Realm 06 - A Touch of Love (4 page)

“Here, Ma’am.” The boy elbowed his way through the crowd to bury his tearful face in her skirts.

Lucinda instinctively knelt before the child and wrapped the boy in her embrace. “Are you injured?” she whispered.

A loud snort announced young Simon meant to be strong. “My fault,” he hiccupped.

Lucinda caressed the boy’s cheek. “It is no one’s fault.” Her ankle throbbed, and she suspected it would be a bright shade of purple tomorrow. “May we go home?” she whispered, and the child nodded.

Straightening, she acknowledged the crowd. “I am gladdened by your concern for the boy and me. I shall likely experience a tender ankle tomorrow, but the child and I shall recover.” She wished desperately to remove her boot to examine her injury. With that, Lucinda took a tentative step forward. She kept a brave face and did not wince.

A plump woman handed Simon his lost hat, and Lucinda made a point of extending her gratitude. Mrs. Peterman, her landlady, met them at their door. “I thought I might require a new letter,” the woman announced as she hustled
them into the dark hallway. “I sees it all from the window,” which likely meant the landlady had spied on her comings and goings.

“We are only a bit roughed,” Lucinda assured. “Simon and I shall be right as nails in a few days. Shall we not, Simon?”

The boy kept his eyes downcast, but he answered, “Yes, Ma’am.”

Lucinda had permitted Mrs. Peterman to believe the boy was hers. The landlady had asked few questions, and Lucinda had gladly kept her own counsel. “If’n ye require anything ye send the boy down to me,” Mrs. Peterman called as Lucinda gingerly climbed the stairs.

“I shall, Ma’am.” Lucinda leaned heavily against the rail. “Come along, Simon. I shall require your assistance.”

Three days
. Carter smiled through the personal pain. For three days his father had turned every conversation to Lawrence Lowery’s endeavors.
It is a good thing I love and admire my brother
, he thought ironically.
Or else I might wish to strangle Law.

“I shall attempt to keep your father occupied,” the baroness said softly as they strolled along the wharf. Carter enjoyed the comforting feel of her fingers on his arm, an acknowledgement of her love. When he had served in the East, he had actually missed his mother’s good sense and her company. Of course, he had never mentioned such longings to the others. They would have teased him as being a “babe in the womb” and it had been difficult enough to prove him worthy of the honor of being chosen to such an elite group. As his unit’s youngest, Carter required not another reason for his mates to label him. “Although I spoke of being away for a year, I suspect six months may be more to the baron’s limits.”

Carter patted the back of her hand. “I understand, Mother. You are placing your happiness on hold to permit Lawrence to redefine his role as Blakehell’s heir.”

His mother cackled, “Oh, my darling, Carter.” She patted his cheek. “You think we all as altruistic as are you.” Her gloved hand caressed his chin. “I would love to claim your goodness, but I must confess I have long wished to see part of the world beyond Derbyshire and London, but Niall has always claimed Blake’s Run would suffer in our absence. I unapologetically used Lawrence’s
situation with Arabella to leverage my own desires. Your father experienced regret at your brother’s learning of his manipulations. When I spoke on Law’s behalf, the baron agreed to withdraw, and I seized the opportunity to advance my wishes. If I could, I would visit all the lands you have known. You have no idea how envious I have been of your youth and your freedom.”

Carter thought of the slums and the palaces he had seen. Both held a country’s most devious men. He chose to speak more candidly than usual, “Of course, Father would know remorse at losing control of Law’s every thought. His remaining children have known no such care.”

His mother’s expression tightened with disapproval. “Your father cares deeply for each of his children, and Niall Lowery would walk through fire for you and your siblings.” Her lips were taut with emotion. “I cannot deny the baron has been singular in his need to direct Lawrence’s steps.”

“The baron’s compulsion to control Lawrence…” he began.

The baroness stopped suddenly. Her eyes darkened in condemnation. “Carter Stephan Lowery,” she said in the way of all mothers when they call their children by their full names. “I shall not hear you speak poorly of your father. You hold no knowledge of why the baron acts upon his compunctions, and, therefore, have no right to criticize.”

Carter held her hand over his heart. “Then explain it to me,” he pleaded. “I am disposed to know the truth of your narrative.”

“It is not my tale to share,” the baroness said softly. She caressed his cheek. “Why can you not turn your head to the baron’s stubbornness? Your sisters have learned to accept your father’s ways. Niall’s singularity has caused no real harm.”

Carter said incredulously. “Father,” he hissed, “meant to make a match between Law and Miss Dryburgh! The baron would have
loved
Lawrence enough to see his eldest son miserable.”

His mother protested, “I would have put a stop to the baron’s maneuverings.”

“Possibly. That is if you had returned to Blake Run’s in time to know of Lawrence’s dilemma,” Carter corrected. “If you recall, you were in Staffordshire for Marie’s lying in. By the time you had heard of the match, Law would have been pledged to Miss Dryburgh, and Lawrence would not honorably call off the nuptials. Father would never have tolerated such shame on the family name.”

“Perhaps,” the baroness said enigmatically. “I would like to think Lawrence would have stood his ground.”

Carter held both his doubts and his words. “I am pleased Lawrence and Arabella have found each other. I pray my new sister gives Law many sons to secure the future baron’s peace.”

