Luke had come to Gosling Park, looking for something—someone. But she wasn’t here, and he’d been blindsided to find Lydia instead. He was still reeling from that unhappy discovery when he made his way to the dining hall that night. More disturbing than stumbling upon Lydia was Robert’s reaction to his wife. If Luke wasn’t mistaken, his rigid and humorless brother was actually besotted with the little tart.
That was very interesting, indeed.
Luke had known Robert all his life. He had watched his older brother perform his duties without complaint and live up to the standards society expected of him. And over the years, Luke had come to believe certain things about Robert. One was that his upstanding brother always did the right thing. Another was that watching a patch of grass grow was more exciting than boring, old Robert. From the earliest of ages, Luke had decided against following in his older brother’s high moral footsteps—life was to be enjoyed, not endured.
That night as Luke sat in the dining hall at Gosling Park, he discovered something else about his brother, something he’d never realized before: Robert was a giant fool. How was it that he’d known his brother for more than thirty years and he was just now seeing that Robert was such a dim-witted dolt?
It was nauseating to see his brother continually cast mooncalf gazes across the table to his wife. And it was equally disturbing to watch the earl and countess laugh together like a pair of featherbrained love birds.
What the devil was going on here?
He cringed when Lydia giggled at some ridiculous thing Robert said, blushing to the roots of her reddish blond hair. Luke narrowed his eyes on his sister-in-law. Somehow this deceitful, little witch had cast some sort of spell on Robert. That was the only explanation that made any sense, because the man sitting at the head of this table was a complete stranger to Luke. Though he looked like Robert, there was no way that man was his brother.
He vaguely heard something about a dinner party that he would be expected to attend a few nights away, but nothing much registered as he contemplated the situation at hand. He was too stunned by the unfathomable change that had come over his brother to focus on much conversation. A week ago if someone had told him that it was possible for Robert—Robert of all people—to fall helplessly in love with his scandalous wife, Luke would have laughed until he passed out.
What game was Lydia playing with his brother? How had she ensnared him? He’d come to Dorset for a different purpose, but Luke was determined not to leave until his questions were answered.
When Lydia awoke, she was still wrapped in Robert’s arms. She sighed joyfully and kissed his sculpted chest. How had life turned out so well for her? Robert tightened his embrace and Lydia giggled as she tried to squirm from his grasp. “Let me go, you beast. You’re crushing me.”
“Am I?” he whispered in her ear. “And here I thought you wanted to wake up in my arms. In fact, I’m still lying here—hours after I would normally be gone, mind you—to honor your wishes, my dear wife.”
Lydia rose up and brushed her lips against her husband’s. “I don’t deserve you, Robert.”
“Oh, my love, you deserve all this and more. Now, I believe there was the little matter of ravishing you in the morning, wasn’t there?”
Where the devil is Robert?
Luke frowned down at the cooling baked eggs on the plate in front of him. He’d wanted to talk to his brother ever since dinner the night before. At first he thought he could grab Robert’s ear during after-dinner port, but his brother had done away with that formality, saying something inane about not wanting Lydia to be left alone.
Robert always has after-dinner port.
True, Luke hadn’t dined with his brother in well over a year, but some things never changed. Some people always stood on ceremony. Robert was one of those people. He was staid and as dependable as the sun rising every morning or the rain coming every English spring.
And another thing, Robert is always up at the crack of dawn.
Luke looked down again at his pocket watch. It was well past noon already, nearly one o’clock. Where the devil was the always dependable Earl of Masten? It was certainly not like his brother to keep Town hours in Dorset, or to keep Town hours in Town for that matter.
Just then, the doors opened and a giddy Lydia and a very satisfied looking Robert strolled into the breakfast room.
Damn!
Luke frowned. Would he ever get his brother alone? Did Lydia know he was on to her? Was she purposely keeping Robert from him? Judging from the well-pleased look on his brother’s face, she was doing an excellent job of keeping him occupied.
“Oh, morning, Luke.” Robert tipped his head toward his brother and then began to fill his plate from the sideboard.
“Morning? A little late for that, brother.”
Robert smirked good-naturedly. Good naturedly! Robert is never good natured. Never! Luke scowled in response.
