Jacob paced in the parlor. He could see the road leading through the wall surrounding the estate house and across the moor toward Porthlowen. A closed carriage had appeared along it almost fifteen minutes ago.
How long did it take for four people to emerge from a carriage and to be brought to where he waited? Without his lessons with Carrie, he would have gone out to greet his family right in front of Warrick Hall. She had told him that would require him to have the household servants flanking him in order for his family to be welcomed properly. As he did not want to interrupt the work continuing throughout the house, he had decided to wait and have his guests escorted to him.
Had something gone amiss? Unlikely, because Wherry was as well versed as Carrie in the proper way to welcome guests. The footmen she had engaged were well trained, so they would not loiter or forget to bring his guests to the parlor.
He went to the window and peered out past the draperies like a naughty imp peeking through the newel posts at his elders when he was supposed to be in bed. The carriage was drawn up by the main entrance. Mud splattered it, and scrapes along the sides revealed that the family’s long journey from Cumberland had included narrow roads edged by unkempt hedgerows.
Letting the draperies fall into place, Jacob knew Carrie had been right. She should not be present when Jacob welcomed his family to Warrick Hall. His stepmother and her nieces would be exhausted from their journey, and they would want to look their best when they met the daughter of an earl.
Even so, he wished she was standing beside him as he waited for his family to be shown into the refurbished parlor. She would have directed the conversation so that he made no social solecisms, and she would assure that his family had a warm welcome.
But that was not the only reason he would like to have her by his side. When she was not nearby, his life seemed dull and colorless. She walked into the room, and every hue of the rainbow burst forth. It might be her laughter or her pretty smile or the love she gave the children or even the effort she had put into helping him and Warrick Hall be what his family expected. An aura of gentle warmth surrounded her.
Muffled voices came from the direction of the entry hall. Jacob gave the room one final glance. The large mirror Carrie had discovered behind the cradle hung over the fireplace. The shelves along one wall were filled with books that had been aired, so the musty odor had vanished. The stench of strong pipe smoke was gone as well from the furniture that had spent every possible moment on the stone terrace behind the parlor. The three strong footmen had helped him rescue the settee and upholstered chairs from a sudden downpour on several occasions.
The furniture had been placed on the rug to hide scorched marks and other stains that could not be removed. Lamps glowed warmly on tables scattered throughout the room, making the space cozier. Everything was exactly as Carrie had asked for it to be arranged. He could not imagine how anyone would find fault with it, even his stepmother.
He halted that thought. Beverly might be exacting, but she meant well. She had been more pleased than he was at the announcement that he was the heir to a baron who had recently died. At her insistence, he had left Cambridge in the middle of the term to go up to London to be invested with his title and the family estate before coming to Cornwall. She might not have given birth to him and to Emery, but she loved them deeply.
His promise to his father to look after his family and provide for them rang through his mind. He had failed to protect Virginia. He would not fail his family.
The door opened, and Jacob drew in a deep breath. He released it as Wherry stepped in.
With a bow that must have made his old bones creak, the butler said, as formally as if he were announcing guests at Almack’s, “Mrs. Warrick, Mr. and Mrs. Warrick, Miss Bolton.”
His effusive stepmother rushed past Wherry, who regarded her with the same dismay as a dowager finding a burglar in her bedchamber. Beverly paid him no mind as she embraced Jacob.
“My dear boy, we have missed you!” She wore a dark traveling outfit, which gave her light brown hair a ruddy glow. More silver among the strands glittered in the lamplight than the last time he had seen her. She was a woman who was politely called handsome because her nose was too long for her face, and her eyes tended to squint. She was too vain to wear spectacles as he did.
“It has been less than six months since the last time you saw me,” he replied.
“It seems a lifetime.”
He smiled, accustomed to her extravagant exaggerations. “It is good to see you.”
Beverly kissed his cheek, then eyed him. “You look thin, Jacob. Are you getting enough to eat?”
