Chapter Fifteen

"I have something to tell you." Rachel came downstairs shortly before dinner, wearing a cream gown, with her formerly disheveled hair now tamed and braided into a regal coronet.

Harry was surprised at the transformation of the naked hoyden into the elegant lady. "Are you sure you want to tell me your secrets, Rachel?"

"Oh, it's not a secret. It's a story I thought of for my next book."

Harry hid her amusement. "Ireland must have inspired you."

"Well, I'm thinking of setting it in the Scottish Highlands. It's a wild, rugged, romantic story, about a titled married lady who falls deeply in love with a young artist. They become lovers, and they have a child together. I shall call it The Love Child ."

Harry went still. Good God, she's talking about my grandmother Georgina, Duchess of Bedford. Her heroine's lover is Edwin Landseer, and their love child is Rachel. She licked her lips, which had suddenly gone dry, and made a suggestion. "Couldn't you write it without actually revealing who the father is? It could have an air of romantic mystery if you let the reader decide if the child was her husband's or her lover's."

"That could be rather titillating. The important thing is to write the story of a lady who makes the decision to take a lover. I want to make it wild and sensual. I intend to make it the most romantic story I've ever written."

Rachel is so enraptured over having a lover that she cannot wait to tell the world about how it feels to have a delicious, secret affair.

Lady Abercorn came downstairs with Lord Butler, who had also miraculously transformed himself into a respectable gentleman. He politely offered his arm to Rachel, and everyone went in to dinner.

"When did this happen?" Lord Butler demanded as he read the urgent letter from his brother's wife, Frances, Marchioness of Ormonde.

"Three days back, sor," the messenger from Kilkenny Castle replied. "I rode as swiftly as I could, m'lord."

"Whatever is amiss, James?" Rachel asked as she saw the look of grave apprehension on her lover's face.

"My brother John has had a riding accident. He is in a coma. Frances asks that I return immediately."

Rachel turned pale. "I'm so sorry, James. You must go home without delay. I hope John is recovered by the time you get there."

"Harry, take the messenger to the kitchen, and I'll have Mrs. Kennedy plenish a room for him. You cannot set out until morning, James," the duchess advised their guest.

Harry led the man to the kitchen and poured him a mug of ale as Mrs. Pithers made up a plate of food for him. Before he finished his ale, Butler arrived.

"Mick, this letter tells me next to nothing. You saw John after his accident. He will recover, won't he?"

Mick glanced at Harry. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm afraid I have me doubts, yer lordship." He shook his head gravely. "Doctor says Lord John fractured his skull, an' not likely to come out of his torpor. Lady Ormonde is beside herself."

James looked at Harry. "I need to talk with Rachel."

She accompanied him back to the great hall. "Rachel, why don't you take James upstairs? He needs to talk to you in private."

Lord Butler paced across Rachel's suite. "I spoke with the messenger and he holds out little hope that my brother will survive. Since John's eldest son is only ten years old, I will have to take on the responsibility of running Kilkenny if my brother doesn't survive."

"James, I hope you don't have to suffer such a tragic loss, but your family could have none more capable of taking charge."

James took her hands and bent to kiss her brow. "Rachel, I want you to be my wife."

Rachel smiled up at him. "And I want you to be my husband."

James bit his lip. "If John does die, I'll have to observe a mourning period before I can marry."

"Darling, I understand perfectly."

"No, you don't understand. What I mean is that we should marry while he still lives. I want you to marry me tonight, so that you can come with me tomorrow."

Rachel caught her breath. "If Abercorn can arrange it, of course I will marry you tonight."

He held up his hand. "Before you make your decision, I want you to know what you're getting into, my love. John is only forty-six years old. He has seven young children who I will have to father if, God forbid, he doesn't survive."

Rachel stood on her toes to kiss him. "I don't mind sharing you, James. You have enough love to go around."

"You are very generous, Rachel. That's why I love you so much."

"Come, let's go and tell the family, and ask Abercorn to help us."

While Abercorn went into Omagh to get the priest from St. Peter and Paul's Church, Harry helped Rachel to pack. "In spite of the dreadful circumstances, I'm glad you are getting married tonight."

"James didn't want to wait. If his brother dies, he'd have to observe a long mourning period. It's strange how things we have no control over can change the course of our lives in an instant."

Harry thought about how her life had changed the day she found Trixy and D'Arcy together. "Perhaps the universe has a plan for us. Man proposes; God disposes."

"The Marquis of Ormonde is only forty-six, and his oldest child is only ten. If John dies, James will be head of the family, and will have the running of Kilkenny Castle. His responsibilities will increase tenfold."

"I warrant it is fate that the two of you fell in love. James will need the help and comfort of a wife. You will bring him much happiness, Rachel."

