Chapter Twelve
M atthew entered his family’s townhouse and gave his hat and gloves to a footman. The servant took them and added, “My lord, Lady Arnsbury is taking tea in the drawing room. She asked if you would join her when you returned home.”
“So I shall.” He crossed through the hallway until he reached the blue drawing room. The wallpaper was the color of a robin’s egg with drapes that were white and blue. He saw his mother seated upon the settee, and her expression brightened when he arrived.
“Matthew, I am glad you were able to join me.” Charlotte poured him a cup of tea without asking and added sugar, offering it to him. “I’ve been wanting to speak with you.”
His first thought was of Miss Carlisle. Had the woman carried out her threat of spreading stories? Matthew took the cup and joined his mother, sitting across from her. “What is it? Has something happened?”
She paused a moment and said, “I wanted to see how you’ve been…feeling during the past few months. We haven’t truly talked in a while.”
He understood what she meant now. Ever since the night when he’d fallen into despair, his mother had hovered over him, afraid he would do the worst. And the truth was, after he’d hurt Lily, his own life had seemed useless and wasted.
“Each day grows easier,” he admitted. “Sometimes the nightmares come, but I have found that I am now able to sleep at night.”
“And you are eating again.” Charlotte smiled warmly at him, offering a plate of sandwiches. He took one to satisfy her, though he wasn’t truly hungry. “You do not know how worried we were.”
It had been a dark time, but he did believe Lily’s forgiveness had helped. “It was not easy.”
Charlotte poured herself a second cup of tea. “And how are things with Lady Lily? Dare I hope that we can post the banns soon?”
“I have asked her to marry me,” he admitted. “But she has not yet agreed.”
At that, his mother set down her cup. “Why ever not?
Because she does not yet trust me , he thought. But he managed an excuse, saying, “She is studying veterinary medicine.”
Charlotte stared at him as if he’d confessed that Lily was trying to grow wings. “Why on earth would she do that? Is she interested in horses?”
“Lily prefers smaller animals, such as dogs. She saved the life of a Newfoundland and she also gave me that Beast of my own.” He nodded toward the kitten, who had wandered inside the drawing room and was poised to attack the furniture. Matthew leaned down to scoop the kitten into his lap.
“I hope you will continue to court Lady Lily,” his mother said. “I like the girl and her family. She is good for you, Matthew.”
“She is. And I intend to keep paying calls on her.”
A strange look crossed his mother’s face, one that held a hint of wickedness. “It may sound Machiavellian, but I would not hold it against you, if you were to seduce the girl.”
He said nothing, for he’d already done that, two years ago. It had been passionate and impulsive, and he’d made promises of marriage that he’d fully intended to keep upon his return.
But both of them had changed over the years. And though he wanted her by his side, he understood her wariness.
“Lily is a good woman,” he reminded his mother. “And I intend to win her heart on her own terms.”
“With flowers and jewels?” Charlotte prompted.
“No. With books on veterinary medicine and pamphlets.”
His mother let out a rueful sigh. “You, my dear son, have much to learn about how to court a woman.” Charlotte rose from her chair and came to embrace him. “And do not delay too long, for I should like to have grandchildren before I die.”
Though her tone was teasing, his mother was in her mid-sixties now, and he understood her desire for babies. As for himself, he wasn’t entirely ready for children. At least, not yet.
“Time will tell,” was all he could say.
“By the by, I am concerned about your cousin Adrian. I hear gossip that he has considerable gaming losses.”
“If he does, that is on his shoulders, not mine.” He had never particularly liked his cousin.
“It’s just that…he is spending as if he will come into a large sum of money.”
Matthew’s mood turned grim, and he wondered if Sarah Carlisle had spoken to him or to anyone else about his birth. “Because he believes he might somehow inherit my title?”
Her face paled and she returned to her seat. “H-how can you imagine such a thing?”
Matthew set down his cup and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. It struck him that his mother appeared more worried than enraged. There was no anger—only fear. And so, he pried a little deeper.
“A woman named Miss Carlisle paid a call upon me a few weeks ago,” he began. “She spoke of a payment my father gave her on a yearly basis. A blackmail payment. Now why would Father allow this?”
