Chapter Nine

O liver was worried. He’d only left Kate’s side for a few minutes the previous evening, and she’d somehow ended up in a corner, looking pale and extremely ill. One minute she’d been laughing and joyful, and the next, he’d found her across the room, shaking like a leaf in the autumn wind. She’d denied anything had happened—no one had accosted or frightened her—she’d merely suffered an attack of nausea. It was a normal part of being with child. He’d taken her home at once and given her a tiny drop of laudanum so that she could rest. And he’d called the doctor in the morning, who’d determined that Kate was suffering from exhaustion. Was he to blame? The constant lovemaking since their marriage, the rush and bustle of choosing a new wardrobe, and the stress of being introduced to society as the new Lady Knox. Why had he pushed her so?

With adequate rest, all will be well. There is no need to fret. The doctor had reassured him. Still, he could not help but worry. The incident had brought up painful memories of the past. And he would not survive another loss. He’d finally opened his heart again, and he couldn’t believe how much his life had changed. He had a beautiful wife, and in a few months, he would be a father. The house would be filled with laughter and joy. But every love came with risk, and now he wondered if the risk had been worth taking. If only Kate’s aunt hadn’t returned to Yorkshire. Perhaps, he should send for her again. Kate needed someone—another woman—to watch over her while he was working.

Oliver sat behind his desk and dropped his head in his hands. He had work that needed his attention, but he could not concentrate. His mind kept wandering back to Kate.

A short rap on Oliver’s office door sounded. “Enter,” Oliver said. Normally, he didn’t like to be disturbed while working, but he’d made himself fully available lest Kate needed him.

The door opened to reveal his butler, Moses, in the doorway. “There’s a young lady here who claims to be your cousin, my lord,” Moses said in his pinched, nasal tone.

“My cousin?” Oliver frowned.

“Yes, my lord. She says her name is Emilia Harrington—the sister of one Mathew James Harrington, your deceased heir.”

Oliver’s frown deepened. How odd. He hadn’t even known that Harrington had had a sister. But of course, it was probable. He wondered what she wanted from him.

“Shall I tell her to wait, my lord?”

“No,” Oliver said, curious now. “Show her to my office.”

The butler withdrew and Oliver rubbed the worry from his face and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. Then he cleared his throat and sat up straight, awaiting his guest. Oliver stood as the young woman entered his office dressed in black mourning attire. She was a beautiful woman—tall and slim with white-blond hair and icy blue eyes. Oliver thought she looked oddly familiar. But he could not place her.

“Miss Harrington,” Oliver said. “This is a surprise.”

“Thank you for agreeing to see me, my lord.”

“Of course,” Oliver said, inviting her to sit. “Forgive me for asking this, but have we met before?”

“No, my lord. I would have remembered if I’d been introduced to my own cousin.”

“Yes, of course. Forgive me.” Oliver grinned sheepishly. “Tell me, how can I help you?”

“As you know, my brother, your heir, was killed in a carriage accident two months ago.”

“Yes, I was truly sorry to receive the news of his death.”

“What you may not know is that I was in the carriage with him that day.”

“No. I only received news of your brother’s death. I wasn’t informed about the details of the crash. I hope you didn’t suffer any serious injuries.”

“I was extremely lucky. We were both thrown several feet into the air when the carriage overturned and tumbled down a deep ravine. It was smashed to pieces, destroyed beyond recognition. Mathew”—she cleared her throat—“unfortunately, Mathew was killed instantly. I was knocked unconscious but miraculously survived without any broken bones. I believe it took several hours before anyone discovered our carriage as we were traveling in a rather rural area.”

“Good Lord! How awful.”

“Although I have no recollection of walking away from the accident site and stumbling along a country road, I am told that is what happened,” Miss Harrington continued. “Luckily, a farmer and his wife driving by in their cart spotted me in my confused, bloodied state. They took me home and spent several weeks nursing me back to health. When the wreckage was eventually found, Mathew’s mangled body was barely recognizable. But the constable found some of our belongings. My bloodied shawl lay at the scene, along with some of Mathew’s papers, which contained his details and our Yorkshire address. We’d been renting a house there after returning from several years on the continent.”

“Yes, I was told as much.”

“It was from those papers that they were able to identify Mathew. And based on my bloodied shawl, the constable assumed that his companion, me, had been taken by wild animals. He went to our Yorkshire address and met with the landlord who told him that Mathew had lived with his sister, Miss Emilia Harrington. Based on that information and my bloodied shawl found at the scene, the constable declared me dead alongside my brother.”

