From where he sat at the table laden with more food than three people could ever eat, Luke allowed his gaze to wander from Percy to Hazel and back again. The two barely looked up from their plates, and most certainly never met his gaze. Nor had they spoken a single word to him.
They hadn’t been in the sitting room prior to dinner, either, which had been smart on Percy’s part. Luke had been angry upon leaving Aislinn, and he had several choice words for the way his brother was treating her. He was still mad, but his temper had cooled to a more controllable temperature. She was an asset, and he was very glad that she was on his side. He wouldn’t let the fact that they’d denied her clothing upon her dismissal go unchecked.
Among other things.
As the meal ended, he politely requested his brother’s presence in the study. He hadn’t included his sister-in-law in the invitation, but wouldn’t object to her hearing what he had to say. He’d stopped in the kitchen earlier, before going to the sitting room, and had requested that the biscuits the girls hadn’t had in ages be prepared. The downright meanness that had been portrayed was ridiculous, and not something he was willing to ignore. Nor would he tolerate it continuing.
Without a word, which was clearly a snub, but didn’t faze Luke in the least, Hazel parted ways with him and Percy in the hallway. Upon entering the study, Percy closed the door behind them.
Luke proceeded to the credenza and poured two glasses of brandy, then carried one to Percy.
While his brother took a seat in the Duke’s chair, Luke sat in the one opposite and took a sip of his drink. He had plenty to say, but after the silent dinner, figured he’d let his brother be the first to speak. Whether that took a minute, or an hour, he truly didn’t care. The game he and Hazel were playing was intended to provoke him. They’d already done that.
‘This is all for naught,’ Percy finally said.
Since it had taken his brother so long to find his tongue, Luke had finished his drink and twisted the empty glass on the table beside his chair. ‘What is it you feel is for naught?’
‘Everything. I’ve already submitted my petition to the Lord Chancellor of the Court of Chancery.’
Luke nodded. ‘I know you have.’
‘I expect their decision to arrive any day now, so you’re too late.’
‘No, dear brother, I’m not.’ Luke leaned back in his chair and levelled an uncompromising stare. ‘The messenger you sent to London shortly after my arrival this morning will not be returning with a decision in your favour. Rowland’s solicitor heard of your petition and, knowing my whereabouts, as you all did, he submitted an affidavit that I was being informed of Rowland’s death, since no one in my family had chosen to do that. He also submitted my petition to accept the guardianship granted to me in Rowland’s will.’
The grin on Percy’s face was unexpected, but not the narrowing of his eyes, which turned them into little more than slits. ‘You’ve been gone a long time, little brother. I, on the other hand, have been here, maintaining friendships. I know what was submitted, and when it was submitted, and can confidently assure you that it will make no difference.’
‘I beg to differ,’ Luke said, even though his brother was right in that he’d been here the entire time, maintaining friendships with clearly unsavoury characters, somehow connected to the courts. ‘I was named in Rowland’s will, and his choice of guardian holds precedence.’
Percy stood and walked to the credenza to refill his glass. After replacing the top of the decanter, he took a drink, before turning about. ‘Not when there is proof that the appointed guardian is only interested in that role in order to gain access to the wards’ property and money.’
Someone was seeking to gain assets, but it wasn’t him. ‘Lies are not proof.’
With one of his signature smug smirks in place, Percy elongated the time it took him to take a drink of his brandy. ‘I always knew your letters were full of fabrication, but they’re going to prove rather useful now.’ Percy had a distinct hint of amusement in his eyes as he set his glass down.
Luke’s spine stiffened. He wasn’t amused whatsoever. ‘You’ve taken up forgery, have you? We both know I never wrote to you.’
‘Of course, you didn’t.’ Percy returned to his chair, sat and folded his hands on his stomach. ‘You wrote to Rowland. Continuously. Sharing all your adventures. Tell me, do you believe the courts will grant guardianship, will or no will, to a man who spent the last eight years gambling on riverboats and in saloons? Spent months searching for gold? Befriended train robbers, swam in rivers with dance hall gals? Oh, and let’s not forget, rustled cattle and then bought the ranch from the widow whose husband died fending off rustlers!’
