The girls were still sleeping in the room connected to hers when Aislinn, fully dressed in one of her governess dresses, put the final pin in her hair, securing it into a tight bun at the back of her head. There were so many thoughts in her mind, she didn’t know which one to focus on. But she did know that none of them would ease the nervousness encompassing her.
Thinking about Luke reminded her that she should never have hugged him. No matter how much she liked him, she knew her position in life and needed that role to remain unblemished for the sake of the girls.
Thoughts of Fern and Ivy increased her nerves, too. If Luke failed to secure guardianship, life would be so very difficult for them.
Percy’s exceeding enmity, as well as Hazel’s, not only irritated her nerves, it made her blood boil. His narcissistic behaviour was hurting so many people.
It rankled her to think about all of the good, kind people who worked here and at Havenbrook. People who had been devoted to the old Duke and Duchess, had enjoyed working for them.
It was all so unjust, so unfair, to all of them, including Luke. He’d found a life in America that he loved, and then all of this had been thrust upon him.
A knock on the door stifled her wandering thoughts, and she lifted her chin, hoping to ease her qualms as she crossed the room to open the door.
‘Just as I suspected,’ Claire said, entering the room and carrying a tray from the kitchen. She was followed by Millie, the upstairs maid with red-brown hair and big brown eyes, who also had her hands full, mainly with a frilly dress.
Aislinn closed the door. ‘Suspected what?’
‘That you needed something suitable to wear,’ Claire said, setting the tray on the table. ‘You can’t go about town dressed as a governess.’
‘I am a governess,’ Aislinn needlessly reminded her.
‘You are, but right now, you are also our only hope.’ Claire said, gesturing to the bed where Millie laid a lovely bright yellow and white lace dress. ‘Mr Carlisle needs the courts to know that he is the right guardian for the girls, and there is no one better to help him than you. Once his guardianship is fully confirmed, we can all start living normally again.’
Whilst speaking, Claire had gestured as if telling Aislinn to take off her dress. She hadn’t, because she recognised the yellow dress. ‘I can’t wear that. It belonged to the Duchess.’
‘One of the few that Hazel didn’t confiscate. She took any that she thought she could have altered to fit her.’ Claire had her hands on her hips. ‘I’m sure the Duchess would rather see you wear her clothing than her sister-in-law, especially when you are the one working to secure the future of her daughters.’
‘But I can’t—’
‘It’s not a ball gown,’ Claire interrupted. ‘It’s a simple day dress, which is another reason Hazel didn’t take it. Now, take off your dress. Millie will fix your hair as soon as we get this on you. You can eat your breakfast while she’s doing that.’
Aislinn was still unsure.
‘Think of Mr Carlisle,’ Claire said. ‘He’s wearing a suit today. Don’t you think he’d prefer you be dressed well also?’
She was unsure of many things, but there was one thing she knew. If she kept telling herself that she couldn’t do this, then she wouldn’t be able to. Huffing out a sigh, Aislinn unbuttoned the front of her dress.
Within moments, she was wearing the yellow dress, adorned with several layers of white lace around the full skirt and the detailed, fitted bodice. Unlike the drab, shapeless dress she’d removed, this one hugged her in places that enhanced her feminine curves. ‘Perhaps this is too much,’ she said, seeing her reflection in the mirror.
‘Nonsense,’ Claire said. ‘It fits you like a glove, even without a corset.’
Between the square, lace-trimmed neckline and the short sleeves, her shoulders were barely covered, let alone her upper chest, neck and arms. She tugged at the front, hoping to pull it up a smidgen.
‘There’s a matching yellow cape, so don’t worry about being covered,’ Claire said, pulling her towards a chair. ‘Millie is ready to fashion your hair and pin on the hat.’
Aislinn’s back was to the mirror, so it wasn’t until after Millie had removed the pins from her hair, brushed it, braided it, pinned it back up, and added the hat, that she got a glimpse of herself.
She barely recognised the image staring back at her. Millie had fashioned her hair into a bun, but had added a braid on each side of her face that looped down over her ears, before being pinned up with the rest of her hair. The small yellow hat sat jauntily at an angle on one side of her head, and made her look so different. She felt different, too. The dress was lovely, and the soft leather shoes that Claire had also provided were as comfortable as slippers.
‘You look so beautiful,’ Claire said, looking in the mirror over one of Aislinn’s shoulders.
‘Like a true lady,’ Millie said, gazing into the mirror over Aislinn’s other shoulder.
