An Unlikely Father Read online

  “Just how do you plan to make his lordship behave kindly to his wards, my dear? He has a house full of guests and will likely pay little heed to you, me or the children over the course of the next few days.”

  Emily’s mouth tilted slyly, which gave Delia pause. In truth it was more of a mischievous grin than a smile. Clearly Lord Hawksworth’s peaceful house party was about to be disturbed.

  “I have been giving the matter due thought. I believe I have a way to eliminate all the distractions at the castle, but I shall not tell you my plan for I have not worked out all the details.” Seeing Delia about to protest, Emily added, “Not another word about his lordship or the children. It is quite late and there is much to do in the morning, so I shall bid you good night.”

  Mrs. Keaton rose with reluctance, but the look on her lovely face revealed that she was filled with worry about her mistress’s mysterious plan.

  Emily came round the table and gave her a hug. “Don’t worry. I shall do nothing outrageous. Just a bit of dissembling to achieve my goal. After all, we want the best life for the children and I mean to see they have that.”

  Delia nodded, then wished Emily good night. She had never known her employer to do anything scandalous, so she would trust in her once again for the children’s sake. Still, she thought it best that the head of the Collins family should be informed that Emily might be in some danger at Hawk’s Lair, especially if the earl thought her a penniless female. With that thought in mind, Delia determined to send a letter that very night to Squire Joshua Collins in Coventry to inform him of his niece’s return to England and her current location.

  Unaware of Delia’s great concern for her mistress’s reputation and confident in her own ability to handle the earl, Emily entered her own room. She eyed her trunks sitting beside the wardrobe and uttered a mild curse regarding the unknown Antoine who’d barred maids from the household. She would have to unpack her clothes herself.

  A variety of colorful India muslins greeted her as she opened the lid. The gowns weren’t the height of fashion, dating to last year, before her uncle died, but they would have to do until she reached London. She wanted to look her best when she went down to breakfast in the morning, and one could not do that in a badly crushed gown.

  Choosing a blue-and-white checked gown with a matching indigo-blue velvet spenser trimmed with white lace on the long sleeves and round the neck, she hung it over a straight-backed chair, which she positioned in front of the fire. Then she donned her nightrail and climbed into bed, all the while planning what she would say to the gentleman at breakfast.

  As she was about to drift into sleep, the face of Lord Hawksworth flashed in her mind. Delia was correct; he was very handsome. But Emily vowed not to allow that to affect her in any way. The children were what was important. With that thought, she drifted to sleep.

  A spring thaw finally came to Somersetshire the following morning, as the sun rose to melt the snow and ice. Lord Hawksworth rose early, deciding to go immediately to Bath to hire a nurse and governess for his wards. The warming weather would allow him to travel in his phaeton, but he knew the roads would quickly thaw to muddy bogs if he lingered too long at his business.

  During a hasty breakfast, the earl informed his butler, still suffering the effects of a cold but determined to fulfill his duties, of the additions to his household. Bedows expressed his sympathies, then informed his lordship of the agency where he would most likely be able to quickly employ a respectable servant and governess.

  Oliver requested that the butler inform the gentlemen that the visit to the mill in Marksbury would go on as planned. The earl had every intention of being back at Hawk’s Lair before noon. About to don his driving gloves, he remembered the ladies and children.

  “Bedows, inform Miss Collins that my niece and nephews are not to be allowed out of the nursery today. I do not wish my guests disturbed.”

  The butler’s grey brows jerked upward but a moment, then settled back to their proper position. “Begging your pardon, my lord, but are you certain that is what you wish me to say? I don’t know this lady, but nothing makes one more contrary than to be ordered not to do something. May I suggest that it might be better to request that the ladies not take the children outside, due to the danger of the melting snow and ice? I could suggest that they might like to inspect the trunks of toys and books in the attic.”