Emery laughed. “Do you really need to ask that? I doubt he has eaten or slept much since he got here and found out how much work the mines needed. Every letter he has written to us has been filled with explanations of the multitude of tasks he faces.” Clapping Jacob on the shoulder, he chuckled again. His younger brother was growing wider around the middle, and a balding spot peeked through his black hair. “And it has sounded as if you are enjoying every minute of your time in Cornwall, big brother.”
“I have.” He was astonished to realize it was the truth. Even before Carrie had come to play such a large part in his life, he had been fascinated with the stark moors and the vast sea. Problems at the mines and working to make the mining families’ homes more comfortable were tasks he enjoyed because his mind was challenged to find solutions. And the time he was able to spend with Carrie and the children was an extra blessing he had not expected.
“You will give us a tour of the mines, won’t you?” Emery asked. “After what you have written to us, I am curious to see these great gashes in the earth myself.”
“Gash? I would not describe a tin mine that way. They look more like a small hole leading to a bottomless pit.”
“You cannot be thinking of going into the mines.” Helen Warrick was a younger version of her aunt, though she smiled far less often than Beverly did. She took every situation seriously. As Emery did not, they were a good pair.
“We have come to Cornwall,” his brother said, “and I intend to see the source of its greatest income throughout history.” He winked at Jacob. “Besides, if my older brother, who always has hidden his nose in a book, is willing to go underground, how can I not do the same?”
Helen opened her mouth, and Jacob guessed she was about to remonstrate with his brother, giving him a list of reasons why he was wrong.
Before she had a chance to say a single one, Beverly drew the other young woman forward and said, “Allow me to introduce Miss Faye Bolton.” She did not nudge him with her elbow, but the look she gave him suggested that she had. “Faye, this is my stepson Jacob, Lord Warrick.”
Jacob would have known that she was Helen’s sister without any introduction. Like his sister-in-law, she had a thin face and large, luminous brown eyes. Unlike her, Miss Bolton did not have a hawkish nose. Slender and tall, she moved with the grace of a willow, but did not say more than a quiet greeting in a voice that was pleasant on the ear. She remained by his stepmother’s side, her eyes lowered demurely.
I wonder if she has had as much fun as I have learning proper manners. Jacob silenced the thought that would have rewarded him with a frown if Carrie heard him say it aloud.
Your only thoughts should be on the comfort and needs of your guests. Carrie’s voice, filled with both gentle amusement and frustration at his many questions, popped into his head.
Yes, my lady. Again he was struck by the yearning to laugh, and again he submerged it.
“Welcome to Warrick Hall, Miss Bolton.” He took the hand she held out to him and bowed over it as Carrie had taught him. When he straightened, he saw surprise and delight in Beverly’s eyes.
“Thank you, my lord.” Her voice was soft and wispy, pitched to intrigue a man.
Quickly releasing her hand, he turned to greet his sister-in-law. Helen had been watching, wide-eyed, as he bowed over her sister’s hand. With a wink at his brother, he copied the motions he had made with her sister.
Unlike her sister, Helen giggled before saying, “You certainly act like a baron, Jacob.”
“And I want you to act like a baron’s guests. The staff at Warrick Hall is here to do your bidding. Would you like something to eat? If you prefer to rest, I can have a light repast sent to your chambers.”
“Having our meals delivered to our rooms would be lovely.” His stepmother beamed as if she had instilled lordly manners in him herself. “Our journey has been long and tiring. Perhaps we should reconvene tomorrow at breakfast when we have had a rest.”
“You ladies go ahead,” Emery said. “If you do not mind, I will stay here a while longer. That way we brothers can talk.”
Curious why his brother, who looked as fatigued as the women, was forgoing the opportunity to rest, Jacob picked up the brass bell that sat on a nearby table. He rang it once, then a second time. From beyond the door, he heard hasty footfalls before a knock was placed on it.
Killigew, the most recently hired footman, came in and bowed his head properly. “Yes, my lord?”
