Earl on Fire

Chapter 20

Twenty

“. . . and if I am the man who buys it and doesn’t use it, it is any bauble your heart desires . . .”

— The Concubine and Her King. Unpublished MS.

Susannah shifted her feet back and forth, wrung her hands, tucked loose pieces of hair back behind her ears, but Henry was still, unmoving.

Even in the sunshine, he was made of ice.

In the last hour, she had watched him resurrect the walls they had torn down together, become the frosty Earl of Ashthorpe once more.

It’s not a battle, she wanted to tell him. It’s not a war. It’s your son.

A rider had come from the gatehouse ahead of Charles’ coach, so Henry and she were able to await Charles at the front of the house. She did not know if Henry wanted her with him, he had not asked her to accompany him, but she was convinced he needed her there.

She knew he needed her there.

The coach arrived, and a blond young man—looking so much like Henry in his portrait as a lieutenant—climbed out, followed by a middle-aged man carrying a satchel.

The young man stared at Henry.

“Charles,” Henry said. There was no warmth in that single word.

“My lord.” The young man was equally icy.

“Lord Delamere, this is,” Henry gestured to Susannah, “my friend, Miss Beasley.”

A curt bow.

Susannah murmured, “My lord,” and curtsied.

“Lord Ashthorpe. Mr. Crompton, my solicitor,” Charles said.

A brisk nod from Henry. “I have met Mr. Crompton. Three years ago. After your brother’s death.”

“My lord. Miss Beasley,” Mr. Crompton said.

“You . . . you look well, Charles.”

Charles appeared unmoved by Henry’s very tepid overture.

Say more, Susannah urged in her head.

The secretary appeared, framed by the enormous doorway. “Her ladyship grows impatient. She invites you to join her as she does not wish to miss any of the conversation.”

Charles paled. “Lady Chalfont is here.”

He must have steeled himself to see his father but not the marchioness. He turned accusing eyes on Henry.

“She came to tell me your plans,” Henry said.

“I will not be hindered in this. The law is on my side.”

“Yes. It is.”

Henry’s admission did not soften the young man as Susannah had hoped. Instead, there was a sneer on his face.

“Yes, you always were about the law when it came to children and whom they belonged to.”

The secretary came out of the doorway and stood, waiting. Henry offered Susannah his arm, and she took it. His forearm was rigid, trembling.

“Will we all go in?” he said in his clear, precise, chilly voice.

No, Susannah wanted to shout as they walked to the brown drawing room. Embrace him. Speak to him as you speak to me. Or as you speak to Mina. Even talking to him as if he were a child would be better than this terrible formality.

After he was introduced to the marchioness, Mr. Crompton went into his satchel. “I have the will here—”

“We all have the will,” said the marchioness. “A piece of feckless stupidity wrapped up in gross idiocy. Is it your work?”

Mr. Crompton quailed visibly under the marchioness’ contempt. “I, uh, I should . . . I realize, that is—”

“You will not attack my solicitor, Lady Chalfont,” Charles said.

What a brave young man.

Charles faced Henry. “You have conceded my right. The issue is clear enough. Bring my niece to me now.”

“She is not a thing to be given.”

“I did not say she was.”

A crack in Henry’s ice. “I beg you to think of the child.”

“I am thinking of the child.”

“You are not.”

Charles pressed his lips together. “And you are? You have never given a thought to anyone besides yourself.”

Susannah made an involuntary movement, wanted to speak, defend her Henry, but she silenced herself.

And she was glad she did because Henry said, “I made many, many errors. But I thought of you. I always thought of you. I think of you.”

Yes, Henry, yes. Tell him how you love him.

Charles just shook his head.

“He deserves to know,” the marchioness said to Henry.

It was a point of agreement between Susannah and the marchioness, but earlier Henry had refused.

Please speak of it now. Of Diana and her perfidy.

“What?” Charles said. His hands clenched at his sides. “That I am not your son? I already know that. Mother told me.”

