Chapter Sixteen #3
“Why his nephew?” Tremayne asked.
“He is a Trentchester by blood—”
Pippa was interrupted by Millie. “Roarke never liked his brother. In fact, he warned Grant to stay away from me before, and after, Roarke and I married.”
“I take it something happened to have him warning his brother to keep his distance?” Tremayne asked.
“The blackguard cornered Millie in her sitting room, when he thought Roarke was out of the house,” Pippa said.
Millie stared at the floor, silent as a grave.
Pippa continued, “Little did he know Roarke was in the library, heard the commotion, and rushed in to save Millie. He left three days later to rejoin his regiment.”
“A few weeks later, I discovered I was carrying our son.” Millie paused.
“I’m not sure how his brother found out about our babe.
I had confided our news in a letter to Roarke.
I went for a few months without hearing from him—or reading any news about casualties his regiment suffered.
And then the missive arrived saying that he was dead.
” She lifted her head to meet Tremayne’s eyes and whispered, “Not when, nor where, nor how. No ‘we’re sorry to inform you of his passing,’ just that he was dead. ”
Flaherty had been watching Millie’s expression the entire time, and there was no doubt in his mind that she was Earl Haybrook’s daughter, Millicent Haybrook Trentchester.
He had no doubt about Pippa, but had calmed enough to listen without interrupting when Tremayne turned to her and asked, “What can you tell me about your family?”
Pippa shot a glance at Flaherty, who silently urged her with a look to just answer the question.
She rolled her eyes at him—which had him silently chuckling—and asked, “Shall I start with the death of my mum when I was little, or would you like to know the rank and file of my decade-older brothers? Mayhap you would like to know my father’s title—as if you don’t already know he is a baron. ”
“Tell me about your brothers, if you wouldn’t mind,” Tremayne replied.
Flaherty braced himself as Pippa’s gaze rested on Tremayne’s forehead for a brief moment before following the length of the scar that bisected the side of his face.
He hated knowing that the former lieutenant in the king’s dragoons had to deal with the injury that ended his military career and nearly his life.
“Thank you for serving our king and country, Lieutenant Tremayne. My brother Winston is a colonel in the army—but his regiment is not as distinguished as the dragoons you must have served with, judging from your grievous injury. Even though I take umbrage at your questioning my dear friend about her marriage and her babe, because of all she has been through, I will answer your questions about my life. It is far from exciting.”
Garahan’s snort had Flaherty rounding on his cousin. “I’m certain the lass was referring to her life before she met me.”
“Don’t ye mean before she shot ye?” O’Malley asked.
“Of course I meant before I met you, Dillon.” Addressing Garahan, Pippa said, “Dillon believes that I was not shooting at him.” Turning back to Tremayne, she explained, “I fell backward and the blunderbuss went off.”
Garahan sighed. “We believe ye, but as cousin to Flaherty, ’tis our right to rile him.”
“Aye,” O’Malley said. “He’s a formidable bare-knuckle foe when his temper’s up.”
“Why would that matter now?” Pippa asked.
“You will not beat on one another in this house!” Lady Phoebe proclaimed.
Flaherty grinned. “Sure and ye don’t have to be reminding us of that, yer ladyship. We’ll be going a few rounds in the outbuilding. After the lass and Millie have answered all of Tremayne’s questions.”
“A satisfying round or three of bare-knuckle with an able opponent clears the cobwebs out of yer head,” Garahan said.
“Don’t you mean a round or two?” Pippa asked.
O’Malley answered for Garahan, “Nay, it takes at least two rounds to get a feel for your opponent’s strengths and weaknesses. The third round usually decides the bout.”
“About your brothers, Miss Stanhope?” Tremayne asked.
“George is the eldest and has the makings of a fine baron, and will no doubt be a good and honest steward of the land and all that is entailed along with the title.” When Tremayne waited, Pippa continued, “Winston is a colonel in the army, Randolph is a captain in the navy, and Miles a lieutenant in the marines. Though thankfully they serve on different ships, otherwise Miles would be in the brig constantly.”