‘Congratulations, you have misconstrued every event I wrote about.’ Luke was fighting to control his breathing, and anger. Percy had twisted everything. However, the letters he’d written to Rowland were long, and Percy clearly had them in his possession. If he chose to only turn over small snippets, and not the entire letters, readers could get the wrong impression. ‘Even with your misinterpretations, none of that is proof that I’m looking to gain access to anything.’
Percy shrugged. ‘What other reason could there be? You haven’t lived here for eight years, have no permanent residence in which to raise the girls. Or did you plan to take them to America? To a home where the previous owner left because it was too dangerous? I don’t believe the courts would favour that. Their father was a duke. An English duke. This is where the girls need to live. In a country where they’ll receive all the benefits of being a duke’s daughter, not in some godforsaken country not fit for wild animals.’
Luke’s back teeth clenched together so tightly his jaw stung. Unfortunately, his brother’s assumption of the court’s possible favour was too accurate. This fight had just started and he had to pace himself. He had an ace in the hole, and was going to keep it there. He had some cleaning up to do before it came time to show his full hand.
‘Reason?’ he asked. ‘Because I care what happens to my nieces. And you’re wrong, I do have a permanent residence. Right here.’ He stood. ‘You didn’t inherit this house with the duchy. It was split three ways when our father died, and remains that way. Fern and Ivy have a third, I have a third and you have a third.’
Percy lifted his chin, as if unaffected. But the way he wrung his hands together said differently.
‘I was wrong earlier, when I said our parents would be disappointed to see how you’re behaving. They would have been ashamed. Completely ashamed of you. You were always selfish, but the way you’ve treated Rowland’s daughters and Miss Blaydon goes beyond that. It’s malicious, and I don’t know how you can live with yourself.’ Without waiting for a response, Luke rose and left the room knowing one thing. He had to get to London.
Normally, with a need so urgent, he’d have saddled up and ridden all night. He’d done that before, but he couldn’t do so right now. Not without telling Aislinn.
Scanning each and every shadowed corner, for he wouldn’t put it past Percy to have staff assigned to watch his every move, Luke made his way straight to the nursery.
The room was silent. There wasn’t even the tick of a clock hand. Heavy curtains covered whatever moonlight might have assisted him in making his way through the sitting area to the smaller of the two bedrooms.
Moonlight filtered into that room due to the curtains being left open, and he imagined that had been done on purpose, so the rising sun would wake her.
As he paused in the doorway, he felt a softening inside him. With the day she’d had, she’d probably fallen asleep the minute her head had hit the pillow. He could wait until morning to tell her, probably should, but wanted to be on his way to London before sunup.
She was sleeping on her side, with her hands tucked up beneath the pillow, and her long, dark hair, plaited in a single braid, was curled around her neck, disappearing beneath the covers. His breath momentarily caught in his throat at the thought that she was as lovely asleep as she was awake.
A pit formed deep in his stomach. He’d just called Percy selfish, yet wasn’t he also being selfish by pulling her so deep into this mess? By playing on the love she had for Fern and Ivy?
He knew he was, and that flustered him. He’d always fought his own battles, but he needed her for this one. He knew nothing about taking care of children. Granted, he could hire another governess, but she had history with Fern and Ivy, and the girls loved her as much as she loved them. He could see why.
She was very likeable. He’d discovered that within minutes this morning. Around the same time he’d figured out that she could be a great help to him. Would he have been so quick to come to that conclusion if she’d been someone else? Someone older, not as attractive?
Of course, he would have. He was doing all of this for the girls, not for himself. Anything he did for himself was back in Montana, not here. This was all just a damn mess, that’s what it was.
He’d been truthful when he told her that he didn’t know what the plan was, still didn’t, but would make sure that she was compensated for all her help and for all she’d been through with Percy.
Luke moved closer to the side of the bed and quietly cleared his throat, hoping that would wake her.
She didn’t so much as twitch.
‘Aislinn,’ he said quietly.
Still no movement.
‘Aislinn,’ he repeated, this time while softly touching her shoulder.