Henry looked at Susannah and the marchioness and back to Charles. “You are my son.”

“By law, yes. Not by blood.”

“No—”

“This is nonsense.” The marchioness’s walking stick thudded on the carpet.

“You are my son,” Henry said again, his voice deeper and stronger. “Your mother told you lies.”

“I think she would have been the one best positioned to know the truth.”

“Your mother— It was only after your birth that she took other men to her bed.”

“Why would she lie to me?”

Henry looked at Susannah again.

Charles turned on Susannah now. “And who are you? This is family business.”

Henry stepped to Susannah’s side and took her hand. “She is family. I don’t know if I’ll ever convince her to marry me, but she is the wife of my heart, forever.”

“Her?” Charles looked Susannah up and down. “Your tastes have changed, my lord. She’s no match for my mother.”

Henry squeezed Susannah’s hand as he said, “You mean that as an insult, but it is not one.”

Susannah squeezed back. I am not insulted. Tend to your son.

“Your mother.” Henry sighed. His body sagged slightly towards Susannah, but then he straightened.

“Your mother lied about many things. She told you I took you from her out of spite, but she had a lover who violated your brother. I took both of you away from her because she refused to banish that man from her house.”

Henry had at last told his son the truth.

“Impossible,” said Charles, and if Susannah closed her eyes, she would have thought Henry had spoken, they sounded so alike.

Charles went on, “In all the world, I was closest to Hal. He would have spoken to me of it.”

“Would he?” Henry smiled sadly. “Your brother was so much like your mother, don’t you remember?

In that she wanted love. Admiration. Do you think your brother would have dared risk your love?

The way you looked at him, looked up to him.

He was your hero. To tell you of the atrocity done to him even though he was a child and even though it was not his doing, and—”

“Stop! Stop!” It was a shout. “Don’t you dare cast a shadow over my brother’s memory.”

“It’s not his shadow. It was never his. It was that vile man’s. And it was your mother’s because she made it possible and would not listen when I told her—”

“Why should she have listened to you when all you did was treat her in the most despicable manner?”

“I was a bad husband,” Henry said heavily. “I shared nothing good with your mother except you and your brother.”

“And now you have my brother’s daughter, but she belongs to me. By right.”

The door to the drawing room burst open, and Swift appeared, breathless, frightened.

“She’s gone. Mina’s gone, Lord Ashthorpe!” The nursemaid turned to Charles. She was crying. “I’m sorry, Lord Delamere.”

Henry strode forward, towered over the nursemaid. “What are you saying?”

“Just minutes ago I went to the necessary, and she was playing with her new doll, but when I came back, she was gone. The other nursemaids have not seen her, but they’re searching the upstairs now.”

“She ran away.” Henry lunged for the door. “We have to find her.”

Susannah ran after him, went out into the corridor. “No. She didn’t run away. Henry!”

“Yes,” he said and kept moving.

“No. She wouldn’t run away. Remember?”

He stopped and turned.

“Remember what she said earlier?” Susannah pointed at the little library door and formed the words She’s hiding with her lips.

They went into the little library and directly to Mina’s favorite hiding place, the cabinet that had no key. Today was not a day to wander about, pretending they couldn’t find her.

“Mina?” Henry got down on the carpet next to the cabinet.

Nothing was said in reply, but Susannah heard a rustle and a creak coming from the cabinet.

Henry said, “I’m here with Miss Beasley. Have you disappeared?

A muffled yes.

“But we need you back here, Mina. Your uncle is here. We’ve been talking in the drawing room.”

“Don’t want to see him.”

“But he’s your father’s brother. And your father loved him very much, just as he loved you and your mother. And I—” Henry choked. “I love him very much, too. And everyone in this house only wants the best for you. Please come out, Mina.”

“Please,” Susannah said.

Mina opened the cabinet door and crawled directly into Henry’s lap and Henry’s arms.