Robert took a seat across from his brother and started to slice up his sausages. “I’m headed to the stables today, Luke. Would you care to join me?”
“Of course,” he responded casually and breathed a sigh of relief. This was the opportunity to talk with Robert that he’d been looking for. “By the way, are you still interested in Haywood’s stud?”
That immediately got Robert’s attention, and he pushed his plate away. “You mean Devil’s Inferno?”
Luke nodded. “The old boy’s run into a bit of financial trouble. I wouldn’t be surprised if you could actually get him to part with the animal. Haywood doesn’t care about horse flesh the same way his father did.”
With a sly grin, Robert nodded appreciatively. “Good to know. Thank you.”
Lydia slid into a seat next to Robert but refused to meet Luke’s gaze. She added some sugar and milk to her coffee and then sipped it tentatively. If one didn’t know better, they would think the Countess of Masten was a picture of grace and propriety. But they would be wrong.
As Luke stuffed a piece of dry toast into his mouth and reached for his cup, he heard the most bizarre combination of sounds—first a high pitched squeal that could have shattered one’s ears, and then several pairs of heeled boots running down the corridor in front of the breakfast room. He nearly choked from the surprise and spilled his tepid coffee onto his plate, which splashed into his lap. Honestly, this trip to Gosling Park had been murder on his wardrobe.
Lydia knew that squeal. She smiled gleefully and jumped up from her chair. Quickly, she threw open the breakfast room doors and nearly ran into a small entourage led by Dunsley, then Peter, Penny, Mrs. Norris, Robert’s irritable valet Kistler, and a mousy young lady that Lydia took to be the new governess.
The composed butler stepped aside when he saw Lady Masten’s expectant expression. Eyes dancing and smiling widely, Lydia bent down to catch Penny as the child hurled herself into her arms, her skirts flying around her. “Penny! I’m so glad to see you.”
The little girl held tight to Lydia’s neck with a childish exuberance that was contagious. “It took forever to get ‘ere, m’lady.”
“I know it was a long ride.” Lydia kissed the girl’s cheek. “Did you enjoy it?”
“Petey got sick all over the floor and we ‘ad to stop. It was awful, but not me. I didn’t get sick.”
Petey was now standing in front of the mousy looking young woman with light brown hair pulled into a tight knot. She had intelligent, brown eyes that hid behind wire-rimmed glasses, and she seemed quite capable, if someone could make rash judgments based on first impressions.
The boy blushed from head to toe when his sister mentioned his weak stomach. So, Lydia tapped Penny’s nose with her finger. “You mustn’t embarrass your brother, Penny. He’s taken such good care of you.”
Penny pulled back from Lydia to look at the earl. She met Robert’s eyes and whispered excitedly to Lydia, “I didn’t think ‘e was gonna be ‘ere.”
Robert chuckled and bent down to tousle the child’s hair. “Well, Miss Penny, there’s been a chang
e of plans. Hope you don’t mind, but from now on we’ll all be together here at Gosling Park.”
Penny nodded happily, and the scene touched Lydia’s heart. She was so thankful that Robert had agreed to support the children. Without his help, the two orphans would still be living alone in the dirt and filth of London’s streets.
Lydia was distracted from her reverie when Penny looked up at Luke and asked boldly, “And ‘oo are you? Are you livin’ ‘ere too?”
Hesitantly, Lydia stood and gestured to her brother-in-law with an air of formality. “This is Lord Masten’s brother, Mr. Beckford. He’s staying only a few days.” Then she met Luke’s eyes briefly. “This is Peter and Penny Harris. They’re Masten’s ward.”
Luke’s brow shot upward, then he stared incredulously at his brother. “You have wards?”
“It’s a long story, Luke.” Robert smirked and then nodded to Peter. “Mr. Beckford and I are going down to the stables today. You’ll come with us.”
It wasn’t a question. Peter turned an ashen grey color while Lydia stared with annoyance at her husband. The man knew very well the boy was terrified of horses. “Robert.” Her tone was quiet though it held a warning.
But he held up his hand to stave off her complaint. “Are these children my wards, Lydia?”
The overbearing ass. How could the man be so tender and loving one moment and then controlling and unwavering the next? Lydia narrowed her eyes on her husband and crossed her arms over her chest. But the man she was looking at was not her kind and caring husband. Instead, he was the arrogant Lord Masten she’d battled in London. “Of course they are,” she bit out tightly.
