Authors: Cheryl Ann Smith
“Uncle Arthur was killed over money?” Simon couldn’t believe this was happening. “Arthur was known for being tightfisted. But to be killed over such a thing is a tragedy….” He let his voice trail off. How do you put into words the absurdity of the situation without sounding callous?
“If it is any comfort, the perpetrator was hanged by the British Army,” Father said. “They don’t take kindly to the death of a peer.”
Simon leaned his head back against the chair. The implications of all this were unbelievable. His father was now Lord Seymour. Mother was a countess. Simon was now a titled viscount. Brenna was Lady Brenna. The wealth, the properties, everything held by Arthur was now Father’s.
He looked over at his sister. Her red eyes stared back
at him. They’d lost an uncle they never really knew, and their world had changed drastically because of one senseless act.
“Has anyone informed Noelle?” Brenna asked.
“She and her mother have been notified,” Father said and walked to the window. Of everyone in the room, he seemed the most disheartened by the news. He’d lost his only remaining brother—first Noelle’s father and now Arthur.
“Perhaps you should give us a moment,” Mother whispered to her children. Her beautiful face was filled with sadness as she walked to her husband. She slipped her hand into his and leaned against his shoulder.
Simon and Brenna left them. Once in the hallway, they faced each other. “I can’t believe Uncle Arthur is dead,” Brenna said softly. “He was always the missing earl. I was an infant when he left. Now he is gone forever.”
“I should do something for Father.” Simon rubbed his jaw. The shock of the news still lingered. “I’ll contact Gabriel. He should be with us.”
“Do you know where our brother is currently?” Brenna asked.
“The last I heard, Spain.” Time was long past for their wayward brother to return. It had been four years since he left to find adventure.
The weight of Simon’s new responsibility was staggering. He wasn’t certain of his new position, nor could he fathom what all this would mean, for himself or Laura. Becoming a viscount had always been a distant consideration. In a matter of minutes, his life had changed. “Has anyone made arrangements to get Arthur home?”
“The army has taken care of it.” Brenna pressed her clasped hands to her mouth. “We will be notified when he arrives in London.” Weeping sounded from above. “I should go to Bernie. She has lost her brother.”
Brenna went upstairs. Simon felt adrift. He looked up to the second floor and knew he should see to Laura. During the melee, she’d slipped away.
Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to seek her out.
There were preparations to be made and he needed to make certain his father’s other sister, Aunt Clara, had been notified of the death. Arthur was her brother, too. His family needed him now, more than Laura did.
With shoulders slumped, he headed toward the library. He really needed a drink.
L
aura packed her things and left the house with her valise clutched tightly against her chest. She hailed a hackney at the end of the street and gave him directions to the school.
She pressed her face into her hands. Her heart ached for Simon’s family. They’d suffered a great loss. Aunt Bernie was devastated. Laura had sat with her until Simon’s sister arrived, then removed herself to pack. She had no place in the household. Not really. It was best she return to the school and leave the Harringtons to grieve privately.
Miss Eva was sipping tea when she arrived. The few remaining courtesans were absent. The house was quiet.
“Simon has sent you back?” Eva asked. She slid her skirts aside so Laura could join her on the settee.
Laura shook her head. “I thought it best if I left. The household is in turmoil. His family is in mourning. He doesn’t need questions about me to add to his troubles.” Eva poured her tea. She accepted the cup and added some sugar. “I wish I could help him.”
Miss Eva nodded. “It is an unusual situation. Arthur has been away so long, he was almost a phantom to his family. Now he’s gone. There are some big changes coming.”
“There are,” Laura agreed sadly.
The duchess glanced sidelong at her. “This changes things for you, too.” She refreshed her tea. “I know Simon cares for you, but he is a viscount now. With what little I know about Simon, I suspect he is already feeling torn between the title—and you. Has he made you any promises?”
“No.” Laura swallowed deeply. She wondered how much
she should share with Miss Eva. The burden proved too heavy and she explained their earlier conversation. “He left open the possibility of marriage, yet I knew it would never come to fruition. He spoke out of desire, not practicality. We are too far apart in circumstance—now more so than ever. Once he has a chance to see things clearly, he will see that I am right. We are not meant to be together.”
The duchess sent her a knowing stare. “I would not be so sure about his intentions. Yes, he is currently in turmoil. However, the Harrington family is not like other members of the Ton. If he wants you, he will have you, in spite of his new title.”
Laura frowned. “With time, he’ll see reason.”
Miss Eva smiled. “Have you ever known a reasonable man when he thinks he is in love?”
“Simon doesn’t love me,” Laura protested.
“Give him time. He will.”
This conversation wasn’t as comforting as she’d hoped. She’d thought perhaps the duchess would impart some wisdom about how to discourage Simon. Instead, she seemed to encourage the relationship.
“You don’t understand,” Laura said firmly. “He is a viscount now. He needs his Lady Jeanette.”
“And a duke needed a wife with a perfect pedigree,” Miss Eva said lightly. “Sometimes life doesn’t work out as planned.”
An hour later, Laura went to her room, somewhat comforted by Miss Eva’s story of how a courtesan’s daughter found love with her duke. Yet Laura was still locked in the muddle that was her life.
She grew weary of uncertainty. She was being stalked by a man who could be a killer. She was living in a courtesan school. She had very little money, two pistols, and an ugly elephant statue. And she was in love with a man who clearly had a knight-in-armor affection for his rescued damsel.
All she could hope for now was that the death of his uncle would make him see her, and his own world, more clearly.
