Never Turn Away (Kellington Book Six) (3 page)

Not that she was supposed to know of such things, of
course.

One of her cousins had even offered his services to
both run the estate and to see to her more intimate needs since his wife would
almost certainly never visit the country to find out.  That he was the current
Earl of Larsen, the title he’d inherited from her dear father, made the offense
all the worse.   She told him she was interested in neither part of the
proposition and that she looked forward to having a nice long coze with his
wife when next she was in London.

So Evelyn had been leading a satisfying, if not
slightly lonely, existence in Oxfordshire.  If not for her recent troubles that
had prompted her to contact the Duke of Lynwood, she would be quite contented
with her life.

At least that’s what she tried to convince herself
to be true on long, lonely winter nights.

She knew the Duke of Lynwood, though not well.  He
and the Kellingtons had rarely visited the Oxfordshire estate through the years,
but she’d kept Lynwood abreast of important county news when warranted.  His
estate was well run and the families of the county held him in high esteem.

She’d been most unprepared to meet his
representative.  And, quite frankly, had she known she would be meeting a tall,
strong man with dark hair, chocolate brown eyes and a day’s whiskers upon his
chiseled jaw, she might have dressed with more care.  Actually, that wasn’t
true.  She’d gone to that field in search of her ewe.  It would have been
ridiculous to dress any differently than she had.  Truth be told, the problem
began not when he evidently thought her a farmer’s daughter, but when he
realized she was a lady.

This Inspector Stapleton had treated her not as an
heiress, but as a normal farm lass.  He had joked with her and even laughed at
himself.  She certainly hadn’t encountered many men like him through the
years.   But then everything had changed when she’d revealed who she was. 
Though, really, she couldn’t have resisted teasing him about brushing her own
hair.  

Now they were at her house and it had grown awkward
between them. 

“Lady Evelyn, pray forgive my bad manners,” said
Joseph with a bow.  “Had I known…”

“Had you known I was an earl’s daughter and not a
shepherdess, neither of us would have enjoyed ourselves quite so much.”

“I didn’t come to Caversham to enjoy myself, my
lady.”

“What a pity,” she replied in barely more than a
whisper.  She was astonished by how bold she was being, but she couldn’t
remember the last time she’d enjoyed herself so much.  She did not wish to
revert to the formality demanded by their different stations.

The inspector cleared his throat.  “When might I
call upon you to discuss the issue that is troubling you?”

“If you wish, we might discuss it over supper.  I am
sure my cook can give us a hot meal to warm ourselves.”  She was disheartened
to see a fleeting look of panic or dismay or perhaps even mild horror in the
handsome inspector’s eyes.  She could have hit herself for having been too
forward.  But, really, the thought of continuing their banter from earlier was
so much more enticing than yet another evening of dining by herself with the
winter cold outside her windows.  Not to mention it would be a relief to
finally discuss the situation with someone who might be able to help.

Inspector Stapleton reclaimed his composure.  “While
I thank you for the kind invitation, I had only just arrived from London not a
quarter of an hour prior to meeting your stubborn ewe.  I am in sore need of a
ba…” 

Here he stopped himself, discomfited.  Evelyn wondered
whether the man was actually thinking he’d offended her by mentioning he needed
a bath.  Or mayhap, dear God, he was afraid she would ask to join him.

Stapleton continued.  “I am not presentable enough to
be in the presence of a lady and I believe dinner awaits me when I return to
Nodgley.”

“Jasmine Manor.”

“Pardon me?”

“It is known as Jasmine Manor.  I am told the late
duchess was particularly fond of jasmine.  The grounds are covered with it in
spring, so that is how her duke referred to it in her presence.  The proper
name is Nodgley, but Jasmine Manor suits it much better, do you not agree?” 
She winced inwardly.  Had she really become so bird-witted that she would
natter on about nonsense?  That was a trait she could not abide in others. 
Yet, the more she tried to impress the handsome inspector, the more insipid she
became. 

He must have been thinking along similar lines
because he simply stared at her, until he finally said, “As you say, my lady. 
Perhaps I should call upon you at nine of the clock?  Or, would it be more
convenient at a later hour?”

