The American Earl (24 page)

Dear Julia,

I have thought long and hard about whether I should write you this letter, but I have decided you are entitled to know why I left London so abruptly. My father has ordered me not to communicate with you, but one of the grooms is posting this letter from the local inn.

I have never liked a girl as much as I like you, and I know you like me in return. It was this mutual affection that caused my hasty removal from London. There are some facts that you and I were not aware of, and I think you should be made cognizant of them.

My father, the Earl of Sheffield, is your father as well. He and your mother had a long-term affair and you were the result of that relationship. As your mother was married, her husband had little choice but to accept you as his own child. Unfortunately, this sort of thing is not uncommon among the English upper class.

I have told you this because I didn’t want you to think that I had simply lost interest and discarded you.  I would never do such a thing.  What happened was that your aunt became alarmed at the closeness she saw between us and wrote to my father, telling him that he should call me home. 

I hope I have done the right thing in confiding this information to you.  My reason was purely selfish – I like my new sister far too much to lose her.  With our relationship on a new footing, perhaps we can actually hunt with the
Quorn together one day.

Your loving brother,

Tom

I read the letter once.  Then I read it again, and then one more time.  It wasn’t until I had looked at that signature for the third time that I fully comprehended what Tom – my
brother –
had told me.

I wasn’t a Marshall.  There was not a drop of Marshall blood in my body.  For all the years of my life I had been living a lie.  I was the bastard child of another man, and it was only my father’s – my
fake
father’s – willingness to allow me into his family that had saved me from being labeled a bastard.

I was stunned.  Frozen.  Aunt Barbara knew about this.  Who else knew?  I saw the faces of the patronesses of Almack’s pass before my eyes.  They knew.  They must know.  Those women of the world knew everything.  And my mother had been a patroness herself; she had been their friend.

I’m not a Marshall.

I had built my whole life on being a Marshall, on carrying the blood of a great English family in my veins.  Being a Marshall was what I was – who I was.  I had been deceived.  I had no right to Stoverton.  I had no right to anything or anyone.  I was no one.  I was a lie. 

I looked around the large, pretty room, with its comfortable bed, elegantly carved mantelpiece and thick expensive rug.  I couldn’t stay here.  I didn’t belong here. How could I look my supposed aunt in the face?  How could I go on pretending that Lizzie was my cousin and Maria my sister?  How could I ever face Evan? 

I couldn’t stay here, but where could I go?  I had nobody.  I wasn’t Lady Julia Marshall; I was an imposter.  No one would take me in.

Every fiber of my being wanted to flee to Stoverton - my safe place, my beloved home.  But I had no right to Stoverton. I wasn’t a Marshall. I was a bastard … a Nothing.

And then I thought of Sir Matthew. He had been the only father I had ever known. He would take me in. He would help me decide what I should do. I’d sneak out to the stable, saddle up Ty, and ride to Sir Matthew’s house.

Then I thought of Maria.  How could I run away and leave Maria?  She would be so frightened for me.  She would feel as if I had deserted her. 

Lizzie will take care of Maria.  I can depend on Lizzie to do the right thing.

My eyes filled with tears as I pictured my little sister – a perfect Marshall with her blue eyes and golden hair. For so many years it had been just the two of us. But I couldn’t take care of her anymore. I didn’t even know if I could take care of myself. I would leave her a note telling her not to worry, that I had found out some upsetting news and was going away for a while. I would write to her when I had sorted things out.

I wrote the letter and propped it on the mantel in my bedroom. Then I went to the wardrobe, took down a small brown bag that would attach to my saddle, and began to pack the few things I would need.

Chapter Thirty-three

When Evan returned to the London house later that afternoon, he found his family in an uproar.

Lizzie met him at the door and grabbed his hand. “Evan, thank God you have come! The most dreadful thing has happened. Julia’s disappeared!”

Evan stared down into her face as if he hadn’t understood. “What do you mean, ‘disappeared?’ She’s probably down in the stable with Ty.”

Lizzie shook her head frantically. “No, she isn’t. But Ty is gone too.”

