Mistress by Midnight (21 page)

Carter shrugged. “Enough for what land’s left here. His lordship’s uncle sold off most of it ages ago, I understand.”

Yes, Con’s uncle had stripped him of every possession he could and beggared him into the bargain. “Did you know him?”

“He was a recluse, wasn’t he? But everyone knew him hereabouts. Used to walk, rain or shine, grumbling to himself. I tried to talk him into hiring me to fix the place up, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Shocking, this old house was. I remember when Miss Stanbury married his lordship’s father here. I wasn’t more than seven or eight, but all the neighbors were invited to the wedding and the big reception after. There were tents and tables on the lawn and all the ale you could drink, even though her old man had hit a bad financial patch. Sold off the best furniture, they say, for that party. The old gent died soon after. But his lass Katie looked like an angel to a boy like me.” His eyes slid over to Beatrix. “There’s a painting of her in the attic. Needs mending. Ripped in the corner, alas, and beyond my expertise. But she looked a bit like you, little miss.”

Laurette’s hands shook. She tore the crust off her bread to keep them busy. “It’s said we all have a twin somewhere,” she said tamping down her apprehension.

“True enough. I met a Frenchie that looked enough like me to be my brother. Had to kill him, though.”

Beatrix’s mouth hung open.

“Here now, I didn’t mean to shock your delicate sensibilities.” Carter grinned again, then tucked into his eggs. “Absolutely delicious, Miss Sadie. Don’t know when I’ve eaten so well since you came.”

“Go on with you, now.” Sadie flushed at the man and not just from the heat of her exertions. Mr. Carter was a charmer.
Even Nadia, who was devoted to Aram, beamed at him as she topped off his coffee. Laurette found her bread difficult to swallow.

A trip to the attic was in order.

But not now. Now it was time for Beatrix, because there was so precious little of it.

O
nce they finished breakfast, they rambled outside, Bea telling a comprehensive tale about her stay in the country so far. They climbed a hill and Laurette found herself short of breath. Too much city living had definitely spoiled her. They sat under a lone tree, spreading their skirts on the shade-dappled grass.

“You’re getting on with James, then?”

Beatrix gave a long-suffering sigh. “He’s all right. For a boy.”

“And Lord Conover says he’s all boy. I understand he gets into quite a bit of trouble at school.”

Her daughter’s face turned serious. “I think he wants to be bad enough so his father will have to come and get him. I don’t know who James wants to cause more trouble for—his masters or his father.”

Laurette’s eyes widened in shock. “But he loves school! He’s so bright and has always had high marks!”

Beatrix shrugged. “He’d rather displease his father just now. James is angry, you know. He wants to know why his father left him.”

“Oh, dear.” It was one thing to be resentful, but if James ruined his chances at an education, he’d hurt himself the most.

“You know, don’t you? Why he went away when James
was born. You’ve known Lord Conover since he was a boy himself. He told me all about that when he came to visit me at school, how you were the best of friends.”

Laurette studied her daughter’s earnest little face. Her bronze-gold lashes framed hazel eyes that seemed older than her years. There were a few new freckles from the week spent out-of-doors with an active boy. Her half-brother.

A fact which she must never find out.

Oh, lord. What if Beatrix was forming a childish
tendre
for James? Now that they had been thrown together, what if it turned into something dangerous in the years to come? An unprecedented level of panic rose in Laurette’s chest and she looked away.

“It’s very complicated.”

“James knows Lord Conover made a marriage of convenience. Most people in the ton do. But they don’t abandon their babies.” Bea looked disapproving, as well she should. Con had run away.

But so had Laurette. She’d felt she had no choice but to give Bea a better future, but what if she’d been wrong?

“Sometimes people do things that seem terrible, but they think it for the best. When they are very young—” Laurette’s voice cracked, and she swallowed hard. This was territory that was far too dangerous. She wasn’t sure she could excuse Con’s behavior herself. And her own was beyond excuse.

Damn Con for throwing her into this and forcing her to pick at the scabs of her worst wounds. She was not ready to tell Beatrix anything. But Con was right. The child was smart. Laurette cleared her throat and began again.