He wanted to see his mother’s outrage and denial. He wanted to hear from her own lips that there was nothing wrong. But Charlotte’s hands were shaking, and she did not answer. He waited, and demanded, “Well?”
“I—I don’t know.” Her voice was tremulous, and she would not look at him. Something was wrong, something she would not say. And God help him, he needed to know if there was any truth to Sarah Carlisle’s claims.
He pressed again, “Why do I have brown eyes, Mother? I don’t look like you or my father.”
He expected her to speak of a grandparent, but instead, her face blanched. “Close the door, Matthew.”
A sudden coldness iced through him, but he obeyed. When he turned back to her, he saw that she was staring down at her hands. She looked all the world like a woman suffused with guilt.
No. He did not want to believe any of this. He wished he had not brought it up, but now, it was too late to go back. He needed the truth, even at the risk of his inheritance.
His mood darkened, and he demanded, “Is it true? Am I a bastard with no claim to the earldom?”
“Your father formally recognized you as his heir,” she said quietly. “But please…do not ask any more questions. Let things be as they are. Your father and I treasured you, and you were raised to be the earl.”
He felt as if the floor beneath him had buckled, his life torn apart by words. “Is that woman my mother?” he gritted out. “Did she have an affair with my father, and is that why he paid her?”
“N-no,” the countess insisted. “Matthew, I swear to you, she is not your mother. Your father was never unfaithful to me.”
He didn’t believe her. The terror in her eyes and her visible fear revealed far more than he wanted to know. And he would have the truth now, even if it meant confronting the woman who threatened his very future.
“How do I look?” Evangeline breathed. Instead of wearing the ball gown the color of mouse fur, she had chosen a soft rose silk. Around her throat, she wore a chain of diamonds, and two tiny pink roses were tucked into her black hair. “Will Lord Davonshire notice me, do you think?
Already half of the gentlemen had noticed her, but Lily feared it was because of the diamonds around Evangeline’s throat. Everyone knew of her wealth, and many unscrupulous men might try to take advantage of her.
“You look beautiful,” Lily told her. And her friend had indeed transformed. Evangeline’s cheeks were flushed with excitement, her eyes bright with the prospect of meeting the earl.
“Will he be here this evening, do you think? Lord Delicious, I mean.”
“Lord Dog Thief,” Lily corrected. Although she knew it was right to surrender Sebastian into his hands, she felt the loss of the dog keenly. She missed the enormous animal trying to snuggle against her while she read her books and the patch of drool upon her skirts.
“He did not truly steal Sebastian,” Evangeline reminded her.
“Oh, I know it. But I do miss my dog. He was mine, even if only for a short time.” Her heart was still wounded at the memory.
“Annabelle had her puppies last night,” Evangeline said. “If you would like one, I can give you one of your own, once the puppies are old enough to be weaned. A new Sebastian, if you like. Although this one would be much smaller.”
Her friend’s offer was so generous, but Lily didn’t know if she was ready for a new dog yet. “Perhaps.”
Evangeline squeezed her hand in silent sympathy, and Lily forced away the sadness. “Do promise me this. If Lord Davonshire does attend this gathering, you cannot hide yourself behind the drapes.”
“I might faint,” her friend warned.
“Were I you, I would visit with other ladies and gentlemen before he arrives. Then, at least, you’ll be ready for a conversation.” Evangeline’s attention seemed rather distracted, and it was then that Lily noticed her brother standing nearby.
Her friend glanced over at James and murmured, “I will never be ready. “Not for a man like him.” She let out a dramatic sigh, fanning herself. It made Lily even more suspicious that Evangeline was playacting for James’s benefit.
“I suppose you have given up on James, then?” Lily ventured. She was starting to wonder whether it was still true that Evangeline wanted nothing more to do with James.
But her friend’s demeanor shifted into sadness. “It’s not really giving up when he had no interest in me, in the first place.”
There was nothing Lily could say to that except, “I’m sorry.”
Evangeline braved a smile before it suddenly faded. “Oh goodness, Lord Magnificent is here.” She fanned herself rapidly and clutched Lily’s palm with the other hand. “What should I do?” It was then that James walked away, and Evangeline’s attention shifted back.
“Try smiling," Lily suggested. “He might come and speak to you.”
