Chapter Four

T he baroness and her siblings returned to Felton Manor that evening, leaving Gavin alone to inspect and explore Kingston House in uninterrupted silence. It was just as well, as he was adjusting to the idea of being married.

Married . What a preposterous thing his uncle had done.

While he hadn't been exceptionally pleased with the idea of marriage at first, against his will as it so happened, there was something intriguing about it. Gavin had rarely even considered the idea of marriage before, but now he approached it as if it were some rare specimen.

Once during a voyage down the eastern coast of the Southern Americas, Gavin had encountered a naturalist, Dr. Herman Pike, who was in search of new flora and fauna to study. He had been a calm, if rather dull older gentleman, until he began to speak about his passion on plants. Gavin had assisted him during an exhibition and found similarities between himself and the doctor, particularly how they met with surprises. He was approaching this marriage much the way Dr. Pike approached a new plant. It wasn't exactly frightening, and it certainly didn't make him upset, but more curious than anything else.

Uncle John apparently had very little faith in him to fulfill his promises to Holly and her family. Well, they'd see about that, he thought as he climbed the wooden staircase within Kingston House.

Contemplative, he toured the second-floor gallery. The portraits of family members long since dead stared down at him as he pondered about the wife he had been bequeathed. Gavin knew it wasn't right to think of her in such a way, but he could hardly deny it. He had inherited her just as much as he had inherited Kingston House and while a small, inconsequential part of him seemed quite taken with the idea, he needed to remember that it was an outrageous scenario.

Holly Smyth didn't belong to him, and he didn't belong to anyone. Gavin had always been deliberately untethered. Certain of his own uncertainty and aware that the only thing that seemed to be guaranteed in life was being alone, which he hadn't ever considered a bad thing. It simply was what it was.

Still, it gave him a perverse, if surprising amount of pleasure to pretend that Holly could belong to him, even if only for a little while.

Pushing the obstinate thoughts from his mind, he returned his attention to Kingston House. It was a stylish home, well-kept and remarkably tasteful for a man known throughout London society as an eccentric. Uncle John had been a dandy in his younger days, but it seemed that his love for overtly furnished rooms and large, colorful pieces hadn't spilled over into his country estate. Gavin knew that the London home was ostentatiously covered in gold-pressed wallpaper, tulipwood furnishings, and crimson velvet fabrics. From the window drapes to the ornate carpets, the furnishings at Bairnsdale Terrace were dripping with intricate designs, clashing colors, and tastelessly expensive styles. Gavin had only been there once, but when he visited, it had felt like he had fallen into a pirate's chest.

Kingston House wasn't nearly as gauche. The walls were surprisingly simple, painted with various pastel shades and decorated with tasteful paintings, mostly depicting men and women in country settings. It was strange that a man could have such contradictory tastes. But then that might explain Holly.

Patience would eventually reveal Holly's true nature. She didn't initially appear to be some sort of conniving social climber, eager to take all she could from a dying man, yet she wasn't a meek country miss, haplessly going about life either. She seemed to fall somewhere in between, logical enough to understand her dire situation but genuine enough not to want to take advantage of a friend.

She was a bit of a conundrum, and he was baffled that someone so seemingly reasonable and attractive should still be unwed. Well, not any longer—but it made him wonder why no other nearby man had proposed to her. Perhaps the burden of her family had scared off other suitors. Though with her rational mind, striking blue eyes, and oddly soothing velvet voice, Gavin was confused as to why anyone wouldn't be willing to pay a king's ransom to be with her. But maybe the situation at Felton Manor was more calamitous than she let on. Either way, he wished to inspect the house she currently resided in and headed out to do so the very next day.

Gavin knew she had been lying about the state of Felton Manor, but he was still surprised at what he found as his horse came over the crest of the hill, some five miles north from Kingston House. To his horror, a massive oak tree was leaning against the large, square, grey stone house. Though it was spring, the leaves on the fallen tree were brown and still clinging to the branches, giving Gavin the impression that it had been at least six months since the tree had come down and yet it hadn't been removed.

