Lady Bess (12 page)

“Well, then, since you doona plan on leaving until this is done, why not let me continue to host this exceptional party of friends I have here? For I tell ye frankly, my lord, I have been enjoying their company immensely.”

The viscount smiled at him and then regarded his daughter. The earl had the feeling, when he watched the two exchange a long look, that Bess’s father was thinking deeply. However, he couldn’t tell about what, as he watched a silent conversation being exchanged between father and daughter. It was touching, and he felt an admiration for the viscount. Here was a good man, trying to do the best he could for his only child, and it was obvious from his lack of interest in other women that he still missed his late wife.

True love had never been in the cards for the earl. He had never experienced such a love for or from any woman he had ever known. Passion and lust, over and over, and a desire to be his wife for position and wealth, but never the kind of love he had long ago given up on.

Maudlin
. Why was he thinking of such things?

Bess’s father sighed heavily and looked at Maddy. “I cannot believe I am saying this, and hope, Maddy, that you do not disapprove, but, very well. If the earl is not bothered by my pet’s willful presence …”

“And us,” Donna put in brightly.

“And you and Robby’s company, then, very well … have at the poor fellow.”

Maddy clapped her hands and said, “Wonderful, because Anna—the cook here at Searington—was going to show me a recipe for a cake I so would like to be able to put together.”

Bess rounded on her nanny. “Oh, Maddy,” she said with a laugh. “You must not. You know you can’t bake—
you know it
.”

Maddy wiggled her shoulders defiantly. “Nevertheless, I should like to keep on trying, and you, for your naughty remark, shall be the
first one
to taste the results of my efforts!”

Laughter broke out, and when it subsided, Bess began a discourse about some of Maddy’s attempts at baking, which had them all laughing for some moments.

The earl watched them and thought he had not felt so lighthearted and happy in years. Life, in fact, had in recent times become predictable.

Something had changed the moment he had clapped eyes on the Lady Bess. From the moment she had entered his world, his heart seemed to come alive with new energy; it seemed to open, fill his body with refreshed blood. His mind and heart joined as he was bombarded with new emotions, and logic had been thrown to the winds. Possibilities loomed in his sight; possibilities that had long ago been discarded came prancing before him and had a name: Lady Bess.

* * *

“When do you think they will return?” Bess asked Donna as she looked up at the early afternoon sun. Their horses trotted sedately down the drive and into the wide field through the open gate.

“Hmmm, if I believe Robby, they are meeting up with the earl, who is not attending the cock fight, at a local tavern afterwards, so there is no telling. Late afternoon I suppose.”

“Where is the earl going then?” Bess asked.

“Stud farm that is nearby. Wants to look at a young colt.”

“Ah,” she said, pleased that he wasn’t attending the cock fight. The thought of the violence involved with setting two poor roosters at one another made her cringe. “’Tis a shame that men so enjoy such horrid things. How can they watch two creatures go after each other?”

“They watch two men in a ring go after one another.” Donna shrugged. “It is the way of the world.”

Bess laughed. “Look at you, all sophisticated and worldly.”

“Well, think about it, Bess. Men watch men beat one another in a ring and wager on the outcome.”

Bess, however, was no longer listening as she stiffened in her saddle and said, rolling her eyes, “Oh, no.”

“What?” Donna looked in the direction Bess was staring and groaned out loud. “Nothing for it now—they have seen us.”

“Yes, but what are they doing on the earl’s lands? Presumptuous, don’t you think?”

“Hmmm, I do,” Donna said on a frown.

Riding at a sedate pace towards them was Bernard Holland in all his finery. He looked as though he should be at a music recital and not in the saddle. Beside him was a female rider they recognized at once as Mary Russell.

“He wants to be your beau,” Donna teased on a low note.

“Wretch, how can you tease me about such a thing when you know he positively makes me ill?” Bess pulled a face.

“He could marry you and live in comfort with a beautiful wife. You can almost see that thought written across his forehead,” Donna pursued on a bark of a laugh.