But Evangeline’s expression was pained. “I never should have hidden in the trees that day. He might come talk to you, but never to me.” She closed her eyes. “I should go into the hallway by the stairs and collect myself.”
“You are not going anywhere.” Lily tightened her grip on Evangeline’s hand. “Calm yourself. Take a deep breath and count to ten.”
The young woman made a valiant effort, but she seemed unable to resist her urge to disappear. Thankfully, after a few moments, she seemed to gather her composure. And that was likely because Lily had not released her hand.
But Lord Davonshire did not approach. Instead, Matthew’s cousin, Adrian Monroe, walked toward them. He wore a black evening tailcoat with a snowy waistcoat. Mr. Monroe bowed to them and then turned to Evangeline. “Miss Sinclair, would you care to dance?”
His invitation was the last thing Evangeline expected. Her expression resembled a gaping fish, so Lily intervened and handed her friend over to Mr. Monroe. “Of course, she would.” It was far better for her friend to dance and distract herself from Lord Davonshire. “Enjoy yourself, Evangeline.”
Adrian tucked her gloved hand in his arms and winked at Lily. “And will you save a later dance for me, Lady Lily?”
“If you wish.” It did seem that Monroe had recognized that she wanted only friendship, and she was grateful for that.
For a moment, she stood among the wallflowers, watching over the dancing. There had been a time when she had remained among them because she had not wanted any man to court her. Now, she wasn’t so certain. When she glanced back to where she had last seen Lord Davonshire, she now saw Matthew.
His heated gaze fixed upon hers, and she felt the echo of an invisible caress upon her bare skin. The very sight of him unnerved her. He knew her intimately, and it was as if the rest of the crowd had disappeared, until only the two of them stood before one another.
Lily had made a conscious effort to distance herself over the past few weeks, declining all invitations. And indeed, with each day she was apart from Matthew, she found herself missing him more and more. He had been kind enough to continue sending her the books on veterinary medicine, but the books only augmented her loneliness.
Right now, she wanted to cross the room and embrace him, feeling his strong arms around her.
You are so weak, she told herself. She wanted to believe that his mind had healed from the torment he had endured. And yet, his unwillingness to tell her anything about India suggested that he had buried the past instead of trying to face it. She needed him to trust her with the truth before she could give him her heart without reservations.
He watched her for a time, a slight smile curving upon his mouth. She met his gaze, realizing how much she cared for this man.
Lily heard a slight sound behind her, a woman’s cry of dismay. It distracted her enough that she turned to see what it was. She saw her mother standing in the shadows. What on earth was Iris doing here?
“I did not realize you were attending the soiree this evening, Mother.”
But when she came closer, she saw that Iris was wearing a day dress and not an evening gown. Around her neck, she wore a chain of dried daisies, and her gaze was distant. “The wolves are circling, Lily. And I fear they have come for me.”
Her heart froze, and she moved beside her mother immediately. “I am here, Mother. I am sorry you aren’t feeling yourself. I’ll summon the carriage and take you home.”
“No, you mustn’t leave,” Iris said. “He will be here soon.”
Lily didn’t bother to unravel the mysteries of her mother’s conversation, nor did she ask who “he” was. Instead, she reached out to take her hand. Iris was not wearing gloves, and her palm was ice cold. “Will you walk with me, Mother?”
“They’re circling…all around,” she breathed. “Don’t you see them? They will devour us all.”
Desperately, Lily looked around in case Matthew had come any closer. Or even her brother, but neither could be found. She needed someone to help her escort Iris outside before anything happened. Right now, the madness had overtaken her mother, suffocating out all reality. If she tried to force her to leave, Iris might protest and make a scene.
When she tried to tuck her mother’s hand in her arm, Iris pulled back. “It’s not safe here, Lily.”
“What isn’t safe?” came a deep baritone voice. Lily turned and saw Lord Davonshire standing nearby. He smiled warmly, but she was afraid of what her mother might do. “Is everything all right, Lady Penford?”
“It’s nothing,” Lily answered on her mother’s behalf. She needed to send him back to the ballroom before her mother’s condition worsened. “Lord Davonshire, I fear my mother is not feeling well. I am about to take her home.”
But then her mother took another step back. “Who is that man, Lily? Why is he here?”