What in the hell was going on?

Why hadn't Holly had it taken down? Had his uncle known about this? She hadn't spent the winter here, living in such conditions, had she? The image of her huddled next to a fire suddenly flashed in his mind and unnerved him. Not just because Holly was now under his protection, but as a decent human being. Why hadn't she sought out any help?

Climbing off his horse, Gavin stalked across the gravel drive towards the front door and knocked rapidly. When no one opened the door, he tried again. He was contemplating shouldering the door open by force when it finally opened, revealing a wide-eyed Miss Katrina.

"Lord Bairnsdale," she said, curtsying slightly behind the partially open wooden door. "Um, uh… Can I help you?"

"May I come in?"

She peered over her shoulder, seemingly unwilling to let him enter.

"Well, you see, Holly—my sister, that is—um… I don't think…"

"It's quite alright," Gavin said, dropping his voice. "Holly is expecting me."

Katrina bit her lip, seemingly surprised by his use of her sister's Christian name. Nodding slowly, she stepped back, opening the door for him to enter.

The foyer was sizeable for a country farmhouse, and though it wasn't nearly as grand as Kingston House, Gavin instantly saw the attraction to this place. Stacks of books lined the hall, leading one to assume this was a house where reading was encouraged. The walls were adorned with dozens of oval portraits of family members, and though it was drafty, Gavin felt that a tremendous amount of heart had lived within these walls throughout the years. He was sure it was why Holly seemed so set on keeping it, even thought it was very clear that the house was in dire need of extensive repairs—and not solely to the roof.

Dry rot was eating away at the bottom corners of the paneled walls and the first-floor ceilings seemed to be bowed. It would take a considerable amount to fix even the most obvious issues. Not to mention the not so obvious ones. Gavin wondered if selling it would be the best move, before the entire place fell down around them. Or perhaps he could tear it down and rebuild it? Gavin began considering numbers when he heard a heated exchange of words drifting out from what he assumed was the dining room as he followed Miss Katrina deeper into the house.

"—I need a hundred quid to pay a mate of mine in school."

"We don't have a hundred quid, Jasper. And have you lost your mind, asking me for such an exorbitant amount of money?"

"We just inherited a third of Kingston House, didn't we?"

Gavin's jaw set, unimpressed with the youth's vulgarity. He seemed oblivious to the situation he and his sisters were in.

"No, and had you listened to me the first two times I explained it, you would understand that we haven't inherited anything. Which puts all of us in a precarious situation."

The young man sighed loudly.

"The house is falling apart! Just sell the heap of junk already. It's not worth fixing. Besides, I've an opportunity to join Clemet Club—as a lifetime member, mind you—if only I can settle my debts."

"I will do no such thing. And what in the world is the Clemet Club?"

Gavin knew. The Clemet Club maintained itself to be a gentlemen's club, but no gentleman in London would claim that nowadays. At one point it had been a place that catered to men of the peerage, but time had changed it. Now it was little more than a building that admitted anyone, should they be able to afford the outrageous buy ins. A man named Joseph Kilmann operated it, and he was just as ruthless as his name suggested.

"It's a place where likeminded gentlemen go to discuss business and politics and the like."

Holly paused.

"Are you seriously trying to sell me on a gentleman's club? When we are drowning in debt?" She scoffed. "Absolutely not, Jasper."

"Fine, have it your way," Jasper bit out. "I'll just carry my debts until I can sell the place myself."

He stalked off, bumping into Gavin's shoulder as he did. Gavin's hands came up and steadied the young man, whose brow was furrowed with bitter anger over what he clearly perceived as dire injustices. Wrenching out of his grasp, he continued down the hallway, out the front door.

"Lord Bairnsdale?" Holly's voice carried in over Gavin's shoulder.

