The Reluctant Earl (16 page)

Simon followed his new father-in-law out of the stable, his head in a whirl.  All he wanted to do right now was grab Claire’s hand and hold it tight.  It would be all right, he assured himself as he walked beside Liam up the path to the cottage.  As long as he had Claire he could face anything.  His teeth clenched; even his stepmother.         

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The Earl of Welbourne’s funeral was the largest event in the surrounding area since his marriage twenty years before.  Over fifty coaches, all draped in black and carrying half the members of the Jockey Club, as well as noble friends of the earl from London, formed the funeral procession to the church.  Simon sat in the first coach with Claire, Elise and Liam.  Liam had wanted Elise to go without him.  “You’re the daughter of the Comte de Sevigny,” he had said.  “You’re the one who gives status to Claire – not her horse trainer father.  It’s best for me to remain out of sight.”

“Claire is not ashamed of you.  I am not ashamed of you.  Simon wants you.  You must come.”  Elise, who rarely disagreed with her husband, had been adamant, and so he had joined his family in the coach.  

The earl’s widow, who was riding in the second coach with Charlie, had refused to lift a finger to arrange the funeral reception.  This was not because she was overcome by grief; the fact is, she was furious.  “I will never forgive him for this,” she said as she stood with Claire and Simon watching as the earl’s coffin was carried to the black draped hearse.  “To grab a gun and go out to shoot a poacher by himself!  It was just like him, though.  He always thought he could do anything he wanted to.  Stupid man.”

Simon and Claire exchanged a look at the dowager’s comment, and Simon’s mouth twitched.  Claire had to look away so she wouldn’t giggle. 

The dowager rounded on Simon.  “I am not going to live in the Dower House,” she announced, her pale eyes narrow with temper.  “I am too young to shut myself away from life in the country.  I want to live in the London house.”

“We can certainly discuss that,” Simon said in his mildest manner. 

Claire thought she could see the smoke rising from the dowager’s head, she was so angry.  “I would kill him for this if he wasn’t already dead,” she said.

Simon’s mouth twitched again and Claire coughed into her hand.  They were as pleased by the earl’s death as his wife was furious, but, unlike the dowager, they were trying to maintain a decorous manner.

The funeral service was impressive, with the president and vice president of the Jockey Club giving ardent eulogies about Welbourne’s contribution to English racing.  When all of the mourners had filed out of the church, their coaches wended their way back to the abbey for the funeral reception Elise had organized.

This last week Claire had been hugely grateful for her mother.  Elise may have been only fifteen when she fled France for Ireland, but she had been reared to be the wife of a great noble, and she knew how to deal with a large house filled with servants.  It didn’t take long for her to enlist Carstairs and Mrs. Willis as her loyal deputies.  Like Claire, they were extremely relieved to discover that someone in the family knew how things should be done. 

The house was draped in black when the carriages returned from the service, and the window drapes were drawn.  There was more food than Claire had ever seen in her life, and footmen walked through the crowd with trays of wine.        Claire thought that Simon was magnificent.  Grave and beautiful, he stood beside Claire accepting condolences from his father’s friends and distant family members he had never known existed.  Claire, who knew how overwhelmed he was feeling, did her best to support him.  She called upon all she had learned from Charlotte’s governess, stood straight as a lance, and replied to the condolences with the graciousness of a seasoned hostess. 

#   #   #

Elise felt it was her duty to mingle with the guests.  She understood perfectly how closed an aristocratic circle could be, and she wanted to establish Claire’s credentials for admittance.  Elise was still beautiful, had a delightful French accent, and was a member of what had been one of the most closed aristocracies in the world.  She had been reared to charm, and she had enough sense to exert that charm on the women, not the men.  Women were the ones who ruled Society.

Though she didn’t tell him, Elise was worried that Liam would find himself isolated in this kind of company.  With Claire and Simon receiving, and herself circulating, he was left on his own.  So she kept an eye on him, and was both surprised and pleased to see that he appeared to be the most popular person in the place.  Jockey Club members surrounded him from the time they arrived until the time their carriages pulled away down the drive, leaving the family tired but relieved that everything had gone well.

