A Conspiracy of Ravens (23 page)

Trevor looked up and said, “Come in.” The door opened, and the man who called himself his father was there. At that moment Trevor looked like a very wary wild animal seeking a way out of a trap. “’Ave you told ’em?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t expect there were loud cheers.”

Edward managed a smile. “I didn’t expect any.”

“You’re more of a realist, sir, than Lady ’Eather.”

“I expect that’s right. Nobody likes to have a windfall snatched out of his hand, do they now?”

“No, they don’t.”

“This won’t be easy, my boy. I know it won’t, but it’s really up to you.” Edward took a step closer and stared at the features of the young man so much like his own. “You’re my son, but we missed out on so much. You’ll be as frustrated and even afraid here in my world as I would be if I had to make my way in yours. You can walk away from it if you like, but I think you’re a Hayden, and Heather and I will do whatever we can for you. But even so, if you can’t accept us as your parents, I think I would understand.”

Trevor had been on the very verge of leaving, but something about the frankness of the older man standing before him caught his attention. He had learnt to read faces as a matter of self-preservation, and he saw honesty in the face of the man before him. “Well, sir, I don’t feel like yer son, but I’ll stay. If I can’t do it, we’ll soon find out, I guess. I’m either yer son or I ain’t, and I’d like to find out.”

“That’s all that we ask. Come along, then.” Edward stopped and turned back to Trevor. “It won’t be a very pleasant atmosphere, as you say.”

Trevor smiled, saying, “Reckon I’m pretty well used to unpleasant atmospheres.”

Sir Edward turned again and left the room, and Trevor accompanied him. As they passed down the hallway, the young man’s eyes went to the portraits of the Haydens, including one of this man who walked determinedly beside him. They were all men of wealth and education, and Trevor was totally aware of the difference between himself and these people. A sudden memory flickered into his mind of a time when he had been caught in an alley, and a man called Simon Finch had been assaulting a twelve-year-old girl. Trevor had usually not entered into other men’s quarrels, but at the sight of the girl’s terrified face, he screamed, “Get away from ’er, Finch!” He remembered how Finch had turned, pulling a knife, and he had felt the fiery bite of it on his arm. The fight had been short, and Trevor could not help but think how foreign a thing like this would be to Lord Darby or any of the Haydens.

Edward turned to stand beside a door, and Trevor saw the uncertainty in the older man’s face.
Why, this is as ’ard for ’im as it is for me!
The thought startled him, and when Edward said, “Come in, Trevor,” he shrugged and stepped inside.

Edward’s glance went at once to Lady Heather who was smiling at him and biting her lip nervously. He nodded to her, then said in a determined voice,“This is Trevor Hayden. Trevor, I’ve explained the circumstances of your birth, but now, as I have told my family, you are my son, and I’m asking them to accept you. This is my brother Rupert.”

As soon as Trevor saw the man staring at him, he recognized a carnivore. He knew cruelty when he saw it, and he saw nothing soft or easy or gentle in Rupert Hayden. The man did not speak, and Trevor shrugged slightly. “I’m glad to know you, Mr. Rupert.”

“And this is my sister, Leah St. John, and her son, Bramwell.”

Trevor turned to face the pair squarely. He knew little about them. He could make nothing of the woman’s expression, but the young man Bramwell was staring at him with frank distaste and said, “So you think you are a Hayden?”

“So my father tells me.”

St. John’s face reddened, for he had been bested by a guttersnipe. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?” he said.

Edward saw that Trevor was aware of the antagonism in the pair and said quickly, “This is my other brother, Arthur, and his daughter, Gervase.”

“I am very happy to see you, my boy.”

At once Trevor saw that there was a gentleness in Arthur Hayden. He had not the strength of Edward nor the hardness of Rupert. He was so different from Edward that Trevor couldn’t imagine them being brothers.