The baroness whispered, “And I pray the present baron sees those children and knows his efforts to assure the barony’s future has come to fruition.” Carter could not imagine Blake’s Run under anyone but Niall Lowery’s care; although he knew his father had not assumed his reign until Carter was well into leading strings; there had been great ceremony when Nigel Lowery passed on, and his only son became Baron Blakehell.

They looked up to observe the baron’s approach. His father had personally seen to the loading of their luggage aboard ship. “The ship is sound,” the baron announced. Carter wished to remind his father, he had already sent men on board to examine the ship’s reliability, but he bit back his protest. Despite their often-contentious nature, Carter would never permit his parents to know danger. His position as “Shepherd’s” assistant permitted Carter access to the ship and beyond.

“Captain Orson has an excellent record,” Carter assured. “Your journey to France will be a short one. I have sent word ahead. Several of my associates will greet you and escort you to the villa I have procured for your use. You will have access to a chaise and four, as well.”

His mother squeezed Carter’s arm. “Your diligence on our behalf is duly noted, is it not, Niall?”

The baron’s cheeks flushed with color.
From anger or embarrassment
? Carter wondered. “Of course, it is noted,” his father said brusquely. “Yet, it is no more than what should be expected from a dutiful son.”

Dutiful is crossing each “t,”
Carter considered.
I have known nothing but duty all my life, but never the much-desired praise for a minor son.
He
dutifully
said, “Then I am pleased to have been of service.”

“Come along, Fernalia,” his father said. “I would prefer to be one of the first aboard. Less riff raff in the small boats.” The baron extended his hand to his wife.

She nodded her agreement before turning to Carter. “You will see to your sisters’ cares. They have capable husbands, but I trust no one but you to know what is best for the family. You are my rock–my anchor,” she said seriously.

It had always been so. He and the baroness had held a relationship different from all the others. “I will make a nuisance with each,” he said with an easy grin. “And I will show Baby Harry a sketch of his grandmother so the boy does not forget his ‘Nana’ in your absence.”

Tears misted the baroness’s eyes. “Do not say as such, or I shall press the baron into returning to Field Hall to spend more time with Maria and Sheffield.”

Carter placed his mother’s hand into the baron’s. She wrapped her fingers about her husband’s arm. “Enjoy your journey, Mother. You have many years to spoil Baby Harry. It is important to hold no regrets. See part of the world beyond England’s shores and know your family adores you.” He extended his hand to his father. “Be safe, Sir.”

The baron reached into his inside pocket. Removing a thick folded document, he handed it to Carter. “Give this to Lawrence, if, Heaven forbid, an accident occurs. My will addresses the estate and its holdings.”

Carter placed the paper inside his jacket. “And this?” he asked curiously.

The baron shrugged away the question. “There is no need unless the unspeakable occurs. I trust you to keep the document in a safe place.”

Carter nodded his agreement. “Inform me of your return. If it is available, I will send the yacht.”

His mother kissed his cheek one last time before walking away with the baron. Carter was tempted to read his father’s words. He possessed the skill to remove the sealing wax and later replace it without anyone knowing of his duplicity, but he could not be so callous as to break his father’s trust.

He was nearing his waiting coach when he heard his name called. Carter turned to greet Symington Henderson, one of the Realm’s post war recruits. “You sought me out?” he asked as the third son of Lord George Henderson, the Earl of Johnseine, approached.

The man bowed in respect. “Shepherd wished me to locate you. I called in at Kent, and the duke spoke of your escorting your family to Dover.”

“What is Shepherd’s pleasure?” Carter said sarcastically as he accepted the written instructions from Henderson.

“Something of a suspicious Chinese ship in Liverpool. I am to assist you. Monroe has ridden north to retrieve Baron Swenton,” Henderson explained as Carter read Shepherd’s missive.

He slid the note into his pocket. “Have you secured horses?”

“Aye, Sir.”

“Permit me to give my coachman instructions, and then we will depart.”

Henderson nodded his agreement before striding away in the direction of the public stables.

Carter secured his father’s papers in a large case under the coach’s seat. “Tell Merriweather to send clothing on to Liverpool and to secure these papers in my private safe,” he told his trusted footman Bines. “I have no idea how long I will be in the port city. I will send word for you and Merriweather to follow when I know the details.”

“Aye, Sir.”

“Be of good speed,” he instructed. “I prefer not to be long without Merriweather’s care.”

“Mr. Merriweather will not fail you, Sir.”

Carter nodded his farewell and quickly followed in Henderson’s footsteps. The man was waiting by the gate with two geldings. Carter accepted the reins of the gray and brown one. He hated to know a saddle so soon; in reality, he had another week of his holiday remaining. He had thought to hire a housekeeper for Huntingborne Abbey while time permitted and to set his small staff to several tasks before returning to his position in London. “So much for well placed plans,” he grumbled as he adjusted the saddle’s stirrups.

“Mr. Shepherd is quite thorough in his instructions,” Henderson ventured.

“Shepherd demands no more of me than I do of myself.” Carter declared as he set his foot into the stirrup. Catching the horn, Carter lifted his weight to sit upon the seat, but as he shoved off the unfamiliar horse pranced in place; and Carter released the horn as his foot pulled free. At that same moment, a bullet whizzed over his head.

He spun around to find cover behind a large rain barrel. Henderson was pressed close behind him. Carter scanned the area, but saw nothing unusual.

“My God, Sir!” Henderson said on a thready exhale. “If the horse had not pulled free of your grasp, the bullet would have hit you square in the heart.”