“Odious child.” Bess arched a threatening look at her friend.

However, an opportunity did not present itself for further banter on the subject, as Mary Russell and her cousin were upon them, with Mrs. Russell exclaiming, “Oh, my dears, we were just on our way to visit with you at Searington.”

“Good morning, ladies,” said Mr. Holland, touching the tip of his fanciful blue velvet hat.

Bess thought he looked more like a court jester than a man of fashion. “Ah, then how fortunate we have met here,” Bess said, meaning these words fervently. If she had been forced to endure Holland at Searington for heaven only knew how long it would have been intolerable. At least they could now ride off and leave them at their backs.

“Well, I see that the earl is not with you, and it was the earl I wished to speak with …
it is a matter most urgent
,
” Mrs. Russell said worriedly.

Bess regarded her with some concern. “Oh, I am sorry. The earl went off with”—Bess inclined her head towards Donna—“Lady Mabry’s husband and some friends … he is not at home.” She saw the woman’s distress and frowned. “Is there something we can help you with, Mrs. Russell?”

“Other than to relay a message to the earl for me, I am certain there is nothing you can do,” Mrs. Russell said as she turned to her cousin. “Isn’t that right, Bernard?”

“Precisely so, cousin,” Mr. Holland said quietly.

“Our uncle, the squire, has asked us to tell as many people as we can, as perhaps someone has seen something that can help.”

“I am not certain this is a wise course, but we must do as he asks,” Bernard Holland said with a sour face. “I really think all this will do is create fodder for the gossipmongers.”

“Gossip?” Bess said. “Please, Mrs. Russell, you have naught to fear in that regard by asking either Lady Mabry or myself for assistance.”

“Oh, I know, such good girls …” She turned to Holland and said, “Shall I tell them then?”

“Indeed, cousin, you might as well, though I don’t know what more than gossip will be accomplished,” he answered, and Bess thought he looked more than a little irritated.

“Well,” Mrs. Russell returned, looking sternly at him, “these girls will not gossip, and perhaps in the end we may find some help.” She turned to Bess and then Donna, gave them a considering look, and then wailed, “My uncle’s little ward has vanished!”

~ Thirteen ~

“YOUR UNCLE’S WARD?” Bess asked, feeling puzzled and a bit shocked. “I don’t think I understand.”

“No, of course not,” Holland almost snapped as he adjusted his intricate and heavily embroidered yellow cravat. “How could you?” He turned impatiently to his cousin. “Really, Mary, need we be so melodramatic?”

She ignored him and proceeded as though he had not spoken. “My uncle’s ward, Thomas, is only ten years old. His circumstances are, well, unusual.”

“Our uncle found him with his peasant mother, who had applied to our uncle for help. She was expiring in a hovel, and the boy was only seven or eight at the time,” Bernard added with a heavy sigh.

“So sad,” Mrs. Russell said. “You see, well, it is so very delicate, but apparently they had been … friends, this woman and my uncle. He had no idea that her circumstances had deteriorated, or that … she had a child.” She drew in a long breath of air, sighed, and then continued, “At any rate, my uncle has grown very fond of Thomas—”

“I am certain they don’t need all these details,” Bernard Holland actually did snap this time, and quite harshly.

Mrs. Russell put up her chin. “The thing is, I think perhaps he is being held by villains for ransom.”

“I must add to this that Thomas is a wayward boy, more than a little wild. You see, he knows that he is my uncle’s … well … there is no other way to put this, but he is my uncle’s bastard son, and though the rumor is that Uncle changed his will, he still has not publicly acknowledged or adopted the boy.” Holland shrugged. “I have witnessed the little demon’s behavior, and it is my considered opinion that he has run off.”

“Absurd man,” scoffed Mrs. Russell. “He has a governess, and she said they were at the fair. One minute he was enjoying petting the baby goats, and the next minute he was gone.” She sighed heavily. “There can be no doubt that it was an abduction for ransom. Our uncle has been waiting for the ransom request, but none yet has arrived.”