“Then I will decide what is best for them.” Robert then directed his gaze to the young governess, standing behind Peter. “You must be Miss Mitford.”
She dropped a curtsey and smiled shyly. “Yes, my lord.”
“Lady Staveley has great confidence in your abilities, Miss Mitford. I expect you won’t disappoint me. Tomorrow morning you will stop by my study and we’ll go over the children’s curriculum.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Lydia glared at her husband. Wasn’t this an eye opening morning—or afternoon, rather? Did Robert think he would behave this way when they had their own children? That he could run roughshod over her and bully her to get his way? She couldn’t challenge him now, not with the audience they had assembled before them. But very soon she would have her say, and they would come to an understanding.
Robert continued to address the governess. “Dunsley will see you and the children to the schoolroom and then to your chambers.”
“Thank you, Lord Masten.”
As Miss Mitford, Mrs. Norris, and the children followed Dunsley down the hallway, Lydia noticed that the governess eyed Luke with slight trepidation and then smiled weakly at him. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course the governess smiled at Luke—every red-blooded woman smiled at Luke, up until he destroyed them.
Robert called after the boy. “Peter, I’ll expect you on the front lawn in ten minutes.”
Stoically, the boy nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Kistler let his disapproving gaze drift from Robert to Luke and back. He tsked softly with a shake of his head and then slipped away down a back corridor.
Then they were alone—well except for Luke, who seemed inordinately interested in the whole situation. “When did you acquire wards, Robert?”
Lydia cast a dismissive eye on her brother-in-law. “Mr. Beckford, please excuse us, will you?”
With a curt nod Luke retreated down the corridor, and Lydia was left staring at her unrelenting husband. He shook his head determinedly. “I know what you’re going to say, and you can save it, Lydia.”
“Do you? Do you really know what I’m going to say?” Lydia seethed. With her hands placed firmly on her hips, she stalked toward him.
“Do you or do you not trust me, darling?” he drawled.
Blast him for being so calm!
“I am so angry with you right now, Robert. You know very well that child is afraid of horses. He hasn’t even been at Gosling Park for five minutes and the first thing you do is drag him off to the stables!”
Robert stepped toward Lydia and brushed his hand across her cheek. “I know you’re upset, but I would never let the boy come to harm. You’re going to have to trust me.”
Lydia pushed away and turned her back on him, pondering his words. She did trust him, of course. But this overbearing attitude of his was another matter.
“The boy is going to grow up in the country. He can’t be afraid of horses and he can’t be coddled. Someday he’ll be a man. It’s best if we tackle this problem right here and now.”
Was he right? Lydia wasn’t sure. She knew next to nothing about little boys. Her cousins Liam and Morgan were both fearless—though they had always been safely protected by their parents and hadn’t been raised on the dangerous streets of London. So perhaps Robert was right about how to deal with Peter and his fears. And then again, perhaps not. What did Robert even know about children? In any case, he still should have conferred with her before making grand pronouncements.
She would not tolerate his high-handed treatment of her, and he’d best know it. Slowly, she turned back to look at him. “Later, you and I need to have a long conversation about the raising of our children, Robert. You will not continue to make decisions without bothering to consult me.”
Robert scowled. “I’m not accustomed to answering to anyone, Lydia.”
She threw her head back and brushed past him. “Our children will be reared by both their father and their mother. Its best you grow accustomed to the idea.”
At the appointed time, Robert met Luke and Peter on the front lawn. The boy looked like he might cast up the rest of his lunch right there. Maybe Lydia was right. Maybe he should have eased the boy into dealing with horses.
No, I don’t believe that.
As soon as Peter realized there was nothing to be afraid of, the easier time the child would have of it. Besides, no ward of his would harbor a fear of horses—that was simply ridiculous.
He took the boy’s hand in his and started off for the stables. It was a beautiful day in Dorset. The azure sky was sprinkled with big, white, puffy clouds, and the cheerful song of a nearby skylark filled the air. There was no place like Gosling Park, and now that Lydia and the children were there, Robert didn’t think he’d ever have to leave again.
Lydia.