“Lord Conover cares very much for James, and is sad that in the past he was not the parent he should have been. More than sad. Guilty. It’s left him—a little unhinged, I think. Not—not in a dangerous way,” she added, seeing Bea’s look of alarm. “This holiday is a start meant to make up for the years he wasted. He knows a made a mistake with James. People make mistakes.”

“I know that. Lord Conover said as much to me when we first met. He said he hadn’t done his duty to his people. His neighbors. He was worried about all of you in Lower Conover.”

Laurette tried to laugh. “He needn’t worry about me! I’m perfectly content.”

“Yes, but you’re alone, except for Sadie. Your parents are dead and Cousin Charlie is a very poor sort of brother to you. He gets into worse scrapes than James and is old enough to know better.”

“Beatrix Isabella Vincent! Who has been feeding you this gossip? My brother Charles is of no concern to you or Lord Conover! Damn that interfering man!” Laurette sprang up from the grass and brushed her skirts. Blast Con for whatever stories he told Bea. Sadie, too. It was time for another talk with them both.

But she had to tamp her anger down. It would not do to lose her temper any further and say something that Beatrix would remember and file away. “I apologize, Bea. You know I hate people meddling in my life.”

“Please don’t be angry with Lord Conover. He’s just trying to be kind.”

“By using you to tell his ridiculous tales?”

Beatrix looked alarmed again. “No, no. He didn’t tell me anything ridiculous. He was most gentlemanly with me when he came to visit. Either Miss Davenport or Miss Emily were with us, and he could not have been more proper.”

Propriety counted with Bea—she was a very proper girl, something Laurette had never been, much to her regret. “How many times did he come to Bath to see you?”

“Just three. And he didn’t come to see
me,
exactly. He had business there. But he was very kind. When we first met I was a little shy of him—but then he told me funny stories about life at Ryland Grove and your village when you both were children.” Bea dropped her lashes. “I think he likes you, Cousin Laurette.”

Perfect.
She was going to strangle Con for using their child so. “Don’t go playing matchmaker,” Laurette said tartly.

“James likes you too. A lot. Sadie says you could be a marchioness and then James could have a mother again.”

Add Sadie to the strangulation list. “What nonsense! I’ll have you know we’re leaving here in a week. No, six days.” She looked at the timepiece pinned to her dress. “Five and a half now. Lord Conover has overstepped his bounds by miles. The man needs to know he cannot have whatever he thinks he wants.”

Beatrix paled beneath her freckles. “It’s my fault. I’ve made you cross.”

Laurette sat down again and clasped the child’s palm. “No. Lord Conover and I agreed yesterday we would stay a week only. It isn’t proper for us to be here.”

“B-but I thought I was here for the summer,” Beatrix said in a small voice. “And Sadie’s here to chaperone.” She looked crushed.

“Sadie, God bless her, is just as bad as Con,” Laurette mumbled. “We won’t go straight home to Penzance. I know you love the country. We can stay at Vincent Lodge for a few days. Weeks even.”

“Sadie said the house is all torn up. And the lambs just came.”

Bugger the lambs.
It was as if Con knew just what softhearted Beatrix needed. She’d been mad for animals her whole short life, her cousins living in a small house in the middle of town with no room or tolerance to spare for a pet.

“There are the chickens at the Lodge.”

“Sadie sent them all to the Cobb farm for the summer. Squire Cobb promised not to eat any of them.”

“And Squire Cobb is very fond of roast chicken,” Laurette smiled.

“He
is
very fat,” Beatrix agreed. “As are his daughters.” She covered her mouth. “I’m not being very nice, am I?”

“That’s all right. The Cobb twins are not very nice them
selves. Serves them right they look like stuffed hens.” Neither woman, despite their parents’ coddling or their substantial portion, had contracted a marriage yet. Laurette reflected that their joint debut at the Blue Calf Inn’s assembly room all those years ago had brought none of the three of them the usual result. There was a high proportion of spinsters in their neck of Dorset, and Con, damn him, was not going to change that unless he married a Cobb twin.

“Well, I guess we can muddle through all the mess,” Beatrix said. She bit a lip and looked forlorn. “I don’t want to go home quite yet. Mama and Papa won’t be expecting me for ages and ages. Perhaps the Marquess will let us live at the Grove. Oh, but I forgot, there are workmen all over there too.” She gave a little sigh.