#   #   #

Simon and Claire went to bed early.  They had not yet moved into the earl’s bedroom suite.  The widow had made no mention of moving out, and Claire assured Simon she was perfectly happy in one of the guest bedrooms.  In fact, she liked it much better than she thought she would like the bedroom where Simon’s father and his wife had slept.

Simon was in bed first and Claire joined him, snuggling her head into his shoulder.  His arm closed around her.  He said, “Just think, one month ago you and I thought we might have to wait three years to be married.”

“I know.  She turned her head to kiss his jaw.  “I always knew we were meant to be together.”

“Do you know, I never really thought I would be the earl?  I knew I was the heir, of course, but I just never believed it would happen.”

“Did you think your horrible father was immortal?”

He laughed.  “Perhaps I did.”

“I wish I could give that poacher a reward,” Claire said.

“He did get away.”

“Good.”

“Thank God my stepmother doesn’t want to live in the Dower House.  It’s only half a mile away from here!”

“Will you let her live in the London house?”

“I’ll let her live anywhere except near us.”

“Amen,” she said fervently.

He let out a long breath.  “I had a long talk with Uncle Richard after you went to bed last night.  He’s going to help me.  He said not to worry about money, he would make certain Welbourne was in good financial shape.”

“I pray for Uncle Richard all the time,” she said.  “If it wasn’t for him, and the trust fund, we wouldn’t have been able to marry.”

“I would have found some way,” he said fiercely.

She arched her neck to smile up at him. 

“Are you too tired?” he asked softly.

She knew that look in his eyes.  “I am never too tired for you,” she said turning toward him.

“I love you so much, Claire.  I’ll never get tired of saying how much I love you.”

“And I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

He gave a little groan and lowered his mouth to hers.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

One Year Later

The huge front lawn of Welbourne Abbey was crowded with a throng of men, women and boisterous children, all of them socializing around four large blue and white striped tents. Targets for archery had been set up in a corner of the lawn near a plantation of elms, and two cricket fields were laid out on the south lawn.  The great Welbourne coach, drawn by four magnificent bay horses, was offering rides around the estate, and several farm wagons were transporting eager parents and children to the artificial lake, where boats were available.  An orchestra set up in front of the abbey was playing lively music to accompany the festivities.

The Earl and Countess of Welbourne had invited their tenants and their friends from the neighborhood to celebrate the birth of their first son.  The day was sunny and beautiful, and a radiant countess carried her month-old baby from group to group, showing him off.  A number of the tenants commented among themselves that the young earl looked scarcely less radiant than his wife.  To finish the picture, an exuberant Charlie hung off of Simon’s hand, calling greetings to the tenant children he knew.

“God bless them all,” Mrs. Thornton said to her husband, as they watched the procession of earl, countess, baby and Charlie around the grounds.  “What a blessing it is that the old earl got shot.”

Mr. Thomas looked around quickly, then spoke in a carefully lowered voice.  “That might be true, Betsy, but it don’t do to say it out loud like that.”

“Nonsense,” his wife returned forthrightly.  “There’s no a tenant farmer here who wouldn’t agree.  The young earl actually
cares
about us.  He’s fixed all the houses and he even built the Masons a new barn when theirs collapsed.”

Farmer Thornton gazed fondly toward the young couple as they made their way back toward the house.  “’Tis true, ‘tis true.  He’s a fine young man, the new earl.  And his wife is verra kind.”  He grinned at his wife and said, “And verra pretty too.”

She patted his arm and laughed.

#   #   #

Claire was delighted that the baby had behaved so beautifully, smiling and cooing at his admiring audiences.  When at last he started to fuss she said to Simon, “I’m going to take William back to the house and feed him.  He’s had enough company for today.”

“He’s been a trooper,” his proud father said.  “Charlie and I will continue to circulate.”

“I’ll come back after William is asleep.”

“You don’t have to come back, Claire.”  A faint frown puckered the skin between his eyebrows.  “You must be tired.”