  Oliver stared at the old man a moment. He’d never known the butler to question an order before. But then, Martin might have informed the fellow about Miss Collins’s unconventional conduct the night before. Bedows was correct. The lady wouldn’t likely remain in the nursery all day, especially if Oliver ordered it. “Very well, Bedows. Do what will best contain the ladies and my wards to the upper floors.”

  With that, the earl departed, confident that his able butler would make certain that his guests were not disturbed. But he had not reckoned with Miss Collins’s determination.

  Some two hours after his lordship had set out for Bath, the other guests began to trickle down to the breakfast parlor. Mr. Abbot and Bones were full of questions about the mysterious females and children when Sir Ethan arrived to break his fast. But the baronet had never suffered from a loose tongue, and so he informed the curious gentlemen that his lordship would tell them as much or as little of his personal affairs as he wished.

  Sir Ethan guided the gentlemen to the safer discussion of the opponents in the afternoon’s coming mill. Wagers were being placed on the opposing bruisers when the door to the breakfast room opened and Miss Emily Collins stepped in, pausing for effect.

  The gentlemen rose, staring at the vision before them. Gone was the drab mouse in the gray traveling gown. In her place stood a lovely young woman. The severe bun had been replaced with a knot of soft brown curls through which a blue ribbon was entwined. The lady wore an elegant morning gown which complemented her figure and made Bones lift his quizzing glass the better to admire her.

  “Good morning, gentlemen.”

  The baronet came round the table. “Miss Collins, you are looking bonny this fine morn.” Taking her hand, he led her to the table where the others waited, curiosity glinting in their faces. The Scotsman quickly made the introductions, with no explanation as to who or what the lady was to his lordship. The two gentlemen were full of grandiose compliments, which only made the lady laugh.

  “Pray, be seated, gentlemen. Your meals grow cold and I do not intend to dine, but came to speak with Lord Hawksworth on an urgent matter.”

  Mr. Abbot and Mr. Bonham returned to their breakfast but with less interest than usual. Sir Ethan remained at the lady’s side. “I fear you will not find his lordship here, Miss Collins. Bedows tells me he went to Bath this morning, but is expected to return soon. Is there anything I can do to aid you?”

  Emily bit her lip pensively. Her plan had involved the earl, but with his lordship gone, she realized it might prove easier to accomplish without him. She glanced at the gentlemen who stared at her with avid interest. Taking a breath, she launched into her speech. “I fear one of the children appears to be coming down with the measles.”

  Malcolm Abbot’s fork clattered to his plate. His round face grew red and he babbled, “Measles! I have never had the malady. I cannot like this turn of events. What does Hawksworth mean by bringing a collection of disease-ridden brats into his home?”

  The others stared at the frantic gentleman, but they had no notion he had suffered from a morbid fear of illness much of his life, having lost two younger brothers to an inflammation of the lungs and fever years earlier. Abruptly, he rose and without speaking to anyone in particular, announced, “I have just remembered an important engagement in Town. Sir Ethan, you must give Hawksworth my regrets, but I must depart immediately.”

  Mr. Bonham rose with less urgency, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his gaunt features. “ ’Tis but a childhood complaint, but ain’t something I would relish coming down with. Give my compliments to the earl and say I’ve gone w
ith Abbot.”

  With that, the gentlemen exited the breakfast parlor without finishing their meals, making a wide arc around the bearer of the ill tidings as if she were a carrier of the affliction herself. Emily was so delighted with the success of her plan that she quite forgot herself and a smile tipped her lips as the door closed.

  Sir Ethan, gazing at the lady as he mentally lamented the illness of the wee bairn, was stuck with the notion that Miss Collins seemed a bit cheery for one who was about to nurse a sick child. When the lady became aware of his scrutiny, her expression sobered.

  “Sir, do not let me detain you. I shall fully understand if you wish to flee the children’s sickness.”