Aislinn had never considered herself vain, but at this moment, wondered if Luke would think she was pretty. Her heartbeat increased and, drawing in a deep breath, she gave her head a clearing shake. This wasn’t about whether she was pretty or not, nor what Luke thought of her. It was about the guardianship of Fern and Ivy.
She had to remember that, because too often, her thoughts were centred around Luke, and not the girls.
The one thing she didn’t need to worry about was if the girls would be well cared for in her absence, yet she asked, ‘You will assure the girls that I’ll be back later? I don’t want them worrying.’
‘Yes, I will,’ Claire said, hooking arms with Aislinn. ‘Time to go. Mr Carlisle is waiting in the study, and dare I say, he looks very handsome in his finery.’
The air Aislinn attempted to draw in caught in her throat, and she questioned if she should have eaten the toast and egg, for it wasn’t settling well.
Luke had made a mental list of places he needed to stop by today, starting with Mr Watson’s office. As expected, a man had arrived early this morning, hoping to catch the household still sleeping, with what looked like official paperwork for the property to be closed. But it held no court order, was nothing more than a request from a solicitor. Percy’s solicitor no doubt.
With a few choice words, Luke had sent the man away. He was convinced of his rights when it came to this house and the other things that Rowland had specified in his will, but would give the paperwork to Mr Watson to make sure.
The list of things he needed to discuss with the solicitor was growing by the minute, when the rustling of skirts and soft footfalls sounded in the hallway. He collected his morning jacket, that had once belonged to Rowland, from the back of the chair and shrugged it on as he walked across the room.
The mantel clock in the study, where he’d been waiting, said it wasn’t yet eight, and he grinned. Aislinn was true to her word again.
His feet danged near tripped over each other at the sight of her standing in the doorway, and his heart started thudding as hard as it had the first time he’d found a gold nugget. That’s what she reminded him of, a sparkling yellow gold nugget.
Except when he’d found that nugget, he’d whooped so loud it echoed off the mountains. This time, his tongue was tied tighter than a mast knot.
‘Good morning,’ she said.
Her head was tilted slightly to the left, as he noticed she did often, and that little hat perched upon her head looked as if it could topple off. She was a fine-looking woman. Finer than any other he’d ever seen. He gave his throat a quick clearing. ’Morning.’ Not able to think of anything more to say, he settled for, ‘I’ll have Benjamin bring around the carriage. He already hitched up the horses.’
She stepped aside and he nearly bolted past her, knowing he needed a minute or two—or five—to get his mind back in order. He didn’t believe clothes made a person, but damn, she looked amazing in that dress. It fit her to perfection, and was filling his mind with thoughts and images of her that he shouldn’t be having. Not because she was his nieces’ governess, but because she was his partner. They had a lot they needed to accomplish, and he needed all his wits about him.
He’d never had that problem before, but then again, he’d never become so enamoured with a woman. He didn’t want to admit that was the case, but it sure seemed to be. She was on his mind non-stop. Which was understandable, given their situation, except for the fact that the thoughts he kept having had nothing to do with the issues at hand.
Gabe was in the hallway, and with a slight bow, stated, ‘The carriage is being brought around, sir.’
Luke sucked in a breath. So much for a minute to get his thoughts in order. ‘Thanks, Gabe. We’ll be right there.’ Spinning on his heel, he studied Aislinn for a long moment. Pretty women had never left him tongue-tied, nor scared him. She didn’t scare him. He’d just been caught off guard. Like last night, when he’d seen unshed tears in her eyes. He’d acted on impulse then and had given her a hug. That had proven to be a bad idea. The feel of holding her in his arms had stuck with him all night.
She was doing him a mighty favour. He knew it was because of the girls—she loved them as if they were her very own. He appreciated that, too. Appreciated everything she was doing, and he sure as hell didn’t need to complicate things with foolish thoughts.
‘Shall we?’ he asked, crooking his elbow for her to take a hold of.
‘Where is Mr Watson’s office?’ she asked, as her hand hooked the inside of his elbow.
‘Other side of town, but we have plenty of time.’ Then, a normal thought occurred, and he asked, ‘Have you eaten breakfast?’
‘Yes.’
He had to get all his thoughts in order. It couldn’t be that hard. Not even with her at his side. He’d recognised her beauty before now, and her kindness and dedication. She was caring, too, and likeable. An all-around good person. The kind he liked. That’s all there was to it. Getting his thoughts in order wouldn’t be hard at all.