“Nine of the clock would be quite convenient, thank
you.  Shall we meet at the sheep pen?  I am sure there are any number of ewes
who would like to make your acquaintance.”  Again, the panicked look.  “That
was a jest, Inspector.”  And not a very clever one.  “I believe nine of the
clock over a cup of coffee might be best.”

“Yes, my lady,” he said, all but jumping on his
horse to be away from her.  “I shall see you then.”

“Yes,” said Evelyn softly, as she watched his fine
form ride away from her.  “I shall be looking forward to it.”

*                    *                    *

He was a bloody imbecile.  A bloody, bloody
imbecile.  Joseph was so upset with himself that Rocinante sidled, earning a
soothing pat from his master. 
How had he not known she was Lady Evelyn?
 
The accent alone should have given her away, though he could not think of any
other
ton
lady who would have gone to the aid of a ewe, other than the
Kellington females. 

For one moment, he thought he’d found a woman he
could while away his time with in the country.  She was beautiful, well-read
and not afraid of physical labor.  She’d made him laugh and the fact that she
had the laugh of an angel hadn’t gone unnoticed.  But not only had he made erroneous
presumptions about who she was, he’d insulted her class.

For a Bow Street Inspector, he’d proven himself
remarkably dense.

He arrived back at Jasmine Manor – it truly was a
better name than Nodgley – and a bath was sent up in short order.  He wasn’t
quite sure where he should have his supper.  Eating in the servants’ quarters
was where he’d feel most comfortable, though he had a feeling the staff would
not be able to act themselves in his presence.  But he certainly did not want
to eat alone in the dining room.  So, in the end, he asked that a plate be sent
to the sitting room in his luxurious suite.

Later, as he enjoyed a glass of brandy, he looked
out at the moonlit landscape.  The lack of noise was a welcome change from the
bustle of London, but eerie nonetheless.  He wondered what it was that had
prompted Lady Evelyn to enlist Lynwood’s help.  Even on such short
acquaintance, he could see how independent she was.  It would take quite a bit
for her to solicit the duke’s assistance.

He might not be able to make up for his lapse in
manners.  But he would do whatever he could to solve her problem, then he would
depart for Lynwood Manor to report back to the duke.  It was what he’d promised
to do.

Why, then, did he wish to linger?  With that
troubling thought, he drank the rest of the brandy and readied himself for bed.

CHAPTER THREE

The next morning, Joseph arrived at Lady Evelyn’s home
at nine of the clock, having been ready to depart for his journey a good half
hour earlier than necessary.  He hesitated briefly, wondering whether he should
present himself at the tradesman’s entrance.  In London, he always used the
main entrance as a matter of principle.  It was his way of showing members of the
ton
that while they were his social betters, they were not above the
law.  But in this instance, he had a feeling Lady Evelyn would simply laugh if
he arrived anywhere but at the front door.

The decision was taken from him because he’d no
sooner dismounted and handed Rocinante’s reins to a groom, than the door opened
and the butler showed him to the sitting room.

Lady Evelyn was dressed in a purple morning gown
that highlighted her red hair and green eyes.  It was not the elaborate design
often found in a London drawing room, but, rather, a simple yet elegant gown
that highlighted her curves.  Because of the old greatcoat she’d worn the day
before, he’d been unable to discern her shape.  He’d spent much of the previous
night letting his imagination run wild with how she might appear.  Today, it
was apparent his imagination hadn’t done her justice.  Her breasts were not
overly large, but would nicely fill his hands.  Her slim waist gradually gave
way to shapely hips and her legs stretched onward for a pleasing distance.  She
was tall – the top of her head reached almost to his nose – and she smelled of
jasmine.

He shook himself out of his stupor and made his
bow.  “Lady Evelyn, thank you for seeing me this morning.”

Her eyes twinkled.  “Since I am the one seeking
assistance, I should be thanking you.”

“I am only acting on the Duke of Lynwood’s behalf.”

“But it is you who is here.  Would you like some
coffee?”

“Thank you.”