“I’m happy to meet you, Cousin.” The young woman named Gervase was frank, and there was an honesty in her eyes as well as a curiosity. “I welcome you to the family. I’ve always wanted another cousin, and now I have one.” The warmth of the young woman was like a clear sky after the storm that he had seen in Rupert’s face.

Heather suddenly came over to stand beside Trevor. Her voice was gentle, as usual, but there was a fullness to it as she said, “It’s like going back in time, isn’t it, Edward? When I was seventeen years old, I was taken to a garden party by my parents. I was so shy I just wanted to sink into the earth. Then I looked up, and I saw a young man talking to a very pretty girl. She was my cousin Helen, who was so very accomplished and so beautiful that when I stood beside her, I felt like a witch.” She suddenly smiled at her husband. “And then this young man—who was none other than Edward Hayden—left my cousin and came over and asked me to dance. That was the first time I ever saw Edward.” She turned now to face Trevor, and her voice was unsteady as she said, “And now I see him again exactly as he was that day.”

Trevor was shocked at the woman’s emotion and could not help but believe that she was totally convinced he was her son. He looked at Edward and saw him struggling for control, and he saw that the rest of the people in the room were waiting for him to speak. Trevor straightened up and spoke directly. “Sir Edward and Lady Heather, I don’t know if you knows wot you are doing. I don’t know if I’m your son or not, but I ’ave to warn you, you’re taking a big chance claiming a bloke like me straight out of Seven Dials as your proper son.”

Heather came forward, held out her hand, and the young man from Seven Dials, who had known nothing but hardness in his life, could only smile at her. “We’ll prove that you’re our son. You’re a Hayden, and that’s all there is to it,” Heather said warmly.

Gervase let her glance fall on Leah St. John, and there was no mistaking the animosity that appeared on her features. The same was true of St. John, and more than these two, the expression of Rupert Hayden spoke a deadly hatred toward the young man who was now in line to become the master of the estate and the next Lord of Darby.

FIFTEEN

B
ut surely, Edward, you must see the . . . impropriety . . . of what you’re doing with this young man!”

Rupert Hayden had come early in the morning to confront Edward with obvious anger and bitterness in his face. He stood before Edward, his bulky, strong body rigid. Only by an effort did he keep himself from shouting. He had slept little since discovering that an unknown nobody was to be the next Earl of Darby. It was an office that was to have fallen to him, and now his eyes glowed with anger as he continued. “You don’t know anything about this young man, and even if you did, consider who he is, what he is, what he’s been.”

“He’s had an unfortunate life, Rupert, but with care and guidance and a little compassion we can make him into what he should be.” Edward had been expecting Rupert’s visit. He could understand the big man’s bitterness. Rupert had always been resentful that he had not been the older son, but he had managed to keep it hidden—for the most part. Now as Edward studied Rupert, he saw that there was an anger that went beyond anything he had expected. “Give the boy a chance, Rupert,” he pleaded.

“It’s folly, that’s what it is, folly! From what I can understand, this man has grown up in the worst part of London. He’s consorted with thieves and robbers, criminals of all sorts. He has been to prison. You can’t get that out of a man. As the twig is bent, so the tree will grow.”

“If he’s a Hayden, he has good blood in him, and I’m convinced that he is. Just look at the pictures of our father and our grandfather. How much he looks like them!”

The argument went on for some time, with Rupert growing angrier and more bitter and Edward trying harder and harder to pacify Rupert. Finally he said, “I know you had expected to gain the title at my death. And that was my intention. I never made any secret of it. But you know how these things work. The oldest son is the legitimate heir, and I intend to pour myself into making Trevor the kind of man we’ll be proud of. But I guarantee you’ll be provided for at my death.”

Rupert ground his teeth together, and his voice dripped with fury. “All my life I’ve given to you in service, Edward, and now you shove me out and put that outsider in my place!” He whirled and stormed out the door before Edward could answer.