Ironically, that was completely true. As soon as they entered the coach, she began asking questions about things they would discuss with the solicitor, and lo and behold, his mind was back. Although he continued to admire her. He’d lucked out when it came to Aislinn. Not only for meeting her along the road, or the way she cared for the girls, or her willingness to help him, or numerous other things, but for her beauty. A pretty woman had a way of making everything look bright and hopeful.
It was good to know that lady luck hadn’t completely abandoned him.
That held true when they arrived across town. Ethan Watson was in his office and turned out to be an affable man, short and stocky, with a head full of silver-white hair. Luke made introductions and waited for Aislinn to sit on a chair before he lowered onto the one beside her.
Across the desk, in a small office that smelled of pipe smoke, Mr Watson sat and lifted a pair of wire-framed glasses off a stack of papers. Hooking the wires behind his ears, one at a time, he said, ‘Thank you for coming to see me. Although I didn’t expect it this quickly. I didn’t think my message would have got to you, yet.’
‘It was waiting for me when I got off the boat,’ Luke said.
‘I was referring to the one I sent yesterday, to Havenbrook,’ Mr Watson said.
‘I didn’t see that one,’ Luke said, irritated that Percy would now have that message. ‘We left Havenbrook at daybreak yesterday.’
‘I informed the messenger to deliver it only to you, so I’m sure he’ll return with it sometime today.’ Mr Watson placed his elbows on his desk. ‘It appears we’ve had a few more developments in this case since our last messages.’
Luke nodded and started rattling off a list of grievances that Percy had created, including the lack of wages paid to the employees and the attempted closing of the London home, amongst other things more directly related to Percy’s character—or lack thereof—and the guardianship.
Mr Watson listened without interruption, taking notes and adjusting his glasses every now and again, especially while looking over the notice to vacate the property that had been delivered that morning.
Luke was sure there was more he should mention, but at the moment, couldn’t think of what else to add. He looked over at Aislinn, who shrugged slightly and shook her head. He wasn’t completely sure she would have voiced them even if she had other grievances. She wasn’t one to complain—he already knew that. He also knew that she still looked awfully fetching in that dress.
‘Well, then,’ Mr Watson said, with a glance towards Aislinn, ‘I shall start with the payment of wages. There is no law against a man setting a price that he’ll pay for wages, and as long as the employees have agreed, either verbally or in writing, there is nothing to be done about it.’
Luke’s jaw tightened. He’d figured as much, but it was wrong the way Percy went about it. So wrong.
‘I agree it’s not a fair way to treat loyal employees, but it’s not illegal,’ Mr Watson said, while he made a mark on his list. ‘As far as the London home, Rowland clearly willed it to you. Now that you are here and, for the time being, have guardianship of your nieces, the house and employees are under your charge.’
Luke reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a leather wallet. One by one, he took out pieces of papers and handed them across the desk. ‘This is a line of credit from the bank in Bozeman, Montana Territory, secured by my deposits. This one is from Denver, Colorado, also secured by my deposits, as is this last one from New Orleans. I plan on going to the bank and having funds transferred to an account here in London, so the staff and household bills can be paid post-haste. And I will continue to pay all expenses acquired by the London house, including Miss Blaydon’s wages.’
He would see that the dedicated servants at Havenbrook were paid, as well, but would discuss that with Aislinn privately, because he’d seen a few people there whom he didn’t know, but were clearly dedicated to Percy. His brother could pay their wages, and Aislinn could give him a list of the original staff, whom he’d see were paid in full.
Mr Watson was examining each piece of paper he’d given him with interest.
‘I guarantee they’re good,’ Luke said.
‘I don’t doubt that, Mr Carlisle. You have acquired a great deal of wealth in America.’
‘I’ve been lucky in some instances,’ Luke said. This was an ace up his sleeve. ‘I’d prefer that my brother not learn about my assets quite yet.’
‘There is no need for him to know,’ Mr Watson said, as he slid a sheet of paper from one of his piles across the desk. ‘Nor is there a need to transfer money. You have substantial holdings here.’
Luke picked up the paper. The top number was recognisable—it had been the monies he’d inherited from his father. ‘I gave this to Rowland,’ he said. ‘I sent him back the amount that I’d taken with me when I left for America, and when I decided that I probably wouldn’t live here again, I told him to add my share to his.’ That galled him now, thinking that Percy could very well end up with it.
‘I am aware of what you requested,’ Mr Watson said, ‘but your brother chose instead to keep it in your name and to manage it along with the property you had inherited. The reimbursement you sent him, along with your yearly gains, are listed. The bottom total is what is currently on account in your name. As you can see, it’s quite substantial.’
