The Hawk and the Jewel (Kensington Chronicles 1) (13 page)

The duke, having had his say, moved on, and Brandon heeled his horse to Sunny's side. He was ready to launch into an hour's lecture on manners, but Sunny stopped him with the first question out of her mouth.

"Brandon, why did you introduce me as Lady Sunny Gallagher? And why do Sally and Martha call me 'Lady Sunny' or 'my lady'?"

Brandon reined Nick to an abrupt halt. Sunny had never questioned her title, so Brandon had assumed she understood. It was a cold morning but not raining, and Brandon made an instantaneous decision to explain things right then. He swung off Nick's back and approached Sunny's horse.

"I realize we haven't gone far, but I'd like to walk while I answer your question."

Sunny looked a bit surprised but didn't resist when Brandon reached for her waist. After walking a short distance, they turned off onto a side trail and Brandon began.

"How much do you know about our royalty, Sunny?"

"I've been taught all about England. You have a queen now, Queen Victoria, and she's married to Albert, who is the Duke of Saxony."

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"That's right, but below our royal ranks, England has other titles. Dukes, marquesses, earls, barons-have you heard of those?"

Sunny looked incredibly pleased. That very morning she had been reading in an English history book and had seen titles of this type everywhere. Duke was the highest title; in feet, there were less than 40 dukes in all of England, and Sunny could see that this rank was of considerable importance. After duke came marquess, then earl, viscount, and baron. She explained what she had read to Brandon, who looked relieved over her understanding.

"But Brandon," she went on before he could, "I still don't know what that has to do with me."

"Your father was the Marquess of Woodbum,** he explained, "and your mother, as his wife, was the Marchioness. Thus, as his daughter, you are Lady Sunny."

Sunny's eyes widened at this, but Brandon kept talking.

"The oldest male in the family inherits the title, so your brother Randolph is now the marquess. His son will have the title someday, but for the time being, Miles is an earl."

Sunny's eyes continued to grow, and Brandon found himself uncomfortable. He didn't want to sound like a braggart when he came to his own position, but he wanted to dear all of this up immediately.

"Your brother Douglas is also an earl and so is Foster. An earl's wife is a countess, so your sister is the Countess of Penbrook.

"I am a marquess, but as oldest male, when my grandfather dies, I will assume his title of duke.**

Sunny suddenly looked shocked, and Brandon was more uncomfortable than ever. "Lord Undley," she whispered. "The man you introduced to me. Is he a duke?"

"Yes," Brandon answered with great relief, seeing he had been too full of himself to think that she was going to be the least bit impressed with his title.

"I told him he had been too hard on his horse. That was rude, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was." Brandon's voice was gentle, but he was also tempted to laugh-"His horse was quite blown, but it
is
his animal and none of our business. I've also known nun for years, and he's a very decent chap."

"Did I embarrass you?"

Brandon shook his head. "He was most understanding, but next time you might not get off so easily. You're going to need to learn to keep your opinions to yourself, especially where your elders are concerned.

"You're in an unusual position, Sunny, because your age and generation don't really go together. At times you're going to find yourself surrounded by your brothers and sisters, but feeling like their child instead of their sibling. For the time being, just keep quiet unless you're spoken to, and you'll get along fine."

Sunny was still taking all of this in as they finished their ride and headed back to the house. Lunch was being served and as was the pattern, the twins joined them. The meal was just ending when a messenger arrived looking for Brandon.

The news was not good. Brandon's grandfather had taken a turn for the worse, and Brandon's presence was requested immediately. He left with just the briefest of thanks, and Sunny was left feeling nearly bereft. She was back in her room, feeling very much at loose ends, when she finally realized what Brandon had said about his own title. His grandfather was a duke and he would inherit the title. Brandon would be a duke someday!

Then Sunny thought about the feet that someone you love must die in order for that to happen. It was the same in Darhabar. Ahmad Khan would need to die before his oldest son could take the throne. The thought gave Sunny mixed emotions. A feeling of despondency stole upon her and lingered for most of the afternoon.

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brandon watched the motionless face of his grandfather and thought of the precious years he had known him. He let his mind retrace the years to his first remembrance of this man. Brandon had been four at the time, lively and precocious, a trial to nurse and nanny alike. He'd just escaped his nanny, making a clean getaway from the nursery only to charge into the hall and run directly into the long, darkly clad legs of the man now lying in the bed.

Brandon remembered looking up into his face, expecting to see anger and seeing only unspeakable delight. Brandon's face mirrored the joy when he was then scooped up into his grandfather's great arms and carried into the library.

An hour of pure bliss followed as Brandon was able to ask all the questions he wanted and touch everything within his reach. But the memories he savored most from that hour so many years ago were his grandfather's eyes and the love he had seen there.

Those eyes still held love when they looked at Brandon, but now Brandon couldn't see them. Three days had passed since Brandon had been summoned to Bracken, his grandfather's home-three days of not seeing the love in his grandfather's eyes. The sudden thought of never seeing those loving eyes again was so painful that Brandon felt tears fill his own. Brandon prayed as the pain squeezed around his heart.

Tour timing is perfect, Lord, and if You're taking him today; You'll give me strength. Ithank You for the years we've had and that he

knows Tou. Give each of us the comfort we need to face the days and hours ahead.

Brandon finished his prayer by petitioning God on his mother's behalf. His mother, Lady Andrea, was in a chair by the window. She was closer to the duke than anyone else on earth, and losing him was going to affect her deeply. As she stared out the second story window at the winterscape below, her eyes were dry but sober at the thought of losing this man who had been more like a father to her than a father-in-law.

