The Story of a Baron (The Sisters of the Aristocracy) (21 page)

Chapter 39

Gray Skies, Rain and Tea

With the gray skies and pouring rain, Evangeline feared Lord Sommers would forego their morning read, but just a few minutes after the appointed hour for their sixth day of reading
The Story of a Baron
, the baron appeared in the Rosemount House vestibule. His cape coat was drenched, as was his beaver, but his smile upon his arrival at the threshold of the library had Evangeline’s heart skipping a beat.

“You came!” she said with a brilliant smile, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice. “You might have caught your death in this downpour,” she added, a bit of worry showing with her furrowed eyebrows.

Jeffrey returned the smile, heartened to hear her concern for his welfare. He was also happy to see Evangeline dressed in a bright apple green gown, her smile chasing away the gloom. “Of course, my lady,” he replied as he took a bow and hurried to kiss the back of her hand.

“Would you like tea? Or something stronger, perhaps?” she offered, trying to ignore the shiver that passed through her body as the baron kissed her hand.

“Tea, please, as I find myself a bit chilled. I cannot recall having two springs in a row where it’s been this cold,” he commented as they moved to the leather couch. He was surprised to find the tea service already on the low table. “Did you have a caller this morning?” he wondered, glad they were meeting in the library instead of the parlor.

Evangeline shook her head. “No, but I wanted to be sure the tea was ready to serve if you did come, seeing as how cold and wet it is out there,” she remarked. She took her usual seat in the couch and leaned over to pour tea. “And it’s warmer here in the library.”

Jeffrey joined her on the couch then, touched that she thought to have a warm drink ready for him. “Thank you,” he said as he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

Stilling herself, Evangeline finished pouring a cup of tea for herself and finally gave him a nod. Unable to hide her blush, she allowed a grin. “You’re welcome. Should we begin?”

Tempted to kiss her again, Jeffrey realized he could not – the damned butler was watching from the library door. “Yes, let’s,” he agreed.

Chapter 40

Chapter Twelve: The Business of Being a Baron

With a good deal of trepidation, Matthew stood before the largest piece of furniture in the library. The mahogany behemoth had been a gift to his father from his mother. She had arranged for its construction with the words, “It must have a large surface and enough drawers to hold the business of being a baron.”

Well, the furniture maker had not disappointed. With ten drawers and a smooth surface nearly the size of the library door, the desk had been the sixth Baron Ballantine’s pride and not-so-joy. The lack of joy, of course, was due to the lack of funds associated with the barony. Now that he had inherited the desk – and everything else in Ballantine Place – Matthew understood his father’s take on the mahogany monstrosity.

Despite the library being his favorite room in the entire house, this one piece of furniture nearly ruined it for him. And all because several invoices had multiplied into too many, so many, in fact, that there was little space left on the desktop. Now that he had his winnings from the card game at the ball, Matthew decided it was time to see to some payments.

He ran his fingers through his hair before taking the large chair on the other side of the desk. If he could have afforded the expense upon inheriting the barony, he would have hired a secretary to do the monthly bills. Seeing to the financial requirements was his least favorite responsibility of being a baron, for it reminded him of how very close he was to insolvency. The sooner he married and secured a dowry, the sooner the barony would be safe.

Marry her within the month and I’ll double the dowry.

He would speak with Geraldine on the morrow, he decided.

Chapter 41

A Death in the Ton

“Is it like this for the Sommers’ barony?” Evangeline suddenly asked, her brows furrowing with concern. “I know last year was particularly difficult for the entire country,” she added as she turned to regard the baron, referring to the Year Without a Summer. The incessant rain and cold temperatures meant little in the way of crops, near famine for part of the country and a huge loss in livestock.

Jeffrey stilled himself, not sure how to respond. His barony was in a far better financial situation than the one he had described in the book, but if the coming summer was as bad as last year, the Sommers barony would be on the brink of insolvency. “It was,” he agreed. “For those who depended on agriculture for their livelihood,” he added. “However, I have the benefit of owning a coal mine and a farm with a herd of sheep that survived the year,” he explained. “And a contract for the wool, of course,” not considering Evangeline might be ignorant of the textile business in England.