  All at once the baronet understood that secret smile. Miss Collins had come to rid the house of his lordship’s guests. Not that he could blame her. If he had any offspring, he was certain he wouldn’t want a pair of loose fish like Abbot and Bonham hanging about. Clearly she wanted him gone as well, but Sir Ethan knew he couldn’t miss seeing Oliver’s face when he learned that the lady had cleared the house during his lordship’s absence. The Scotsman couldn’t resist grinning at her as he announced, “Well, I dislike disappointing such a bonny lass, but I had the measles years ago in Scotland.”

  Emily was only mildly dissatisfied that her ruse had not removed all of his lordship’s guests. Sir Ethan’s behavior had been all that was proper last night, and he perhaps might give Lord Hawksworth good advice about being a responsible guardian, as he appeared some years more mature than the earl. “Oh, I am pleased to hear you are not in any danger of falling ill. But you must excuse me, sir. I cannot leave dear Delia to manage all three of the children alone.”

  Sir Ethan watched the door close behind Miss Collins. With a chuckle, he sat down to finish his breakfast and await the return of his friend.

  “So the pretty blond lass is Delia.” His thoughts shifted from the earl and his lovely tormentor to the lady he’d spoken with the night before. She was not like her friend, with her gentle reserved ways. Nor was she like the bored, sophisticated females that crowded the ton. She was like a warm breeze come to thaw his frozen heart.

  The baronet gave a shout of laughter at his sudden poetic turn. Tossing his napkin to the table, he rose and decided to walk to the village to take care of a small matter before the earl returned.

  Lord Hawksworth entered the castle some thirty minutes after the coach carrying Mr. Abbot and Mr. Bonham had departed for Town. Unaware of the defection of most of his guests, Oliver went straight to his library to summon Bedows.

  He informed the butler that a Mrs. Milly Waters would be arriving that evening and she was to take over the duties of nurse to the children. He hadn’t been so fortunate in his search for a governess. He’d been disappointed to learn that the agency would have to advertise for a governess who taught Latin, not having one at present.

  He hoped that the newly hired nurse would be sufficient for the troublesome Miss Collins. If he were lucky, she and her female companion might be on their way in the morning, leaving him and his friends to their planned amusements. But in truth, he knew that he and James owed the ladies a great debt for returning the children to England, and manners demanded that they be allowed to remain as long as they wished to recover from the arduous journey.

  When Bedows turned to leave, Oliver halted him. “Where are the gentlemen?”

  The butler cleared his throat. “My lord, Mr. Abbot and Mr. Bonham—” Just then a knock sounded on the library door, and it opened to reveal Sir Ethan.

  “So you are back, Hawksworth. Was your mission a success?”

  Oliver dismissed Bedows, but was puzzled by the look of what appeared to be relief on the old man’s face. Perhaps the man was still out of curl with his cold.

  As the baronet strolled in, the earl’s attention was diverted by the sight of a package in his friend’s hand, but Hawksworth asked no prying questions. Instead he directed the gentleman to the fireplace, where he joined him. “Not entirely. I was able to engage a nurse, but I fear Miss Collins’s requirements for a governess were such that I shall have to wait to find a lady with the knowledge to teach Latin.”

  Sir Ethan laid the small bound bundle on the table. “Never hired a governess myself, but one would want the best for one’s heir. Do you think there is a female that reads Latin?”

  The earl gave a slight shrug as he stretched his long legs out towards the fire, crossing them at the ankle. “I cannot say, but we shall soon find out. ’Tis unfortunate that the local living is currently vacant so I cannot enlist the vicar to instruct the boy. Where are Abbot and Bones? We must leave soon if we are to reach Marksbury and find a good vantage point to view the mill.”

  A grin tipped Sir Ethan’s mouth. “So, Bedows didn’t tell you the news.”

  With a sinking feeling, Oliver shook his head. He didn’t know why, but he was certain that whatever this news was, Miss Collins was going to be involved. She’d scarcely been in his life for twelve hours and already things were in a turmoil. “What has transpired?”

  “It seems one of the children has come down with the measles—or so our lovely lady newly arrived from the Indies announced at breakfast.”

  Oliver watched his friend grin and waggle his auburn brows. “You seem doubtful.”