She jolted upright so fast he stepped backwards, half expecting her to leap off the bed.
‘What? The girls?’ she asked, throwing the blankets off her legs.
‘The girls are fine,’ he said, holding both hands upright, as if she was pointing a gun at him. ‘It’s just me, Luke.’ He then lowered his hands and stepped forward, pulling the blankets back over her lower legs, which were bare because her gown was bunched up around her thighs. The sight of her silky, bare skin was too enjoyable. And something he shouldn’t be looking at. ‘I—I need to talk to you.’
She blinked quickly, as if getting rid of the haze of sleep. Her eyes widened as full recognition hit, and she quickly grabbed the blankets, pulling them upwards.
Nodding, her fingers curled tighter around the covers, as she tugged them all the way up over the nightdress that was buttoned to her chin.
She looked bewildered and utterly frightened. Rightfully so. She’d probably never had a man standing beside her bed before.
He wasn’t in the habit of being in a woman’s bedroom, and the reality of that sent a shiver up his spine. If he could enter her room this easily, anyone could. Which meant he couldn’t just leave them here. Not without him. Not without his protection.
She was still staring at him wide-eyed.
He attempted to pull his thoughts back in line. ‘I need to go to London,’ he said. ‘Cut them off at the pass.’
‘Cut who, where?’
He shook his head, not meaning to say his thoughts aloud. ‘Sorry. It appears that Percy has someone inside the court, trying to influence the decision on guardianship. I need to rectify that immediately.’
She sat up straighter. ‘How?’
‘I’m not sure, but I need to go to London to do it. I know that much.’
‘When?’
‘Right away.’ It rankled him clear to his core to know that Percy was using the letters he’d sent to Rowland against him, even though he knew his brother. Percy would use any tactics to get his way. He always had. ‘I’m not sure what information they have, but I’m convinced Percy is using everything that I mailed to Rowland over the years, using bits and pieces of the letters to make it sound like I’m interested in gaining access to the untitled assets Rowland willed to the girls.’
‘He destroyed everything that you sent.’ She shook her head. ‘He had staff remove it all from the shelves in the study.’
The items he’d sent over the years hadn’t been of great value, just things he’d thought Rowland would like to see. At the moment, he couldn’t remember all that he’d sent, nor what he’d said in his letters, but knew full well that Percy would use anything he could against him. ‘I’m sure he has the letters.’
‘He might,’ she said quietly. ‘I honestly don’t know where Rowland kept your letters, but I do know that he cherished them.’
The pain that struck was sharp enough to take his breath away. He’d cherished the letters Rowland had sent to him, too. As much as he hadn’t wanted to be here, he’d looked forward to hearing from Rowland about his life at Havenbrook. ‘It shouldn’t be this way,’ he said. ‘Rowland—’ He shook his head, unable to say more.
She released the blanket and softly touched his arm. ‘I know,’ she said.
He shouldn’t be able to feel the warmth of her fingers through the sleeves of his coat and shirt, but he did. The sensation spread up his arm. The sort of comforting warmth that he hadn’t felt in a long time. ‘I’m not saying it should have been Percy instead. I wouldn’t wish that on either of my brothers.’ He wouldn’t admit that to just anyone, but it was the honest truth.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘It just seems unfair.’
‘Yes, it does.’ He huffed out a breath. ‘Everything about this is wrong. Percy knows what Rowland wanted, but he can’t stomach the idea of me besting him in any way. Never could. Even though I was never competing with him. I knew my place. There wasn’t a competition.’
‘Yes, there was,’ she whispered.
‘No, there wasn’t. That’s why I wanted something different. something that fit me. I found that.’
‘In America?’
‘Yup. I have everything I need there. Everything I’ll ever need.’ He shook his head, questioning why he was doing telling her all of this. In her bedroom in the middle of the night. As his sense returned, he said, ‘Anyway, I can’t leave you and the girls here alone. I’ll need you to come to London with me.’
‘All right. When do we leave?’
Should he be surprised that she agreed so quickly? Or just be thankful? He went with the latter, because he’d already done enough overthinking. ‘First thing in the morning.’
