Chapter
12

Hannah’s hand, encased tightly within Nolan’s, trembled like leaves caught in a gust of wind. Her first instinct had been to flee. Get back in the carriage and keep on going—anywhere but into that house to face the earl and her mother.

But Nolan’s good sense had prevailed. They had to face his father sometime, he’d reasoned. It had just happened a little sooner than expected.

Hannah willed her legs to move up the few rickety steps to the farmhouse door. Nolan’s fierce scowl did little to ease her anxiety. What would he say to the earl? She prayed he would keep his temper in check.

Lord, give me the strength to get through this. And help Nolan to stay calm.

Her mother answered on their first knock. Hannah’s heart rate sprinted at the sight of the woman she both loved and resented. Her mother had aged over the years, her brown hair now streaked with gray. An array of fine wrinkles wreathed the skin around her tired eyes, and a plain dress hung loosely on her thin frame. She must be working herself to the bone to keep up with the house and the children.

“Hello, Hannah. We’ve been expecting you.”

No smile of welcome, no embrace for a daughter dearly missed. Only lines of worry hugging her mouth, and nervous energy that came off her in waves as she peered out over their shoulders to the fields beyond—no doubt making sure her husband was not in the vicinity.

Hannah stepped inside the door, which opened into the kitchen. The lingering scent of the morning’s bread hung in the air. Hannah gave her mother a brief nod. “Hello, Mum.” She turned, almost colliding with Nolan behind her. “This is . . . this is Nolan Price.” She threw him an apologetic glance, not sure if she should reveal their marriage now that the earl was here.

Nolan stepped forward. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Fielding.”

Her mother shook Nolan’s hand and motioned them to come farther inside. She leaned closer to Hannah, gripping her arm. “Maybe one of you would care to explain why there is an earl in my sitting room? Lord Stainsby arrived an hour ago and told me you would be coming.” Her tone held a hint of accusation, as though Hannah had forced him here.

She flinched from the iron grip of her mother’s fingers. “It’s a long story.” She turned miserable eyes to Nolan who stood rigid beside her, his jaw clenched.

“You two had better come with me.” Her mother turned on her heel and disappeared down a hallway.

Hannah stared after her. The heat from Nolan’s hand at the small of her back cued her frozen feet to move.

“It’s all right, Hannah.” Nolan’s warm breath stirred the tendrils of hair at her temple. “He can rant and rave, but he can’t change the fact that we are legally married.”

She nodded, wanting to believe those comforting words, yet a deep, cold part of her worried that his father would find some way to tear them apart.

The earl unfolded his tall frame from the chair by the hearth and rose to his full height, eclipsing Ann Fielding, who stood beside the faded sofa.

Keeping Hannah to his side, Nolan stopped in the middle of the room, feet wide, prepared to do battle with his father. Nolan held his head high—no servant’s submission would he show. He was a married man now, protecting his wife. “What are you doing here, sir? Why are you imposing on Hannah’s family in this manner?”

“Mr. Price. Miss Burnham.” The earl gave a slight bow. “So nice you could join us.” Though his features remained neutral, his tone oozed with subtle intimidation.

“My lord.” Hannah dropped a curtsy, then straightened. She kept her head bent, gaze fused to the braided rug at their feet.

Nolan clamped his back teeth together, his jaw muscle tightening. How dare he make Hannah feel inferior in her mother’s home? “You haven’t answered my question,” he said.

“I have been enjoying Mrs. Fielding’s company. I also had the opportunity to meet her younger daughter, Molly. Such a pretty child.” The earl lingered on the last word, his eyes narrowed on Hannah. “It seems congratulations are in order on Molly’s upcoming nuptials.”

Under Nolan’s arm, Hannah’s frame stiffened.

A flicker of awareness flashed in Edward’s eyes, almost as if he’d been baiting Hannah on purpose in order to gauge her reaction.

Nolan had no idea what game the earl was playing, but he wouldn’t allow his bride to become a pawn. “Hannah, would you and your mother excuse us, please? I’d like to speak to Lord Stainsby in private.”

Mrs. Fielding looked to the earl as though seeking permission, and Hannah threw Nolan a desperate look.

Despite Edward’s glare, Nolan placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “It will be fine. Go and visit with your mother and sister.”

She bit her lip and nodded, then dropped another slight curtsy before following her mother out of the room.

The moment the women left, all false niceties fell away.

“By all that is holy, tell me you have not gone and married that chit.” Edward’s eyes glittered as hard and cold as the glass bowl in the center of the gateleg table.

Nolan held his fists at his sides to avoid the temptation of using them. “You, sir, will speak of my wife with respect.”

“So, my suspicions are correct.” The quiet words packed more punch than a bellow.

