Never Entice an Earl (25 page)

Lady Champdeer, Cormack’s mother, looked back at her with tear-filled eyes. “Oh, my
dear girl—” She rushed forward to enfold Daphne in her arms.

Relief washed over Daphne, and she exhaled, pressing her cheek against that of the
woman whom she fully believed would become a second mother to her. Across the room,
Fox and Claxton observed quietly, with Fox throwing her a reassuring wink and a smile.

Still holding Daphne tightly, Lady Champdeer said to her son, “I’m so glad you’ve
come home. The both of you.”

And yet, his father, the marquess, stood silent and unmoving behind her.

Michael slipped off his stool, book in hand, to reach for Daphne. “No cry, lady. Noooo.”

She picked him up, unable to resist the promise of his snuggly warmth, and lifted
him to perch between herself and the countess. “I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m
crying because I’m so very happy to meet everyone, but most especially you.” He kissed
her on the cheek with a wet open mouth, causing her and his grandmother both to laugh
in delight. And to cry more tears.

Lady Champdeer reached into her pocket for a handkerchief—not one, but two. “One for
myself, and one for you as well.”

She handed it over to Daphne, and before releasing her from their close embrace, she
affectionately squeezed her hand tight.

“What an unexpected but welcome surprise.” The marquess’s countenance broke, no longer
inscrutable, but infused with warmth and emotion, and he strode toward Cormack to
pull him into an embrace. They stood there a long moment in silence, until Cormack
broke away.

“Father, I know this changes everything for us.”

“You refer of course to the agreement with Sir Snaith.” The older man shook his head.
“How can I have allowed you to take on such a burden? A burden that should have been
mine alone.” He looked at Daphne. “He has told you the truth, I hope, that I am to
blame for the loss of the lands that surround this home. I have always had what his
mother calls a fanciful mind. I take keen interest in science, and experimentation
of nature, and of late, with the conduction of electricity. But my interests and hopes
for the future led me to make several unwise investments. My son…my capable and prideful
son, tried to repair the mess I had made.”

“We are family,” Cormack uttered in a thick voice. “It is what family does. And I
regret deeply that I cannot follow through in bringing about their return, but I’ve
been unable to arrive at any alternative.”

“Oh, my son!” Lady Champdeer exclaimed. “There is nothing to regret. Your face confesses
everything. You love her.”

“I do.”

“Then I do as well! Your happiness is far more important to us than any patch of dirt.”

Cormack’s father smiled, looking between them both, his eyes aglow. “So release yourself
from this obligation, one that ought never to have been placed upon you. Marry this
young lady. Love her. Give me more grandchildren, because—” He chuckled. “Heaven knows
this one needs distraction.”

At that moment, Jessup the butler, the sparkly-eyed old fellow Daphne had been introduced
to moments before, lumbered in carrying a tray of glasses and a crystal decanter.
“My lord, I thought a celebratory toast might be in order.”

“Indeed!” exclaimed the marquess. “Gather around, and I shall pour.”

Glasses were passed out to everyone, including Jessup. There was also a miniature
tin cup for Michael filled with milk. Everyone save for Fox, who remained behind as
Claxton crossed the room.

Cormack called out to him. “Havering, are you coming?”

Yet Havering stared transfixed at the portrait of a young woman on the wall. A woman
Daphne could only assume to be Cormack’s sister, Laura.

“Fox…what are you doing?” she said.

Fox turned from the portrait, his face ashen. “I…I know this young lady. Her name
is Miss Picard.”

Lady Champdeer lifted a hand to her lips. “Picard was my maiden name. My daughter
used it in her employment.” She looked between her son and her husband.

Cormack straightened, and took several steps toward him. “Havering? How did you know
my sister?”

Havering’s gaze, hazed by a sudden wash of tears, settled on the child. “And that
is her…son?” He came forward to peer at the child, still in Daphne’s arms, gently
lifting the boy’s face to peer into his.

“It is.” Everything about Cormack’s demeanor changed. His jaw grew rigid, and his
spine appeared to bristle.

“My God. I have made a terrible mistake. I should have searched longer. Been more
diligent in carrying through. It’s just that when I found out she’d died—”

“Havering,” Cormack said softly. “Are you a member of the Invisibilis?”