With his chin resting on his steepled fingers, Brandon let his gaze roam the room. It was a beautiful suite, not depressing like so many masculine rooms, but manly nonetheless with its heavy, carved furniture and deep green decor. Brandon's eyes had just taken in the white marble fireplace when something made him look back at his grandfather. The old man was staring at him, his eyes tired but filled with the unwavering love that Brandon had missed so desperately. When Brandon could speak, he did so softly.

"Welcome back."

"Thank you, Hawk." The elderly voice was low.

Brandon looked at him for a moment, and then asked the question he knew would be understood.

"Are you slipping away from us, Papa?"

Milton Hawkesbury moved his head on the pillow. "I don't think so. I don't feel the pain as much now, and in fact I'd like some water."

Having heard the voices, Brandon's mother joined them. She bent low over the bed to assist her father-in-law with a cup. A few more words were exchanged, and then the old man slept again. After he'd dropped off, Brandon and his mother recognized their need for a rest from his bedside. They left him in the care of his nurse and went downstairs for lunch.

Dexter was just getting in from a trip to the north and wanted to go straight to the sickroom.

"I think he might pull through." This came from Brandon as the three stood close and spoke softly.

"I'd like to see him."

"I think that's a good idea," his mother said. "He just went back to sleep, but as Brandon said, he'll probably come through, and you'll be there when he wakes."

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"Right. I'll sit with him for a while. Has Chelsea been here?" "Yesterday," his brother answered. "Both she and Holly." Dexter nodded before turning for the stairs and taking the flight

two steps at a time. After his departure his mother had a lunch tray

sent up to him in the duke's room.

Two days later the duke was sitting in a chair by the window. He was still very weak, and shouldn't have been out of bed, but his color was good and his eyes sparkled with humor as he teased his great-granddaughter.

"What do you mean you're not married?"

"But Grandpa," Holly told him, her eyes wide with pleasure and suppressed laughter, "I'm only 15."

"I'll bet you've got a string of young men chasing you. She has, hasn't she, Chelsea?"

"Not quite a string, but she is rarely without companionship." Chelsea watched her daughter dimple on these words.

"Just as I thought," the old man stated, his loving eyes on Holly's smiling face.

Brandon caught a look of fatigue at that moment and suggested his grandfather return to bed.

This earned him a scowl, but the duke's voice was not angry, just matter-of-fact. "I am a bit tired, but if I go to bed, you'll all leave."

"I'll stay and talk with you," Andrea offered, and Brandon, Chelsea, Dexter, and Holly exited the room.

"Everyone is going to be at Rand and Chelsea's for Christmas this year and then here for Boxing Day. You'll probably have more company than you'll know what to do with."

Andrea made light conversation until the eldest Hawkesbury was settled once again under the bedclothes, halfway hoping he wouldn't remember that everyone had originally planned to spend Christmas there. He looked drained, but his color was still good and his eyes alert. Andrea desperately wanted to see him improve.

"I've got to get better so Hawk can leave."

"I'm sure he's in no hurry to be away." Andrea's voice was gentle as she adjusted the pillows.

"Maybe not, but I won't see his son if he doesn't marry soon."

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**I wouldn't be too sure about that. This is the fourth scare you've given us this year, and here you are, as sassy as the day you were born."

The old man ignored the impertinent remark. "And what about you, Andrea? Were you not tied here, you could marry again."

Andrea regarded him soberly from her chair by the bed. "IVe buried two husbands, Milton. I'm not sure I could do it again."

The duke reached for her hand, their understanding going deeper than words. They sat together without talking until the old man fell asleep.

111Ill

Q/wntw~

sunny sat on her bed, looking into the wardrobes in her room. Her clothes had been delivered, and even though her face showed disinterest, her mind raced. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined such a wardrobe. As the emir's daughter, she had everything her heart could desire, but this,
this
was more than she could fathom.

Madam Angelica had produced dozens of sketches for examination, but Sunny never understood that she was to have so many things. There were at least three dozen dresses, five riding habits, more than a half-dozen evening gowns, four fur-trimmed cloaks, and underclothes. More than Sunny cared to have in a lifetime.

The clothes she'd had on ship, the ones she had been so proud of before they landed, had vanished. Only the burgundy velvet with the pink satin collar and cuffs remained. Sunny had been wearing it when Sally cleared away her other clothes that morning to make room for the new arrivals. The twins had come in after the new wardrobe was delivered and insisted she put on something new.

Sunny looked at her closed bedroom door and then slid off the bed and onto the floor to lie on her stomach. She reached beneath the bed and pulled the hidden dress toward her. She hated herself for the tears, brought on from just the feel of the fabric.

Could it really be just a few weeks past that she'd worn this dress to her birthday celebration with Brandon? At the moment it all seemed like a long-ago dream. With the dress held under her arm she

went to her high dresser and pulled out the star Kyle had made her. She was fingering the delicate rope with sweet remembrance when someone knocked on the door. Before Sunny could stop her, Sally entered and spotted her with the dress.

"I came to fix your hair for supper, my lady, but I see I've missed one of your dresses. Would you like me to take it now?" Sally had started to move toward her, but stopped abruptly when Sunny's chin rose in what Sally affectionately thought of as Sunny's princess stance.

"I wish to keep this dress." Sunny's voice matched her pose.

"I think that's very smart, my lady," said the wise Sally. "Here, let me hang it at the end of your wardrobe." Sally's smile was genuine, but Sunny hesitated.