Thirty-one

Hunter

Though dark clouds brewed ominously on my ride to Gottling Hall, the travel passed uneventfully. I suspected the greater storm brewed inside one particularly small vacant tenant house located on the grounds of the estate. Mrs. Gentry was a formidable woman and, despite advance notice, she had quite the mouthful to say the moment I arrived.

"Well about time, Lord Devon," Mrs. Gentry bellowed. "I demand answers and no one in this party can offer them. I've a mind to set off to see the duke myself."

"No, please. That is entirely unnecessary, Mrs. Gentry," I assured, holding my hands up cautiously as Lady Baxter sniffled in a corner chair, covering her face with her gloved hands. Zach only grunted as he sat upon a nearby stool nursing a glass of whatever he must've found in the small pantry.

"Mrs. Gentry, allow me speak with you privately." I led her to the kitchen. While not many people get away with speaking to a member of the peerage like this, she was more like a second mother to Josiah and me, having been part of our family for as long as I could remember. She and her husband managed this estate and its twelve tenant houses and rarely saw my father. He spent all his time at Cordon Park or in London. But both Josiah and I loved the grounds at Gottling, as did our mother.

She positioned herself before me with both arms crossed over her chest. "I will not allow immoral behavior to occur in these houses, Hunter." Because of our long-standing relationship, she was one of few in our employ that liberally used my Christian name.

"There is nothing immoral about this lady residing here," I gently countered.

"For heaven's sake why would a woman in her condition be here? She should be with her husband." She shook a finger at me. "I grew weary of Josiah bringing women here in secret, I will not allow you to go down that same path."

"Just a moment." I paused. "You know she's with child?"

"Naturally." She pointed to the different parts of her own body. "The puffy cheeks, the growing waist, the swollen bosom…"

I blanched. She never held her tongue with me. I should not have been so astonished women knew such things.

"Well, yes, you're correct, Mrs. Gentry, she is with child. She and her maid need a safe place to stay until she gives birth. By then I will have a long-standing plan in place."

She shook her head and clicked her tongue against her teeth. "I am disappointed in you, boy." With her hands flinging wildly, I feared she'd box my ears. "Why must you follow in your brother's footsteps?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You only just married, could you not find happiness with your wife?"

"Oh no, no, no." I placed my hands over hers to calm her in place. "You presume incorrectly, Mrs. Gentry."

"What do I presume?" she said sharply, as she whipped her hands away and fisted them on her wide hips.

"She is not carrying my child."

"She's not?" She huffed. "Then why all the hush hush?"

"She's carrying Josiah's."

She squealed, "Oh!" Then she quickly covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, my. Oh my."

"Yes. And my father has refused to help. But the duchess and I are in agreement. We only want to make sure she delivers the child safely and we'll find her a suitable place to live. Regardless of how this came about, the child is blood."

"Well, now, that wasn't too difficult. Why couldn't you tell me so in the missive?"

"You know why, Mrs. Gentry. Everything we do here will be misunderstood. We must keep it contained."

"Very well." She paced around the modest table, tapping her finger against her lips. After several seconds of internal contemplation, her expression revealed that she had sorted things out. "My daughter, Olivia, can come and cook, and her husband, George, can be the caretaker." She stopped and patted my cheek. "We will see this is done with the strictest of confidences, my lord." She smiled and pointed toward the sitting room. "And despite Josiah being such a rascal, I sure miss him."

"As do I," I replied.

At that precise moment, an onslaught of rain hit the thatched roof with impressive force. I knew on my approach that the skies would unleash at any moment.

"Excuse me, Hunter, I will see to preparing rooms for the women."

"My mother and I thank you, Mrs. Gentry."

Striding over to the window, I watched the rain turn to sleet. To my great disappointment, I conceded to the idea that I might not make it home as soon as I hoped. The notion of a delayed return thoroughly vexed me. I missed Gwendolyn the moment I stepped out of the house. The memory of kissing her kept my mind sharp and alert on the ride and, in truth, it's all I thought about.

Once Mrs. Gentry went to work to make the women comfortable, I made a fire using what resources we found inside the house. The previous tenants left a pile of firewood near the hearth and a bucket of coal next to the stove, but it would only be enough for the night and possibly morning. With both Zach and Mr. Gentry's help, we bundled up and gathered armfuls of wood from the outside shed amidst the now fluttering snow. Though I wore leather gloves, thick Hessians, and a nice woolen greatcoat, I could barely feel my fingers and toes once we finished.

Lady Baxter knew little to nothing about maintaining a fire, but thankfully her abigail did. She had worked as a maid-of-all-work before being employed as a lady's maid, which made leaving the two women for the night much easier. I had no intention of lingering too long at the tenant house and already risked a great deal thus far.

As the snowfall increased, Zach and I rode up to the estate house where Mr. Gentry tasked the staff to prepare two rooms for us and, thankfully, our wood supply was plentiful. Darkness fell, and the snow continued.

Relaxing in the study with a roaring fire, I ruminated over my current misfortune. If given countless guesses, I never would have supposed I would find myself at Gottling securing the needs of my dead brother's expectant mistress.

And it was just my bloody luck I'd be lounging here in this romantic setting with Zach and not my wife.

"How are you faring?" Zach asked as he poured us both a glass of port.

"I'm uncertain."

"Indeed." He sat back down and took a long sip. "It's a lot to grasp."

"I just can't fathom my father dispensing with her."

"You can't?" he said with a short laugh. "With all we know about Chilton, I'm not surprised one bit."

"Yes." I shook my head. "I suppose you're right; I simply didn't want to believe it."

"His Grace has tolerated a fair amount of distress from your brother. He probably assumed the grief would end with his death."

"But this is a child. An innocent."

