Blithely unconcerned, Andrew Langston, Earl of Hadley, sat himself before the fire, stretched out his long legs, sighed in contentment, and said, “As I mentioned to ye last month, ye need a wife, my friend.”
Shaking his head, Fox poured them each a tumbler of whisky.
First, Madeline. And now, Hadley.
The very thought of acquiring a wife sounded exhausting.
Fox didn’t need a mirror to know that he was well past his prime. Years of war and sun had aged him. And though his battle scars had thankfully spared his face, they lingered everywhere else—in the right hip joint that ached before a storm, in the jagged purple slash running from his left earlobe to his right breast, in the weary apathy that bleached color from his days.
Perhaps once he had been capable of inspiring affection in a gently-bred lady, but the Coorg War and the horrors that followed had forever destroyed any romantic notions for him.
All facts that Lord Hadley, secure in the loving arms of his doting family and beautiful wife, did not understand.
Fox handed a tumbler to Hadley.
“And as I toldyoulast month, a wife is out of the question,” Fox said, taking the seat opposite his friend. “What I require is a household that effortlessly runs itself.”
“Problems that a competent wife would easily solve for ye.” A grin twitched Hadley’s lips.
“It’s more than that and well you know it.” Fox rolled his eyes toward the water-stained ceiling. “Madeline needs to be nurtured and well cared for, without others outside the castle learning of her presence here.”
“So . . . a wife. Ye need a wife.”
“No. I need peace and quiet. A wife will not give me that.”
“The right wife would.”
“Enough.” Fox shook his head. “I’m sure you didn’t leave your own lovely lady and ride all the way up here from Muirford House to discuss my staffing woes.”
Sighing, Hadley sat back in his chair, his actions confirming Fox’s suspicion that the earl’s presence was more than just a social call.
Despite being nearly a decade older than Fox’s own thirty-nine years, Hadley was still a commanding figure. Tall with graying sandy brown hair, his blue eyes radiated good humor and sound sense.
He and Fox had met at a dinner party in London two years ago—shortly after Fox’s return from India—and had gradually become close friends. Fox had offered opinions as to the lay of the land in India regarding some investments Hadley was considering. In return, Hadley had used his connections in Lords to help Fox secure the ear of the Archbishop of Canterbury—the first necessary step to repair all that Coorg and India had broken.
Fox had purchased Laverloch Castle on Hadley’s suggestion. At the time, Fox had been looking to buy an estate as far from London and India and, well,peopleas possible and Laverloch fit the bill. That the castle was only a half day’s ride down the glen to Muirford House meant that Fox enjoyed Hadley’s company with some frequency.
“I received a letter from Alex, my good friend in Lords,” Hadley said, sipping his whisky.
“The Marquess of Lockheade, isn’t he? You’ve mentioned him before.”
“Aye, well, Alex has caught wind that the Court of Arches might agree to hear your case in the next Sessions.”
Emotions battered Fox, swirling so fast it was hard to pinpoint just one—hope, dread, panic, relief.
“About time,” Fox said, landing onvindicationas the emotion he wished to court. He tossed back his tumbler of whisky, allowing the alcohol to sear his throat. “About bloody time.” He stood and poured himself another finger.
Hadley watched him pour the amber liquid, sipping lightly at his own drink. “Aye. This suit has hung in legal limbo for far too long.”
“Agreed. I’ll get letters off to my lawyers in Doctors’ Commons tomorrow,” Fox nodded, retaking his seat. “They will want to be apprised of this. We will ensure that the case is properly litigated this time around.”
“Aye. From here, it will simply be a matter of journeying tae London when the time comes. Alex and I will lend what support we can. If powerful men appear tae be on your side, the judges are more likely to rule in your favor. Though it would help if ye could tell me more about the case . . .” Hadley’s voice drifted off.
Fox frowned. “As I’ve said before, Hadley, I swore an oath of silence on this matter. To say anything more risks Madeline’s safety.”
“But I hardly know anything at all. Only that, if successfully litigated, this case will prove Madeline’s legitimacy.”
“And that is all there is to know, truly. Madeline deserves the brightest future possible, without the specter of illegitimacy haunting her every step.”