“Do you mean to say the farmer and his wife carted you away without alerting anyone that you were still alive?”

Emilia nodded. “The kind individuals who saved my life were elderly and reclusive. I said nothing to them about my brother because, at first, I couldn’t remember anything, not even so much as my name. I think because of the impact on my head. Fortunately, that only lasted a few weeks, and eventually I regained my memory and strength and made my way back to Yorkshire. The landlord had all of our belongings, which I suspect he would have sold had it not been for this.” She pulled a folded letter out of his pocket and handed it to Oliver.

Dear Mr. Harrington,

After thorough and extensive research, we have discovered that you are the 6th cousin of one

Oliver Henry Harrington, 4th Earl of Knox, and next in line to inherit his title and estate should he have no sons of his own. As such, we would like to meet with you as soon as possible. Please contact us by replying to this letter or by paying us a visit at the offices of Huxley and Bailey, 79 Fleet Street, London.

Yours sincerely,

Huxley and Bailey

Solicitors at Law

Oliver put down the letter.

“The landlord said he was going to write to you so you could take possession our belongings since he wasn’t able to locate any other family members. And that is how I discovered that I wasn’t alone in the world. I had—have—a cousin.”

“I’m pleased to hear that you are, indeed, alive and well, Miss Harrington, and, of course, I am terribly sorry about your brother. If I remember correctly, your parents died when you were young?”

“Yes, Mathew was sixteen and I fourteen. Ever since then, I’ve relied on him to take care of me. Now that he is dead, I have nothing—no money, no home, and no family—except for you.”

“Your brother didn’t leave you any money?”

“My brother didn’t have any money. Our father gambled everything away, and unfortunately, Mathew suffered from the same problem.”

“I see.”

“But we learned to fend for ourselves,” she said. “And now that my brother is dead, I must do whatever it takes to secure my future.”

“If I am indeed your only family, I am obliged to help you. I believe I can arrange a safe place for you to stay and perhaps give you a small allowance. My lawyers will want to verify your identity before they arrange anything—I am sure you understand.”

“I believe your wife, Kate, can do that for you.”

“My wife?” Oliver said. “How do know—”

Miss Harrington cocked her head. “Do you not know? Kate was betrothed to my brother—your heir.”

Oliver felt the blood drain from his face. “What are you talking about?”

“Before my brother’s death, he proposed marriage to a young lady, who also happened to be a dear friend of mine. They were very much in love, and I’m afraid they were rather careless and foolish with their passion. By that I mean, they expressed their love for one another fully—in a marital sense—before marriage. The young lady in question informed my brother that she was with child, and he proposed. She knew my brother by his childhood nickname, Theo. And her name is Katherine Sheldon, daughter of Sir Henry Sheldon of Yorkshire. So, you see, the babe your wife is carrying is my brother’s child.”

Oliver couldn’t believe his ears. “That’s ridiculous. If my wife had previously been betrothed to a Harrington, I think she would have told me as much.”

“She wouldn’t have known. Theo and I despised my father. He was a drunk and a gambler whose reputation preceded him, so we often used our mother’s maiden name, Thurston.”

Oliver clasped his hands together. “You’re telling me that my wife was betrothed to a man who used a false name?”

“They were secretly betrothed. And he didn’t use a false name. As I said, Theo was his childhood nickname; he preferred it to Mathew because that was our father’s name. For that same reason, we preferred to use our mother’s surname.”

Oliver shook his head. “I’m sorry, but this is all sounding a bit too strange.”

“Didn’t your lawyers tell you anything about your heir and his parentage?”

They had, but truth be told, Oliver hadn’t paid much attention. He’d still been too lost in the fog of grief to care. “One moment,” he said and bent to open his bottom desk drawer from which he extracted a roll of papers tied together with string. He removed the string, unraveled the documents, and scanned the letter from his lawyers for the details he wanted.

Your sixth cousin, Mathew James Harrington, born 1790, only son of Mathew Frances Harrington (died 1799) and Mary Jane Thurston (died 1802) .

Oliver lowered the document. “It doesn’t say anything about Mr. Harrington having a sister in here.”

“That’s because women aren’t important. We cannot inherit titles or entailed estates, so we are not worth mentioning. Why do you think I am here today, appealing for your help?”