Turning back towards her, he stepped into the dining room but stalled when his eyes fell on her. Holly was dressed in a simple, unadorned dark-blue muslin gown. The neck scooped low, and the sleeves were sheer, though Holly was wrapped in a dark green shawl. He hadn't expected to see her in such a rich color, and how he stared at her must have alerted her because she bent her head down, almost embarrassed.

"I didn't expect to see anyone today," she said, motioning towards her gown with her hands. "I had all my gowns dyed black when John passed away, but this one didn't take. It became a grey color and I had the bright idea to cover it with blue, but… well…" She shook her head. "What are you doing here?"

Gavin swallowed, remembering why he was there.

"I came to inspect your house."

"I told you there was no need."

"Yes, except that obviously wasn't true given that there's an oak tree on it," he said, remembering his anger when he first saw it. "Why haven't you had anyone take down?"

Holly's mouth tightened as if the undeniable statement irked her.

"People require payment, my lord."

"Gavin."

Her eyes squinted.

"There's no need for such informalities."

"It won't scandalize me, I assure you," he said. "And since you and your siblings will be staying at Kingston House for the foreseeable future—"

"Excuse me?" she said, walking around the small dining room table. "We are not moving to Kingston House."

"Oh yes, you are."

"No, we are not."

"How long has that thing been on this house? Six months? It's a wonder you haven't frozen to death."

"We've fared very well, thank you very much, and it is not so cold—"

"Where are your servants?" he asked, his temper rising once more, looking around. While tidy at first glance, the house showed clear signs that it was overdue for the kind of deep, thorough cleaning he wouldn't think Holly and her sister could manage on their own. "Where are your footmen? Or maids?" He turned back to face her, and Holly's cheeks turned pink as her mouth set in a hard line. "Tell me you have at least a cook?"

"It is not your concern."

Gavin remained still, trying hard to reel in his temper. It didn't make sense that her stubborn refusal should annoy him so much, but he couldn't stop himself. His concern for her shouldn't be so great after only meeting once before, but he felt deeply that he was responsible for her. And whether it was because of his uncle's lack of faith in him or because they were technically married, he knew with absolute certainty that her concerns were now his. This woman was reliant on him, whether she wanted to be or not, and he would not fail her.

Aside from his aunt, no one had ever relied on Gavin, and though he had always been sure that it would be burdensome, he found that instead, he felt necessary. Almost needed. It was somewhat unnerving, but also satisfying.

What an odd sensation to be depended on. But he pushed the thought from his mind, deciding to decipher it at a later time. For now, he needed to focus on the matter at hand, which was convincing her that she couldn't possibly remain in this house a day longer. He leveled her a stern stare.

"You're not staying here."

"I said it is of no concern of yours, and might I remind you—"

"Oh, please, Holly," the timid voice of Katrina came from the doorway. Both Gavin and Holly turned to face her. "It would be very nice not having to wake every hour to make sure the fires are still lit."

How had Holly and her sister maintained this large house without any assistance? He faced Holly once more and the shame that crossed her face made him uncomfortable, but his anger at the situation suddenly subsided. He could bully her into coming to Kingston House, but there was something sensitive in her eyes, something akin to embarrassment. Gavin didn't want to add insult to injury and he resolved to handle her and the situation with a more delicate touch.

"Katrina—" Holly started, but Gavin cut in.

"Please tell me this much," he said, his tone gentler than it had been. Holly watched him, startled by his sudden plea. "Was Uncle John aware of this tree situation?"

Her mouth moved, seemingly unsure how to answer, and it surprised Gavin how interesting he found it. He waited for her to answer.

"Not exactly," she said slowly. "He knew a branch had come through one of the upstairs windows. But I didn't want to worry him."

"He never came to visit?"

"John took ill around the same time as the tree fell and was bedridden from that point on. His health began to deteriorate rapidly over the winter. He never left Kingston House again."