The sound of light footsteps on the marble floor announced the arrival of Maria.  “Is Julia at Stoverton?” she demanded.  When he shook his head she threw herself into his arms and began to cry. 

Evan looked over her golden head to Lizzie. Lizzie said, “She left Maria a note. She wrote she had learned something upsetting and was going to go away for a while.”

She found out
. 
It was Evan’s immediately thought. But how the hell had she found out? Sheffield wasn’t the kind of man to tell her….

He put Maria away from him gently and asked Lizzie, “Has Tom Winston been in town lately?”

Lizzie frowned in bewilderment. “No, he hasn’t. In fact, Julia was irked that he left without speaking to her. Do you think that’s why she ran away? Because I don’t agree, Evan. She didn’t love Tom Winston. They were only friends. She wasn’t at all upset by Tom’s leaving; she was just a little … well, irked.”

“Has Julia received any letters recently?” he asked, looking from Lizzie to Maria.

Both girls shook their heads. 

“I must speak to your Mama,” he said to Lizzie. “Where is she?”

“She’s in the morning room. She’s very worried about this, Evan.”

“She damn well should be,” he replied grimly and strode down the hallway, still garbed in his caped driving cloak.

Lady Barbara was seated at the elegant French desk that was placed between two windows, but she swung around when she heard the door open. She rose to her feet and went toward her nephew echoing her daughter’s words of a few moments ago, “Evan! Thank God you have come.”

“How long has she been missing?” he demanded, without even greeting her.

“Since yesterday morning. That wretched boy must have communicated with her somehow. It’s all I can think of to account for her acting in such an outrageous way. Where can she have gone?”

“She didn’t go to Stoverton. I only left there a few hours ago and I didn’t see her.”

Lady Barbara turned white. “Oh no. I was so hoping that was where she went.”

The door opened and Lizzie and Maria came in. Lady Barbara turned to them and said in her most chilling and autocratic voice, “I do not want you girls in this room. Go to the library and wait for us there.”

Lizzie came in and sat on the gold tapestry sofa. “I am not going anywhere, Mama. I love Julia and I want to do everything I can to help find her.”

“Your cousin and I will figure this out between us,” Lady Barbara said. “Go to the library, Elizabeth.”

Maria joined Lizzie on the sofa.  “Julia is my sister.  She’s all I have in the world.”  A heartbreaking little sob caught in her throat and she looked at Evan with huge blue eyes.  “You have to find her, Evan.  You
have
to.”

“What could have upset her so much that she would do this?” Lizzie asked. “It’s not like Julia. She would never leave Maria.”

Evan rubbed his eyes and leaned his shoulders against the pale green wall beside the mantelpiece. He looked from his aunt to the two girls on the sofa. “It’s an ugly story and Julia should never have heard it.”

“What story?” Lizzie demanded. “Does it have to do with Tom Winston?”

“I’m afraid it does,” Evan said.

“
Althorpe!
  Lady Barbara’s voice was outraged.  “Do not dare repeat this story to my daughter.  Do you hear me?  This is not for the ears of young girls.”

“If Julia had to hear it, then I want to hear it too,” Maria said.  “She’s my
sister! 
The only person who ever loved me. I want to know!”

“Absolutely not,” Lady Barbara said. “Both of you go to your rooms.”

Neither girl moved. Evan said, “You English have the most peculiar ideas about young women. Neither Lizzie nor Maria will be corrupted by what I have to say, Aunt Barbara. They’re intelligent young women and they’re deeply worried about Julia. So am I, and they might have some idea about where she went if they know what has happened.”

“Evan, I forbid you…” Lady Barbara began.

Evan’s voice over-rode hers. “Aunt Barbara and Uncle Gordon were concerned about the relationship that appeared to be growing between Julia and Tom Winston. They sent me down to Sheffield Manor to inform Tom’s father of the situation and to ask him to call Tom home from London. Lord Sheffield did so.”

“But why did Tom have to go home?” Lizzie asked.

“Because Tom’s father, Lord Sheffield, is Julia’s father as well.” Evan looked at Maria and his voice gentled. “Your mother had an affair with Lord Sheffield and that is how Julia was conceived. She and Tom are half brother and sister.”

