Her Impetuous Rakehell

Her Impetuous Rakehell

Aileen Fish

©2015 Aileen Fish

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Acknowledgements

Many thanks go to Vanessa McBride for choosing the name of Louisa’s puppy. Your suggestion was exactly the form of torture he needed!

Chapter One

May, 1812

London, England

Laurence Pierce glared at the young man cowering just beyond reach and looked once more at the note the boy had brought. The written words shattered the comfortable world he called his life.

Lord Oakhurst has died. You must see me at your earliest convenience.

His cousin was dead. As Laurence’s stomach sank, his hand shook, and he lifted his gaze to the wide-eyed boy waiting to carry a response to his solicitor.

The men at the table where Laurence sat ceased their joking and laughter, setting their cards on the table.

“Is something amiss?” asked Sir Jasper Johnston.

“Quite so.” Laurence swiped a hand across his tired eyes. “It would appear I am the new Baron Oakhurst.”

Someone coughed. “My condolences.”

Amid the murmurs from those around him, Laurence would swear he heard the distinct sound of his cousin’s laughter. Yes, it was quite a joke, that he would outlive his cousin. He, who had no property to his name, no one relying on him for an income, and no one to account to but himself. He’d planned to leave his money to his cousin, when the time came. Yet Oakhurst had the nerve to die first.

The lack of sleep from playing cards all night at the club hit him hard. His head was filled with wool and his eyes burned. At least, that’s what he blamed it on‑the lack of sleep. He stacked his cards neatly on the table in front of him. “Well, lads, I fear I must call it a night. Or a morning.”

“You owe me another go,” Lord Haymore said gruffly. When the others glared his way, he quickly added, “Another time.”

“Yes, another time.” Laurence rose and stretched. This nightmare couldn’t end soon enough to suit him.

After walking the blocks to his solicitor’s office, he stepped inside.
 
A young lady in rather simple gown sat on a bench in the far corner, her arm around a sniffling child. Ignoring them, Laurence approached the neat desk near the door. “Mr. Armistead sent for me,” he told the man’s secretary.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Pierce. He said to send you right in.” The younger man led the way to Armistead’s office.

The small room was lined with bookshelves, which, along with the massive carved wooden desk dwarfed the older man. “Do you always keep such early hours?” Laurence sat in one of the chairs.

“And a fine morning to you, too, Pierce. Or should I say Oakhurst?” Armistead was altogether too cheerful for this time of day.

“I really wish you wouldn’t. I’m hoping this is all an ill-conceived idea of amusement. Who put you up to it? Lumley? I can see where he’d think this was amusing.”

Armistead’s face grew somber. “I’m afraid it’s true. Lord and Lady Oakhurst were both lost in the uprising in Huddersfield.”

Laurence shook his head at the news. “The millworkers who protested the machines. I read about it in the papers. I didn’t see Oakhurst mentioned, nor his mill.”

“It was one of three burned.”

Laurence forked his fingers through his hair. What a horrible end to all the work Oakhurst had put into his business, not to mention the loss of life. “You said Lady Oakhurst died also? What was she doing at the mill?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have the details. It would seem Lady Oakhurst left a note with her child’s nursemaid with instructions on whom to contact should anything happen. The instructions must have been misconstrued, as the woman arrived here this morning rather than sending someone. We hadn’t even had word of your cousin’s passing.”

“She came here? From Huddersfield? What about the child? Who is caring for her?” The chit must not have the brains of a hen, to take off across the length of England with a child in tow, and no one expecting her visit.

“They are here. You couldn’t miss them when you walked in.”

“I wasn’t aware of my status as a guardian at the time, so I paid them little attention.” He’d never met the girl, his cousin’s daughter. She must be three or four by now. “What am I to do with her? I know nothing about raising a child. She’s too young for school. She should have remained at home. I can’t take her to Albany, they’d bar me from the place.”

“Shall I enquire into a more suitable home for you?”

“I don’t wish to move. I enjoy my life as it is now.”

“Your life now includes your ward. There’s the Oakhurst estate to think about, as well. I doubt there’s enough left of the mill to be concerned with.” He cleared his throat and tugged at his cravat. “From what I’ve read about the uprisings, that is. Horrible thing. With all our soldiers divided between the Peninsula and the Colonies, there is no one to maintain order in our villages.”

A heavy lump settled in Laurence’s gut. While he wasted his days‑and nights‑with gaming and horse races, Oakhurst was struggling to keep his business and estate earning some sort of profit. Laurence had tried at times to offer a gift or a loan to help, but his cousin was too proud. He should have done more.

Too late now to help Lord and Lady Oakhurst, but not their child. She deserved better than to be sent back to an empty house to live with servants. His life had been much like that until he’d gone to school, where he met David Lumley and his older brother, Adam, Lord Knightwick. When they went home on holiday, they took Laurence with them to Bridgethorpe Manor. Those were happy times, raising a ruckus, riding horses, swimming in the pond. He smiled just thinking about it.

