“Really? I wish I’d known!” she exclaimed.
“You wouldn’t like it. The passage is very small, built for our shorter ancestors. The staircase runs all the way down to the cellar level. It was either an escape route in the event of siege, or a way for lecherous Audleys to descend and seduce the housemaids.”
“Would there be spiders?” she asked with mock anxiety.
“Almost certainly. Along with other small creatures that rustle around in the darkness.” His hand tightened on hers. “But we won’t stay in the tower long. You can look for a location for our new house while I visit the tenant farms and mines and have meetings with the managers of the family businesses.”
“I already know where we should build. Remember that protected dell between our family estates? It’s on Kingston land, it’s lovely, and it doesn’t get hit by the worst of the winds from the Irish Sea.” She looked thoughtful. “Building will take time, so I’ll look for a property we can live in until the new house is finished.”
“A cottage will do as long as it’s away from the Court.” It was time to return to the coach, but Gordon hesitated, his gaze moving over the valley. “It’s strange. I don’t want to live in Kingston Court—I have far too many difficult memories of my childhood here. And yet, this valley feels like home as nowhere else does.”
Callie bit her lower lip. “I know what you mean. The light, the hills, everything about Lancashire shaped our growing years. I’m happy to be back in England, delighted to have a home in London, and I’m oddly pleased that we’ll have a home here as well.”
“It will be a beautiful, modern, comfortable home,” he promised. “A good use for some of the Kingston wealth.”
“Bathing chambers with hot water and deep tubs?” she asked hopefully.
“Absolutely.” He grinned at her. “Tubs big enough for two. If there is one thing I remember from my childhood, it’s that managing an extravagant fortune is a lot of work. But since there’s no help for it, we might as well at least have decadent bathtubs.”
Laughing, she took his arm and they returned to the chaise. As they drove down into the valley and toward the Court, Gordon observed, “The coal seam fire has spread.”
He gestured to where a thin plume of white smoke trickled from the ground. “There are several places smoking now. That one ahead is quite close to the house.”
“How long has the fire been burning?” Callie asked. “It’s been smoldering for as long as I can remember.”
“Almost forty years, I think.” He thought back to his childhood again. “Mining can be ugly, but I loved going down into the coal tunnels and learning about the steam engines that pumped the water out. Didn’t I take you down a time or two?”
“Once. I did not share your enjoyment of filthy, suffocating spaces.”
“That’s right. You couldn’t wait to get out, so I never invited you to come with me again. I was the mine engineer’s pet because I was so interested in his equipment, and it served me well later.” He smiled, reminiscing. “My experience in the mines got me the job as captain of the Duke of Ashton’s experimental steam packet. By that time, I’d done quite a bit of sailing, and I knew steam engines, so I was well qualified.”
“So that’s how you ended up driving the ship that rescued Lady Kirkland,” Callie said with interest. “How did Ashton come to hire you?”
“That’s a long story for another day since we’ve reached our destination.” He gazed out the window as their chaise drove under the ancient stone arch into the central courtyard. The tower loomed over one side while the newer sections and outbuildings ran down the hill to the left.
The carriage rattled to a stop and they descended to the cobblestones. With Callie on his arm, Gordon walked to the door of his ancestral home and rang the great bell. The deep gong echoed like the voice of doom. Though he didn’t like the house any better than he ever had, entering with Callie beside him was an improvement on the past.
The footman who admitted them was young and dressed very traditionally in knee breeches and powdered wig. Gordon hadn’t had time to have cards printed, so before the footman could ask who he was, he said, “I am the new Lord Kingston. In the past I’ve been known as Lord George Audley. Are my younger brothers in residence?”
The footman was young and he’d never met Gordon, but he wasn’t stupid. He probably knew there was a long absent middle brother who would be the heir if he was alive. Eyes widening, the footman bowed deeply. “They are taking predinner sherry, my lord. I shall escort you to them.”
Ugly house, ugly furnishings, drafty passageways. It was as bad as Gordon remembered, but at least he didn’t have to worry about running into his father. “Feel free to kill him. I have better sons.”
Callie must be remembering those words, too, because her hand was locked tight on his arm. She looked very beautiful and every inch an aristocrat. But even if she’d been wearing flour sacks, she would look like a marchioness. He didn’t think he could have tolerated being here without her beside him.
The small salon where family and guests gathered for predinner drinks was at least warmed by a fire, albeit a smoky one. He’d not been old enough for the drinks ritual when he was last in this house.
But if he’d been the most worthless of the old lord’s sons then, he made up for it now. The footman ushered them in, saying, “The Marquess of Kingston.”
The words paralyzed the two young men chatting in the salon. That would be Eldon with the brown hair and the air of ironic detachment. He looked very much like an Audley. Francis, the youngest of the five sons, strongly resembled his mother, with fair hair, freckles, and a cheerful face. Neither of them looked at all like Gordon. As always, he was the odd man out.
Francis spoke first. “George, is that really you?” he asked, incredulous. “You’ve been presumed dead for almost fifteen years! But I remember that blond hair.” He came forward and offered his hand, looking genuinely pleased.
“I’ve been going by my middle name, Gordon, for years now.” Gordon shook his brother’s hand, glad someone seemed happy to see him. “I didn’t die as reported and I sent occasional notes to the family lawyers to rub in the fact that I was still alive. I imagine our father kept the information to himself in the hope that eventually I would remedy my failure to die while being transported to Botany Bay.”
Eldon rallied and also offered his hand. “You should have warned us, George! Or rather, Gordon. We could have killed the fatted calf for you. Instead, you’ll have to settle for lamb collops tonight.”
“The fatted calf can continue to graze in peace,” Gordon said as he drew Callie forward. “Let me introduce you to my wife.”