"Hmm, I see. And would he have been worried had he known the truth?"

"Yes, of course."

"Then as a favor, to honor his memory, can't you let me house you and your siblings, until it is repaired?"

Her face scrunched up suddenly as if she were trying to stop herself from crying.

"We aren't feeble, incapable people. It's just that bad luck seems to catch us at every turn."

He nodded, knowing it was rarely easy for people to ask for help. Still, she hadn't asked. In fact, she had refused all his offers. He admired resilience, but this felt like it was edging into stubbornness, particularly since the house seemed in such poor condition as to put her health and safety at risk.

"I would greatly appreciate the opportunity to prove my uncle wrong," he said, taking a single step forward. Their eyes met. "He didn't think I was capable of honoring his wishes. If I could be allowed to demonstrate my true character while also seeing to the comfort of his closest friend, I would like to do so. Please. I would view it as a personal favor."

Holly stared at him, and he could see her resolve to break.

"It would only be temporary, until the tree can be removed and the roof repaired. Though how I'm to find the money to pay someone…"

"I'll cover the cost," Gavin said. When she seemed on the verge of protesting yet again, he added, "As a loan."

"A…a loan?" she repeated. He nodded. She took a moment to think this over, and then sighed in resignation. "Very well, then. A loan. One that my family will pay back immediately upon turning this farm back into a profitable one. I promise."

"We'll have Mr. Armstrong draw up papers if you like."

"Yes."

"Then you will come to Kingston House?"

She gave him a stiff nod.

"Oh, thank goodness," Katrina said, taking off like a shot down the hallway before suddenly reappearing. "May we leave now?"

"Er, I suppose," Holly said, and her sister disappeared again. Now alone, she crossed her arms, less a belligerent pose than a defensive one, as if she was covering and protecting her heart. "I hope you don't think I'm ungrateful. It's just that I've been the sole protector of this house and my family for several years now, and every time someone has offered to help, it has come with a price."

He frowned, curious. He didn't like the sound of that, but it resonated with him. He himself did not like to ask for help, simply because he had learned at a young age that he could never rely on anyone else.

"How so?"

Holly let out a humorless huff of breath.

"If it isn't the local gentry trying to get me to sell off our lands, it's someone else paying only half price for our livestock." Her gaze fell to the floor. "I was never taught how to run a profitable farm. I had to learn all my mistakes on my own. Turn after turn, it seems I can never manage to get ahead." She sighed, her eyes lifting to meet his. "Ever decision I make always turns out to be the wrong one."

Gavin was surprised that she would confess something so personal.

"Surely not every decision?"

Holly shrugged.

"Nearly. It was my idea to pay off our family debts as soon as possible. To do so, I had to sell half our livestock to our neighbor, Mr. Granger. He promised to sell them back to me once I could turn a profit with what we had, but I never could, and he eventually had to sell them. Then a harsh winter followed by a wet summer drove our wheat to rot, and I had to sell off the rest of our stock to get by. The house has been falling apart for ages and every chance I have to better our situation…" she said quickly, the words tumbling out as if she had been holding them in for years and was relieved to finally have them released. "Well… it never works."

Holly shook her head, looking embarrassed that she'd spoken so frankly.

"I beg your pardon. I shouldn't have bored you with such personal issues." She forced a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I won't make you wait long. We will be ready to leave in a few minutes. Excuse me," she said, moving past him, but Gavin's hand came up as she reached him, and he gently placed his fingers on her forearm.

She froze, and for a moment, so did he. A shot of electricity seemed to zap between them, and just as quickly as he had reached for her, he dropped his hand. It was a moment before he spoke.

"Bad luck isn't something you should blame yourself for," he said, his tone low.

She nodded jerkily and disappeared into the hallway, leaving Gavin alone. Moving his thumb over the pads of his fingers, he wondered if she had felt that strange galvanic current, too.