“No,” Havering said, meeting his gaze directly.

“Then what, Fox?” Daphne asked in a whisper.

“But at one time I was. It all started when we were just boys in school. Everyone
was in some sort of club. Invisibilis was ours.”

Lady Champdeer gasped, and her husband gripped her shoulder. Claxton’s scowl deepened
to black.

Cormack glanced to Daphne, thunder rising to his eyes.

“Let him explain,” she whispered. “Please, Cormack.”

Cormack confronted Fox. “Tell me now, are you the father of my sister’s child?”

Silence held the room, as everyone waited for his response.

“Daphne, look at the boy,” Havering answered. “Is there any question to whom he belongs?”

Daphne stared down at the little child clinging to her skirts, raising his book high
in his hand. At the large, dark eyes, and raven’s-wing hair. She had seen portraits
of a similar boy, only her mind had not recognized the similarities until now, with
Fox’s gentle encouragement.

“Vinson,” she whispered, her eyes welling with tears. “This little boy is my brother’s
child.”

Just then, they heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor. Lady Harwick entered,
along with Clarissa and Mr. Birch.

She offered no greeting. Instead she stood very still, the blood draining from her
face, and she swayed. Mr. Birch stepped forward to steady her. But she gently pushed
free of him and entered the room, one slow step at a time, as tears gathered in her
eyes.

“Oh, Daphne. Fox. Is it true?”

She stood in front of Michael, who stood pressed into Lady Champdeer’s skirts, and
her mouth took on a tentative smile.

“May I see him?”

“Of course.”

She lifted him into her arms and stared into his eyes. “Of course he is Vinson’s.
He is the most beautiful child. Havering, please explain how this came to be.” A tear
fell down her cheek. “How we did not know. But first, Daphne, please tell me you are
unharmed. I simply could not wait in town, and the innkeeper directed us here.”

“I am not.”

“Thank heavens. How did you come to be here? The butler explained this is the home
of Lord Raikes.”

“Mother, I am betrothed to Lord Raikes.”

“Lord Raikes?”
Her mother clasped the child against her breast. “If I do not sit, I think I would
faint.”

Mr. Birch stepped forward to support her with his gloved hand. “Why don’t you sit.
This has all come as a shock.”

Daphne stood, touching a hand to the top of Michael’s head. “Fox, you must explain
how this came to be. Laura and my brother?”

“Vinson and I were inducted into the Invisibilis when we were boys, away at university.
But after school, some of us grew up. Some did not. Our interests changed. Still,
he and I agreed to attend a so-called Gathering of the Ages at the hunting lodge of
the Duke of Rathcrispin, largely for old time’s sake. Rathcrispin’s sons were members.
Once there, we wished we weren’t. The other members were still just the same way they
had always been, concerned only with indulging in any form of debauchery. Vinson and
I entertained ourselves actually hunting, if you can imagine that. It was then we
met your sister, where the duke’s property joined that of the Deavalls’. She had three
little boys with her, and one of their kites had got stuck in a tree, which resulted
in Miss Picard becoming stuck in the tree. Your brother climbed up, and managed to
safely carry her down.”

“And then Vinson seduced her,” growled Cormack.

Lady Margaretta’s head dipped, and Daphne bit her lower lip to keep from crying out.
“My brother
would not have
…he was the most honorable man.”

“That’s such an ugly word,” Havering answered softly. “And I know you are angry, and
hurting, but I won’t let you disparage the memory of the man who was, and who will
always be, my best friend. He and your sister fell in love. Much like you and Miss
Bevington have done.”

Cormack’s gaze flashed. “If he loved her, he would have married her, and this child
would not be without a proper name.”

“That’s just the thing, Raikes. He did marry her.”

Lady Champdeer rushed to her husband’s side, and he wrapped a protective arm around
her.

“No,” interjected Lord Champdeer. “She would have told us. She said nothing of a husband.”