“Will you have the ladies escorted to the rooms that have been made ready for them?” he asked. “I am sure they would be interested in seeing the vases in the short gallery on their way.”
The young man nodded hard, and Jacob guessed his message had been conveyed. Killigew must take the Warrick ladies and Miss Bolton only by the prearranged path to their chambers. They must be allowed no hint that the rest of the house did not match the grandeur of the few rooms prepared for their visit.
After Jacob urged them to ring if they needed anything and to make themselves at home, the ladies took their leave. Helen aimed an inquisitive glance at Emery but followed the others.
A second footman arrived with a tray topped by a hearty tea. He set it on a low table beside the chairs arranged near the hearth, then left without saying a word.
Emery watched with wide eyes. When the door closed behind the footman, he said, “I knew your life would be different after Uncle Maban left you his title and the estate, but I never imagined you having servants. A butler and footmen as well as the stablemen.” He glanced at the tray. “And a cook and maids, also, I’m assuming.”
“Warrick Hall is a big house, and it requires many people to keep it running.” He hid his astonishment at how he had come to accept the changes in his life. Even a few weeks ago, he had questioned if he could give orders to his staff and not feel uncomfortable. With Carrie’s help, he had learned better how to live a life he never had imagined.
“I doubt I could emulate a fine milord as well as you do, Jake.” He grimaced. “Or are you addressed now only as Jacob?”
“If you prefer to call me Jake, do.”
“What does that fine family in the great house we passed call you?”
“Jacob or Warrick, depending on which one I am speaking to.”
“Does one of the earl’s daughters call you by your Christian name?” He winked. “Or does the earl have only sons?”
“He has daughters, one married and one a widow, as well as two sons.” He chose his words with care. “You will meet the Trelawney family when we go to church in the morning.”
Emery chuckled before selecting a sandwich and taking a generous bite. After swallowing, he said, “It sounds as if you are fitting right in here.”
“I’m learning.” He motioned for his brother to take a seat.
“No, thanks. I have been sitting in that accursed carriage for longer than I care to think about. I know Father and his brother wanted to make sure they did not encounter each other, but Father did not need to travel to the far reaches of northern England before he settled down.”
Jacob wondered how much his brother knew of why the two brothers had become estranged. He would tell Emery the truth before his brother and the rest of the family returned north with Miss Bolton.
Miss Bolton... He sighed. That was a problem he needed to deal with quickly, but he must not hurt the young lady’s feelings.
“What do you think of Faye?” asked his brother as he wandered around the room, looking at each item Carrie had selected for the space.
“You expect me to have formed an opinion when we have spoken scarcely a score of words to each other?”
“No love at first sight?” Emery snapped his fingers. “You didn’t look at her and fall like that?”
“Of course not.”
“You haven’t changed completely, Jake. You always have been the careful one. No pretty lady is going to sweep you off your feet and urge you to throw caution to the wind.”
Jacob selected a sandwich. “Even you, the one who is well-known for taking risks, courted your wife for over a year before you asked her to wed.”
“True.” He finished his sandwich in a few large bites, then said, “Maybe we should sit.”
His brother did not look in his direction as he took a chair by the hearth. Jacob sat facing him and noticed how Emery’s hands opened and closed into fists, a sure sign his brother was nervous.
“What is wrong?” Jacob asked, seeing no reason to dissemble.
“I need to speak to you of an important matter.” His brother lowered his eyes and rubbed his hands nervously on his thighs.
“What is it?”
“I am, as I have heard it said, sitting on a penniless bench.”
Jacob stared at his brother in disbelief. His brother had no money? How was that possible? Even though their uncle had made no effort to get to know his closest living relatives, he had provided for Emery as well as his heir. A bequest of more than £20,000 had been provided for Emery, an amount that had emptied a good portion of Warrick Hall’s coffers, leaving Jacob needing to watch every penny. That had been not much more than a year ago. How could one man spend that amount of money in such a short time?