He hadn’t meant to make her angry. He hated it when she was angry, and he particularly hated it when she was angry with him. So, his wife wanted to be consulted in matters involving the children. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Lydia was no shrinking violet. This was a woman who had relieved a London footpad of his pint-sized accomplices, kept her head high even during a vicious attack from Lady Astwick, and she always held her own against Robert—well, except for when she was a frightened sixteen year-old girl, but ever since then for sure.
Robert sighed. He wasn’t accustomed to consulting anyone else in his matters. He’d never had to. The concept was completely foreign to him.
Of course, he’d always been alone until now. He remembered Caroline raking Staveley over the coals for telling their daughters a bedtime story about Medusa. And he remembered Lady Carteret soundly chastising her husband for leaving their troublesome three year-old daughter alone with blue paints in the breakfast room. And then he thought about Lydia berating him for not consulting her over dealing with Peter’s fears. She was simply being his wife. The thought brought a smile to his face.
Before he knew it, they had reached the stables. A whinny hit Robert’s ears, and Peter tensed next to him. The poor child is scared to death. Robert stopped walking and called out to Luke. “Go on ahead, will you? We’ll catch up in a moment.”
Luke nodded nonchalantly and continued into the stables.
Robert bent down so he could be on eye level with Peter. “T
here’s nothing to be worried about, Peter. Horses are perfectly safe animals. You just need to know how to handle them.”
It was heartbreaking to watch tears pool up in Peter’s eyes, though the boy was careful not to let them trail down his cheek. “I seen ‘em run down me mum,” he quietly admitted.
Good God, that was awful!
Robert closed his eyes and sighed. So, the boy’s fears weren’t unfounded. Still, wild horses didn’t freely roam the streets of London. But how could he explain to the boy that the horses weren’t responsible for his mother’s accident, but that their foolish human driver was? The poor child.
Robert nodded his head and reached for Peter’s hands. “You’ll be fine with me, Peter. I’ll show you how to safely handle our horses. Since you and Penny will be living here at Gosling Park from now on, you’ll need to know how to do so. And you need to learn how to get along with the animals.”
The boy blinked back the tears in his eyes and nodded solemnly. He was trying to be brave. Robert respected that.
He tousled Peter’s hair and smiled warmly. “Come along, lad. I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear it.”
Peter stared at each stall in wide-eyed amazement. There were more horses stabled at Gosling Park than he had ever seen in one place. He felt mostly safe. Holding Lord Masten’s hand helped. The horses were securely closed behind large wooden doors, but their snorting and size were scary.
The earl was pointing out all the different kinds of horses they were looking at. None of it made any sense to Peter. One breed sounded just like another to him. Then they came to a stall that was larger than the rest. Inside, there was a black horse that had big, dark brown eyes. Peter didn’t know how he knew it, but he did—this horse was miserable. Peter could just feel it. “What’s wrong wi’ this ‘orse? ‘e looks sad.”
Lord Masten smiled down at him, and Peter felt his heart swell. Scared as he was, it felt good to have someone look down on him with a smile and not the scowls he was used to. “Aren’t you a smart lad? This is Star Dancer. She is an Anglo-Arabian and she’ll deliver her foal in a matter of days.”
“Foal?”
“A baby horse,” he explained with a pat on Peter’s back. “And you’re right, she has been very sad. I acquired her two months ago, and her previous owner in the north was near destitute. She had been badly neglected for quite some time before she came here.”
It was hard to talk to Lord Masten. The earl used big words that Peter didn’t quite know the meanings of. So he smiled awkwardly and nodded while keeping his eyes fixed on Star Dancer. He’d never seen an animal look so sad before. The horse walked toward Peter, and he was surprised to realize that he wasn’t afraid of this horse.
He looked up at Lord Masten. “Can I touch ‘er?”
Again the earl smiled and patted Peter’s head. “Of course. But there are some rules.” Lord Masten took the boy’s hand in his own and held Peter’s fingers together. “First, make sure not to open your fingers, or to her your hand will look like a claw and it could scare her.”
Peter nodded, but now he wasn’t so sure he wanted to touch Star Dancer anymore. What would happen if he scared the horse? Most likely, something awful. He gulped.
“And keep your hand flat. Then slowly extend your arm toward her and let her smell you. If she backs away, you’ll just have to let her be.”