“Precisely so, which leads me to believe that my conjecture that the boy has run off is the correct one. He will return when he finds himself cold and hungry,” Holland said with a sneer. “Mary, you like to think the best of everyone.”

Bess thought about this with great misgiving and said quietly, “I agree with Mrs. Russell. I think the child has been abducted.”

“Mary, please, do call me Mary,” Mrs. Russell interjected.

“What I don’t understand,” stuck in Donna, “is the timing in all of this. Have you only just discovered he is missing? You gave no hint of this last evening.”

“Indeed, apparently my uncle wished to keep the news to himself until this morning, when he sent word of his problem. You see, the boy was supposed to be coming to Mary’s for a spring visit. He had no choice but to advise her of Tom’s disappearance.”

Bess took it all in, especially Bernard’s attitude. He didn’t seem concerned. Even if the boy had taken a pet and run off, one would still be concerned. After all, he was just ten years old. She hesitated and then said, “Mary I don’t wish to worry you further. I do feel, though, whether the boy ran off on his own or not, he is a babe all alone. We must do something—notify the authorities, something.”

“This is absurd,” Bernard uttered with exasperation. “What can we do? Send the beadles after the child? Think of the scandal. The next thing they will say is that my uncle was abusing the boy. Outrageous.”

“No, but we can make a concerted effort to look for him. We enlist friends and fan out and make discreet inquiries. One doesn’t know how much people see and dismiss until they are asked,” Bess said gravely. And then a thought occurred to her. “May I ask, Mary, was your uncle actually going to adopt this boy? Would that have made the boy his heir?”

“That seems a far-fetched implication and very direct from a young lady,” Bernard said in a low voice. He looked angry, very angry.

Bess made light of it. “My besetting sin—I am always too direct.” She met his narrowed eyes with a look that was cool.

Mary shook her head and waved this off. “As to that, I am not sure. No one really knows what my uncle meant to do in regard to the boy. You see, my uncle’s estate is not entailed. He can leave it where he chooses.”

“Is there no one he favored over the years that may have found themselves suddenly cut out by this boy if your uncle changed his will? For I tell you frankly, the idea of his being abducted for ransom, in view of the fact that no letter for said ransom has been submitted, seems odd,” Bess said, her mind racing over her conversation last night with Fleet. Someone wanted the young boy out of the way. Was Fleet right? Would Holland inherit if this child wasn’t around to? And she knew. In her heart she knew that the boy she saw in the Gypsy wagon could be this missing boy. She had to maintain her quiet façade. She couldn’t let on that she knew anything. Holland was not to be trusted!

“As to that, he always liked his one remaining sister, Augusta, but she is older and well off.” Mary shook her head. “No, I just don’t know.” At this point, Mary dug into the deep pocket of her riding skirt and pulled out a miniature to hand to Bess, saying, “This is a very good likeness of Thomas. I had it done when they visited at Christmas.”

Bess held the miniature up, and when she looked at the face of the boy, she nearly choked. She controlled herself and managed to swallow the words that came to her mouth. It wasn’t the time. She had to think about this. She knew just where she had seen that face before. She looked up and found Bernard staring at her.

Bess hurriedly said, “I am shocked. He looks no more than a babe. Thank you. I will keep my eyes and ears open and advise the earl of this awful circumstance as soon as he returns.” She handed the miniature to Donna, who clucked her tongue and murmured words of concern.

Donna returned the miniature to Mary and said, “I am certain you must have things to do. We won’t keep you, and as Bess said, we will advise the earl, who is very knowing and might be able to help.”

Mary thanked them profusely and turned her horse about, taking a path that would lead to the open road. Her cousin tipped his hat and silently followed.

Donna and Bess watched them for a time before Donna rounded on her friend and shrieked, “Don’t fib to me, Bess. Something is towards. I saw it on your face the moment you looked at that boy’s picture!”