Tenacious Trents 01 - A Misguided Lord (5 page)

Startled, Westin looked down at her.
Such a tiny young woman and he wanted to pull her into the curve of
his arm and protect her from the world. “I prefer to think of
myself as serious.”

*

Eleanor was bemused. Never had she met
anyone so stiff and foreboding in her life. Why she agreed to dance
with him she would never know, nor could she begin to guess why he
asked. The man clearly didn’t approve of her.

No, she did know why she agreed. He
was wealthy and titled, just the type of man she was looking for to
wed. But he would never do. He would never take to children as
rambunctious as her siblings. Just look at how he responded today
in the park.

Eleanor had watched Bentley since
their encounter that first night. He was a tall and imposing figure
amongst the crowd. It was impossible not to notice him. He was also
aloof and Eleanor saw him rarely dance, barely smile and never
laugh. It was a shame too. He was handsome enough when he frowned,
dark brows drawn over clear green brooding eyes. How much more
handsome would he be if he smiled? Instead, he preferred to stand
on balconies and look down on the crowd, lording over them as if
they were his minions. Why did Bentley even bother to ask her to
dance?

“
Are you always so
seriously somber?” Eleanor couldn’t help but tease the man. Really,
what did he have to worry about? He was an Earl! A wealthy one at
that.

“
I am always serious,” Lord
Westin replied. “It is a requirement necessitated by my
responsibilities to society.”

Eleanor fought the giggle bubbling up
her throat. He was so serious about being serious, as well as full
of his own self-importance. Really, the man was asking to be
brought down a peg or two.

“
I understand where you
might find humor, Miss Westin. As a young woman, you do not have
the worries on your shoulders as one of my station.”

She almost laughed out loud. If only
he knew. “You know nothing of my circumstance, Lord Bentley. There
are a number of matters I take seriously. However, one must take
what joys life provides and embrace them.”

He arched an eyebrow and looked down
at her. “When you are older, you will hopefully realize that there
are more serious matters to consider than which ball gown one will
wear for the evening, which gentleman one will flirt with, or how
to find the wind for flying a kite.”

The smile fell from her face. He was
rude and arrogant. Add condescending as well. “I assure you, Lord
Bentley, I give little thought to my wardrobe and even less to who
I will encounter. Though you obviously have a very low opinion of
me, or perhaps it is all ladies in general, but there are matters
that I take very seriously and some weigh on my shoulders
constantly.”

A slight condescending smile graced
his lips for a moment. “If that were so, then those difficulties
must be easily put aside as you seem to find enjoyment easily
enough in frivolous pursuits.” The dance ended and he turned to
escort Eleanor back to her grandmother.

“
Laughter is necessary in
the world we live in, Lord Westin. Without it, we would surely all
be reduced to tears,” Eleanor murmured just before they joined her
grandmother.

Lord Bentley bowed and took his leave
and Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief. What was he about? Did he
have no enjoyment in his life? It was rather sad,
actually.

So far this Season, her first and
probably only Season, was not going well. She had yet to meet a
candidate who would be a good husband, and also be willing to take
in her entire family. Of course, she hadn’t actually mentioned her
predicament to anyone, but a dance and a few moments of
conversation were usually enough. Bentley was the last person she
would ever consider, though she doubted he would even ask her to
dance again, or grace her with his presence.

If only Drake, Viscount Acker, were
here. He could instruct her on how to go about and could also
introduce her to the right candidates. He was her dearest friend
and would know how to help her.

But Drake wasn’t here. He was
traveling abroad, and Eleanor was unsure of his return. His mother,
Lady Acker, had introduced her to a few gentlemen, but they would
not do. Drake was the one who knew her and what she required. Lady
Acker would not even consider the practical, she was set on making
a love match and Eleanor didn’t have time for such
nonsense.

*

Though Clayton didn’t wish to, he
found himself pondering Miss Westin’s words later that evening.
What the devil had she meant about laughter and tears? The woman
was deranged. Of course a lady would view all matters with emotion.
They didn’t have the capacity to view life, and world around them,
with objectivity.

Still, he admired her confidence and
candor. It was refreshing. The conversation wasn’t inane and
weather wasn’t mentioned once. Perhaps it was her age. Miss Westin
was older, by at least three years, than the average debutant, not
that he would be as crass as to ask. Why hadn’t her grandfather
presented her before? Until Miss Westin appeared this year, Clay
had no idea Lord Stanhope even had another granddaughter to marry
off.

It would be easy to get lost in her
soft brown eyes and forget about the demands of his station for a
few moments. But such lapses led to trouble. It had almost ruined
his father and Clayton vowed never to repeat that
mistake.

“
What do you think of
Stanhope’s granddaughter?”

Clayton turned to find his brother,
Jordan, standing beside him, along with John.

“
Interesting, I suppose.
Why?” Did Jordan have an interest in Miss Westin? His gut tightened
at the thought. Clay couldn’t understand why, unless it was out of
protection for his younger brother. That must be the
reason.

Jordan shrugged. “No reason. I’ve
rarely seen you dance at one of these functions.”

“
I do need to think about
finding a wife,” Clay reminded him.

“
Miss Westin?” John
grinned. “She is a lovely lady.”

“
She won’t do,” Clay
insisted.

The two brothers looked at him
oddly.

“
Too outspoken. Too
forward. I suspect she is just like Adele and that will never
do.”

His brother’s stiffened at the mention
of their father’s second wife.