It was at that. Yet, he’d given his funds to Rowland in good faith, and would honour that. Becoming independent had been his goal, and upon doing so, he’d taken pride in the ability to cut ties to the life that had never been the one he wanted. ‘I will use some of this to pay the household expenses, including wages, until a transfer can arrive. Then I’ll repay it and, once the guardianship is secured, I will request these funds be put on account for Fern and Ivy.’
‘As you wish.’ Mr Watson made more notes. ‘Your financial state may assist in our defence that you are not interested in the guardianship for the monies and holdings your nieces have inherited.’
‘Good, because I’m not. No money or holdings will replace their parents.’
‘I agree. The children have suffered a great loss that nothing will ever replace. However, your brother, Rowland, left his daughters a great deal of wealth in monies and holdings that are separate from his title. The courts are taking the guardianship of Miss Fern and Miss Ivy very seriously and scrutinising every detail.’
Luke fully understood what the man was saying. ‘What do you know about the accusations against my character brought forth by my brother? Do you know whose feeding them to the court?’
Mr Watson leaned back in his chair. ‘I have my suspicions, but knowing who it is isn’t as important as proving them wrong.’
Aislinn saw the way Luke’s jaw tightened as he sat back in his chair. Much like she would do when one of the girls was growing agitated, she reached over and laid a hand atop his. ‘I can vouch for what had been written in many of those letters,’ she told Mr Watson, who seemed truly genuine in wanting to help. ‘I was present when the Duke read them aloud.’
‘I’m assuming you are referring to Mr Carlisle’s oldest brother, Rowland,’ Mr Watson said.
‘Yes, sir, I am. The arrival of Luke—Mr Carlisle’s letters always brought excitement. He has a way with words that had everyone wanting to listen when his letters were read.’
‘You’re saying that others were present when they were read, besides yourself?’ Mr Watson asked.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Do you believe they would be willing to offer testimony?’
She started to say yes, but the truth was, they might not. ‘I believe some would, but they may have been told they will lose their employment if they do.’
‘I see,’ he said, jotting down something on the paper. ‘Do you know where these letters are located?’
Frustrated, she shook her head. ‘No, sir. The Duke, Mr Carlisle’s brother Percy, took possession of everything that Mr Carlisle had mailed to his oldest brother.’ Not willing to leave it at that, she continued, ‘If I may, sir, in one of his letters, Luke started out by saying that he could now be referred to as a cattle rustler, that he’d acquired a fine herd of cattle.’
After Luke had talked about that letter, she remembered more about it and some others. ‘He then wrote about the breeds of cattle, their hardiness, then the land, the people, the weather. It wasn’t until much later in the letter that he explained he hadn’t actually rustled the cattle, but that other men had, and Luke had helped return the stolen cattle to their rightful owner.’
Mr Watson glanced between her and Luke. When his gaze landed on her hand, still resting atop Luke’s, she removed it and folded both hands in her lap, cheeks burning.
‘Is that a correct summary?’ he asked Luke.
‘Yes, it is.’ Luke leaned forward, hands planted on his knees. ‘It was that way with all the letters—they were easy to misconstrue. I gambled some on riverboats, but the boat I wrote about, I bought off a guy in Tennessee who was about to lose it in a game. I fixed it up, hired some new people, and sailed it down to New Orleans, where I sold it. I also spent time in the gold fields, found some colour, but I discovered that also wasn’t what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, so I bought a smelter to process other people’s finds. I ended up selling that, too. As far as the dance hall gals, they’d managed to fall in the river. I simply came upon them and fished them out, then found their horse and buggy, and sent them on their way.’
Aislinn didn’t remember a letter concerning a riverboat or dance hall gals, and was listening as intently as Mr Watson.
‘Did he mention this?’ Luke asked, as he untied his ascot and unbuttoned his shirt, then pulled out a leather strap. ‘The bear claw that a little boy’s grandfather gave me for rescuing his grandson?’
Aislinn didn’t recall that story, either, but believed every word. It also endeared him to her even more. Anyone who knew him would find it impossible to believe that he had anything in mind except the very best interests for Fern and Ivy.
‘The courts need to see the whole letters,’ Luke said, while retying his ascot, after tucking the leather necklace back beneath his clothing and buttoning his shirt. ‘Not just the sections that Percy is secretly serving them.’