She was right. His lawyers had not even bothered to tell him that his heir had a sister, nor had he cared to ask. Yet, here she sat, all alone in the world.

“Surely, Katherine told you that her babe’s father died in a carriage accident and that his sister—her best friend—died alongside him. Perhaps, she even mentioned my name.” Emilia raised her eyebrows.

Oliver’s blood ran cold. Kate had mentioned that Theo’s sister, her dearest friend, had died in the carriage accident too. But it was a painful subject and one they’d avoided talking about in their short time together. They’d tried hard to put their grief and their pasts behind them as they focused on their future.

“Well?” Emilia said.

Oliver cleared his throat. “Yes, she talked of losing her dear friend—Theo’s sister—but the subject caused her so much pain, we rarely spoke of it.”

“It’s truly a miracle I survived. She will be overjoyed to know that I am alive and that we can be sisters once again.”

Oliver didn’t know what to think. He felt an implied threat in that this woman knew about Kate’s babe. But, if she really was Kate’s dear friend and her babe’s aunt, then she would be a great comfort to Kate. All he wanted was Kate’s happiness, and if Emilia contributed to her happiness, then she could stay if she wished.

Kate’s eyes fluttered open. Sunlight filtered through the drawn blue velvet curtains of her bedroom. She squinted. How long had she been sleeping? Then, remembering the events from the night before, she suddenly felt very foolish. She’d been so frightened yesterday after “seeing” Emilia, thinking that she’d returned from the dead to haunt her. How silly she’d behaved. What must Oliver think after finding her in such a confused state? Still, the memory made her shudder. Her mind had played a terrible trick on her—and she’d felt the pain of losing Theo and Emilia all over again like a thousand knife wounds sent to remind her of their fate while she danced and laughed the night away.

She pushed herself into a sitting position and rubbed her eyes. Then she smiled. Oliver was standing by the door, watching her.

He strolled toward her, grinning. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look when you sleep?”

Kate laughed. “Yes, you, every morning.” How lucky she was to have such a dashing and adoring husband. She should not feel guilty for loving him.

Oliver sat on the bed beside her and kissed her cheek. “Are you feeling rested?”

“Yes, I feel much better,” Kate said honestly.

“Good, because I have a surprise for you. One that might shock you but will bring you much joy.”

“A surprise!” Kate’s heart swelled. Oliver was too good to her. “What is it?”

“Not what—who,” Oliver said. “She’s someone you once loved dearly—someone from your past who—”

“Hello, Kate!” Emilia entered the room, cutting Oliver off mid-sentence.

Kate felt the color drain from her face. “Emilia!” She began to tremble. Was she hallucinating again? She appealed to Oliver with her eyes. Am I going mad? Do you see her too?

“I thought we agreed that you should wait until I called you into the room,” Oliver turned to Emilia.

He’s talking to her. He can see her!

“How could I possibly wait another second to see my dearest sister again!” Emilia came forward and threw her arms around Kate. “It’s me, Kate. I’m alive.”

“How is it possible?” Kate asked, clinging to her friend. She embraced the evidence of Emilia’s warm body and familiar rose scent. This was no hallucination or dream. Emilia was alive!

“I’ve just explained it all to your husband. It’s truly a miraculous story.” They released their grip on each other.

Oliver stood up. “I’m going to leave you two alone, but I’ll be back to check on you soon. If you need me before then, I’ll be in my study.” He looked from Emilia to Kate and smiled. “It warms my heart to see you so happy.” He took Kate’s hand and kissed it. “I’m right here if you need me, darling,” he said and exited the room.

“I can hardly believe this,” Kate said, still in shock as Emilia sat on the bed and proceeded to explain everything.

“It’s a miracle,” Kate repeated for the third time when Emilia finished her story. “Last night, when I saw you at the party, I thought I was hallucinating. Did you not see me, dearest? Why didn’t you approach me then?”

“The party? What party? I just arrived in London this morning. And I only came here to find you, not to attend balls.”

Kate froze. “But I’m certain I saw you last night at Lady Ashwood’s ball.”

“Who is Lady Ashwood? Did you talk to this ‘Emilia’ you thought you saw?”

“I tried—I called out to you, but you seemed not to hear me, so I walked to where you were standing, but when I got there, you’d disappeared.” Kate rubbed her forehead. “You were wearing a yellow dress and sipping champagne.”