Nolan held his stance, refusing to be intimidated. “Yes, we are married—legally and before God.”

Edward paced in front of the hearth. “No matter. Your mistake can still be undone.”

“No, it cannot.” With supreme effort, Nolan kept his temper in check. “We are united in all the ways that will matter to a judge.”

The earl stopped and seared Nolan with a hard look. “Do not presume that I am without the means or the influence to fix this. I have the power to pull whatever strings necessary to dissolve this union.”

The threat hung in the air between them.

Nolan’s last thread of hope that he would be able to foster a real relationship with his father unraveled faster than the ball of yarn in Mrs. Fielding’s knitting basket. All his life, Nolan had dreamed about having a father to look up to, to be proud of. Now it seemed he’d been better off not knowing his father at all.

Nolan took a measured step forward. “Do not presume,” he said, his tone just as threatening, “that I value your paternity, your position, or your wealth above the love of my wife.” He spoke with a calm that belied his inner rage. “Because if you force me to choose, I will take Hannah and leave Stainsby—for good.”

“What manner of trouble have you gotten into now?” Hannah’s mother lifted a shaky hand to peer through the curtain at the kitchen window. She looked left and right, then let the lacey panel fall back into place. When she turned, her mouth was pressed into a grim line.

Hannah stood in the center of the room, fingers clasped together in an effort to calm her wayward nerves. “I’m sorry, Mum. I had no idea the earl would come after us here.”

“What have you done to make him chase you? Stolen his property?” She jabbed a finger toward the door. “That buggy out there belongs to him, does it not?”

Hannah couldn’t quite meet her mother’s glare. “Nolan borrowed it . . . for our wedding trip.”

“Wedding?” The high color in her mother’s cheeks faded to gray. She clutched the kitchen table and lowered herself onto a chair. “Don’t tell me you married that boy.”

Hannah fingered the metal wedding band, trying to let the sting of disapproval roll off her. She would not let her mother make her feel like she’d done something wrong, not about this. She lifted her chin. “Yes. Two days ago at the church in Stainsby,” she said quietly. “I love Nolan very much.”

“Fat lot of good love does you.” Her mother scowled.

Hannah winced. Was she thinking of Hannah’s dear father? How he’d promised to provide for her, but died unexpectedly, leaving them with nothing?

“That still doesn’t explain why an earl would bother chasing after two of his servants. If he didn’t approve of the marriage, he’d simply sack you when you returned.” Her hard eyes narrowed. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Hannah shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “It turns out Nolan is the earl’s son. His mother revealed the news on her deathbed not long ago.”

Understanding dawned. “And Lord Stainsby is none too happy that his son ran off with a maid.” She heaved a great sigh and pushed up from the table. “Well, this is a fine mess you’ve made of your life.”

Hannah winced. Whatever happened to the mother she used to know, the one who used to laugh and bake cookies with them, the one who wanted the best for her daughters? “You were happy once, weren’t you, Mum?” she asked softly. “When Papa was alive, and we were all living at the rectory?”

“Aye, once.” Her mother pinched her lips together as though trying to keep any emotion from leaking out. “But that was long ago, and there’s no use living in the past.” She darted a glance at the door. “I’ll ask that you be gone before Mr. Fielding returns for his dinner. We don’t need to upset him with all this.” She reached for a basket on a shelf above the sink. “I have beans to pick for our midday meal.”

“Can’t you be happy for me, Mum? At least a little?” Hannah hated the pleading note in her voice and swallowed hard to dislodge the tears threatening to surface.

Her mother stilled, a flash of pain crossing her features. “I hope your marriage is everything you want it to be, daughter,” she said. “But from experience, I doubt very much that it will. I’ll send Molly in to see you.” With a swirl of cotton, she left the house.

Hannah sank onto one of the hard kitchen chairs, grateful for a moment to compose herself, free of the tension that had suffocated the room. For an instant, Hannah had hoped her mother might soften, but bitterness had reared its head once again. After the death of Hannah’s father, followed closely by the loss of Hannah’s younger brother, Mum had become a hard, broken woman with little joy in her life. The thought saddened Hannah almost as much as the idea of Molly living in such an atmosphere.

The sound of footsteps pounding up the rickety stairs made Hannah jolt from her seat.

“Hannah, you’re here!”

The kitchen door slammed, and a slim girl hurtled herself into Hannah’s arms, almost knocking her over with her zeal. Molly’s greeting brought warmth to Hannah’s chest, easing the pain of her mother’s indifference. She returned her hug, lingering longer than necessary, then held her sister at arm’s length to study her. “Molly, is that really you?”

Long golden hair hung over her shoulder in a thick plait. The girl was almost as tall as Hannah, and her face had lost its baby roundness. Only her vivid blue eyes remained unchanged.

