An Unlikely Father (17 page)

Bedows was not in the least intimidated. “If you have a card, sir, I shall take it to my master to see if he is at home.”

The man shook his cane at the servant. “I’ll not be barred from a house where my niece is in residence. If that rake ain’t at home, then inform Miss Collins that her family has come to welcome her back into the bosom of her family.”

Oliver stifled a groan. Every line in the stranger’s posture spoke his unhappiness at finding his young relative at Hawk’s Lair. There could be little doubt the man was fully aware of Oliver’s reputation.

Unfortunately, there was little hope of avoiding contact with Emily’s relations, since he fully intended to marry her. Oliver closed the door and returned to his desk, where Bedows found him some moments later. The earl took the card and tossed it to his desk after a brief glance. “Show them in, Bedows, and inform Miss Collins of their arrival.”

Ten

In her private drawing room, Emily stood before the windows, her fingers lingering on her lips as she remembered the searing kiss in the library. The earl’s touch had sent her senses reeling, but with distance between them, she must think more rationally. She couldn’t allow herself to hope for much beyond a dalliance on the gentleman’s part. While she might foolishly harbor dreams of marriage, perhaps the earl’s ideal of a proper wife was someone of Lady Cora’s stamp
—
aristocratic, sophisticated and wealthy.

Then she remembered the baronet’s words that a fortune would make most gentlemen forget the lack of the former qualities. Well, she wouldn’t be wed merely for her money.

Yet still she clung to the idea that perhaps Lord Hawksworth had truly fallen in love with her. That he intended to make her an offer. She’d been careful not to mention the fortune she’d inherited. Could he have kissed her in such a manner without some deep feeling?

At that moment Delia entered. “The children are all safely back with Mrs. Waters.” Then, seeing the look on Emily’s face, she came to her, saying, “What did the earl wish to speak with you about?”

Emily shrugged, but felt her cheeks warm. “Lord Hawksworth wanted to thank me for protecting Jamie from Lady Cora’s wrath.”

“Then why do you seem so
...
distressed?”

With a tight laugh, Emily moved to sit in a chair near the fire. “Don’t be silly. I am merely tired and a bit flushed from all the outdoor activity.”

Delia joined her friend, still doubtful of her mood. She made an effort to keep the conversation light by speaking of the children and the pleasantries of the afternoon before Lady Cora’s tantrum.

A knock sounded on the door, startling the ladies. Upon entering, Bedows announced, “Miss Collins, a Mr. Joshua Collins and his family have arrived.”

At once Emily turned to Delia, knowing only she would have known where to correspond with Emily’s relations. “What have you done?”

The widow bit at her lip. “I thought it for the best, my dear. You are young and fabulously wealthy. You heard what Sir Ethan said this afternoon. You will be attracting every fortune hunter in England when word gets about that a new heiress has arrived. You will need the protection of a family. I cannot bear to think of anything bad happening to you.” Delia wisely refrained from mentioning her fears about the earl, knowing her employer’s headstrong nature.

A thought suddenly flashed through Emily’s mind that she might need someone to protect her from her own family. But having not seen them in years, she knew she might be doing them an injustice.

“You know they would not have me all those years ago after my parents died.” With a sigh at the old hurt, Emily took note of the contrite expression on Delia’s face. “Don’t worry. I shall go down and welcome them.
Who knows, they may be much improved in the intervening years.”

She rose and announced, “Bedows, I must change my gown first, then I shall join my relatives.” Without another word, she went to change and prepare herself for a meeting with people she thought never to see again.

Determined to be civil despite Mr. Collins’s belligerent attitude in the hall, Oliver extended his hand to the man when he marched into the library. “Good afternoon, sir. I am Hawksworth. ’Tis a pleasure to meet Miss Collins’s family.”

That gentleman was a bit taken aback by Lord Hawksworth’s friendly attitude, for it was not what he’d heard upon making enquiries about the earl after receiving Mrs. Keaton’s letter. In truth, Squire Collins had been much distressed to learn that his niece had fallen into the clutches of a hardened rake—although his feelings had little to do with Emily, barely remembering her as more than a tearful waif at his brother’s and sister-in-law’s funeral, and a great deal to do with the fortune she’d inherited.

He eyed the earl speculatively, then decided there was no reason to alienate such a powerful lord. The squire was certain that all he need do was exercise his power as head of the family and he would soon have the girl away from Hawksworth and under his control. The gentleman quickly introduced himself, his wife and his children, then got down to the matter which was so urgent.