Claire shifted the baby from one shoulder to the other.  “Simon, I had a baby, not an accident.  I’m perfectly fine.  I’ll come back.”

“At least let me carry him upstairs for you.”

“No.  Stay here. I will be fine.”

There was a pause, then he said,  “I’m annoying you, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are.  Look, here are Mr. and Mrs. Smithfield coming to talk to you.”  She turned away, saying over her shoulder, “I’ll see you later.”

Charlotte joined Claire at the abbey’s front door.  “May I come with you?  Bruce Hendricks is pursuing me, and I can’t stand him.  But he’s Geoffrey’s friend and I mustn’t be rude.”

Claire smiled.  “Come along.  We can talk while I feed William.”

“Thank you,” Charlotte said feelingly, and Claire chuckled.

#   #   #

Out on the lawn, and on the lake, the picnic continued.  At four o’clock a lavish tea was served in the tents, with lemonade and ices for the children.  At six o’clock the farmers began to leave for home to milk their cows, and the upper classes followed shortly afterward.  The house servants had been busy all day, and Claire had given orders to a grateful staff that the family would require only a light supper that evening.

The immediate family, who had all helped with the picnic, gathered in the small drawing room after supper, a little tired, a little sunburned, but satisfied that the day had been a success.

Claire had excused everyone from dressing for dinner, but that was the only difference between the usual nightly gathering in the small sitting room and tonight.  Claire was in her favorite place on the striped silk sofa, and Simon sat in his usual place beside her. 

As she sipped her hot tea slowly, looking at the familiar, beloved faces around her, she thought of Charlie, safely tucked upstairs with his nanny.  He had had such a good time today, running around with a group of little boys his age.  Simon had been given custody of Charlie because he was the boy’s closest male relative, but he allowed Charlie to visit his mother whenever the dowager wanted him.  Of late, his visits were becoming fewer and shorter, which suited Charlie just fine.   

The rest of the family were chatting comfortably, Liam and Elise sitting on the sofa opposite Claire’s, and Uncle Richard in one of the large wingchairs facing the fire.  Liam and Elise had moved into the abbey with Claire and Simon shortly after the earl’s funeral.  It was to have been a temporary arrangement, so Elise could help Claire with the new duties that had fallen upon her young shoulders.  But it had worked out so well that Claire and Simon had begged them to stay.  Elise, who understood how much her daughter relied on her, had convinced Liam to accept.

Richard Jarvis, though he didn’t live at the abbey, was a most welcome member of their little family.  He had been an enormous help to Simon.  Jarvis had paid off the earl’s gaming debts himself, and he had allowed Simon to access the trust fund money to make long overdue repairs to estate property.  Simon, Jarvis, and Halleck, the estate agent, had worked out a financial plan for the future that would allow Welbourne to be both responsible and solvent.  The first year of Simon’s tenure had been busy and difficult, but rewarding.

#   #   #

Claire listened to the conversation going on around her and tried not to yawn.  She was tired, but determined not to let Simon know.  He did know, of course - he could read her like a book - but she wasn’t going to admit it. 

She had had a long, hard labor, and Simon had been terrified he was going to lose her.  Elise had been with her the whole time, assuring her that everything was normal, that first babies were often long in coming, and Claire had soldiered through with clenched teeth, refusing to scream because she knew Simon would hear her.  She had almost recovered her strength, but the strain of being gracious to so many people all at once had fatigued her.  She knew all their tenants, knew their children and the names of their dogs, but facing them all together at the same time had been tiring.

She was stifling another yawn when something Jarvis was saying penetrated the fogginess of her brain.

“I’m going to Ireland in two weeks, Simon,” she heard.  “I want to visit Annabelle’s grave.  It’s something I’ve always meant to do, and I’ve put it off for far too long.  I wondered if you might care to come with me.”

Claire felt Simon’s relaxed body come to attention.  “Yes,” he said, and she could hear the eagerness in his voice.  “I would like to come.  I would like that very much.”