Jordan simply shook his
head sadly and John muttered something about judgmental as he
wandered away. They didn’t understand. Their current, and last
step-mother, was a lovely woman, who never gave his father an ounce
of concern while he was alive. His brothers must not remember Adele
the way he did. His father was very clear about what traits to
avoid while looking for a bride.
Remember
son, never marry a woman full of passion, who wants to dance and go
into society. You will never make them happy and they will make you
miserable in the end. A quiet woman who knows her place is the best
wife a man can have. If you want passion, get a
mistress.

But, knowing everything he did, why
was he still drawn to Eleanor Westin? Why did she intrigue him so,
regardless of the fact she would never do?

Jordan stood there studying him. “Do
you even know anything about Miss Westin or has she slighted you
somehow and you judged her without question, like father would
have?”

Being compared to their father didn’t
sit well with Clay. Yes, he had learned much from his father, but
that didn’t mean he wanted to be just like him. For one, he would
never take a switch to his children in a fit of rage.

Jordan lifted a glass of wine from the
tray a footman carried past. “Let me tell you what I
know.”

Jordan always knew the latest gossip.
Of course, Jordan also talked to people. He had the freedom of
doing as he pleased. The benefits of being the spare, and the
ladies adored him, old and young alike.

“
When Miss Westin’s father
died, the youngest son of Stanhope, she and her mother retired to
the country. Eventually Miss Westin’s mother remarried and more
children were born. Unfortunately her step-father and mother passed
away, I believe I heard that it was three or four years ago. If
Miss Westin had it her way, she would still be in the country with
her family but as her guardian, Stanhope forced her to London to
find a husband.”

Admiration for Miss Westin sparked in
his chest and Clay turned to study the crowd until his eyes found
her.

Jordan came over to stand beside him.
“In fact, Miss Westin prefers the country.”

Prefers the
country
. Perhaps he had been hasty in his
judgment of her after all. Just because she seemed happy, laughed
and ran through parks didn’t mean she would make a poor wife. And,
a woman who preferred to take care of younger siblings instead of
partaking in a Season spoke well of her character.

And, she was far more interesting and
prettier than Lady Anne. Perhaps he should reconsider the matter
and Miss Westin.

They didn’t
die
. Clayton re-read the papers he found
stashed in the back of his father’s desk in their London home. Why
had Father lied to them? Why hadn’t he simply said Adele took Julia
and left?

Sick dread filled him. If society knew
Adele still lived, or at least she had been alive three years ago,
then Father could not have married Rose Chambers a year after
Adele’s supposed death. And, even though the marriage had taken
place, with society looking on, it didn’t make Madeline any less a
bastard.

Clay tossed the papers on the desk and
leaned back. Nobody must ever learn, ever. This would crush Rose
and ruin Madeline. Neither deserved the consequences of what could
happen. As it was, Clay wasn’t even sure he would tell his
brothers, though he was curious as to their thoughts on the
matter.

No. He shook his head and stood before
he walked to the sideboard and poured a glass of whiskey. He needed
to figure out what he was going to do before he mentioned this to
anyone. He settled back behind the desk and reviewed the documents
and the ledger once again. Until six years ago his father had sent
funds to an address in Paris. Is that where Adele and Julia lived?
Did they live there now?

There was only one way to get his
answers. Clay stood and strode for the door. Higgins, the butler
appeared. “Send for the solicitor. I need to see him
immediately.”

Clay slammed the door before the man
could respond and returned to his desk. Too agitated to sit, he
paced the room. Why had father lied? What had become of Adele and
Julia? Where were they now? For years he had been torn between the
feelings of hatred and pain, because that woman had abandoned him,
taking his precious sister with him. Julia was supposed to be his
to protect and watch over. That had been his promise to her on the
day she was born. Then that woman ripped her out of his arms when
she was only two.

Clay pushed his fingers through his
hair. Of course, he now knew they were only humoring a child and he
could have no more protected Julia than a puppy, but at the time,
he took the responsibility with all the seriousness of any young
boy wanting to prove himself to his father.

At first he had been hurt by her
abandonment, betrayed. Over the years his feelings turned to
hatred, all fueled by his father. But, if his father had lied about
them being dead, what else had he lied about? According to Father,
Adele had everything a wife could hope for, but she was never
happy. Nothing could please her and it was her fault the family had
been torn apart. Resentment grew and that was all Clay felt
anymore.

He and Jordan had argued over Adele
for years until they agreed never to discuss it again. Jordan
insisted Clay was remembering wrong and that it was father who
drove Adele away. Was Jordan right? He rubbed his face, wishing his
father were alive simply so he could demand answers.

Father always insisted that he should
have never married Adele. He should have bedded her and left her
alone. It used to sicken him with how his father went on. When Clay
became aware of women, and the comfort and desire one could find in
their arms or between their legs, his father took him aside to
explain, and until he took his dying breath his father continued to
remind him that breeding and decorum mattered. A man marries a
comfortable, pleasant and agreeable woman. He loves and finds
pleasure with a passionate one. Lust is for a mistress and never a
wife. To mix the two will ruin a home.

Father’s passion and lust for Adele
had ruined their family and he would never forgive either of them
for that. Had there not been Julia, Clay may not have ever cared.
But from their ill-formed marriage, he had gained, then lost a
sister and that he lay at Adele’s feet. Had she kept to her place
all would be well.

Then again, if she had, he would have
never had Rose as a mother. There was no sweeter, kinder woman on
earth. And, he wouldn’t have gained another sister in
Madeline.

Rage rose within. He would find Adele
and make sure she never stepped foot in England again. He would not
have her ruining the life Rose and Madeline had in their family and
society. But first, he wanted answers. Why had father lied, and
what else had he kept from them?