Susannah heard a sound and looked up. Charles was standing in the doorway, his face stricken with horror. He gulped and disappeared.

When they reconvened in the brown drawing room minutes later, Charles was there, pale but stoic. He had not run away, either. He was determined, and Susannah knew enough to respect the determination of a Delamere.

She did not know what had upset him so greatly about what he had seen in the little library. Maybe because Mina looked like his brother? Or had he heard Henry say how he loved Charles?

Mina refused to be separated from Henry now, and Henry shared her feeling, so he held her. Charles kept his eyes averted from Henry and Mina as they came into the drawing room. But Mina was looking at Charles.

“Papa,” she whispered and put her thumb in her mouth.

Susannah heard what she said.

“He’s very like, isn’t he? And like your grandfather,” Susannah said. “And like you.”

Henry stepped up to Charles. “Charles, this is Mina. Mina, this is your uncle.”

Mina took her thumb out of her mouth. “Did I ever meet you before?”

Charles finally looked at her. “You were a baby.”

“Why didn’t you come until now?”

“I had no right—” He started again. “It was very foolish of me.”

“You’re not to take me away.”

“I have rented rooms in London. And I plan to fill them with toys. Wouldn’t you like to live in London?”

“No, but I will visit you there. With Grandfather.” Mina put her thumb back in her mouth.

The marchioness said loudly, “I grow hungry, and there is much to discuss.”

“Yes,” Henry said. “Including the fact that little pitchers have big ears.”

“I will watch my tongue, nephew. But first.” She thumped her stick. “We have a spy in our midst.”

The marchioness’ walking stick lifted into the air. It wavered for a moment, as if undecided. Susannah couldn’t breathe. Would it point at the solicitor? Or the comely secretary? Or Susannah?

The end of the stick bobbed and glided and landed on the young nursemaid Swift. Susannah had not even noticed she was in the room, standing in the corner.

“You, girl,” the marchioness said. “I made you stay. Can you guess why?”

Swift’s freckles stood out against her pale skin, but she came forward with her head held high. “Yes, my lady.”

“That’s Swift,” Mina announced.

“Swift,” the marchioness said. The stick pointed at Charles. “You know Lord Delamere, eh?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“And you’ve been corresponding with him.”

“This is outrageous,” Charles sputtered. “And not relevant to the matter at hand.”

Henry turned to Swift. “Is it true? Have you been writing to my son?”

“Her real name is Quick,” the marchioness said.

Charles put his shoulders back, moved in front of the nursemaid as if to protect her. “Yes, she wrote me letters.”

“I don’t understand,” Henry said slowly. “How—”

“I was high in the Alps when word reached me of Hal’s death.

Many weeks had already passed. I crossed the Channel to get Mina and was told you had already taken her from the foundling hospital and that I was too young to be executor, to become her guardian.

You were my guardian and, thus, had become hers.

I hired a clever young woman and told her to come to Bledsoe Park and apply for a position as a nursemaid.

She was to watch over Mina and tell me how she was treated in this house.

Of course, I wanted to make sure my niece did not suffer.

I may have not been able to claim her until now, but I did not abandon her. ”

The marchioness squinted. “And did Quick ever write of any wrongdoing here? Did she ever report Lord Ashthorpe had spoken cruelly to Mina? Struck her?”

“No,” said Charles, lifting his chin.

“Let me hear from Quick,” the marchioness said.

The nursemaid stepped around Charles and said in a quiet, clear voice, “I wrote to Lord Delamere that the child was well cared for. And that the affinity and affection between Miss Mina and Lord Ashthorpe seemed as true and strong as any I have ever seen.”

“And yet you would take her, Charles?” the marchioness asked. “When everything points—”

Henry spoke very loudly. “It was well done, Charles. It was very well done. I’m proud you did that. It was the action of an honorable man.”

Susannah’s heart almost burst from her chest.

Oh, love. How I love you.