The butler served the coffee, then after a nod from
his mistress, took his leave.  Out of habit, Stapleton subtly surveyed his
surroundings.  In London, he could often make an accurate assessment of someone’s
finances simply by noting the condition of the curtains.  This room had a homey
feel, almost cozy, despite its considerable size.  It was devoid of the obvious
signs of wealth found in the homes of those who liked to show off their worth. 
That didn’t mean Lady Evelyn didn’t have money, of course.  Perhaps she just
had more taste than most of the peers he’d investigated in London.   She had
what appeared to be a rare edition of the works of Shakespeare that could fetch
a good price if sold, which meant the lady’s problem likely wasn’t blackmail. 
But, if her problem wasn’t money, what was it?

Before he was forced to ask, she cleared her throat
and turned her lovely eyes to him.  “I am rather embarrassed to tell you my
problem, Inspector.  But I suppose I must.”

“Pray suffer no discomfort on my account, my lady. 
I assure you that I have seen much of the world in my work at Bow Street.  I hardly
think you can shock me.”

She smiled.  “I need your assistance in finding a
husband.”

His surprise was evident.  “Perhaps I spoke hastily
a moment ago.  No one has ever asked me to do that before.  May I ask why this
is a problem?  I would think there would be any number of candidates for you to
choose from.”  He hadn’t quite meant to say that last bit aloud.  But, really,
the idea that this goddess should have difficulties finding a husband was
preposterous.

“Thank you for the compliment, sir, but perhaps I
should be more specific.  I need to find a husband before year’s end and, while
I suppose that might be possible since I am in possession of a reasonable
fortune, I was hoping to find a husband I would like to marry, not just one it
is possible to wrangle to the altar.”

“Like the sheep,” he could not resist saying.

She could not prevent her laugh.  “I believe I had
my fill of wrestling obstinate creatures yesterday.  I should not like to
repeat the process with a husband for the next fifty years.”

“Why must you marry by the end of the year?”

“My father passed away shortly after my eighteenth
birthday.  His will left me the estate and more than enough money to live on. 
However, if I do not marry by my birthday next June, the land will revert to
the current Earl of Larsen, as will the fortune, except for a yearly stipend. 
It was my father’s way of looking after me, though I dearly wish he would have
left well enough alone.”

“So you must marry by June.”

“That was the original provision.  But a codicil has
been found that changed the date to the thirty-first of December.”

“Why would your father do that?”

“I do not think he did.  I believe my cousin the
earl forged the codicil, though I have no proof.”

“Why would your cousin do that?”

“There is a mining company that wishes to buy the
estate.  It is not entailed, so the earl would be free to sell if he had
control of it.  The company is not willing to wait beyond the new year.  They
will simply go elsewhere.  I believe my cousin changed the date so he has a
chance to inherit the estate, then sell it.”

“But that could occur only if you do not marry by
the end of the year.”

“If the codicil is valid, he will inherit.”  At
Joseph’s raised brow of disbelief, she continued.  “Inspector, it is not as
though I have spent the past seven years since my come-out avoiding matrimony. 
I have been open to the idea of marriage.  I very much want children of my
own.  But I have been unable to find a husband.  Do you really think I can find
a suitable husband in the next few weeks?”

He knew she could find hundreds of men to marry
her.  But good men of the
ton
did seem to be in short supply.

She continued.  “It is not just my well-being that
is at stake here.  Selling to the mine would displace all of my tenants.  The
duke and I are the major landholders in the area.  If we refuse to sell, the
mining concern has said it will abandon its efforts in the county.  But if my
cousin sells, I believe many of the smaller estates will follow suit.  The
entire village could be lost.  This issue is larger than one woman.  Indeed, I
am assured an income that keeps a roof over my head and food on my table.  Even
if the roof is much smaller than the one I am used to and the cooking my own. 
But these people.  Just where will they go?”

Bollocks.  Did the beautiful earl’s daughter have to
be so concerned about the villagers?  It was going to be difficult to keep a
professional distance when she was quite so appealing.  “Has your solicitor
examined the codicil?”

“He did.  Mr. Mayhew was my father’s solicitor for
many years.  He believes the signature looks genuine, but he admits that he’d
never seen the codicil until it was rather conveniently found in my cousin’s
attic, which, of course, used to be my father’s home.”

“But would it not be odd for your father to execute
such an important document without Mr. Mayhew’s help?”

“Very much so.  But the codicil was dated a few
weeks before my father’s death, a time when Mr. Mayhew was in Scotland on a
family matter.  It would have made sense for Papa to use another solicitor.”