“I think, sadly, because after his death, she could not produce the necessary proof.”
Havering withdrew a leather case from his chest pocket, and sorted through the contents
a moment before withdrawing a folded piece of parchment. “But here it is. Vinson carried
it with him every moment on the voyage, you see. The night before he died, he revealed
to me that he had married Miss Picard. I was so shocked. We did not keep secrets from
each other, but then again, neither of us had ever been in love before, and I think…well,
I think they both wished to keep it a private matter until they could do things right,
and inform the families together.”

Lady Champdeer cried into her handkerchief quietly. Lady Margaretta covered her mouth
with her gloved hand.

“Upon his return, he intended to do everything correctly, as he put it, and meet her
family, and gift her with a proper wedding day. But that night, as if he foretold
his own death, he told me if anything should happen to him I should deliver this to
his wife, so she could go to his family, and they would know her as his wife and embrace
her as a member of their family.”

“What happened then?” Cormack demanded hoarsely.

“He died, of course,” Fox answered in a quiet voice. “And when I found this among
his belongings the document had been half destroyed by dampness, with all the details
blurred beyond legibility. The moment I disembarked after returning home, I journeyed
to the church where they had married, thinking to restore the necessary portions of
the document and deliver the terrible news to Miss Picard—a woman I knew in truth
to be Mrs. Bevington, the wife of my dearest friend.”

Cormack’s mother and father clasped hands, she sighing heavily.

“Go on, young man,” urged His Lordship.

“However, while at the church, the young woman there told me her father, the parson,
had recently succumbed to the curse of dementia. Given his habit for performing secret
and sometimes unadvisable marriages, and her father writing in his own peculiar shorthand,
this had caused her some difficulty in later producing accurate records and verifying
details. She also told me that months before, a young woman she recognized as Miss
Picard arrived at the parsonage, asking to see one of the ledgers. The young lady
was visibly distraught, having learned from a newspaper of the drowning of her husband.
The daughter, wishing to give her privacy in her moment of grief, left the parsonage
to do a bit of shopping, and returned only to see the young lady leave again in tears.
Only months later, when she realized her father was suffering periods of confusion
and increasingly telling parishoners he had no recollection of them, did she realize
what might have transpired. Only when she went to the Deavall estate to inquire about
Miss Picard, she was told the young lady had left their employ and subsequently died.
After she repaired the document that I presented to her, I…traveled there myself and
they confirmed the tragic news.”

“Why did you never tell the families?” asked Lady Margaretta, her eyes wide and pleading.

“You were already so consumed by your grief, as I assumed Miss Picard’s family to
be grieving as well. I made the decision not to increase the tragedy tenfold by revealing
such sad details. Only now I am so sorry. I had no idea there was a child. I shall
forever try to make it up to little Michael. I made a grievous mistake.”

Daphne looked at Cormack, who stared at his sister’s portrait. She could not discern
what emotions he felt, which was strange, being that from the first moment it seemed
she’d been able to read him like a book.

“No, Havering,” Cormack answered softly. “As much as I would have liked things to
turn out differently, I can find no fault or malice in your actions. At last, you
have put Laura’s spirit to rest.”

“Yes,” cried Lady Champdeer. “You can’t know how much hearing this account means to
us. My dear daughter. How I would have wished to have known Vinson. She loved him
that much, I believe, that she would hold her silence rather than cast aspersions
on his name after his death. Now, at last, you have given Michael his proper name.”

“And, Havering, you have given me the greatest gift.” Lady Margaretta kissed the now-sleeping
boy in her arms. “A piece of my son, and his dear father through him, that lives on.”

“Grandfather will be beside himself with joy,” cried Clarissa, rushing forward to
embrace her mother and the child. “Mr. Kincraig? Perhaps not so much.”

Havering exhaled with relief, his cheeks flushed. “Actually, I think he will be…relieved.”

Daphne’s mother stood, passing the child to his other grandmother. “And now instead
of a debut ball, we shall surprise everyone with a wedding celebration. Lord Raikes.”
She extended her arms to him. “I am shocked, of course, but could not be more pleased.
I can think of no gentleman whom I would rather embrace as a son.”

“Ahem,” interrupted Claxton.

“Except for Claxton,” she exuded, “who has made my dear Sophia the happiest expectant
mother on earth.”