He asked the question aloud. When his brother did not give his usual quick answer, Jacob said, “I don’t understand, Emery. You need to explain to me. Were you robbed?”
“Yes, but willingly.”
“I don’t understand.”
Emery set himself on his feet and walked to look out the window at the early twilight settling on the moors. “I know you don’t. As you said, you don’t take risks.”
“I have.” He did not add more, because he never had confided to his brother about the risk he had taken the night Virginia died. He recalled the carriage rocking wildly, which suggested they had been traveling at a rapid rate. He should have kept Virginia, who was unaccustomed to driving, to a slower pace. Or had he tried? He wished he could remember for certain.
“I am sure it was a calculated risk.” Emery paced the room as Jacob had before the family’s arrival. “You always consider every possible outcome before you make a decision.”
“Not always.”
His brother did not seem to hear him because he went on, “I am the one who jumps in without looking, though this time I thought I had examined the variables before I invested. Still, I have ended up with nothing.”
“Emery!” he said sharply to get his brother to focus on him. “What did you invest in?”
“Horses.”
Jacob sighed. He should have guessed the truth. Emery had always admired finely boned horses, especially if they were fast. “Did you lose your inheritance by gambling on horse races?”
“No!” Emery faced him and scowled. “I am no fool, in spite of how it might appear. I despise gambling because one might as well throw away one’s money. I bought horses to breed into an excellent line of racers.”
He kept his groan silent with the greatest of efforts. As much as his brother appreciated horses, he had never spent much time with them except when he was riding or driving. It had been Jacob’s chore to tend them and feed them because straw made Emery sneeze. When Jacob had moved to Warrick Hall, he had urged his brother to hire someone to oversee the care of the family’s two horses. Instead, Emery had used the whole of his inheritance to buy more horses.
Saying nothing, Jacob listened as his brother recounted his woes with buying horses that had proven to be too skittish to train and others that had failed to deliver foals with the potential to win races. The costs of stabling the horses and paying for their care had quickly eaten up his dwindling funds. Emery had attempted to sell some horses in order to concentrate on the best ones, but even that had failed to help. One by one, he had sold the animals, getting far less for them than he had paid. When the final bills were tallied up, he had had enough money to keep the family through the previous winter. Now, even that was gone, and he had only his small income from tutoring students in their village.
“Helen and Beverly don’t know our dire situation,” Emery said with a sigh as he sank into the chair. “They think this is solely a visit to enjoy the holidays with you.”
“Beverly must suspect something is amiss.”
He shook his head. “She has been too intent on other things.”
Jacob did not need to ask what, because he knew his stepmother had been busy making arrangements to have Miss Bolton come with them on this trip. He sighed. Telling his stepmother that he had no plans to wed now would be doubly hard when she learned how Emery had squandered his inheritance.
“She never noticed,” Emery went on, “that some of the nicer pieces in the cottage have been sold.”
“But those were gifts from Helen’s family. Surely she has noticed.”
“If she has, she has said nothing of it.”
“Whatever gave you the idea to invest in race horses?”
He shrugged as if they spoke of nothing more important than what hour the sun would rise in the morning. “The risk seemed negligible, and the rewards would have enabled us to live as grandly as you do, brother. Now I don’t know what we will do. The only thing of value we have left is the cottage itself.”
Jacob considered, for a moment, giving his brother a tour of the unrepaired sections of the house, but doing that would be petty. The part of Warrick Hall that Carrie had helped him get ready for the family was many times the size of the cottage where he and Emery had grown up. Even though he had to be cautious with money, there was enough to enable him to live comfortably as well as update the mines and the terrace houses in the mining village.
Rising, he put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You are welcome to stay here for as long as you wish, of course.”
“Thank you.” He glanced around. “You certainly have enough room for everyone.”
“Eventually, when the whole of the house is repaired, there will be enough room so we each can have our own wing of the house.”
Emery smiled feebly. “I mean it, Jake. I appreciate you opening your doors to us.”
“You are family. This is the family’s estate. The solution seems obvious.”