She tried to keep a serene expression on her face. “I know you remember John Wilson, the Earl of Davonshire, Mother.”
But there was no response at all. Her mother was staring off into the distance, one hand upon the stair bannister. Oh no.
“Forgive me, Lord Davonshire, but I really must take my mother home. She is quite ill.”
He inclined his head. “I understand. But before you go, you should know that Louis misses you.”
The tightness in her gut twisted, and she wished he had never mentioned the dog. “I miss him, too,” she confessed. While she spoke, she kept an eye on her mother, in case Iris attempted to run.
“He seems to be searching for you,” Lord Davonshire said. “And he keeps trying to sit in my lap.”
Lily managed a smile. Though she wanted to ask him more questions, her attention was focused upon Iris. “I am glad to hear that he is well.”
Lord Davonshire turned to Iris and saw that the older woman was still staring off at the end of the hallway, utterly silent now. “I beg your pardon, but your mother seems—”
“Yes, I know.” Though she was trying not to panic, she was increasingly aware that Iris was starting to walk toward the stairs. Her behavior strongly resembled that of a woman caught within a trance. “I really should be going now.”
“Then allow me to accompany you both home. It would be no trouble.”
No doubt Evangeline would be terribly disappointed if she agreed to such a thing. “Thank you, but no. We will be fine.” Then she added, “When we met the other day, my friend Evangeline Sinclair was too shy to meet you. She is here this evening, and I know it would mean the world to her if you asked her for a dance.”
The earl’s attention rested upon her for a moment. “And would it mean a great deal to you if I did?”
This conversation was not at all going the way it should. Lily needed to make it clear that she was not at all interested. “Lord Davonshire, I think you should know that—”
A piercing scream tore from her mother’s mouth. “No! Please! Help me!” She clenched her hands at her sides and broke into a run toward the ballroom.
Lily raced after her. The moment Iris entered the crowd of people, all conversation ceased. Her mother continued to scream, and Lily felt utterly helpless. The madness was upon her, and nothing she said or did would make any difference.
But then, Matthew emerged from the crowd of people. He crossed the room and caught hold of Iris, speaking in a low voice. Gently, he guided her away from everyone. Lily had never been more glad to see him. She hurried to catch up to them and overheard him murmuring apologies to their host.
In that moment, she realized that this was the sort of man he had always been. He didn’t care about what others thought or about what they would say. He knew her mother needed help and gave it without hesitation. And despite her fears that his mind had not healed from his ordeal in India, she was grateful to him now.
Lily lifted her eyes to his and whispered, “Thank you.”
“Do you want to stay?” he asked. “I can take her home for you.”
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Behind her, she was well aware of the whispering. While many of the ladies knew that her mother had retreated from society, they had managed to carefully hide her madness—but no longer. Lily wished she could undo the past few minutes, but the damage was done. They needed to bring her back to Penford into seclusion. And it hurt to think of it.
Matthew rested his arm around her mother’s shoulders while Iris sobbed about the wolves. “They’re here. All around me, ready to devour me alive. And I cannot stop them.”
“We will protect you,” he said, as they guided her outside. Lily asked a footman to bring around the carriage, and he did so.
She had mistakenly believed that her mother’s condition was improving, for she’d had more moments of clarity. But now it was clear that Iris would never be the same.
Lily wanted to weep for the mother she’d lost, wishing she could bring back the woman who had taught her how to dance and how to make daisy chains.
They guided her inside, sitting on either side of Iris so she could not break free of the carriage again. Her mother’s gaze was fixed outside the window, and beneath her breath she was murmuring to herself.
“I need to take her back to Yorkshire, to Penford,” Lily said. “We cannot stay in London.”
“I will go with you,” Matthew said.
She ventured a smile. “Now what sort of scandal would that cause? Though I appreciate your offer, we both know you cannot.”
“I am not staying with you,” he pointed out. “I will make other arrangements with my cousin Amelia. She does not live far from you, I believe.”
His offer took her by surprise, and she studied him in the darkness of the carriage. “Why would you do this, Matthew?”
He reached for her hand. “Because you need help. Your sister is married and in Ireland. Your brother has the estates to manage, and this has fallen upon your shoulders.”
He meant it. He truly intended to come with her to Yorkshire, whether she wanted him or not.