Peter took a deep breath and followed Lord Masten’s directions to a tee. His arm shook slightly, so he tightened his muscles to look calm. There was no way in the world he wanted to scare the horse. Tentatively, he stretched his hand toward Star Dancer, and the pretty black horse approached him. Her black nostrils scrunched up and looked funny as she sniffed at Peter’s outstretched arm. Apparently he didn’t scare her, because the next thing Peter knew, Star Dancer was nuzzling into his hand as if they were old friends.
“Good.” Lord Masten rested his palm on Peter’s shoulders. “Now look in her eyes, and don’t look away. Let her know you’re not afraid of her.”
Peter smiled. Amazingly, he wasn’t afraid of her. The other horses, perhaps, but not Star Dancer. There was just something about her.
“Now, you can touch her gently,” Lord Masten directed quietly.
With his heart pounding, Peter stepped a tiny bit closer to the stall door and carefully caressed Star Dancer about her nose. She felt sleek and silky against his fingers. The horse stepped closer as well, as if she liked him. How amazing! Peter had never felt so proud in all his life.
“Well, I’d say you two are kindred spirits. Would you like to feed her a carrot?”
Peter’s eyes lit up and he nodded happily. “Can I?”
“Of course.” The earl smiled again. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, orange carrot. “Now let me have your hand again.” Peter anxiously complied, and Lord Masten placed the carrot in Peter’s palm. “Keep your hand flat and stretch your arm back to her.”
Again Peter followed the direction. It tickled when Star Dancer took the carrot from him, and Peter found himself grinning and giggling.
Robert smiled when he heard the boy giggle. Penny giggled all the time, when she wasn’t squealing, but until now he’d never heard the solemn Peter make such a sound. How nice it was to hear. He couldn’t wait to tell Lydia. She’d be thrilled.
But then Robert noticed Luke leaning against a back stall, watching them. With a smirk and a flick of his wrist, Luke gestured for Robert to join him. “So, now tell me. How did you end up with wards?”
Robert grinned. “A pick-pocket took off with Caroline’s reticule in Covent Garden, and Lydia went after him. In the process she came across Peter and Penny.”
Luke’s eyes grew wide and he snickered in surprise. “And what about the reticule?”
“She returned it safely into our sister’s awaiting hand. Case in point—don’t ever underestimate my wife.”
Luke scoffed. “Oh, I’ve learned that lesson well.”
Robert frowned. He shouldn’t have said that to his brother. Luke was the last person he should discuss Lydia with. “Forgive me.”
“Something has been bothering me. So, I must ask you. How well do you know your wife, Robert?”
Robert stepped away from his brother a put his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “It’s all right to touch her face, if you want to. Just be gentle.”
Unfortunately, Luke followed him and wasn’t done talking. “Don’t avoid me, Robert. Answer the question.”
Anger coursed through Robert’s blood when he faced his brother. “I told you before, Lucas—we will not discuss my relationship with Lydia.”
“I’m not asking about your bloody relationship. I’m asking how well you know your wife. It’s not the same thing.”
Robert took a steadying breath and turned back to watch Peter’s interaction with Star Dancer. “I know that Lydia is brave. She’s loving and has a kind heart.”
“And she lived in a orph’nage,” Peter offered innocently without looking back them.
He couldn’t have heard the boy correctly. Robert furrowed his brow. “What did you say?”
Timidly, Peter turned around and faced Robert. “She was in a orph’nage.”
“How do you know that?” Robert asked incredulously.
“She tol’ me an’ Penny.”
Robert felt Luke’s hand on his back. “I think there are many things you don’t know about your wife.”
“If you want to hide out at Gosling Park, Lucas, you will not speak to me of my wife again. And you know precisely why. Do I make myself clear?”
Luke nodded begrudgingly and then walked back toward the entrance of the stables. But his words still echoed in Robert’s mind. What exactly did he know about his wife? He knew she had secrets. She never wanted to talk about her family—other than Carteret and his brood. How was it possible that his wife had lived in an orphanage and he didn’t know it? She’d told Peter and Penny, but she hadn’t confided that
piece of information to him. At least he now knew why it had been so important to Lydia for them to take in the two orphans. But what else didn’t he know?