‘We’ll be ready.’
Even though she’d had a terrible time falling back to sleep after Luke left her room, Aislinn kept her promise. By the time the sun was rising, she ushered the girls downstairs, fed, dressed, and toting items to keep them occupied during the long journey. Of course, there had been a ruckus concerning their leaving, but Luke had been there, and planted himself in front of the Duke. Today, he was dressed in his American clothes and looked more formidable than ever.
She had a hard time meeting his gaze, because even with all the uproar caused by their leaving, her mind kept going back to him in her bedroom last night. The impropriety would increase the already out of control friction between him and Percy, if his brother knew.
Someone in the household had alerted Percy and Hazel of their leaving, because both of them had arrived downstairs hastily dressed. The Duchess hadn’t even taken the time to have her hair pinned up.
The Duchess had tried to block Aislinn’s way to the door, but Luke had put an arm out, stopping Hazel from getting too close. Aislinn’s first instinct had been to bow her head and curtsey, but knowing she had to become more assertive, she’d kept her chin up, her knees stiff and her spine straight.
Hazel had turned beet red, and Aislinn probably should have considered what might have happened if Luke hadn’t been there. Instead, at his nod, she merely ushered the girls out the door, as Percy stepped in front of Hazel, so he and Luke were standing nose to nose. Actually, it was toe-to-toe, because the Duke’s nose only came up to Luke’s chin. He was taller and broader than his brother by a long way.
Yesterday, he’d been standing on the top step, rather than the porch, when the two brothers had faced each other. Heavens, that seemed like eons ago, but truly less than twenty-four hours had passed.
With her heart racing as fast as it had been last night, when she’d woken to see him standing at the side of her bed, she helped Fern and Ivy into the waiting carriage.
She’d seen Luke’s eyes a moment ago. They’d been as cold as ice, as sharp as shards of glass. The harshness in them made her shiver, and the severe set of his lips had been completely void of his usually permanent grin. She certainly didn’t want the girls exposed to whatever might be happening inside the house.
If the row ensuing between the brothers came to fisticuffs, she was sure of who would win, and just as sure that there would be repercussions.
There were sure to be consequences for how she’d disrespected the Duchess, too, so she was glad they were leaving. Though she knew that wouldn’t solve the issues. Percy and Hazel were sure to be even madder when they returned with Luke having secured guardianship of the girls. He was set on that happening, and from what she knew of him, he didn’t quit until he achieved whatever goal he’d set.
Not wanting the girls to be alarmed, Aislinn leaned across the open space to where they both sat, pulling the hems of their dresses down and settling the bag of toys between them. ‘There, now you’ll have plenty of room to read your books and—’
Startled by Luke’s voice telling the driver to leave, she leaned back in her seat and scooted over as he climbed in and shut the door.
‘You will be riding with us in here?’ she asked, before taking the time to think about it. If she’d thought about that possibility, she’d have seated herself between the girls.
Sitting down next to her, he winked at the girls. ‘I don’t plan on walking.’
Normally when they travelled to London, the old Duke had ridden his horse, and she and the girls had ridden in the carriage with the Duchess. On the rare occasion when the old Duke rode with the Duchess in the carriage, Aislinn had travelled in a second coach with the other servants. The girls had ridden with their parents, but she’d seen to her charges upon every stop.
‘Old Bones would never make this trip,’ he said.
Nodding, she tucked the material of her skirt behind her knees, giving him more room. Riding with him in a carriage had to be improper, even with the girls and the driver. Yet, there were no other options. Furthermore, it probably wasn’t as improper as him being in her bedroom in the middle of the night. She’d been mortified upon seeing him, wearing nothing but her nightgown, but that had all disappeared when she’d seen the pain on his face as he spoke of Rowland. Then, her heart had ached for him.
He patted her arm. ‘I’ve plenty of room.’ Then, addressing the girls, he asked, ‘Who wants to guess what I have?’
‘Me!’ Fern exclaimed.
‘Me, too!’ Ivy followed.
‘Well, then, I will give each of you a clue.’ He looked at Ivy first. ‘They are not invisible.’ Shifting to Fern, he said, ‘You haven’t had them in ages.’