“We have only just learned of our beloved niece’s return from the Indies and hurried to bring her back to Warwickshire. We would like to greet her on her much
-
anticipated return.”

“Of course. I am certain she will be delighted. I have already sent word of your arrival. She should be here any moment. May I offer some refreshments while you wait?”

A delighted smile lit Mrs. Collins’s round face. “Oh, that would do nicely, my lord, for we were in such a hurry to arrive that we had only a paltry fare at a shabby little inn on the road.”

Mr. Collins frowned at his wife and she fell silent, a contrite look on her countenance. Mr. Roland Collins inquired about a collection of snuffboxes that were displayed on a small table in the
corner
, seemingly little interested in greeting his cousin.

Oliver scanned the faces of the group in front of him as all but Roland took their seats before the fire to await Emily. Mrs. Collins appeared to be one of those women with little to say save for parroting her husband’s views, as she presently sat with a vacant look in her eyes, her hands folded. Mr. Roland Collins was a handsome young man who appeared almost foppish, while Miss Bettina Collins was plain and inclined to the dowdy plumpness of her mother. But where the mother looked vacuous, the daughter’s intelligence was evident in lively green eyes which watched her father with what could only be described as distaste.

The arrival of the Collinses was a puzzle to Oliver. While Emily had spoken lovingly of her late Uncle Nathaniel, she’d made no mention of any English relations. In truth, Oliver had the impression she had none, or at least none with whom she wished to renew ties.

The tea tray came long before Emily. As Bedows served, Mr. Collins watched Oliver with dark, shifty eyes. Mrs. Collins’s attention was riveted on the selection of cakes and sandwiches on the silver tray, but the son seemed more interested in inspecting the contents of the room than eating as he picked up one item after another to examine. Miss Bettina sat worrying her bottom lip as if some great problem weighed upon her.

Oliver was suddenly reminded of ferrets when his gaze roved from Mr. Collins to his son as their sharp features seemed to take in everything. Clearly Emily took after her mother’s family.

At last the awaited lady entered the library. She cast a shy, yet intimate smile in Oliver’s direction before turning her gaze on her uncle. Then such a bleak look settled in her amber eyes that Oliver wanted to go to her and hold her in his arms, but he was certain she wouldn’t welcome such conduct in front of her relatives. Instead he merely said, “Miss Collins, your family has come to greet you.”

She stood stiff and unyielding as the Collinses all trooped forward to give her a welcoming kiss. Only Bettina sounded genuine when she said, “Welcome home, Cousin.”

Emily’s tone was anything but welcoming to Mr. Collins. “Uncle Joshua, you needn’t have come all the way to Somerset. I am certain we would have encountered one another in Town
...
sooner or later.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, my dear child. It’s been nearly fifteen years since we last saw you. We have worried ourselves sick about you since we received word of your Uncle Nate’s passing and you all alone in that heathen land to deal with all those financial matters of selling the plantation. Why, Roland even suggested he might come out and escort you back to England.”

The young man gave her an engaging smile. “It would have been my great honor to have rendered such a service, Cousin.” He then gave a practiced bow.

Emily’s gaze swept her young cousin, whom she remembered as a detestable brat who’d carried tales about her to Uncle Joshua during her brief stay at their home. She took in pomaded blond curls, a purple coat and red waistcoat with large gold buttons and four fobs dangling at his waist. Her opinion was that the young dandy probably couldn’t get himself across the street without help, much less out to Calcutta.

But manners won out over distaste. “As you can see, sir, there was no need for such worry. My dear Uncle Nate’s health was such in later years that I handled much of the day-to-day workings of the plantation. I am quite used to managing my own affairs.”

Joshua Collins didn’t like what he saw in his niece. This was not the same shy and frightened child of long ago. She had grown into one of those females who believed that balderdash the Wollstonecraft creature had written about. Women being able to handle their own affairs—ha!

He would have to warn Roland to go slowly or all their plans would be for naught. But at present he must cozen this foolish child into believing he agreed with her.

“Well, my dear, we are duly impressed.” The squire gave a broad grin, exposing yellowed teeth. “But now you are home, and Roland and I are fully prepared to advise you on all matters. There is nothing like a gentleman’s experience when making decisions.”

“I assure you, Uncle, there is no need.” Emily’s expression was unyielding.

Mr. Collins was at a standstill. How was he to control this stubborn miss? As his silence lengthened, his wife inadvertently aided him when she took note of the lull in conversation. Oblivious to much of the byplay between uncle and niece, she put down the sticky bun she was enjoying to timidly inquire, “My dear, I am puzzled as to why you have lingered here in Somerset when your uncle has been eagerly awaiting you in Coventry.”