“I take it Miles and Randolph do not get along,” Tremayne said.
Flaherty was surprised by the way the sunshine of Pippa’s smile melted away the worry. “Er…yes. I suppose one would come to that conclusion. Though in truth, they just see everything from a different perspective.”
“And your other brothers?” Tremayne asked without a hint of inflection in his voice.
“I have no other brothers.”
“And you, Mrs. Trentchester, how old are your brothers?”
“I am an only child,” Millie replied.
“And your mothers? How could they allow either of you to go off on such a journey without both of them accompanying you, with a wet nurse and midwife in tow?”
Pippa and Millie shared a look, and Millie replied, “If your Captain Coventry is planning to trip us up in answering questions about our families, he must be quite worried. What are you not telling us?”
Tremayne held Millie’s gaze for a long moment before urging, “Answer my question, while I consider the ramifications of answering yours.”
“Both Pippa’s mum and my own died when we were but two years old. They had been visiting one of Father’s tenant farmers who had been ill. First my mum and then Pippa’s caught the same virulent fever and were gone a few days later.”
“I am sorry for your loss, Mrs. Trentchester, Miss Stanhope.”
Millie sighed and thanked him.
Pippa, on the other hand, spoke up. “We’re waiting for you to tell us what you know that involves both of our families.”
When Tremayne did not immediately answer, Flaherty asked, “Are they in immediate danger?”
“No more than five minutes ago,” the lieutenant answered honestly. “I need to send a missive to Coventry to ask his permission to confide in you.”
“Then we have answered your questions satisfactorily?” Pippa asked.
“You have, thank you, Miss Stanhope. Thank you, Mrs. Trentchester.”
When he rose from his seat and was speaking to the baron, Pippa said, “We’d be honored if you would stay for our wedding, lieutenant. It will be a very small affair, but Mrs. Green has been baking a lovely cake for the occasion.”
Flaherty added, “’Twould be a shame to have to leave before eating yer fill and enjoying a bit of wedding cake.”
Tremayne stared at Flaherty. “Cake was mentioned twice. Did you happen to mention my weakness for cake in passing?”
Flaherty shook his head and turned to Garahan. “I didn’t tell her.”
O’Malley stepped in front of Garahan and crossed his arms over his chest. “As all of us know, you cannot resist any baked goods, though we know ye prefer cake. ’Twould be best to blame all three of us, as we are all well aware ye cannot pass a slice of cake by without having just wee taste.”
“If that is all, gentlemen, please excuse Pippa, Millie, and myself. We have a wedding to get ready for,” Lady Phoebe announced.
As the women swept from the room, Flaherty nudged Tremayne. “’Tisn’t telling if ye’re reading aloud what ye write in yer missive to the captain.”
“He’s got ye there,” Garahan said.
“That seems like a bit of a whitewashed lie,” Tremayne mumbled.
“Ah, so it is…and ’tis white and pure as the driven snow,” O’Malley said.
Summerfield motioned to the men. “Let us adjourn to my library. Tremayne will find the quill sharp, the inkwell full, and plenty of foolscap to write on.”
“If Coventry finds out that I told you—” Tremayne started.
“God, ye’ve a harder head than Garahan, Tremayne. We told ye, reading aloud what ye’re writing ’tisn’t the same as telling,” Flaherty grumbled. “Now let’s go—I have a flask to refill, and a tub of hot water waiting for me to sink into so I’ll be presentable for me bride this afternoon.”
Tremayne sighed. “Very well.” He glared at Flaherty. “But it will be my turn to win the argument next time!”
Flaherty grinned. “Ye heard him, boy-os. ’Twill be his turn next time.”
Summerfield just kept walking until he reached his library and walked to his desk. He pulled out a sheaf of foolscap and laid it on the desk. “Here’s the quill and there’s the inkwell. Start writing…and don’t leave any detail out.”