"Which is the consequence of much deceit and disloyalty." Zach rubbed his chin and slid into his typical lounge position, crossing his boots at the ankles. "I'm not saying you aren't doing the right thing, but when will it end, Matthews? When the child is of age?"

I nursed my drink slowly.

"You left the continent to take up the mantle of heir, you married your brother's betrothed, and now you are seeing to his unborn child and lover? When will it be enough?"

My thoughts drifted back to Gwendolyn. She, too, had paid a price for being associated with our family. I never wanted to see her hurt again.

Then, as if Zach could read my mind, he added, "What does Gwendolyn think of this latest nightmare?"

I glanced over at him warily but said nothing.

His forehead visibly creased. "You didn't tell her?"

I inhaled through my nose, then emptied the contents of my glass.

"Good heavens, Matthews. What happens if she finds out… erroneously?" He stared at me. "What might she say then?"

I set the empty glass aside and studied the embers in the hearth. The crackling and hissing mesmerized me as the fire consumed the timber. "What was I thinking?" I ran a hand down my face. "I should have brought her with me." My head fell into my hands as I mumbled, "Could I be a bigger cork-brain?"

"I don't know the woman well," Zach said. "But I've witnessed a significant change in her since we met. I don't believe a soul in London could legitimately call her the Ice Princess ever again."

"Yes," I pursed my lips. Gwendolyn's warm disposition emerged shortly after we started that silly game of Questions or Commands. "She is remarkable." My mind went straight to our parting moments.

Zach sat up and leaned forward. Though I didn't meet his eyes, I sensed his stare upon me. "What is that look?" he asked.

The walls felt as if they were closing in around me, forcing me to disclose a secret I didn't even know I had.

He eyed me closer. "Are you in love with her?"

Love?

I held my breath and, when her image materialized in my mind, an onslaught of emotion caught in my throat. What is happening? I peered over at Zach who watched me curiously. My lips lifted on the side of my mouth into a peculiar half smile and the thought heated my chest. "I daresay I am."

"Brilliant!" Zach exclaimed as he reached out and slapped me on the shoulder. "About time you acknowledged it, mate."

"Acknowledged it?"

"I knew the moment she walked down the aisle you were besotted."

I smiled, then glimpsed the continued pelting of the snow and sleet against the window and frowned. "I've made an abysmal mistake. A colossal one."

He hummed quietly with his lips on the brim of his glass. "You should have told her."

I nodded and prayed that, through some sort of miracle, my mistake would not be irreversible.

"I only say this from my own foolishness." Zach stood up and poured another drink. "Too many people get hurt when the truth is shuffled beneath a rug to wait and be discovered at a later hour."

Now I knew he no longer spoke of me and Gwendolyn. "Out with it, Collins."

He reclaimed his seat and, this time, he stared hypnotically at the fire as it lapped upward behind the grate. "I saw Evie."

I sat forward with a jerk. "When? Where?"

"She visited Vauxhall with her mother and sister."

"And her husband?" I inquired.

"No. Still in the Indies."

"He truly is away that often?"

Zach nodded as he rubbed the recent growth on his chin. He preferred a rustic appearance as of late.

"Did you speak with her?"

He nodded again, then set his drink aside. Sitting forward, he rubbed the back of his neck. "I nearly kissed her."

"Pardon?"

"She's a married woman, so when her mother and sister walked in a separate direction we were left alone."

"And you thought that wouldn't be temptation enough?"

He groaned. "Of course, I knew, but it's Evie; I can't count high enough how many times we've been alone together."

"Yes, but how many times since you realized you love her?" I queried.

He emptied the contents of his glass in one very drawn-out swallow. "I wanted to speak frankly with her. We'd danced around the truth for far too long."

"Tell me."

He sat back and grumbled, "Everything about her lulled me into some hypnotic trance. Her smile, the curve of her neck, the small freckle I used to tease her about below her right eye, her lips." Zach wiped a layer of sweat off his forehead. "Deuce, Luke. When she spoke, it took everything I had to keep myself from taking her in my arms and kissing her soundly."

"Thank goodness you didn't, man."

"I know, I know, it just took me back to when I was happiest, and it was always when I spent time with Evie. Now she's married, unhappily I'm sure of it, and I can't do a damn thing about it."

" Shouldn't , that's for certain," I retorted. "Why again did she rush to marry?"

"Her father's poor planning upon his death." Zach poured his third drink. "Apparently, the will did not account for his wife and daughters."

"And you didn't know?"

"She didn't either. But what doesn't make sense is why did this man, Sir Colin Turner, take her to wife only to leave her? Why would anyone leave a woman as beautiful and extraordinary as she, alone?"

"She didn't tell you?"

"She only said that the arrangement suited them both. "Suited, Matthews. That has to be the worst way to look at marriage. Suitability."

"It's the way of our world," I said, thinking of my own circumstances. Fortunately, I had recently discovered I truly liked my wife—loved in fact—and this newest acknowledgment had awakened my senses. "It's forced upon us, Zach. Truly, the only thing preventing you from being at the center of the marriage mart at this moment is that your brother still lives. As the heir apparent for the earldom, and quite unattached, he has prevented you from having to look for a suitable wife yourself." I chuckled. "Now, you get to look for one you might actually be fond of."

He snorted, then chuckled. "You're right, I should shed myself of this regret and carry on. Or maybe I should return to His Majesty's service."

"You would return?"

"Either that or resume my search for Jaxon. Both you and Luke are married now, you have obligations, proper ones, and I am merely a distraction."

I leaned forward in my chair. "Zach, you have been there for me more times than I can count. What might I do for you?"

He shrugged. "Regarding a wife, nothing. But concerning Jaxon?" He thought for several seconds. "Send me all your notes, I will pour over them once more and see if we missed anything. It's a worthy cause to occupy my mind."

"Anything for you, mate."