The entire staff of Barons Court gathered with the family in the great hall to witness the hastily arranged marriage between Lady Rachel Evelyn Russell and Lord James Wandesford Butler. Abercorn had brought the priest from Omagh, and stood ready to give the bride away.

The wild Irish roses quickly gathered for the bride's bouquet filled the air with their heady fragrance, and Harry knew that from now on she would always associate the scent with weddings. As the priest intoned the solemnization of marriage, Harry's imagination took flight. There is a superstition that weddings come in threes.

When James and Rachel were pronounced man and wife, the groom kissed the bride, and Lady Lu directed a footman to bring champagne. The family and the servants drank a toast to the newlyweds and wished them a long, happy, and fruitful marriage.

"James, if you would like me to travel back to Kilkenny with you, I am at your service," Abercorn declared.

"Thank you for your kind offer, but I don't believe it will be necessary to disrupt you. Your time at Barons Court is limited this year. I'll apprise you of John's condition when we get to Kilkenny." He slipped his arm about his bride. "I truly appreciate your making it possible for Rachel and me to exchange our wedding vows on such short notice."

"On our return journey, I think we should go by way of Kilkenny," Louisa suggested. "Couldn't we sail back to England from the coast near Waterford?" she asked her husband.

"That's an excellent idea. I'll have my captain take his ship and anchor it in Waterford Bay, and then we can sail across to Bristol. From there, it will only take one day's coach ride to London."

I won't be able to visit Shugborough on our way back. Harry felt a pang of regret. Still, Thomas won't be there. By September, he'll be back in London.

Harry hung back until the newlyweds retired and then she climbed the stairs with Jane.

"That's the second rushed wedding," Jane murmured. "When I marry, I want to be formally betrothed, receive a ring, and have an engagement party. I want a beautiful gown, lots of bridesmaids, and a reception with a towering wedding cake. If I were Rachel, I would feel cheated."

"I can assure you Rachel doesn't feel cheated. She feels blessed that she has found a husband who loves and adores her. When all is said and done, that's the only thing that truly matters." She kissed her sister's cheek. "Good night, Jane. Sweet dreams."

Harry lay awake for a long time as she thought about the day's surprising events.

I'm so relieved that James asked Rachel to marry him. Once they became lovers, there was no guarantee that he would make her Lady Butler. His brother's accident spurred him to propose because he didn't want to leave her behind. I think Rachel was so taken with the romantic idea of becoming his mistress that she threw caution to the wind.

A full-blown picture of Rachel and James making love in the grass came into Harry's mind. I know it wasn't their first time because Rachel felt no pain—only pleasure. Harry could see Rachel's legs wrapped around her lover's body. She knew exactly what to do.

The encounter Harry had witnessed had taken some of the mystery out of the physical act that took place between a man and a woman, though certainly not all of it. She hadn't the faintest idea what it felt like. She could only imagine such passionate joy.

As she drifted off to sleep, the fragrance of flowers stole to her. That's not wild rose—that's the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle, she thought as her dream began.

Harry was swimming in the lake. She had transformed into a black otter, and a sleek, dark male began to chase her. To avoid him, or perhaps to lure him on, she dived deep, knowing he would follow. Not only did he catch up with her; he swam in circles and fancy patterns around her. He came so close that their bodies brushed against each other in what could be only a mating dance. His insistent male attention stirred her senses and called to the wild spirit that lay hidden deep within her. Her resistance to him gradually melted away and was replaced with an instinctive hunger for a soul mate.

When the male otter climbed from the water, he waited silently, hoping she would follow wherever he led. After an initial hesitation, she gathered her courage and emerged from the lake. He moved off into the long, green grass. Unable to resist his dark, dominant allure, she followed him.

He stretched his sleek body in the grass and she lay down beside him, admiring his male beauty. She felt the primal heat of arousal in her belly and rolled playfully onto her back, yielding to his dominance in feminine submission.

Slowly, she was transformed into a woman, and in the grass beside her lay dark and dominant Thomas Anson. The electricity between them was palpable. His animal magnetism was irresistible to Harry. She caught her breath as his fingers trailed across her cheek. She moved against him in invitation. She thrilled when his muscular arm swept about her, and when his mouth took possession of hers, she opened her lips. She gave in to temptation and threaded her fingers into his thick black curls. The heady fragrance of jasmine and honeysuckle saturated her senses.

Her dream changed once more. Suddenly before her eyes, Thomas was transformed into a magnificent black centaur. His glittering silver eyes flashed, demanding that she follow him into the forest. She was filled with an age-old knowledge that the adventure that awaited her promised to be glorious. She raised her head and pawed the ground impatiently. He towered above her; then he nuzzled her neck, and she accepted him.