‘Biscuits!’ Fern shouted.
‘With sweet icing!’ Ivy added.
He produced a basket, as if out of thin air. Aislinn certainly hadn’t seen it in the carriage when they’d climbed in, nor in his hand when he’d entered. Then again, she hadn’t been of a mind to be looking for a basket, either.
Upon pulling back the cloth covering the basket, revealing it was full of biscuits, he looked at her, one brow raised in silent question.
She nodded, for if she didn’t, there could have been a mutiny and she’d be walking, like she had been at this time yesterday. The idea of that, a mutiny, or maybe the delighted squeals coming from Fern and Ivy, made her smile.
Once the girls had each taken a biscuit, he held the basket out to her. It was such a treat for the girls, she should decline, but the basket was filled to the top, so she indulged and took one. She too had missed the desserts and sweets that used to be provided with each meal.
He took two from the basket, and bit into one. ‘Mmm... Mmm... I sure have missed these.’
‘Me, too,’ Fern said.
‘And me,’ came from Ivy.
‘Do they not have biscuits in America?’ Aislinn asked, in an attempt to keep her mind from focusing on how sitting next to him was making butterflies flutter in her stomach.
‘Yes and no.’
He held the basket out for the girls to each take another one, which they did, after her silent approval.
‘What we refer to as biscuits here, they call cookies.’ He took another one from the basket. ‘What they declare biscuits are like our crumpets, but lighter and fluffier. They are quite delicious.’
He held the basket in her direction.
She shook her head. ‘No, thank you.’
He set the basket down on the seat between them. The girls, very satisfied with the treat they’d received, turned their attention to their canvas bags filled with books and toys.
Looking at the twins with a gentle grin on his face, he asked, ‘Do you ever wonder what they think when they look at each other and see the exact thing that they see when looking in the mirror?’
‘No,’ she replied. ‘Because I see them so differently and believe they see the differences, too.’
He nodded. ‘They are different. I’m sure I’ll see more differences in time. I was in Colorado when I got Rowland’s letter announcing their birth. He said Leslie knew the differences between them right away, but that it had taken him a few days, because he’d still been getting over the shock of having two babies.’ He glanced at her. ‘I suppose you know that Fern was our mother’s name, and Ivy was Leslie’s mother’s name.’
‘I do,’ she said.
‘It’s sad that all four of them, our parents and Leslie’s, died before meeting them.’
‘It is,’ she replied. Then, because it had been on her mind since last night, she asked, ‘What from your letters do you think they could use to jeopardise your claim for guardianship?’
‘Did you read them?’ he asked.
‘No. I was present when the old Duke read them to the girls.’ Others had been present when they’d been read, too. If not in the room, they’d stood outside the doorway, listening, for all of the staff had loved his letters. He had a way with words and had written the letters in such a way that they sounded like stories from a book that kept her holding her breath until the very end.
‘Rowland,’ he said quietly. ‘When it’s just me and you, let’s forget all titles.’
He was doing so much to help the girls, and her, that she easily agreed, ‘All right.’
‘You might recall that my letters were long, and cheeky in nature,’ he said. ‘For instance, I remember one where I wrote “your youngest brother has become a cattle rustler”.’
She nodded, clearly recalling how that first line had held everyone’s attention, and it hadn’t been until later in the letter that they’d learned more details. ‘That was the same letter where you wrote about buying your ranch.’
‘Yes. But I didn’t rustle any cattle. I explained later in the letter how Raf and I had come upon cattle rustlers and steered clear, until a few miles later, when we came upon a woman burying her husband, who the rustlers had just killed. We helped her, then we went and got the cattle back for her and turned the rustlers in to the law. She had two children. Small children. A boy and a girl. We stayed on, helped her for a time, but she was set on moving back to Missouri, where she had family. I bought the ranch and cattle from her, at a fair price. More than what she was asking, and more than she would have got from anyone else, because I wanted it to be fair, and to make sure that she and the children had enough to start over. All of that was on another page. If someone doesn’t see the whole letter, they’ll think I confessed to being a cattle rustler. End of story.’