My word, but her daughter was dramatic, running through all her sad, wistful expressions in one sitting. Laurette was tempted to ask if she was performing in plays at school. She decided to take another tack. “I believe if we leave James and his father alone to their own devices, they may find their difficulties at an end. If you and I are not present at dinner to keep the conversation flowing, they’ll be forced to talk to each other.” Laurette teased Bea’s pigtail as she saw Con do this morning. “I was very proud of you last evening. You tried very hard to engage them both. You’re my little peacemaker.”

Beatrix colored prettily. “It’s only that I feel sorry for James. He wants to love his father but he cannot.”

“Families are not always arranged as we’d like them. My own parents were sometimes unsatisfactory, just as I’m sure they thought I was an unsatisfactory daughter. But you get on with your mother and your father, do you not?”

“Oh, yes. Everything is as it should be, I suppose.” Her lower lip quivered. Laurette wondered if more drama was about to unfold.

“But?”

“They are very strict, you know. We don’t precisely have
fun.
I think they’re glad I am away at school for most of the year.” She paused. “They didn’t seem to mind at all when the marquess wrote to them and asked their permission for me to stay away for the summer.”

Laurette closed her eyes. Her cousins were perfectly worthy people, if a bit dull. They were much older, probably finding Beatrix to be more spirited as she grew. Just the week at Stanbury Hill had transformed her quiet child, given her a sparkle Laurette had rarely seen. They would probably look at her now and see a Laurette waiting to happen.

To be reckless. Indiscreet. Shameful. All the things that had brought Laurette heartbreak. She could not bear for her daughter to be hurt as she was.

She could not bear her daughter’s hatred if she learned the truth.

Con had probably promised her cousins more money if they allowed him to take Bea in and form this impossible family he planned. And her cousins must be tempted—Jonas Vincent’s business schemes were invariable failures and his wife Mary always grumbled over economies.

The months Laurette spent in Cornwall waiting to give birth had been miserable on so many levels. Her cousins took their Christian charity seriously, but deeply disapproved of her unwed state. They had all been shut up in the dark little house, only Jonas escaping to go to chapel on Sundays and Wednesday nights. When Beatrix was born, passed off as Mary’s, no one was the wiser. Laurette stayed to “help,” nursing the baby until her first little crooked tooth heralded a switch to solid food and cups of milk. She had sat back as Mary was called mama, convincing herself that the situation was for the best.

And it still was, fun or no fun.

“I promise you some amusement when we go home. We’ll get the chickens back, at the very least.”

“All right.” Bea’s nose was still wrinkled. “Do you think Lord Conover will let Nico escort us?”

Laurette had not thought that far ahead. But surely Con would make arrangements for their protection. There were Nico, Tomas and their father Aram to choose from. “I shall let Lord Conover know your preference, but as his guests we will have to let him decide what’s convenient.”

Beatrix stood up and smoothed the wrinkles from her skirts. Her cousin Mary would be horrified that the child had sat in the grass, that she’d run wild for a week without a hat. That accounted for Bea’s new freckles, nowhere near the number of Laurette’s, but enough. Laurette knew from experience no amount of lemon juice or lotion would remove them before Bea’s return to Cornwall.

“Well, if we’re going to leave so soon, I want to spend as much time with the lambs as I can. There’s a set of twins, you know. Mr. Carter said so.”

Laurette thought that sheep by their very placid nature were entirely boring, but whatever pleased her daughter pleased her as well. “Of course, Bea. Go on, then. I think I’m going to stay up here for a while. Explore the territory.”

Beatrix gave her a quick kiss and dashed down the hillock. Laurette cupped her cheek to catch the warmth of the kiss. There had been so few of them, and none as spontaneous as this one. As her daughter grew, they would be separated by miles and circumstance. She would treasure this week that Con had arranged, no matter the deceit on which it was based.

And now to enjoy herself. After being shut up in a carriage for days, it was time to see if her legs were still limber. Laurette decided the waterfall would be a good destination—just far enough away to test her unused muscles. The sound of the water would be a balm to her senses and she’d have some privacy to think, to figure out precisely how she would balance her emotions over the next few days.