Side by side, they loped through the long grass of the meadow and entered the woods. They ran faster and faster, galloping hell for leather in a wild frenzy of joy, relishing their freedom, ecstatic that they had found each other. When they entered a clearing in the heart of the forest, she stopped and waited for him to claim her. He did not mount her as she expected, but knelt down before her in homage to her lithe beauty.

In that moment she knew that he loved her.

"Worrisome circumstances apart, Rachel's wedding is the second one we've celebrated recently. There is bound to be a third ," Lady Lu predicted as she glanced at Harry. "When we return to London, I shall invite the Montagu family to a dinner party."

Mother is hoping for a match between William Montagu and me, Harry thought.

"I know that I am only seventeen, but if I receive a proposal of marriage, will you allow me to wed?" Jane asked.

"Darling, is this a fantasy or a real proposal you are speaking of?"

"Well, it's real enough to me," Jane declared.

"Since you'll soon be eighteen, I see no reason why you should turn down a proposal if it comes from a noble whose family is worthy of a duke's daughter."

Jane is hopelessly infatuated with Will Montagu, but Mother has marked him for me. 'Tis plain she does not consider Thomas Anson's family worthy in any way. "The notion that marriages come in three is just silly Irish superstition."

"Harry, you believe in more Irish superstitions than anyone I know. Surely you are not dismissing the possibility that you could be the third bride in the family?"

"It's possible that I could be the third bride," Jane insisted. "You cannot deny that Trixy's wedding was a surprise, as well as Rachel's, so why couldn't my wedding be a surprise?"

Her mother cautioned, "Jane, it is decidedly unladylike to be so eager for a husband. My older sister Georgy earned a reputation for being man-hungry, and she was left on the shelf until she was thirty-two years of age."

"But the tarot cards say that it is the woman who leads, and the man who follows."

"Jane, darling, one cannot conduct one's life on what tarot cards say. They are a whimsical diversion used to entertain at parties. I'm off to give Maud and Ronald their riding lesson. It won't be long before we must leave for Kilkenny."

When her mother left the room, Jane looked at Harry. "The tarot cards said that Trixy would get her wish in a three , and that's exactly what happened."

"What did your cards say, Jane?"

"I remember I got the Temperance card, but I'm not really sure what that means."

" Temperance is the Angel of Time. It means you must have patience. You are so young, Jane. You have all the time in the world before you need to think about marriage."

"But if I take my time, someone else is sure to grab him. Trixy stole D'Arcy right from under your nose. I don't want that to happen to me."

"I know you're speaking of Will Montagu. He's only twenty-two years old, so he too has all the time in the world to think about marriage. Jane, if it will stop you from worrying your guts to fiddle strings, I assure you I have not set my cap for Will."

"Truly, Harry? You won't try to steal him from me?"

"I promise."

Jane sighed. "He is the Earl of Dalkeith. There will be scores of other females eager to be his countess and live at Dalkeith Palace."

"That's true. But if you stay sweet and innocent, you will stand a far better chance of stealing his heart than all the others."

The corners of Jane's mouth lifted in a smile. "And here's the best part: Mother is going to invite the Montagu family to a dinner party when we get back to London."

"She's bent on matchmaking. Little does she know we will conspire against her."

At the end of August, the Hamilton family traveled to Kilkenny Castle to visit Lord Butler and Rachel. James Butler had sent Abercorn a letter telling them his brother John had died without ever regaining consciousness, so they knew the family was in mourning.

Abercorn sent a message that they would be arriving later in the day, so when the two coaches reached Kilkenny Castle, James and Rachel were waiting for them.

"Rachel, darling, you look radiant." Louisa embraced her youngest sister. "We are simply here to pay our respects. I won't subject you to my horrid horde longer than two days. Harry, Jane, and young James have promised to act as nursemaids to their younger siblings while we are at Kilkenny."

"That is extremely thoughtful of you, Lu. We are doing our best to take care of John's children in this sad time. The arrival of the young Hamiltons will be a welcome diversion for them."

The Hamiltons were accommodated in one wing, and then the two families had dinner in the castle's great hall. Widowed Frances still had a vacant look in her eyes, as if she hadn't fully comprehended her loss yet. She finally excused herself to feed her newly born baby girl.

Harry could sense that Rachel wanted to speak to her in private, so she asked if she would show her the garden.

Harry lowered her voice. "Any regrets, Rachel?"

"Oh, none whatsoever about marrying James. There is something I want to share with you, Harry. But I'd like you to keep it to yourself."

"I won't breathe a word."

"It wasn't just a riding accident. It was a hunting accident. John was shot and fractured his skull in the fall from his horse."

"Does your husband have any idea who shot his brother?"

Rachel nodded, and whispered, "It was his son Edward, who is now the Marquis of Ormonde. The child is drowning in guilt and clings to James as if he's a savior."