“Sipping Champagne in a yellow dress at a society ball? Kate, I’m in mourning. I just told you about the harrowing experience of my survival, and you think that two months later I’d be enjoying festivities—two months after losing my beloved brother—the only family I have—” She shook her head, seemingly unable to continue. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she covered her mouth with her trembling hand.

Kate’s stomach shriveled. What an awful, horrible friend she was. “I’m sorry! Of course, you weren’t there. I was mistaken. I’m a fool. I don’t know what I’m saying. Please forgive me!”

Emilia sniffed. “Sometimes, I’m so distraught that I imagine I see him, walking on the street or driving past me in a carriage. He’ll appear out of nowhere—my darling brother—as real as if he stood before me in the flesh. But to be sure, it is only a figment of my imagination.” She gave Kate a sad smile. “You mustn’t think yourself mad. Grief can play powerful tricks on the mind. It happens to the best of us.”

Kate nodded. Her certainty of what she’d thought she’d seen was now shattered. “Oh, Emilia, I have missed you. I don’t think I realized just how much until this moment.” She embraced her friend. Emilia was right. It had been her imagination. Emilia could not have been at Lady Ashworth’s ball. She was in deep mourning for her brother.

Emilia wiped a tear from her eye. “I can’t tell you how guilty I feel, knowing that I survived the accident and darling Theo perished,” she said. “I wish he were the one sitting here with you now.”

Kate reached for her friend’s hand. “Oh, my dearest Emilia. How you must suffer.”

“It’s not only the pain of losing a brother—to be sure—that is agony. But now that Theo’s gone, I’ve found myself completely destitute and alone in the world. I’m so afraid, Kate.”

“You’re not destitute. You have me. And you’ll stay with us. We will introduce you to society, and I am sure you will make a wonderful match and have a family of your own one day. Our children will grow up together and be the best of friends.”

“They’ll be cousins,” Emilia said, smiling through her tears. “To think you might be carrying a little Theo in your womb.” She placed a hand on Kate’s stomach, “It’s so…I can’t…” Emilia’s lovely blue eyes turned watery again.

“Oh, Emilia. I miss him, too.”

“Do you?” Emilia asked, her voice suddenly cold.

“Of course, I do,” Kate protested, somewhat taken aback. “I loved Theo, you know that.” But guilt gnawed at Kate as she spoke. Since marrying Oliver, she realized that she’d never truly loved Theo, not in the way she loved Oliver. Theo had assuaged her fears of being an old maid, left behind to rot as her father’s keeper. He’d whispered sweet words telling her how beautiful she was and how much he desired her, but she’d never felt as connected to him as she did to Oliver. Oliver was her one true love, but she couldn’t admit that to Emilia.

“I know you did,” Emilia said, suddenly warm again. “I bore witness to your love. But when I look at this house and the handsome earl you married, I can’t help wondering if, deep down, you are happy that things turned out the way they did. You’re happy Theo is dead.”

Kate’s chest tightened as guilt took hold. “Emilia don’t say such things! I am happy I met Oliver. He is my husband, and I love him dearly. But I loved Theo too. He is my child’s father and will always have a special place in my heart.”

Emilia smiled. “I’m sure he will. And I’m so pleased that I’ll have the chance to tell his son or daughter all about him. It will be like having a part of him with me again.”

Kate bit her lip. She’d have to have a difficult conversation with Emilia about the child, and she’d have to tread very carefully so as not to injure her further. “I am so pleased you will be part of your niece’s or nephew’s life. But you must remember, never mention that Oliver is not the child’s father. If you do it will ruin his ability to inherit Oliver’s title, or if it’s a girl, her opportunity to make a good match. It’s for the good of the child. You understand that don’t you?”

For a minute, Kate thought she saw a coldness in Emilia’s gaze, and her heart froze in fear. But then Emilia smiled, and the warmth in her eyes returned. “I understand,” she said, leaning in to give Kate another embrace. “You can count on me being your greatest confidant and friend.” She placed her hand on Kate’s belly. “I already cherish this child. He’s all I have left of my brother.” Then she turned away, but before she did, Kate caught another glimpse of the frost in Emilia’s eyes, and it sent a shiver down her spine. But she immediately pushed the feeling aside. Poor Emilia had suffered tremendously, while she’d been living a dream. Her dearest friend was right. She’d barely taken the time to mourn Theo. Instead, she’d selfishly indulged in a new happiness. So, who was she to judge Emilia?