“James will accompany us, since Parliament is out of session,” she reminded him. “It isn’t necessary.”
He flicked upon the buttons to her glove, touching her bare palm. “Do you want me to come, Lily?” His voice was low and deep like a caress in the darkness.
Her wayward heart soared, for she could not deny the dormant feelings that continued to rise up. She ought to tell him no, that her family would manage her mother and do what was best.
And yet, she could not stop the whisper. “Yes. I do want you to come with us.”
His thumb slid against her palm, making gentle circles. It felt as if he were touching bare skin everywhere, though it was only beneath her glove. Had her mother not been with them, she believed he would have kissed her.
“Then I will be there with you.”
“I understand you are leaving for Yorkshire.”
Matthew turned at the sound of his cousin’s voice. He was walking toward his London townhouse when he spied Adrian approaching. The man wore a russet striped waistcoat and a black coat with dark trousers. He carried a walking stick with a silver handle, while a sly smile spread over his face.
“I am traveling for a short time,” he agreed. “A fortnight or so.” In fact, he had ordered his servants to begin packing his belongings for the visit. God willing, he would return to announce an engagement between himself and Lily. But he knew his cousin was not here to exchange pleasantries. More likely the man intended to ask for money, given his gaming debts. “What is it you want, Adrian?”
“A question that is best explained over a drink and perhaps a round of cards,” his cousin suggested. “Let us go and talk at White’s. We will toast your good journey.”
Matthew wanted to refuse. He had no desire to spend time with Adrian, especially given the threat of blackmail. His cousin might try to use that information to his advantage. But Matthew still didn’t know the entire truth.
His own mother had not denied all the facts of the rumors. It felt as if his entire childhood had been a lie, and he didn’t know how to react. Though he doubted if he would lose his inheritance, Adrian could cause a scandal that would destroy his mother. The man was a wastrel who would ruin the family. Matthew could not stand aside and let him do such a thing.
“Well?” his cousin prompted. “Shall we go?”
“Fine.” He followed his cousin along the street, the tension stretching taut within him. The London air was thick with the scent of poverty and unrest. When he passed a group of street urchins, it struck him hard that he could have come from that. He could have been born from anyone, adopted into his parents’ home.
His mother had sworn that Sarah Carlisle was not his mother. But their eyes were the same, as were their features. He had no interest in giving Miss Carlisle a single penny…and yet, she held the answers he needed.
Adrian opened the door to the gentleman’s club and entered the smoky room. Several men greeted them both, and Matthew raised his hand in greeting. His cousin chose a table far away from anyone else and ordered drinks for them.
Once they arrived, Matthew took a drink and sat back, studying his cousin. Why had he never noticed that they looked nothing alike? He resembled no one in his family, not with his dark hair or brown eyes.
Adrian raised his glass. “To your journey, Cousin.”
Matthew did the same, noticing the gleam of interest in the man’s eyes. “Why did you want to speak with me?”
His cousin drained the rum. “I’ve heard a number of stories recently that I find fascinating. In particular, about your mother, Charlotte. Did you know she was barren for over ten years? And then suddenly…you came along.”
He knew precisely what his cousin was implying. But he could not allow Adrian to threaten the only family he had left. Whether or not he was a bastard didn’t matter—what mattered was protecting Arnsbury and his mother.
And so, he parried Adrian’s verbal strike with one of his own. “My father was overjoyed when I was born. He was glad to have a son.”
“ Is that who you truly are?” his cousin said silkily. “Or were you a convenient child, adopted at the right time?”
He leaned forward, making sure Adrian understood him. “My father, the Earl of Arnsbury, acknowledged me as his son to everyone. He never had any doubts of who I was, and I became the earl upon his death.”
“Perhaps he should have asked more questions,” Adrian said. He met Matthew’s stare openly. “I understand a mutual acquaintance of ours, Miss Carlisle, was most disappointed that you refused to pay her annual pension. I, on the other hand, am prepared to reward her handsomely for her assistance.”
It was time to end this conversation. Matthew stood from the table and looked down upon Adrian. “Lies and stories will not change what is. I am the Earl of Arnsbury, and nothing will alter that.”
Adrian rose from his place and gave a mocking smile. “We shall see.”