Hannah swallowed her regret at how much she’d missed of her sister’s life. “My goodness, you’ve grown into a fine young woman.”

“And you look like a grand lady.” Molly smiled, transforming her youthful face into that of a beautiful girl on the brink of womanhood.

“Apparently you haven’t seen too many ladies. I assure you, they are much grander than I.” For the moment, Hannah forgot her troubles and laughed with her sister. Molly’s arrival proved a welcome distraction from what might be happening between Nolan and his father in the other room. “Come and sit down.”

Molly took a seat at the table and sobered at once, her eyes becoming anxious. “I’m so glad you’re here. Promise you’ll speak to Mum and Mr. Fielding. Tell them I don’t want to marry that horrid man.” Her nose wrinkled with distaste. “Mr. Elliott’s old, Hannah. Nearly forty, I think.”

If the situation wasn’t so dire, Hannah might have laughed at Molly’s exaggerated reaction. But no matter the age of the groom, the fact remained that Molly was too young to be married—to anyone. Hannah’s stomach gave an uneasy roll. She wasn’t sure what to expect once they returned to Stainsby, but she hoped Nolan could secure Molly some type of position. If the earl was too angry to allow it, then Hannah would prevail upon Mrs. Bridges to help find Molly work at a neighboring estate. Anything would be better than marrying Mr. Elliott.

“That’s why we’re here.” Hannah leaned close to her sister, the fresh scent of grass and sunshine wafting off Molly’s hair. “We want to bring you back to Stainsby Hall with us.” She kept her voice low for fear of being overheard.

“Oh, Hannah. That would be wonderful.” Then Molly’s eyes clouded over. “But I don’t think Mr. Fielding will allow me to go. The wedding’s set to take place in two weeks’ time.”

“Two weeks?” Hannah gasped. “Why so soon? They haven’t even announced the betrothal.”

“Mr. Elliott’s housekeeper just gave her notice. She’ll be moving away to live with her son. That’s why they’re rushing the ceremony.”

Hannah bristled. Couldn’t the man simply hire another woman? Or did he want Molly for the free labor she’d provide?

“Well, then,” she said firmly, “we’ll have to make sure you leave with us today.” Hannah rose to pull back the curtain at the kitchen window and peered out over the property. In the distant field, the toiling figures of three men and a horse told her the Fieldings were still at work. There was no sign of her mother. She returned to the table.

“It won’t be easy,” she told Molly. “You’ll likely get a position as a maid, and you’ll have to work hard each day. But you’ll receive a wage and have a room of your own.”

Molly grasped her hand. “The work can be no harder than all I do here for no wages at all. Plus I have to share a room with Mr. Fielding’s daughters. My own room sounds like heaven.”

Hannah pressed her lips together to contain her emotions. All these years she’d envied Molly being allowed to stay with her mother and become part of a large family. Suddenly Hannah’s life at Stainsby appeared to be the better one.

“I must tell you my news,” she said. “I have recently married. His name is Nolan and he lives at Stainsby as well.” She paused. Best not to swamp the girl with all the details of Nolan’s situation right away. They would have plenty of time for her to learn the whole story. “Right now, Nolan is speaking with the earl about letting you come back with us.”

The anxiety lifted from Molly’s features. “I hope he manages it. It will save me from having to run away like I’d planned.”

Horror filled Hannah at the thought of what could become of her sister. There were fates worse than marriage for a young girl with no means to support herself. “That won’t be necessary, dearest. One way or the other, we’ll figure something out. I promise.”

Hannah set her jaw. She would not allow Molly’s life to be ruined. If their own mother would do nothing to protect her, then Hannah had no choice but to step in and do whatever it took to guard Molly’s innocence.

Nolan waited for the earl to respond to his ultimatum. Instead of becoming angry, the man had turned pensive, watching him with catlike eyes.

A clock on the mantel ticked out the seconds.

Nolan shifted his weight, wishing he were wearing his comfortable boots. His Sunday shoes pinched his toes, but he refused to take the weight off by sitting down. That would give the earl an edge, and Nolan needed every advantage he could get.

At last, Edward spoke. “I take it Miss Burnham is not pleased by her sister’s upcoming marriage.”

Of all the things he’d prepared for the earl to say, this hadn’t even crossed Nolan’s mind. “No. Hannah feels Molly is much too young to wed.”

“I gathered as much. And in that vein, I have a proposition for you.”

Apprehension slid down Nolan’s spine. “What sort of proposition?”

The light from the window reflected off the silver strands at Edward’s temple as he adjusted the sleeve of his navy coat. “I will offer Molly a post at Stainsby, and she may accompany us back, if”—he paused—“you agree to annul this farce of a marriage.”

