“Are they still in the town?”
“Yes.They are very good people.My father never recognized Malcolm, even though everyone knew he was the one responsible for ruining his mother.And he left him nought in the will.”
They had settled into bed now and she had her head on his chest.The contentment he felt, after hours in the carriage, was leagues deep.
That made Leith remember what Severn had said.“Your brother, George, owns Parkhorne?”
Beatrice stiffened next to him.“Yes.But that is only a legality.My mother, Malcolm, and I, we manage everything.He is too young.”
“Nevertheless,” Leith said, “one day, it will be his.”
“In a very long time,” Beatrice said.“He is only fifteen.”
Leith said nothing, not wishing to upset her.But he was aware, as a man who had grown up familiar with all sorts of aristocratic arrangements, that George Salisbury would not remain an untried youth forever.And what would Beatrice do, when he was finally old enough to run Parkhorne Hall himself?Malcolm even could stay on as steward, and her mother would always havethatposition, but Beatrice right now was playing the role that her brother would one day assume.
Instead, he asked the other question in his mind.“How did Malcolm come to Parkhorne?”
“I hired him.After my father died.He was overseeing a smaller farm—and I thought it right.Given everything.”
“Did you bring them all here?”
But he already knew the answer.He knew she had brought Sally, and now Malcolm.
“Yes,” she said, her voice small.“I always wanted a big family.George is nine years younger than me.I never had any siblings and when I realized that I did, in fact, have them—I had to know them.”
“And you wanted to help them.”
Parkhorne Hall was one of the biggest estates for miles around.It had the power, as estates did, to make the lives of the surrounding inhabitants easier.Beatrice had tried to correct her father’s mistakes.She had tried to give to her siblings the birthright that had been otherwise denied them.
He had always respected her.From that first day in Monty’s drawing room, it had been impossible not to.The way she held herself, the way she knew what she wanted and said it out loud—he had been drawn to that quality in her from the start, even when it had disturbed him.
Then, after they had begun together, he had seen her heart—the kindness with which she approached all the things about himself that shamed him, that he felt made him unworthy.
But now he saw how deep her kindness ran—and her principles.
“That was very noble of you.”
She shook her head.Of course she did.
“It was the least I could do.”
“No,” he said.“It wasn’t.But I will not quarrel with you about it.”
“Good,” she said, her eyelids fluttering.She was already falling asleep.
“And it is very tolerant of your mother.Not many women would happily live with their husband’s by-blows.”
“She loves them,” Beatrice said, sleepily.“If my father weren’t such a beast—” she yawned “—I am sure she would have wanted more children.”
“Do you want them?”he asked.“Children?”
For a moment, he thought that she had fallen asleep and would not answer.
Then, she said, clearly only half-conscious.“Perhaps.”
He wasn’t sure why he had asked.Or, rather, he knew, but he didn’t even want to admit the reason to himself.
Instead, he pulled her nearer and closed his own eyes.