“Was he?” Emily asked, doubtfully. “That seems surprising, since no one was eager for my presence so many years ago.”

With the cunning of most connivers, the squire realized what troubled his niece. The chit was still piqued about that business when only Ashton had been willing to take an orphan. Convinced he could turn her around, he stepped to her, taking her hand. In his best imitation of familial concern, he said, “Child, if my finances had been better at the time your father died, I would have welcomed you to Twin Oaks, but I was nearly in Dun Territory. Besides, that was all long ago and best forgotten. You are back with us at last, and we are most eager to hear about your life in the Indies.”

Oliver watched the play of emotion on Emily’s lovely face. Clearly there was some unhappy history between the pair, but he thought Emily needed some time to cope with meeting her family again after so many years. She seemed at a loss for words.

The earl decided to explain Emily’s extended stay at the castle. “Miss Collins has been helping my wards, whom she and Mrs. Keaton so kindly brought from Calcutta, to become established in their new home.”

The squire’s small black eyes narrowed as he looked at the earl; then he turned back to Emily. “As I remember, you always did have a kind heart, my dear. And have the children been settled to your satisfaction?”

Emily straightened defiantly. “Why, no, Uncle. Lord Hawksworth and I still must interview applicants for a governess.” Then she looked at Oliver, and her face softened to a smile.

“Very well, my dear.” Mr. Collins glared at the earl truculently. “But we have no intention of leaving Somerset without you.”

Oliver knew what was expected and manners demanded. “Then you and your family must stay at Hawk’s Lair until Miss Collins is ready to leave.” He knew it would not do to inform them that he hoped she would never depart while still Miss Collins, but until he secured her hand he would hold his peace.

Mr. Collins smiled with satisfaction. He had his foot in the door of Emily’s life. Roland would have to get to work on charming his cousin at once, for there was something in the way his niece looked at the earl that didn’t bode well for the squire’s family fortunes.

Hawksworth rang for the butler, and rooms were quickly prepared for the Collinses. The earl informed them that dinner would be served at eight; then Emily and her family left for their rooms. To his surprise, Miss Bettina Collins lingered in her seat, then came to stand beside him after her family had departed the room.

In a whispered undertone, she pleaded, “My lord, are you truly my cousin’s friend?”

Surprised, Oliver looked at the strange girl. “I hope to be more than just a friend one day, Miss Bettina.” The young lady seemed to relax a bit, then pushed a small folded note into his hand. Without another word, she hurried from the library to join her family. Curious, Oliver opened the small missive
.
I must
speak with you at once. Send a servant for me in exactly twenty minutes.

What melodramatic nonsense was this? Oliver wondered. But he was certain that it concerned Emily, and therefore he would play Miss Bettina’s little game.

The meeting of Miss Bettina Collins and Lord Hawksworth took place some twenty minutes later in the Long Gallery. Oliver knew that should they be discovered by anyone, he might use the pretext of showing the young miss the family portraits to excuse the impropriety of such a meeting.

He observed her closely as she followed Bedows down the narrow room towards him. She had changed into an ecru muslin evening gown with heavy use of Brussels lace and green ribbon at the bodice and sleeves. The garment, with three rows of ruffles at the hem, did little to flatter her full figure. He knew little of feminine apparel, but was certain that the lady would have appeared better in a simply cut dress.

Her plain face was a picture of concern as she drew to a halt, then waited for the servant to depart before breathlessly saying, “We must hurry or my father will know I have spoken to you, my lord.”

Oliver arched one brow. “What do you wish to tell me, Miss Bettina?”

She threw a nervous glance over her shoulder to make certain they were unobserved. “My father and brother mean my cousin no good, my lord.”

“Are you saying they intend her harm?” The earl’s hands drew into fists at the thought.

“Nothing like that, sir. My father would never risk his neck in such a way, and Roland gets quite ill at the least sight of blood. No, their intention is to take her back to Twin Oaks and browbeat her into marrying Roland.”

“Browbeat! Miss Collins?” Oliver threw back his head and laughed heartily.

“ Tis no laughing matter, my lord. You do not know my father. He may not be a murderer, but one very often wishes to be dead when he is giving one a devilish bad time.”

Oliver stifled his laughter, not wishing to belittle the girl’s worries. “Child, I don’t mean to take what you say lightly, but if there is anyone less likely to be browbeaten than your cousin, I am sure I do not know them. She is a lady who very much knows her own mind. Let me assure you that Miss Collins is a very sensible and capable female.”