‘But that’s not the end of the story,’ she whispered, fully understanding how someone only reading the first page could think poorly of him.
‘Precisely why I need to get to London and find out who inside the courts Percy has on his side.’
‘What else is he saying?’
‘I don’t know, but I’m guessing that he’s turned around every event I wrote about, and to be honest, I don’t even remember everything I wrote in the past eight years.’
She wanted to say that she did, but that wouldn’t be true, because he’d been gone for four years before she’d been employed by the Duke and Duchess. What she did remember, did know, was that those letters should prove what a good man he was, not the opposite. His bravery had been apparent in his letters. At one time, she had assumed that some tales had been exaggerated, but no longer believed that. The same was true of his handsomeness. ‘How are you going to find out who is spreading the rumours?’
‘I’m going to start with Mr Watson, Rowland’s solicitor, and now mine. I trust him. I doubt that he knows what’s happening, but hopefully he can find out if there is an infiltrator in the courts.’
‘Will we be staying at the London home?’ That was what she’d assumed, but perhaps shouldn’t have, because Percy may have said they couldn’t stay there.
‘Yes. That was Rowland’s house, and now it’s theirs.’ He nodded to the girls. ‘My father was still alive when Percy and Hazel got married, and he let them live in the town house that belonged to the duchy. Rowland bought his own house, knowing he’d need a place to live when the time came for him to sit in the House of Lords, and that Leslie wouldn’t want to live with Hazel.’
‘She wouldn’t?’ The old Duchess had never said an unkind word about Hazel. She’d always been welcoming when her husband’s family had come to stay at Havenbrook.
He shook his head. ‘No one blamed her, either. Percy and Hazel have always been...well, Percy and Hazel. But I don’t remember them being this nasty.’
He looked at her, and she shrugged, shaking her head. ‘I only saw them a few times prior to Rowland and Leslie’s deaths.’
Letting out a sigh, he shrugged. ‘Even though he tried to stop us this morning, stop me from taking you and the girls to London, Percy knows I’m in the right. Rowland’s will appointed me guardian, and he has to abide by that until—if—the courts say differently. Which they won’t. I’ll make sure of that.’
Thinking of the plan she’d set for herself, of what she had to do in order to help him, and knowing she had much to learn, she asked, ‘Did you know the old—Leslie well?’
He nodded. ‘I don’t remember not knowing her. Her father and mine were good friends. It wasn’t an official arrangement, but everyone knew that Rowland and Leslie would get married one day. He was eight years older than me, and my best friend. I waited for him to come home during school breaks. I remember one time, when I was seven or so, Leslie was at Havenbrook, waiting for him to come home, too. I was mad, because I thought Rowland would spend all of his time with her. I was wrong. She was the one to make sure to include me, even when I’m sure they’d rather not have had me tag along.’
Aislinn believed that. It sounded like the old Duchess—she’d always spoken very highly of Luke.
‘Percy tried to nose his way in between them for years,’ Luke said. ‘When he couldn’t do it, he paired up with Hazel, and the two of them made sure they got married before Rowland and Leslie.’ Luke shook his head. ‘He’d been boastfully proud of being the first one married, and our mother said that we needed to let him have his time, because as the middle son, he rarely got that. Rowland was the oldest, and I’m the youngest, and that made Percy feel left out.’
In Aislinn’s mind, feeling left out was no reason to behave the way she’d seen Percy behave. It still shamed her that she hadn’t done more to protect her charges. That would never happen again.
‘Do you remember much about the letters Rowland read?’ Luke asked.
‘Yes, they were very interesting,’ she replied.
He was frowning slightly, as if contemplating something thoroughly. ‘You said Claire, I believe was her name, the other nanny at one time, is still living at the London house?’
‘Yes, she is.’
He was rubbing his chin and nodding. ‘Good, then she will be able to take care of Fern and Ivy while you go with me.’
Her nerves tingled. ‘Go where?’
‘To see the solicitor.’ He leaned sideways, closer to her, until his upper arm bumped her shoulder gently. ‘We’re partners, remember?’