Evangeline nodded her understanding. “I’ve no idea what my brother’s investments involve,” she said, her attention suddenly on the library’s windows. “I suppose I should ask, seeing as how he’ll probably arrange another expedition just as soon as he’s home.”

Jeffrey suppressed the urge to react. “Do you think he’ll arrive today?” he wondered, trying his best to keep his tone conversational.

“Today, perhaps tomorrow,” she answered with a shrug.

Jeffrey felt a bit of panic set in. “Milady,” he started to say.

“You really should called me ‘Evangeline’,” the mistress of the house replied, one of her hands suddenly brushing his coat sleeve. “I insist.”

Jeffrey swallowed. “Then you should call me ‘Jeffrey’,” he countered, his breaths still a bit short. “You’re saying he could walk in on us at any moment,” he added nervously.

Evangeline shook her head but then reconsidered. Harry Tennison really could arrive at any moment. “I suppose,” she replied simply.”

“Milady?” a baritone voice sounded from the doorway.

Evangeline turned to find the butler, Jones, standing on the threshold.

“Yes, Jones?” she responded, standing so that she could turn to regard the butler. Jeffrey stood as well, curious as to the reason for the butler’s interruption. He was quite sure the man had been standing just outside the door the entire time Jeffrey had been in the library.

“A caddy just delivered word that Lord Norwick has perished.”

Evangeline stared at Jones for several seconds, his words penetrating her brain but not quite making sense.

Seeing her distress and feeling a bit on his own behalf, Jeffrey reached for one of her hands. “Did the caddy say what happened to Lord Norwick?” he asked of the butler, stunned at the news that David Fitzwilliam, Earl of Norwick, had died. The man was in his mid-forties, true, but dead? “How ... how did he die?” he asked, knowing Evangeline wouldn’t put voice to her own curiosity.

The butler afforded him the courtesy of a nod. “The caddy said he witnessed the accident in Oxford Street. Apparently, Lord Norwick was thrown from his horse and broke his neck when he hit the pavement below,” Jones explained, suddenly uncomfortable when Lady Evangeline clamped a hand over her mouth, her shock quite evident in her widened eyes.

Jeffrey wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest. “He was an expert horseman,” he argued with a shake of his head, addressing his comment to the butler.

Evangeline sucked in an unsteady breath. “Lady Norwick,” Evangeline whispered in despair. “She’ll be heartbroken.” Tears filled her eyes. “She loved Lord Norwick.”
And she’s with child.

Jeffrey turned his attention to Evangeline, stunned at the sight of her tears. He pulled a handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket. “Evangeline,” he whispered, offering the square of fabric.

Instead of taking the proffered handkerchief, Evangeline shook her head before burying it in the small of his shoulder. The scent of honeysuckle wafted past Jeffrey’s nostrils, reminding him of the last time he had held her so intimately in the parlor. She was acquainted with the earl’s wife, he remembered from their discussion the day before.

Lady Norwick was now a widow.

Christ!
Norwick was one of the few in the
ton
who actually loved his wife, who had given up his ownership of a celebrated brothel, given up who knew how many mistresses, and given up any hint of a scandalous life in order to marry Lady Clarinda Brotherly, an earl’s daughter.

The woman would be inconsolable.

Since she hadn’t yet given birth to an heir, he could only hope she was with child. Although, if she was not, Norwick did have a twin brother, Daniel Fitzwilliam, who could step in and assume the earldom.

Jones cleared his throat, obviously distressed at seeing the baron holding the earl’s sister as if they were betrothed. Jeffrey let go his hold, although Evangeline remained with her head against his shoulder. “Lilies,” she said suddenly. “Jones, please see to a delivery of lilies to Norwick House,” she ordered suddenly. She raised her head to regard the baron. “I need to pay a call on Lady Clarinda tomorrow morning,” she said. “Perhaps we can meet to read the day after?” she questioned, her voice suddenly quiet.

