might have saved himself the time, for neither the lady nor her father was in a mood fit for man or beast.

With an angry shout, Lord Halcomb ordered his coachman to spring ’em, and the coach bowled away from Hawk’s Lair. Bedows closed the door as he muttered, “Good riddance,” to which Oliver silently agreed, but he merely informed the butler to tell Sir Ethan he might be found in the library.

The earl settled behind his desk, but was in no humor to look at the accounts Mr. Grant had left. His mind returned to the earlier kiss. He was in love with the contrary, managing Emily Collins. The kiss had only confirmed what he knew—he wanted her. He had wanted her from her early days at the castle, but now it was more than mere physical desire. She had stirred his blood as no other woman ever had. True, it was often in anger, but it had only made him determined to gain the upper hand in the next encounter. Life would never run smoothly with Emily. He was certain they would argue over most matters, but he wanted her to be his wife, to share his life and the lives of his wards.

At the thought of proposing to Emily, his mind moved to Lady Hawksworth and all her plans. There could be little doubt that despite his grandmother’s softening attitude, she would be resistant to a female who lacked the aristocratic lineage and vast fortune of Lady Cora. While Oliver knew little of Emily’s history save that she came from a genteel family from Warwickshire, he’d gleaned the information that she was an orphan whose late uncle had run an indigo plantation in the India. Doubtless the heirs had sent her packing upon inheriting, but she seemed reluctant to speak of other members of her family.

The sounds of a carriage arriving at the castle brought Oliver from his musing. Concerned that the marquess had returned for some reason, the earl rose and opened the library door, prepared to immediately handle any matter concerning Halcomb or his daughter.

Unobserved, he watched in amazement as a rail-thin man with blunt features, who was dressed in an ill-fitting coat of brown superfine, pushed his way past the butler. A rotund little woman in a dark green traveling gown and two young people—the elder male and the other female—hovered in the doorway as if fearful to cross the threshold. The intrusive gentleman scanned the contents of the Great Hall as if he were taking an
inventory before he querulously announced, “I demand to see the Earl of Hawksworth at once, my good man.”