"That is so tragic. My heart goes out to the boy."

"Edward monopolizes James, so I am offering my comfort to the other children, especially eight-year-old Grace. Their mother is still stunned as a bird flown into a wall."

"With a new baby to look after, is it any wonder? You will surely have your hands full. It is such a sudden change for you, Rachel."

"After living alone, I find it gratifying to be surrounded by a husband and children."

Harry embraced her. "I shall miss you. I know it will be difficult, but you and James must come to London whenever it's possible. And in the meantime, promise me you won't give up your writing."

"I won't," Rachel vowed.

That night, Harry heard her parents discussing the tragic details of the hunting accident, and realized that James Butler must have confided in her father. She was relieved that her parents knew. It would make it easier for her to keep the secret.

Thomas Anson had a secret plan to return to London early. If everyone, including his family, thought he was still in Staffordshire, it would be his alibi if one should be needed. While he'd been at Shugborough, he had once again experienced his nightmare that his beloved home was on fire. He had been halfway down the stairs to fill buckets with water when he realized that his deep-seated fear was all in his head.

While at Shugborough, Thomas had made time to thoroughly examine the situation he was in. His resolve hardened and he concluded that it was time to take matters into his own hands.

Thomas timed his journey so that he arrived in the city after dark. He drove to Furnival's Inn, located in Ludgate, paid to have his carriage and horses stabled, and took a room for the night. After dinner in the taproom, he went upstairs and changed his clothes, donning black from head to foot.

At midnight, he picked up a small spanner and set off on foot to Fowler's law office, located on the first floor of a building off Chancery Lane. He made his way cautiously to the alley at the back of the building, and began the painstaking job of removing the iron bars that covered the window. He set the bars and the bolts he had removed on the ground and then with his fist, protected by his black leather glove, broke the window and crawled inside.

He moved about the law office slowly, feeling his way to familiarize himself with the layout, and did not strike a match until he had located the bank of heavy wooden filing drawers. He lit the lamp, turned it down low, and set it on the floor so its dim glow could not be seen through the front windows.

With rigid resolve, he removed the drawer marked A , sat down on the floor next to the lamp, and methodically went through all the files until he came to the one marked Anson . He read everything in the file including two signed wills. The first named Thomas Nathaniel Anson as his father's legal heir. The second will named his daughter Anne Frederica as his heir, with her husband, Lord Elcho, to hold the Staffordshire property in trust for her. A foul curse dropped from Thomas's lips. Next to the wills, he found his father's sworn affidavit that falsely claimed he was illegitimate, along with a letter of instructions that stated if Thomas married before his father died, Fowler was to burn the affidavit.

He carefully replaced everything in the file except the second will and the signed affidavit. He turned out the lamp and put it back where it belonged. Then he lifted the drawer from the floor and replaced it in the bank of wooden files. He put the papers inside his coat, climbed out the window, and carefully bolted the bars back in place.

Thomas picked up a few stones and broken bricks from the alley. He tossed one through the bars of the broken window, then with the other stones proceeded to break the windows of other offices in the building. He didn't want Fowler to suspect that his office had been broken into, and fervently hoped it would appear that young hooligans had been on a window-smashing spree.

At least it should buy me some time before Fowler discovers that documents are missing from his files. The thought occurred to him, and not for the first time, that there could be other copies. There was little he could do about that, short of setting ablaze the building, and fire was anathema to Thomas. Perhaps there are other copies in the safe that Father keeps in his bedchamber. The wily swine has always kept the combination secret, but perhaps there is a way of learning what it is.

The following morning, Thomas left Furnival's Inn, drove north to Hampstead Heath, where he spent a few happy hours exploring the heath made famous by highwaymen. When the sun was at its zenith, he drove his phaeton west to the Brent river, and spent the afternoon fishing. Dusk was descending when Thomas drove south on the Circular Road and entered London as if he were returning from Stafford on the last day of August.

"It's the first day of September and it's still warm as summer, with not a hint of autumn in the air." For once Harry was glad to be back in England.

Abercorn's ship had made an overnight crossing to Bristol. Lady Hamilton leaned back against the velvet squabs of the coach. "We'll be in London tonight, and will be able to sleep in our own beds, for which I am truly thankful. Amen."

"Harry, I've never visited the House of Commons. How about taking me to the visitors' gallery one day this week?" Jane asked.

Harry hid her amusement. "I would be delighted. I'm so glad you are taking an interest in politics. Trixy wasn't the least inquisitive about the subject. Perhaps we'll be lucky enough to hear Uncle Johnny speak on the floor."

"You'll likely see Will Montagu. He's the member for Midlothian," her mother said.

Harry smiled. And Thomas Anson is the member for Lichfield.