  The baronet nodded. “Aye, there was a look about the lass this morning that wasn’t quite right. Almost gleeful as the gentlemen announced their departure. Seemed anxious for me to join them in their mad dash back to London.”

  Oliver shifted his gaze to the flames. Was one of his young wards truly sick, or was Miss Collins playing some deep game? After all, he knew nothing about this female, nor had his brother for that matter. The solicitor’s letter informed him that the lady had been chosen merely because she was the first Englishwoman leaving Calcutta. Was she an adventuress planning to use his young relatives to prolong her stay at the castle?

  The image of the lady’s face came to him, and he remembered her cutting remarks and glittering, angry eyes. If she were planning something of that nature she would have been far more accommodating instead of raging at him so strongly. Still, she seemed to be insinuating herself into his wards’ affairs. He didn’t know what she was up to, but he would find out.

  He went to the bell rope, about to summon the vexatious lady to the library, then decided he would go to her. Perhaps catch her out in whatever little plot she had schemed.

  “I think I shall pay a visit to the nursery and see which, if any, of the children are ill.”

  Sir Ethan rose, picking up his package. “Before you go, I have something which might help you.”

  Oliver took the small bundle wrapped in brown paper. He looked at his friend, who nodded his head to indicate that he should open the gift. He untied the string and the paper fell away.

  Sir Ethan arched one brow. “If all else fails, try this to charm the lady.”

  The earl fingered the small wooden musical instrument. “I think it would take a flute the size of a cannon to enchant the staunch Miss Collins.” With that he tucked the small flute into his pocket and marched out of the room. He went up the stairs to the third floor. With each step his indignation and anger at the lady who’d disrupted his house party grew.

  The sight of Swarup standing in front of the nursery door jarred the earl a bit from his certainty that Miss Collins was playing some nefarious game. Did penniless young females have personal servants? And who was Mrs. Keaton in this drama? As he neared the door where the manservant stood, the chant of a nursery rhyme could be heard coming from behind the portal.

  Without hesitation Swarup bowed, then opened the door for the earl, who stepped into the room just in time to see Miss Collins, Honoria and Jamie all fall down as the rhyme had ordered. There was a great deal of laughter by the trio on the floor until they realized they had a visitor; then they grew silent.

  Near the window, Mrs. Keaton sat with young Wesley upon her lap. The smile dropped from her face and she uttered, “E
mily,” in a strained tone.

  Miss Collins sat up and gazed at him from her position on the floor, her blue-and-white skirt billowed out around her. Without the least hesitation she politely said, “Good morning, Lord Hawksworth.”

  A quick inspection of the children showed not a single red spot on any of their rosy cheeks. Fury almost choked Oliver as he realized what the lady had done. She had driven his guests away with a false tale of illness.

  “Nursing the children back to health, Miss Collins?” the earl said with contempt.

  A slight flush came to the lady’s cheeks as she rose. Without answering his question, she got Honoria and Jamie settled at a table with paper and a box of water colors, then requested each to paint a picture of what they liked most about England.

  Oliver watched as she went to a desk near the fireplace and picked up the birdcage, which was uncovered and revealed one red and one green parrot. With her eyes straight ahead, she walked past him into the hall. She signaled Swarup to stand back as the servant moved to take the cage from her. With single-mindedness, she marched some distance down the hall, then turned to face him. The look on her face was one of polite inquiry. “You wished to speak with me, sir?”

  At that moment Oliver’s fondest wish was to throttle this annoying female. How dare she come to Hawk’s Lair and completely disrupt all his plans?

  While his contemptuous gaze swept her as she stood holding the squawking parrots, his ever-rakish self was suddenly struck with the notion that she looked quite different than she had the night before. There was a deliciously unkempt quality to the brown curls which had sprung loose from their top knot and now framed her oval face. Her cheeks, flushed from the children’s game, held the hint of a blush. But what struck him most was the inviting moistness of her full pink lips.