Given the news they’d just been given, Jeffrey was surprised at Evangeline’s offer. “I look forward to it,” he said quietly, not wanting the butler to overhear him.

“As do I,” Evangeline admitted in a whisper. Her entire day was arranged around when she could sit with the baron and read the book. What would she do with herself when they finished it? A sense of loss settled over her as she left her head resting against his shoulder.

Jeffrey felt a sense of excitement at her words. His entire schedule was built around when he and Lady Evangeline could meet to read the damned book. But there were only a few chapters left – what would he do when they were finished? He couldn’t imagine a day without Evangeline in it.

Christ!
If the damned butler hadn’t been standing there staring at them, Jeffrey thought he would have kissed her right then and there, kissed her and perhaps even proposed marriage – on the condition that her brother would allow him to, of course.

In the meantime, he realized he really should take his leave of Rosemount House before the butler had him bodily removed – or worse. “I will call upon you the day after tomorrow,” he said, raising his voice so Jones could hear. He lifted one of her hands to his lips and kissed the back of it. “Please, give Lady Norwick my condolences and your brother my greetings.”

Evangeline looked crestfallen as she watched the baron bow and leave the library. Having lost her ability to stand on her own, she settled back onto the leather couch, dropped her head into her hands, and wept.

Chapter 42

The Earl of Everly Returns

Harry Tennison, Earl of Everly, stepped down from the hackney and glanced up and down Park Lane before he regarded Rosemount House. Despite being gone for nearly six months, he felt a bit of satisfaction as he took in the clean, white exterior. The glass in the neat row of windows across the front gleamed as if it had been cleaned only that morning. The two columns holding up the portico above the front door were straight and appeared free of soot. The front door, a deep garnet, sported a polished lion’s head knocker.

The gardener had obviously been busy. Flower pots on either side of the front door steps displayed a riot of colors, and the front lawn was just beginning to display the green shades of spring.

Taking a deep breath, which didn’t smell as bad as he might have expected, Harry climbed the steps of Rosemount House. The front door opened before he reached it. Jones stood to one side, giving him a short bow as he stepped aside. “Welcome home, milord,” the butler said as he took the earl’s top hat and cane.

“Good to be home, Jones,” Harry replied as he gave the vestibule a cursory glance. His sister had obviously been spending her time embroidering, he realized as he stopped to study the pair of stitcheries of plants. Her intricate stitches had captured every detail of the Pteridophyta and Metroxylon sagu, and Harry had to allow a grin. “I see Evangeline has been keeping busy,” he murmured as he peered through his spectacles. Who knew she had an interest in ferns and palms?

Having set his master’s hat on the shelf and seen to his cane, the butler sobered. “She has, milord, although ...” He paused, not quite sure how to inform the scientist that his sister had also been consorting with a baron.

Harry turned his attention from the embroideries to a nearby mirror. Shocked at how tanned his face had become during his weeks spent on the Indian Ocean, he blinked. Probably just as well, he thought, given he intended to visit an island off the coast of Spain on his next expedition. He was about to turn his attention back to the butler when two footmen entered with one of his trunks. “That can be taken to my study,” he instructed, “And the other to my bedchamber.” The earl turned to regard Jones. “Although ... what?” he queried.

Jones regarded the earl with a hint of surprise. There were times the man didn’t seem to be aware of his surroundings or acted as if he hadn’t heard a word spoken to him, but now was obviously not one of those times. “She has recently bought a book and has been reading it ...”

“Harry!” Evangeline called out from the top of the stairs. His sister grabbed a handful of her skirts and rushed down the stairs, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she nearly knocked him off his feet.

“Eva,” he replied with a grin, ignoring Jones to return his sister’s hug. “I see you’ve taken good care of things in my absence,” he commented, noting his sister seemed another inch taller than when he had last seen her.

