And so it went every day, from early morning until late in the afternoon, with only a brief pause for lunch, unless there was physical work that required his presence somewhere in the estate. He much preferred that to the mentally draining task of endless financial juggling to keep the earldom afloat. He always reached the end of each day exhausted and disheartened.
For five long years, ever since the previous earl had died, he had labored nonstop to save his ancestral home. By all rights, he should despise this place. Not only had it been the scene of his unhappy childhood, but ever since he had inherited it, it had brought him nothing but trouble.
But for the first time in his life, he belonged somewhere. The people who lived and worked here needed him. This was his home now. Somehow, he was able to separate the pain of his childhood from his feelings for this place. It wasn’t theEarl’sestate anymore. It was his now. His responsibility.
In all his life, no one had expected anything from him, but if he saved the estate, he would prove his worth. He could be a good lord, given the chance. The work was indeed heartbreaking and, at times, hopeless.
“If you’ll forgive the impertinence, my lord, I think you should consider marrying an heiress.”
The voice of his secretary echoed that of his conscience, whispering from the darkest recesses of his mind where he had it locked most of the time.
You should marry an heiress.
He knew that’s what he needed to do. Without a substantial infusion of capital, the estate would flounder. The people who depended on it would suffer. But as soon as he contemplated it, his whole being recoiled from the idea. He knew it was a common arrangement. Many aristocrats were offering their title to merchant’s daughters in exchange for money to save their estates. And yet, the idea made him feel cheap. It wasn’t a matter of pride in his lineage. It was the transaction. How was that any different from what a prostitute did? If anything, this was worse. Marriage was forever. He would tie his fate to this person for the rest of his life. An image of his parents’ hostile marriage flitted through his mind, and cold sweat broke on his brow.
And yet, there might be no other solution. Despite toiling endlessly, it seemed he couldn’t get much further ahead. He fixed one problem, only to find that another two had sprung up. He paid one debt, and another one appeared. The many layers of his predecessor’s ruination of his patrimony never ceased to amaze him. It seemed as if theEarlhad set out to ruin his legacyon purpose. There was no other explanation for the catastrophic mishandling of affairs. Knowing full well how much his sire had despised him, he firmly believed it had been intentional. Although why his own father had hated him so much was still a mystery to him. God knows he had done nothing to warrant such wrath.
A letter caught his attention as he absently flipped through the pile of correspondence. It was from the Duke of Stanhope. He opened it at once and read the contents. It didn’t tell him much, only that the duke would like to speak with him at his earliest convenience and invited him to his estate. He and his duchess would be honored to offer their hospitality.
He leaned back in his chair, frowning in bemusement. What could Stanhope wish to speak to him about that would be so important as to warrant such an urgent summons? For a summons, it was, even if it was worded as an invitation.
Of course, he did not have to go, but the duke had become something of a friend and mentor. He had made his acquaintance shortly after Gabriel had inherited the mountain of problems that were his earldom, and soon his solid advice had become invaluable. Without the duke’s guidance, he wouldn’t have made it this far. He had heard the duke’s health was frail, and suddenly the invitation took a different connotation.
One thing was certain; he would leave for the duke’s estate the next morning. If his heart sped up a little at the thought of seeing a certain duchess, he did not pay it any mind. He was used to such a reaction to the lovely Hannah, and he was also an expert at ruthlessly crushing such inclinations.
CHAPTER 4
“YOUR GRACE,” INTONEDthe butler in his solemn voice. “The Earl of Brentworth has arrived.”
Stanhope looked up in surprise. He had just sent his letter the day before last. He had not expected Gabriel to arrive until tomorrow at the earliest. It was obvious the boy had come post-haste after receiving his note. Such eagerness was encouraging. It boded well for his plans that Brentworth cared for him enough to abide by his requests with alacrity.
“Thank you, Boddle. Does the duchess know?”
“No, Her Grace is out riding.”
That was strange. She usually rode in the mornings. Had she seen Brentworth arrive and left the house to avoid him? Was she having second thoughts?
“I trust Brentworth has been given the accommodations we discussed.”
“Yes, Your Grace. We have placed him in the gold bedchamber.”
“Good, good. Please ask our guest to join me in the library at five. And ask the duchess to visit me as soon as she returns.”
The butler bowed and withdrew. Leaving the duke alone with his thoughts. His son had arrived. He was here, under his roof. It was not the first time he’d visited, but today was different. Today he would learn about his parentage. This would be the first time he’d be able to call Gabrielson, claim him as his own...even if only between them.
His heart sped up as sudden nervousness gripped him. The conversation with Hannah had been harder than he could have imagined. This conversation could be even more challenging.
He had vastly underestimated the difficulty of convincing Hannah to take what it was obvious she wanted. He expected no less from Brentworth. They were both so tiresomely honorable. He had sensed the attraction between them, and for the last five years, had been throwing them together every chance he got. Subtly encouraging their feelings.
They would be furious at him if they realized he had been trying to manipulate them this way. He was sure they were attracted to each other, just as he was sure they had not acted on that attraction. And that had brought them to this moment, this predicament.
The time for subtleties had passed. Circumstances forced him to take decisive action if the goals he sought were to be accomplished. He only hoped that he didn’t end up hurting the people he loved most in this world.
SITTING ATOP HER HORSE, Hannah observed the house from the hill that overlooked it. When she’d seen the earl arrive, she had been glad for the impulse that had made her go out for a ride in the afternoon. Better to not have been there when he arrived. She was being a coward, and she knew it, but she just couldn’t face him yet. A mixture of shame and humiliation warred with excitement inside her, creating a dangerous mix of emotional turmoil.
How would he take the duke’s revelations? What would he think of this mad scheme? And most importantly, what would he think of her? Would he consider her a shameless woman of loose morals? An ambitious hussy? Or simply a pitiful charity case? Somany questions without answers tormenting her! And why did she care so much about what he thought of her?
No longer could she deny it to herself. She did care about him. She valued his opinions; she sought his esteem. And that was because she admired him. Oh, how she admired him. His intelligence, his kindness, the hint of humor in his eyes, the promise of passion on his mouth. The core of honor and integrity she sensed in him. They had only interacted in the most proper and formal of ways, and yet she knew him to be a man capable of igniting dangerous passions in her.