Getting to his feet, Emery clasped Jacob’s hand. “Thank you. This is not the first time you have saved me.”
“You would do the same for me.”
Emery released his hand and looked away, his shoulders hunching again.
“Is something else amiss?” Jacob asked.
Shaking himself, Emery smiled weakly. “Isn’t that enough? Will you promise me one thing?”
“If I can.”
“Don’t say a word to Beverly or Helen about us staying here.” His voice grew steadier as he said, “I need to be the one to explain why it is necessary. It is my fault.”
“If you want me there to reassure them, say so.”
“No, but thank you. Helen is likely to react badly, and you don’t need to be a target of her anger. I know you, Jake. You will feel like you need to do something to ease the situation, so I don’t feel guilty. I know you have enough guilt, whether you should have or not. I am not going to add more now.”
Jacob nodded, unable to speak. His brother had come to his rescue the night of Virginia’s death. Emery, unlike the rest of the family, knew exactly what had occurred.
When his brother asked him to excuse him, Jacob nodded again. He dropped heavily to a chair and stared into the fire. Emery’s words reminded him of what he must never, ever forget. There had to have been something he could have done to keep Virginia from dying.
If only he could remember so he did not make the same mistake again.
* * *
The interior of the church was bright with sunshine but chilly. Winter seemed determined to lay claim to Cornwall, even though the official start of the season was more than a week away. Carrie moved her toes closer to the metal box, which held stones heated in a fireplace at Cothaire. Drawing Gil nearer, she moved her black wool cloak around both him and Joy. She hoped cuddling together would keep them warm enough through the whole service.
When she heard the whispers around her, Carrie kept her eyes on the pulpit where her brother soon would stand. She had no doubts that Jacob and his family were entering the church. Only strangers could elicit the low buzzing sound as the parishioners murmured their curiosity.
Gil was not circumspect. He shoved aside her cloak and clambered to his feet. Before she could halt him, he called to Jacob, who sat at the rear of the church.
On one side of Jacob were a man who must be his brother, because they resembled each other, though the younger man had a pudgier face, and a woman. Was that his brother’s wife? Even as Carrie looked, the woman turned up her collar and hunched into it. A wave of sympathy rolled over her. The back pews were even colder than the front ones because each time the door opened, the wind blew in. To Jacob’s right, two other women were seated. The older woman must have been his stepmother and the younger, his sister-in-law’s sister.
Her heart tightened when she saw how lovely the younger woman was. There was an inherent grace in every movement she made, even the slightest motion of her hand. She appeared to be the perfect choice to be the wife of a baron who would depend on her to oversee his household and make sure his guests felt at home.
Would he change his mind about marrying, now that he had met Miss Bolton? Whatever made him determined to delay taking a wife might matter far less now.
And Jacob looked dashing, with a dark cloak over his greatcoat. His hair had been mussed by the wind, giving it a rakish appearance. Easily she could envision him, dressed as a feudal lord, standing on a curtain wall around his estate, daring the invaders to come closer. She turned her eyes forward as her mind formed the image of herself in medieval garb standing beside him, her hand over his on the wall.
Trying to swallow past her suddenly constricted throat, she realized, when she heard chuckles from the nearby pews, Gil was waving enthusiastically to Jacob.
Behind her, Mrs. Thorburn sniffed in disapproval. “Children who cannot behave properly should not come to church,” she said loud enough for Carrie to hear.
Carrie whispered to Gil to sit again, unsure she could have spoken more loudly even if she wished.
“Jacob sit here,” he said as he nestled against her.
“Not today.”
He pushed away. “Gil sit with Jacob.”
“Not today. Shh,” she whispered when Raymond walked into the sanctuary, the signal the service was about to begin.
The little boy subsided, but the moment the benediction was done, he jumped from the pew and rushed behind Raymond up the aisle toward the door. Smiles followed him as he stopped in front of Jacob and held up his hands. He giggled when Jacob shook one, then he ran to Carrie.