S
imon paced. The town house had become a prison. Harringtons were arriving daily from far afield and the staff was harried. While trying to ease the burden borne by his parents, the servants relied heavily on his guidance, and the pressure to prove his worth was intense. He bore the weight of his inadequacies with rising frustration. “Three days since Arthur’s death and I’m already feeling chains hanging around my neck.”
Brenna sat in a chair, watching him. “Father has asked nothing of you. He knows you need time to adjust to your new role as earl-in-waiting.”
The censure in her voice brought him upright. He turned to see her scowling at him. He replayed the last few days and realized she was right. Father had taken the full responsibility of everything on his own shoulders. Aside from sending out a missive to the last known address for Gabriel and directing the staff, he’d done very little.
“This is a shock for all of us and I’m only thinking about myself,” he grumbled unhappily. “I thought I had years before I became next in line. We all hoped that Arthur would return to reclaim his position and live a long life.”
“Think of how Father feels,” Brenna said tightly. “He has lost his two brothers. He never suspected he’d ever lose them both.” She tapped her fingers on the chair arms. “Truthfully, I believe you are more worried about losing your mysterious woman than becoming viscount.”
After a brief pause, she continued, “I do find her disappearance odd. She should be eager to lift herself from companion to viscountess.”
Simon stopped pacing. He glared. “You know nothing of Laura. She asks nothing of me.”
Brenna stood. “I know you placed her as Aunt Bernie’s companion and attended several parties with her in tow. You think we didn’t hear the rumors? Then we return home and she vanishes. If you expect us to understand what’s happening, you could explain yourself.”
He raked his hands through his hair. “It is not the time or place for this. There may never be the right time.”
Their last moments together played in his mind. Laura assured him marrying Lady Jeanette was his future. He’d refused to consider the notion. Sadly, with his uncle’s death, Laura may have been right. Choosing a viscountess was a task not to be entered into lightly.
Without waiting for Brenna to press him further, he walked out of the library.
Laura was gone, his aunt couldn’t stop crying, and his father had disappeared into his study with Noelle’s mother, estate managers, secretaries, and whoever else might help figure out the jumble of disorganization that was Uncle Arthur’s life. Brenna had been wandering London, likely in search of a pirate to father her child, and Mother felt responsible for them all.
The only thing he did know was that Laura was safe for the moment. The school was well guarded. Still, he worried. The only way he’d be confident she was fully protected was if she was with him. Hell, as distracted as he was, not even that was certain. She was best left to the paid guards. For now.
He’d suffered through three days of a headache. Noelle’s mother was a harridan who’d somehow taken control over parts of Arthur’s life. The rest had fallen to bankers and stewards and Father. Unfortunately, Father hadn’t paid the attention he should have to the estate after their oldest brother, Noelle and Eva’s father, had died. Arthur had inherited, and as the youngest son, Walter was left to make his own fortune from an inheritance and prudent investments.
Now the whole estate was in disarray, and it would take months to pull it into some semblance of order.
Since the moment they’d received the grim news, the household had been overwhelmed. Simon was overwhelmed. He needed a moment to breathe. He called for Horse and turned him toward the courtesan school.
Neither Sophie nor Eva protested his arrival, as the former
led him through the house to the garden. Laura sat in a chair beneath a tree, a book open in her lap, looking devastatingly beautiful in the mottled sunshine.
His heart skipped. Lud, how he’d missed her!
With his attention drawn to her, he barely noted the guard loitering by the back gate as Laura looked up from her reading.
“I had to come,” he said awkwardly. She placed the book on the table and rose. Without a word, she slipped into his arms and laid her head on his chest. He lowered his face to her hair and inhaled her sweet scent.
“How is your family?” she asked softly.
“We have fared better.” He kissed her head. The headache that had plagued him faded. “I wish you hadn’t left.”
“I had to.” She lifted her face. “Your parents didn’t need a stranger in their home while they were dealing with their grief. And how would you have explained me?”
He smiled grimly. “Your leaving didn’t silence the questions. They know you were Aunt Bernie’s companion, but nothing more. But you’re correct. Mother and Father will wait to press the issue of you until after the chaos has settled.”
The wind fluttered through the garden, and birds chattered overhead. After days of sober silence and tears, the small space was a welcome respite.
“Is Aunt Bernie well?” Laura eased from his arms and reclaimed her seat. Simon joined her in an open chair.
“As well as she can be. She was closest to Arthur. I believe she hoped one day he’d surprise her and come home. Now she will never see him again.”
Laura’s eyes clouded. “I am sorry for her loss.”
“I will tell her.” Aunt Bernie had asked after her. Simon told his aunt that Laura was called away on a family matter.
During the short time they’d been together, Bernie had developed a fondness for Laura, even insisting she call her “Aunt Bernie” as the family did. And his aunt had not once indulged in sherry while under Laura’s care. That was an added benefit of placing Laura as her companion.
“His Grace spoke to Crawford last evening. The investigator met with a former footman who knew where Henry was staying before the murder. Crawford went to the inn and missed him by a day. He has vanished again. Fortunately, Crawford has new information as to where Henry might be hiding.”
“Surely we can worry about this later,” Laura said and took his hand. He rubbed her soft skin with his thumb.
“I need to keep my mind occupied. My father currently refuses my assistance and my mother is caring for relatives who are arriving from all corners of England.” He grimaced. “I cannot go back.”
L
aura sympathized. “I’ve never had more than my parents. I can only imagine how overwhelming so many family members in one town house can be.” In spite of his grumbling about his large family, she envied him. She’d longed for siblings while growing up—sisters to share confidences, brothers to frighten off unsuitable suitors, and cousins to come and fill their small house on holidays.
A pang of longing tugged at her heart.