Edward frowned. The interview had left him shaken. He was not a man who enjoyed controversy, and he well understood that Rupert had, indeed, dedicated his life to Silverthorn. He knew every inch of the grounds, every laborer. He kept the books so that Edward was never troubled with the details of administering a large estate.
I know what he’s going through, and I wish I could do
something about it.
He sat there thinking, trying to find a way to pacify Rupert. Finally, with a sigh, he left the room and went out to the small sitting parlour where he found Heather sitting at a window. He sat down beside her and said abruptly, “I’ve just had a rather unpleasant time with Rupert.”

Heather looked up, her eyes compassionate. “I know it’s hard on him. He’s been a good manager of the estate.”

“Yes, but that’s not what he wants.”

“I understand. He expected to get the title, but now that can never be. I know it will be unpleasant for you.”

The two sat there talking, and Edward found himself growing calmer. He looked out the window and saw Gervase playing with the huge Great Dane she had raised from a puppy.

He opened the window and called out, “Gervase, come in here for a moment, will you? But leave that monster of a dog outside.”

“Yes, Uncle Edward.”

Edward turned and shut the window. Moments later Gervase came in. Her cheeks were red with the cold and with exercise, and her dark eyes were dancing. “I love wintertime. I hope it snows some more.”

“Well, I don’t. Nasty stuff to get through.” He studied Gervase and could not help but smile. “You and that dog make a pair. I think he’s as big as you are.”

“Not quite.”

“You’re going to spoil him.”

Gervase came over and reached up to straighten Edward’s cravat. “You’re a fine one to talk, Edward Hayden. You’ve spoiled me to the bone ever since I was a child.”

Heather suddenly laughed. “He certainly has. I don’t think there’s ever a thing she wanted that you haven’t gotten her, Edward.”

Indeed, this was true. Edward and Heather had both become almost inordinately fond of Gervase. She had been only four when Arthur had returned to live at Silverthorn. He was mourning the death of his wife, and Edward and Heather had practically raised her. Edward, especially, was as fond of her as a man will grow fond of a young girl. He had taken pride in her intelligence, her wit, her strength, and Heather had once said, “You couldn’t have loved a child of your own more than you love Gervase.” Now as he studied her, he admired her beauty.

“I want you to do me a favor, Gervase.”

“Why, of course. What is it?”

For a moment Lord Darby hesitated, and then he said, “How do you think Trevor is doing?”

“Bad!”

Edward was shocked at her bluntness. “Bad? Why do you say that? He’s only been here a few days.”

“He’s afraid, Uncle Edward.”

Edward blinked with surprise. “Afraid? I don’t see that. He seems to be finding his way.”

“No, he’s not,” Gervase said firmly. “He’s smart, Uncle, and he knows that some people in this family don’t accept him—never will accept him.”

“They’ll come around.”

Gervase gave her uncle an odd look. “You always think the best of people. That’s good—and it’s bad.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I think it’s wonderful how you can accept almost anyone, but people impose upon you.”

“Well, you certainly do!” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve just been a big toy for you ever since you were a child. Anyway, I want you to spend some time with Trevor. You’re the same age. You ought to have a lot in common.”

Gervase suddenly laughed. She had a marvelous laugh, free and clear, and her whole face lit up. “Uncle Edward, you’re so smart—and so dense. What in the world do Trevor and I have in common besides our age? We might as well be from different countries or even different planets.”

Edward opened his mouth but found he had nothing to say to that. “I’m worried about him, Gervase. I know he’s lonely, and it’s difficult for him. Heather and I are doing all we can, but I think you could do a lot to make him feel more at home.”

“Why, of course I will, Uncle Edward. I’ll take him riding.”

“Fine! He needs to learn horses. By the time the hunt comes around, I hope that he’ll be able to join us.”

“I’m not sure that Trevor will find fox hunting his favourite thing.”

“Why not?”

“Because fox hunting was not part of his world. I think you have to grow up with such a foolish sport to appreciate it!” She laughed again, turned, and seemed to bounce from the room.