Tousling the little boy’s hair, Carrie stood. She took care not to jostle Joy, who had fallen asleep. She joined the others filing out of church. They had gone about halfway to the door when Gil halted not far from the Winwood sisters.
“Boat,” Gil said with excitement.
She shook her head. “It is too cold for going to the cove today, Gil.”
“Boat.” He tugged on her coat and raised his voice. “Boat.”
She bent and put her fingers to his lips. “Let’s talk about the boats later.”
He pouted for a moment, then took off again, weaving among the parishioners until he reached where Jacob stood by the door. He pointed at Carrie and loudly said, “Boat.”
Jacob scooped him up and whispered something in his ear. Gil giggled before throwing his arms around Jacob’s neck.
“Lord Warrick dotes on the boy,” Miss Hyacinth said with a broad smile as Carrie paused to let the elderly twins step from their pew.
“Anyone with eyes can see that,” Miss Ivy added.
“And the baby, as well. He always has a special smile for her.”
“As he does for you, Lady Caroline.”
“A very special smile.”
Knowing she had to put a halt to the course of the conversation before others began paying attention, Carrie said, “If you will excuse me, I need to get the children home while the rain is holding off.”
“Go,” Miss Hyacinth urged. “Damp is not good for children.”
“Or anyone else.” Miss Ivy laughed.
“Better rain than snow, though.”
Miss Ivy grew serious. “Snow is coming. You can see it in how heavy the clouds are.”
“Yes, we should leave ourselves.”
“Excuse us, Lady Caroline.”
“Have a pleasant Sunday.”
Carrie thanked them, but she doubted they heard because they continued their conversation as they went along the aisle. If they saw the indulgent smiles in their wake, they gave no sign.
After stopping to thank her brother for an excellent service he had led, she looked around for Gil. He was sitting on Jacob’s shoulders, chatting to Jacob’s family as if he had known them since the day he was born.
She stopped long enough to pull her cloak over Joy who was sound asleep; then she crossed the churchyard to where the Warrick family stood near the lych-gate. Introductions were made quickly, and Jacob gave her a clandestine wink when he handled them as etiquette required.
“Welcome to Porthlowen Cove,” she said with a smile. “I assure you not every day is as gray and dreary as today is. When the sun is shining, this is one of the prettiest places you will ever see.”
The senior Mrs. Warrick eyed her closely. “You are the earl’s oldest. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“But your husband has been dead... That is, the children are young...” Color rushed up her face.
Jacob interjected, “These are two of the children I mentioned to you at breakfast. Some of the ones found in the small boat floating in the cove.”
“Oh, now it makes sense.” Mrs. Warrick’s color returned to normal. “How good of you to take in these waifs, Lady Caroline!”
“I am the one blessed by having them in my life.”
Jacob’s family excused themselves, and Carrie guessed Mrs. Warrick was embarrassed. When she said the same to Jacob, who lingered behind as he set Gil on the ground, she urged him to reassure his stepmother that she was not distressed by her comments.
“Maybe you should give my whole family lessons in deportment,” he said as the wind caught his cape and flapped it behind him like dark wings.
She laughed. “Don’t judge anyone else by the standards I have been teaching you. I appreciate plain-speaking people. Your stepmother was curious about the children, so she asked.”
“And she is curious about you. As you know, my family has not had much interaction with the peerage.”
“Jacob, stop apologizing for them. Nobody said anything I found uncomfortable. A widow of almost six years having two such young children would create questions wherever I went beyond Porthlowen. Here, everyone knows the story.” Her smile broadened. “Did they find the redone rooms comfortable?”
He visibly relaxed as he nodded. “Quite. Now I only need to convince them not to go into the other parts of the house.”
“The best way is to keep them busy.”
“Will you help me find ways to entertain them?”
“Certainly. I have helped you thus far. Why would I stop now?”
When he smiled and her heart did a dance, she knew she may have made a big mistake. She must be certain this was the last time she assisted him. She was enjoying it far more than she should.