Page 59 of Reforming Lord Neil

“Thank you, Lord Neil,” Teresa said quickly, then laughed when he cocked his eyebrows up at her. “It is knowing you that started all of this. You saved my family.”

He gave only the slightest nod, hardly a real movement of his head, and then turned back to stare out the window.

Though Teresa had thought his silence comforting before, undemanding even, it struck her differently in the carriage. With the villain defeated, the hero’s reserve confused her. Lady Inglewood gave Teresa’s arm a gentle pat, drawing her attention away from the somber man in the corner.

“What will you do now, Mrs. Clapham? Your circumstances have certainly changed drastically. You could likely afford to let a small house in a larger town, if you wish. Procure a few servants. Your daughter, Miss Caroline, may go away to school.”

Teresa attempted to avoid that question. “I had not thought quite that far.” But Neil’s gaze abruptly swung back to her, the slightest downturn to his lips. Bother, could he read her so easily? She had thought of it. A great deal. But she doubted people of the earl and countess’s status would understand what she had begun to plan for herself and her family.

“There is time to sort all of that out later.” The earl sounded amused, but whether it was with her answer or his wife’s enthusiasm, Teresa could not be certain. “Mrs. Clapham, if you determine to seek out a house in town, I hope you will contact me. My man of business in Ipswich, and my assistant in London, would be at your service to ensure you found exactly what you sought.”

The offer was kind, and had to be sincere given the reputation of the man before her. “Thank you, my lord. I will keep that in mind, of course.”

Neil had turned to the window again, and the carriage stopped before the house.

“My brother and his wife will be here for dinner this evening.” Lady Inglewood appeared enthusiastic at that news. “I had a note this morning, but I did not think you wished to be distracted from the matter at hand.”

“I look forward to meeting them at last.” Teresa had been told the brother, Sir Isaac, had helped sort matters out before the Earl of Inglewood arrived, then he had returned to the seaside with his wife to continue their wedding trip.

The door to the carriage opened, and Neil stepped out first. He extended his hand to help Lady Inglewood down, and then he did the same for Teresa. The moment their gloved hands touched, he met her eyes with his. He appeared most handsome in his new coat and cravat, with his hair shining in the afternoon sun.

Her heart turned over. Warmth flooded her from head to toe. She had to stop reacting that way, or so she told herself as her foot landed upon the pavement. Lady Inglewood linked her arm with Teresa’s and swept her up the steps to the house, chatting about dinner that evening. Before they slipped into the house, Teresa looked over her shoulder to where Neil remained standing, Lord Inglewood at his side. Neil watched Teresa, but Lord Inglewood stared thoughtfully at the marquess’s son.

Teresa had apparently agreed to sit with Lady Inglewood in an upstairs parlor, without realizing it, as that was where they went directly after removing their bonnets and gloves. She could not remember when the suggestion had been made, but she settled into a chair with a weary sigh.

“Mrs. Clapham, I am absolutely wild with my happiness for you.” The countess rang for a servant, then collapsed in her chair with something less than ladylike grace. “But goodness, were you not agitated all the morning long?”

Thinking of Neil’s hand in hers, Teresa managed to smile at that question. “Not as much as I should have been, most likely. But at my age, and with all I have been through, I have learned to be still when nothing I say or do can change the outcome. Though I can promise you that I am quite relieved it is over.”

“At your age. You speak as though you are one of those old ladies who chaperone their great-nieces in London.” The countess turned her attention to the door as a servant entered. “Will you please bring us tea? And send the nursery maid in with my son.”

“I will be one and thirty this winter,” Teresa murmured, smoothing the skirt of her second-best dress. She would wear her best gown that evening, to dinner, in celebration of all she had won.

Lady Inglewood shrugged and waved her hand in the air before her. “That is not old, Mrs. Clapham. You are young still. There is much ahead of you, too, that you can yet accomplish. How wonderful, truly, for you.”

“While I am most grateful for the return of my funds, I will freely confess that the best thing to have come out of all of this is knowing that Henry did not leave me poor, or lie to me about gambling.” His memory had been restored to her with nothing to cloud it, no dark shadows to the brightness that had been his love for her. “I can remember him as he deserves to be remembered, and Caroline need never be ashamed of her father.”

Expression and tone both softened as Lady Inglewood spoke. “You loved him very much, I can tell. Love is all too rare. I am glad you may now treasure yours again.”

“As am I.” Teresa’s heart further softened, the emotions of the moment threatening to overcome her. She needed to change the subject, quickly. “You love your husband very much, do you not?” How had Neil ever thought the woman did not adore the earl?

“I do.” Lady Inglewood’s eyes brightened. “I am quite fortunate. We did not begin that way.”

Teresa tipped back in some surprise. “You did not?”

“No. Ours was a marriage of convenience.” A knock on the door halted the lady’s explanation, and she rose when a young servant entered holding a delightful little baby, perhaps four or five months old. “There is my little love. Thank you, Matilda.”

The nursemaid curtsied, then scampered out the door, likely delighted to have time to herself.

When the countess sat down again, cooing to her son, she returned to the conversation. “Silas and I grew up together. He and my brother are dear friends. But I barely knew him and had never entertained any romantic notions about him. When we married, I determined to be a good wife to him. Love came after. As did little Isaac.” She kissed her son’s brow.

Teresa smiled to herself, her thoughts turning to a black-haired baby girl. “I remember when Caroline was that tiny. They grow so quickly. I wish I had spent hours more simply holding her close before she grew. You have seen her—she is nearly my height now.”

“I was taller than my mother by the time I was fourteen.” Lady Inglewood laughed and held her son closer. “You are young yet, Mrs. Clapham. Have you given thought to marrying again? You might have more children, should you wish.”

More children. Warmth spread through Teresa’s heart. No other children had come after Caroline. No miscarriages or stillbirths. Her doctor had not known what to make of it, though he suggested once it was Henry and not her to blame, as everything seemed perfectly normal. She had never discussed the matter with her husband, as he had declared himself happy enough over Caroline to need no more in their nursery. She had counted her blessings and agreed.

But whether she was capable of filling a new nursery, Teresa could not think on marriage easily. Because when she even briefly entertained the thought, only one man came to mind. But she was not a worthy match for the son of a marquess, whether Neil was in favor with his father or not.