“But would it have made sense for your father to
move up the date by only six months?  I can see, perhaps, his changing his mind
and wanting you to be married by the age of one and twenty.  But why move the
date only six months?”

“My thoughts, exactly.  That is why I believe my
cousin is behind this.”

“I know an expert on fraud in London who could study
the document to see if it is a forgery.  I cannot promise success, but I
believe it is worth a try.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I shall set off for London straightaway.”

“Actually, there is something else I would ask your
help with, though it is hard for me to seek assistance.”

“But sometimes a person must.”

“Do you, Inspector?”  She looked at him shrewdly,
her green eyes studying him.  “Do you ask for help?  Or do you prefer to rely
on yourself?”

The question was unexpected and personal.  Joseph had
learned early on that he could depend on very few people.  And life as a Bow
Street Inspector had hardly given him more faith in the inherent trustworthiness
of people.  It was only in the past few months through his friendship with the
Kellingtons and Riverton that he was learning to trust others.  Though Lady
Evelyn’s life experience could not have been more different than his, it
appeared she shared his independent nature. 

He smiled slightly.  “Thankfully, we are not
speaking of me.”  Her eyes laughed at his obvious evasion.  “How else may I be
of assistance?”

“Knowing that I was to marry by June, I have
considered a few potential husbands, though  country life does not offer a
great deal of variety in potential spouses.”

“Especially of your station.”

Once again, her direct gaze settled upon him.  “But
that is the advantage of having little use for life in London.  I do not feel
compelled to marry someone of my ‘station,’ as you put it.  My father raised me
to respect all others, regardless of title or position in life.  If I found
myself in love, I would care little for status.”

“An admirable sentiment but, from what I know of the
ton
, you would be cut most cruelly if you married beneath you.”

“That might be a problem if I cared about what those
in London thought of me.  I do not.”

“But what of your children?  Would you deprive them
of a life in the peerage and the incumbent advantages?”

“If I am blessed with children, I would ensure they
had everything they needed.  And they would be loved.  It would be a greater
disservice to raise them with a peer I did not love, rather than someone of a
lesser station with whom I was happy.”

Stapleton had no answer to that.  He had thought
little could surprise him.  But this woman was doing an admirable job of it.  “Do
you have any candidates in mind?”

“Three local men have emerged as suitors.”

“Do any of them appeal to you?” 

“I am still in the process of thinking of them as
potential husbands.   I was hoping you could meet them and give me your opinion
as to their character.  I would imagine your profession has made you a rather
good judge of it.  And then I would like to accompany you to London.  If I do
have to marry before year’s end, perhaps I could better my matrimonial chances
at a
ton
ball.  Though I dread the very prospect.”

Stapleton thought of the men she would meet there. 
The rakes.  The ones who lost fortunes at the gaming tables.  Those who spent
their time in opium dens and brothels.  He would wish them all to the devil
before they could come within a mile of Lady Evelyn.  Of course, he had to
admit that Arthur and Hal Kellington had fit that very description until they’d
met their respective wives and changed their ways.  It was possible there were
other men who could also reform.

But not bloody likely.

The risk was great and this trusting woman needed
help.  “Perhaps Lady Riverton could be of assistance.”

“Elizabeth?  I do not have much of an acquaintance
with her, though I always enjoyed seeing her when she and her brothers visited
Jasmine Manor.  How could she help?”

“She is an inveterate matchmaker.  If you do have to
marry quickly, she might know of someone suitable.”  And he could trust her to
find someone worthy of Lady Evelyn.  If such a man existed.

“I feel better already,” said Lady Evelyn with a
dazzling smile. 

Joseph became slightly light-headed at the sight of
it.  He cleared his throat.  “I shall send a dispatch to my expert in London,
if you would also write a note to Mr. Mayhew, informing him of our plans.  That
will give them more time to examine the codicil before we arrive in London.”

“Thank you.”

“It is my pleasure.  When shall I meet your
suitors?’

“Mr. Kensington, the son of the local squire, is to
call on me at one of the clock to go on a ride.  I would appreciate it if you
would accompany us.”

“And I am sure he would like no such thing.  I
accept.”