But Bettina was not easily swayed by the earl’s assurances. “ ’
T
is plain that you admire her, sir. Yet I know my father well. He is determined to make certain that the fortune Nathaniel Ashton left his niece will not get away from him.”

“Fortune?” Oliver’s dark brows drew together. “Are you telling me Miss Emily Collins is an heiress?”

Bettina’s green eyes grew wide. “You did not know, sir, and yet you wished to marry her? It must be love, indeed. Yes, there is a fortune. My father estimates that Emily has inherited close to a hundred thousand pounds from her uncle.”

Suddenly what the young lady had been telling him took on new meaning. With such a fortune at stake, Bettina might be underestimating the drastic measures her father might employ to get his hands on such a prize.

He eyed the young lady curiously. “Why have you chosen to tell me and not your cousin?”

“I had intended to tell Emily, but it was clear to me from the outset that she views us as complete strangers. I cannot blame her, for she was shipped off to the Indies all those years ago because she was penniless, no matter what Papa may now say. Besides, I was certain a man could thwart my father’s plans much better than a lone female.”

Oliver again grew silent. He was curious why a young woman who might benefit from such a plan would be the very one to expose her father’s plot. “Why are you helping your cousin? You know her as little as she knows you.”

The young lady looked down at her gloved hands. When she looked back at the earl, there was such bitterness in her green eyes that he was startled. “My father and brother care for nothing but money. Over a year ago my brother learned that I had formed an attachment with our curate and he with me. Roland informed my father. They went to the baron who owned the living and saw to it that the kindest man I ever knew lost his position. Without my knowledge, he was told he would never be allowed to marry me and was ordered from the shire. I have not seen him since.” She gave a deep sigh as her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I do not want them to ruin Emily’s life the way they did mine.”

Miss Bettina’s motives were clear in her mind, but the earl suspected there was a bit of revenge against her family mixed with her desire to help Emily. Still, without a second thought, he asked, “What was this curate’s name?”

“Mr. Darnell Logan.” She spoke the name with reverence.

The earl’s primary concern was for Emily at the moment, but after the service this plain young lady had rendered him, he was determined to see if he could find her curate for her. He leaned over and gave the girl a kiss on the cheek. “You have done your cousin a great service by telling me all this, Miss Bettina. I shall be certain to tell her about it some day after she is my bride. Do not give up hope of your curate. Now hurry along to the Blue Drawing Room and I shall see you there later.”

Oliver watched as the girl hurried back up the Long Gallery. He knew he mustn’t delay. Joshua Collins had dubious intentions which threatened the welfare of the woman he loved, and Oliver fully intended to stop him. He would propose to Emily this very night and secure his position to protect her. With that he strode purposefully towards the Blue Drawing Room.

But the earl had not reckoned with the tenacity of Mr. Collins and his son. The two gentlemen had positioned themselves on either side of Emily as she waited for the others to arrive. It was as if they’d formed a guard around their young relative to prevent her from having private conversation with any save themselves. To all observers, the gentlemen appeared rapt and interested in all Emily had to say of her fifteen years in the Indies, but for Oliver their every move appeared calculated to keep him from her.

It wasn’t until after dinner, when the countess announced that she wished to speak with Oliver in the library about the children, that everyone began to say their good nights and the earl got his chance. He was at last able to secure Emily’s hand in a private moment, only to be frustrated by his grandmother’s summons. He knew that he would be unable to speak with Emily that evening. So in a soft tone for her ears only, he asked, “Might I have a word with you in the library at nine on the morrow?”

The lady smiled and nodded her head before her hovering relations drew her upstairs with them. Oliver bade Sir Ethan good night, apologizing for such an early evening, but the gentleman was understanding, saying he could use a good night’s rest before he strode off up the stairs.

The earl’s gaze followed Emily until she disappeared from sight. A part of him wanted to go to her private parlor and lay his heart at her feet, but his grandmother’s words echoed in his head—that there must be no hint of impropriety to mar his proposal of marriage since his reputation was already so tainted. He would wait until the morrow.

When the sounds of his guests’ footsteps had faded, he joined his grandmother in the library. Closing the door, he turned and inquired, “Is there a problem with the children, madam?”

“How soon before you are able to hire a governess?” the old lady asked impatiently from her seat before the fire.

The earl moved to stand at the mantel. “I have been expecting the agency to send applicants any day. Is there suddenly some hurry?”