Lady Barbara moaned, threw herself into a chair and covered her eyes.

“Good heavens,” Lizzie said, wide-eyed.

“It’s just like
Oedipus Rex
,” Maria said. 

“What’s that?” Lizzie asked.

Maria turned to her cousin and explained, “
Oedipus Rex
,
is a play about a man who marries his mother without knowing she’s his mother.”

“I never got to read that!” Lizzie said.

“Oh My God!” Lady Barbara cried. “What is happening to my child?”

Evan continued. “Lord Sheffield promised me he would instruct Tom not to communicate with Julia, but I’m certain he must have. There’s nothing else I can imagine that would have thrown her into such a state.”

Maria said slowly, “She found out she wasn’t a Marshall.”

“Yes,” Evan said.

“Oh Evan.” Maria had tears in her eyes. “Julia has always been so proud of being a Marshall. She knows everything about the family. She can tell you the name of every earl and what he did and what his children did too. This news must have been devastating.”

Maria had not said anything Evan didn’t already know.  He said, “Julia’s whole world has been turned upside down and she had to get away from us.  Maria, think.  Where might she go?  She wouldn’t go to Stoverton because she’d feel she didn’t belong there anymore. Is there anywhere else she might have sought refuge?”

Maria bent her head, thinking hard.  “If she couldn’t go to Stoverton…” Her head jerked up. “She might have gone to the squire. Sir Matthew. She’s very fond of him and he of her.” Her face brightened. “I think that’s where she must be, Evan. He’d take her in. His wife is dead, so he has no one else to consult. I think you should go to Sir Matthew’s.”

Evan looked at his aunt.  “My horses are tired, Aunt Barbara.  May I have two of your carriage horses harnessed to the curricle?”

Lady Barbara looked as if she had aged ten years.  “Yes,” she said.  “You may.”

* * * *

Evan drank a cup of hot tea and ate some bread and cold roast beef while waiting for the horses to be harnessed.  With Sammy sitting beside him, he drove southeast into Kent, along the same roads he had driven earlier in the opposite direction.

The sun was dropping in the sky by the time they reached their destination.  The squire’s house was a solid brick edifice with the front door placed symmetrically between three tall windows.  Three perfectly spaced dormers peered down from the hipped roof.  Evan scarcely glanced at it, however.  He turned the curricle onto the graveled drive that wound around to the back of the house, where he expected to find the stables.  He had a suspicion that if Julia was indeed here, she might have sought solace from the horses. 

Just as Evan had thought, the stable, built of the same brick as the house, stood at the far end of a neatly scythed lawn. Evan had to discipline himself to keep the horses to a walk. Even from a distance he could see that there was someone in the stable yard with a horse. The horse was a bright chestnut and the girl was Julia.

She was bending over the horse’s rear offside hoof, picking out the dirt.  When she heard the sound of the curricle she returned Ty’s hoof to the ground and straightened up.  Evan stopped the curricle only a few feet away and their eyes met.

He saw the blood drain from her face. He wanted to leap from the carriage, catch her in his arms and tell her not to be afraid, that he loved her and would take care of her forever. Her face told him this was not a good idea.

He swung down from the carriage and said as he walked toward her, “I thought I might find you here.  You and I need to talk.”

Chapter Thirty-four

When I saw Evan walking toward me, it took every ounce of courage I had not to turn and run. Instead I stiffened my back, stood my ground, and answered him. “I don’t want to talk to you. Go away.”

“I have no intention of going anywhere,” he replied, stopping directly in front of me. 

As always, his height made me feel too small - I had to tilt my head way back to look up into his face.  He was standing with his back to the west and the fading sun illuminated his hair.  He was so beautiful, and I loved him so much, but I was not giving in to him.  I still had some pride left.

“I want you to come back to Stoverton with me,” he said.

I took a step away.  I couldn’t help myself.  “I am never going to Stoverton again, and you know the reason why.” 

“Nonsense.  You love Stoverton; it’s your home.”