“It’s kind of you to say so, although I think you have your manager to thank for the general condition of the house,” she responded as she turned and walked with him toward the library. She knew he would want to check on his fish before seeing to anything else. “A colorman was just here last week matching paint for the front door, and two days later, it was painted.”

Harry stepped aside to allow his sister to enter the library before him. “Any trouble while I was away?” he asked as he followed her in. He rushed over to the large glass tank that held his prized collection of tropical fish.

“Lord Norwick died.”

The earl peered through the glass, one finger touching it as he appeared to count the number of fish as they swam about. He straightened suddenly and turned to regard his sister. “Here?” he asked, his brows furrowed in concern.

Evangeline blinked. She shook her head, wondering why her brother would think the earl had been at Rosemount House. Everyone in the
ton
knew David Fitzwilliam despised her brother’s fish. “No. Yesterday, in Oxford Street. A caddy said he’d been thrown from his horse.”

Harry frowned. “But ... Lord Norwick is an expert horseman,” he replied as he shook his head, his eyes glazing over. “Poor Clare,” he whispered as he considered the widowed countess. The woman was still so young, and she had not yet borne a child. “Have you arranged for flowers to be sent?” he wondered, thinking that David’s brother, Daniel, was probably already making plans to return to London from the Norwick estate home in Sussex.

“Lilies, of course,” Evangeline answered with a nod. “I thought to pay a call on Lady Clarinda tomorrow. To pay my respects.”

The earl nodded, his manner still most sober. “He always said my fish would be the death of him,” he murmured, glancing back at the tank. “I must admit, I’m quite relieved to see they’ve all seemed to survive my absence.”

Evangeline moved to stand next to the tank. “Mosby does an excellent job caring for them,” she said, referring to the footman who saw to the daily fish feeding and occasional tank cleaning. “He captures rain water and adds a bit of salt to it before pouring it into the tank,” she explained, watching intently as one of the angel fish swam by. “But I know he’s concerned at the dwindling supply of food. I do hope you’ve brought some back with you.”

Harry nodded. “Food as well as more fish,” he answered, his mood still grim. “Their crate should have arrived here yesterday.”

Her eyes wide, Evangeline seemed stunned by the comment. “Oh, dear. I do hope it was brought indoors,” she commented, thinking the evening would have been too chilly to leave the crate of fish out of doors.

Finally allowing a smile, Harry shook his head. “The cold would not have been a problem,” he countered. “As long as it didn’t freeze,” he amended.

“No. Not for over a month,” Evangeline replied. “Do you suppose we’ll have a summer this year?” she wondered, thinking it was still far too chilly given it was already March.

Her brother nodded. “It will most certainly be warmer than last year. Amazing what volcanoes can do to our weather,” he said absently, referring to a series of eruptions that had wreaked havoc on the climate of the North American continent as well as Northern Europe the year before. “All that rain helped clear the air. Sunlight can get through now.”

He regarded his sister for a moment, realizing he was surprised she was even at home in the middle of the day. Perhaps she didn’t pay calls everyday, or she was expecting someone to visit her this day. “I trust you’ve been behaving,” he commented with a hint of amusement.

Stunned, and having missed the glint of humor in his eyes, Evangeline’s face reddened suddenly. “What have you heard?” she wondered, her eyes wide.

Surprised at his sister’s reaction to his simple tease, Harry shrugged. “I’ve been away for six months. And I just returned to these shores yesterday,” he replied. “I haven’t heard a thing.” A look of suspicion crossed his face, though. “Is there something you need to tell me, Eva?” he asked as his brows furrowed.

Realizing she had overreacted, Evangeline shook her head. “No, there’s nothing,” she replied with a shake of her head.

Harry nodded, wondering if perhaps there really was something his sister wasn’t telling him. If there was, he would surely hear about it at White’s. After a bath and a change of clothes, he would be paying a visit to the venerable men’s club. One evening there, and he would be caught up on all the
on-dit
of London.