The decision was easy. He would provide as pleasant a life for his ward as he possibly could. The only question was how he would do so. Oh, and he had one other question. “What is the girl’s name?”

“Louisa. Her nursemaid is Molly. They are both quite distressed and quite exhausted.”

When their business concluded, Laurence went to speak to his young cousin. He squatted in front of her. Her gown was clean but simple, a plain off-white linen with a pink ribbon tied around her waist. Her wavy red hair was tied at the crown with a matching ribbon, but several locks around her face had come free.

The poor girl snuggled closer to her nursemaid but made no sound.

“Louisa, my name is Laurence. I knew your father and mother. They were lovely people. They have asked me to take care of you, which I will try my best to do.”

She peered up at him from behind a lock of hair, but didn’t speak.

A single bag sat on the floor beside the bench. Laurence spoke to the maid. “Where are her trunks?”

The wide-eyed, mousy-haired woman shrank back into herself. “I didn’t pack any, milord. I feared for our safety and left straight away.”

Closing his eyes, Laurence kept his frustration to himself. He had no clue what the pair might have experienced. It would accomplish nothing to make himself a villain from the start. Rising, he held his hand out to the child. “Come then, let us see to your needs.”

Louisa hesitated a moment before taking his hand, then walked quietly beside him to the street where he found the hired carriage Armistead had sent for on Laurence’s behalf. The only question now was where to take the child.

~*~

Lady Hannah Lumley turned the page of her novel, sitting in the morning room passing the time until Miss Amelia Clawson arrived so the girls could make a few calls on their friends. Mama had rushed off more than an hour ago to Lady Usherwood’s bedside, upon hearing her friend had taken ill.

It was difficult for Hannah to keep her mind on the printed words, when there was so much she wished to speak to Amelia about. The Season had just begun, but already she had a handful of young men sending posies each morning following a ball, or inviting her to ride in Hyde Park. She was determined to choose a husband this year. Her sisters, Patience and Madeleine, were eagerly looking forward to their turns in London, and it was a bit much to expect Mama to keep rein on three young ladies.

Not that any of them caused trouble. When they could help it.

She heard a knock at the front door, but it was still to early for Amelia. She guessed it was likely some gentleman leaving his card so he might call later. A moment later, when Coombs entered the morning room, she looked up at the butler in surprise. “Yes?”

“Mr. Pierce is here, my lady.”

“None of my brothers are here. Did you tell him to try Knightwick’s rooms at Albany?”

“It’s Lady Bridgethorpe he wishes to see.”

“Mama? Whatever could he want with her?”

“I’m certain I have no guess, my lady.”

“Of course not. Where is Mr. Pierce?” She placed a ribbon in the book to mark her page before setting it down.

“In the drawing room, my lady. Shall I send for Nan to join you?”

“There’s no need, Coombs. It’s only Laurence. He’s as close to a brother as any of my own.”

Hannah caught the narrowing of eyelids as Coombs showed his disapproval, and guessed he’d have Nan join her in the drawing room as quickly as possible. Such a fuss over a family friend.

Entering the large room at the front of the house, she saw Laurence standing near the window and broke into a smile. She hadn’t seen him since David and Joanna’s wedding in March. “I’m so glad you stopped by.”

As she cleared the doorway, she noticed the young woman and child seated quietly on the settee. “Hello,” Hannah said in their direction. She turned back to Laurence for an introduction.

“Lady Hannah.” His slight bow must have been due to the others in the room. Her family had known him so long, no formality was needed. “Is your mother due to return soon?”

He made no mention of the two who had obviously arrived with him. The woman didn’t appear to be his type, none of the flash and heavy perfumes he seemed to prefer. She was rather plain, her gown more like a servant’s. The child was pretty enough, and her gown was of finer cloth than the woman’s. Remembering Laurence’s question, she said, “I’m not certain. She is visiting a sick friend.”

His lips pressed together and he glanced at the two strangers. “I see. I hoped to seek her advice.”

“How unusual. Perhaps I could help?”

“I doubt it. I’m afraid my dilemma is beyond your experience.”

Hannah sat in the chair nearest to Laurence and waited for an explanation.

“I received some shocking news this morning.”

“That would explain why you are calling so early in the day,” she teased. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you before four o’clock.”

His lips smiled, but the humor didn’t spread over his features.

Hannah frowned. Something was wrong. “What has happened?” she asked softly.

“Lord and Lady Oakhurst, have passed away. You see before you the new Baron Oakhurst.”

“You?” As the word escaped, she realized how crass that sounded. “Forgive me. I am sorry for your loss. It must be quite a shock for you.”

The child uttered a noise somewhere between a hiccup and a cry. “I want my mommy.”

Realization hit Hannah and she turned to Laurence for confirmation. “Is this your cousins’ daughter?”

He nodded. “Louisa, come meet Lady Hannah.”

The little girl looked at the woman beside her before walking closer. She stopped a few feet away and dropped into a practiced curtsy.

Hannah smiled. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Louisa. Miss Pierce, is it?”