Mr Watson nodded. ‘I’ll include that in my petition to the courts.’ He leaned back and rubbed his chin. ‘There is still, possibly, the most important aspect. The current Duke and Duchess, Percy and Hazel, are just that. A Duke and Duchess. A married couple, with a child of their own, who live here, in England. You, even without a blemish on your character, are a single man, who does not reside in this country. You just admitted to me that you gave the assets you have here to your oldest brother, because you never planned on living here again.’
Aislinn’s heart sank clear to her toes. There was nothing she could say about that, it was true. There was nothing she could do about it, either. Luke was verbally attempting to justify his status to Mr Watson, but nothing he was saying would help. Percy and Hazel sounded like better guardians than him. But they weren’t.
Her stomach was burning, her heart aching. All of this was for naught.
‘I am well aware that Rowland appointed you guardian,’ Mr Watson was saying in response to Luke’s justifications. ‘Great consideration is given to that, but there have been instances when the Court of Chancery has thought it necessary to override the father’s nomination.’
‘This is not one of them,’ Luke stated angrily. ‘The courts would be failing those girls by giving them to Percy and Hazel!’
Aislinn couldn’t agree more and could fully understand Luke’s anger. Her own emotions and thoughts were raging out of control. Fear for Fern and Ivy was creating chaos inside her. They’d already lost so much, and this was truly devasting. Percy and Hazel would find another way to get rid of her, and the girls would be left completely vulnerable to the Duke and Duchess.
‘Those two will strip Fern and Ivy of all Rowland left them,’ Luke declared as he leaped to his feet and slapped the top of the desk. ‘They are probably scheming about marrying the girls off as we speak! To some filthy old goats for God only knows what favours!’
A chill sliced through Aislinn, right through her heart. She’d heard of such things. Arranged marriage happened all the time. She couldn’t allow such a wicked life to be imposed upon Fern and Ivy. Would not.
The mayhem inside her hit a boiling point. Her charges would not be forced to marry—
Her thoughts paused, and everything around her seemed to go quiet, even though they weren’t. Luke was still shouting, and Mr Watson was attempting to calm him down. She could see all that, hear all that, even as her own thoughts drowned it all out as they battled against each other in her mind.
One side of her was telling her she couldn’t. The other side was saying it was their only chance. Their only hope.
His only hope. Luke had travelled halfway around the world to fulfil a promise to his brother. He’d left behind a ranch, a life full of adventures, a life that he loved. But he loved his brother more. Loved him so much he was here, fighting, doing everything he could for Rowland’s final wish to be granted.
Before the other side of her could challenge her desperate idea any further, she stood. ‘Luke and I are getting married as soon as possible.’
It had just so happened that silence had fallen between the men a split second before she’d spoken, and now it grew even deeper.
A silence so deep, the only thing she could hear was her own heart echoing in her ears.
She’d never known a person could be sweating and have the chills at the same time, unless of course they’d come down with a terrible fever. Maybe she had. Maybe she’d come down with a fever so high she’d completely lost her mind.
At least the part that was normally sensible.
Marriage had never crossed her mind. Not until a moment ago, when it seemed like a solution. The only solution.
Mr Watson’s gaze was bouncing between her and Luke, and Luke’s gaze was fixed on her. She could feel it burning the side of her face. Her nerves were completely frazzled, and she would bet that the permanent grin was not on his face just then. It hadn’t been moments ago, either, while he’d been so upset over the guardianship battle. Now she was quite sure that he was looking at her with undisguised repulsion.
She was a governess. He was a man of the ton. Whether he wanted it that way or not, that was the truth. His family was a member of the high society, therefore, no matter where he chose to live, he was too. It was a birthright.
Men of his station in life did not marry the likes of her. A woman who had no claim to status even in the most meagre way.
Her only hope, her greatest hope, was that he loved his nieces as much as she did. Which was completely unfair of her, but what else were they do to?
She bit down on the tip of her tongue. Clearly, she shouldn’t have blurted out that they were getting married. Discussing that as a possible option would have been far more prudent. But time was of the essence. Perhaps later, once his temper had cooled, she could make her point, explain in earnest that they truly had very few options. And the risks...the risks were so very high for Fern and Ivy.
Slowly, cautiously, she prepared to face him. To break the still silence that was filling the room, making her heartbeat echo in her ears. She had decided that she needed to become stronger, bolder, more assertive. Well, she had certainly mastered that. With only one sentence.
Holding her breath, and with her teeth still embedded in her tongue, she twisted her neck and lifted her eyes to meet Luke’s.