A volcanic heat rushed through Nolan’s chest. He should have known the man could not be reasoned with. “Absolutely not. This conversation is over.” He started for the door.

“Wait.”

The hint of desperation in his father’s voice gave Nolan a momentary victory. He schooled his features and turned to face him.

“If you agree to come back,” Edward said slowly, “and receive the training necessary to become a proper earl’s son, I will find a position for the girl.”

“And what of my wife?” Nolan lifted his chin and held his breath. Whatever the earl said next would sway Nolan’s decision on how their relationship would go from here on out.

Edward squared his shoulders. “I would ask that you not make your marriage public until I’ve had the chance to introduce you into my social circle. It will be difficult enough to explain your existence without complicating matters with a low-born bride.”

Nolan’s nails bit into the flesh of his palms, and a growl rumbled in his throat.

Edward held up his hands, as if in surrender. “I only speak the truth.”

The air hissed from Nolan’s lungs. “How long will this training require?”

“Four weeks—maybe more—depending on how quickly you learn everything there is to know.”

“And where would Hannah and I live?”

“You may move into the suite I have provided, but I would ask that Hannah remain in the servants’ quarters for now.” The earl shrugged. “It would defeat the purpose of keeping the marriage a secret if you lived together.”

Nolan did his best to rein in his anger. He needed to keep a clear head, think logically. If he could get his father to ignore their marriage for four weeks, Edward would have time to grow accustomed to the idea. Surely then he would relent and accept Hannah as Nolan’s wife.

If not, Nolan would be in possession of the Simpson farm by then. With a means to provide for Hannah and Molly, Nolan could part ways with the earl in an amicable manner.

Yet Nolan couldn’t seem to abandon all hope that he and his father could come to a reasonable compromise.

“I need to discuss the matter with Hannah before I agree to anything.” He moved to the door. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Without waiting for a reply, he headed back to the kitchen where Hannah and a young girl sat at the table.

Hannah immediately got to her feet. “Is everything all right?” Her green eyes searched his.

He tried to smile, but his lips refused to cooperate. “This must be your sister. I’m Nolan, Hannah’s husband.”

“Hello, Nolan.” Molly giggled and glanced at Hannah. “I wouldn’t mind having to marry if Mr. Elliott looked like him.”

“Molly, hush.” Hannah’s cheeks reddened.

Nolan turned to his wife. “I’m sorry to interrupt your visit, but I need to speak to you in private for a moment.”

When Hannah nodded, he led her out the front door and down the steps onto the grass.

“What is it?” Her light brows pulled together in a frown. “Does your father know we’re married?”

“He does now. Though I think he suspected as much and that’s why he came here.” How he hated that their idyllic days together had turned sour so quickly. Nolan reached for her hand to calm his inner turmoil as much as hers. “He’s made us a proposition, which I won’t agree to unless you do too.”

Hannah blanched but lifted her chin. “Go on.”

“He wants me to undergo training in the ways of the aristocracy. In return, he will give Molly a position at the manor.”

“I see. And what about our marriage?”

Nolan paused to weigh his words. Telling Hannah that the earl had wanted their marriage annulled would only make her feel worse. “He’s asked that we keep our union a secret for now, until I’ve been introduced to his peers as his son.”

“What will that accomplish?” She seemed genuinely perplexed.

“I’m not entirely certain, but agreeing to his stipulation will buy us time. The training will take about four weeks, during which time Edward will surely grow accustomed to the idea of our marriage.” At least Nolan hoped so, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that Edward hadn’t totally given up on dissolving their union. “If having a son is so important to him, he’ll have to understand that he can’t have me without you.”

Hannah bit her bottom lip and frowned again.

He laid a hand on her shoulder. “If you don’t wish to do this, we can return to Stainsby, pack our things, and leave.” The more he thought about it, the sweeter the idea became.

“Where would we go? You don’t own the farm yet.” She waved a hand. “We certainly can’t stay here. Mr. Fielding would never allow it.”

“I’ll find a way, Hannah, if that’s what you want. Your happiness is the most important thing.”

Tears formed in her eyes. She paced away from him and stood staring out over the landscape. At last, she squared her shoulders and walked back to him. “Very well. I’m willing to accept the earl’s offer, if you are. It will get Molly away from here at least. And if things don’t go the way you hope, by then you will be in possession of your farm, and we can move there.”

“You’re sure?”

She nodded. “I can wait four weeks to resume our life together if it means saving Molly. And I can give you that time to determine if being a nobleman is the type of life you wish to live.”

A rush of relief filled Nolan’s lungs. “You are a very wise woman, Hannah Price.” He pulled her into a tight hug and kissed the top of her head. “Let’s go and break the news to Lord Stainsby. Together.”