Page 20 of A Countess of Convenience

“I’d thought Dora exaggerated Judith’s miraculous recuperation.” She clucked her tongue. “Just think of that. After we thought she was about to die.”

“Hardly. Read on.”

She returned to the letter, reading slowly, her head shaking as she did. When she came to the end, she raised her gaze to him, her countenance grim. “I never believed Judith would recover from her injury. Had we an inkling she would, we could have simply kept her here.” She waved the letter at Downing, frowning. “I don’t suppose she would agree to return here to live. Then Anna would not have to leave.”

“Oh, Anna is not leaving here.” Downing chuckled, the sound scraping his throat. “She is the only piece of Simon we have left in the world. Mark my words, I will not let that single piece of my son out of my sight.”

“But what can we do, Melchior? Judith is Anna’s mother. She has a right to her child.” Harriet wrung her hands, her eyes welling with tears.

“But she is the sole link we have left to our son, Harriet. We have a right to her as well.”

“I suppose that is also true.” Her eyes widening, she sucked in a breath. “With Judith well, will the courts allow us to remain as guardians?”

“I mean to find out.” Downing strode to his wife, determination growing. “I’ll write to Dawkins immediately. He should have sent the guardianship papers to the courts more than a month ago. Hopefully, they have ruled on the petition already and he’s merely neglected to inform me.” Downing narrowed his eyes. If that were the case, Dawkins would soon find himself no longer the Harper family solicitor. “With any luck, it will all be settled before the woman arrives here.” He patted his wife’s hand soothingly. “I vow to you, my dear, under no circumstances will Anna leave our house. I intend to make certain of that.”

Chapter 7

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen this much sunshine during April. Have you, John?” The exceptionally mild spring weather had drawn Judith out to the garden earlier that afternoon. She seemed to not be able to get enough of the sun and soft air these days. Lord Haxby had found her there and they now walked arm and arm around the property, as they had been wont to do in their youth.

“No, I don’t believe we’ve ever had such nice weather this time of year.” John smiled down at her. “Most years, my tenants complain of it raining every day they plant or sow.”

“If I were superstitious, I’d believe it a good omen for my journey and meeting with Lord Downing.” A shadow of foreboding seemed to settle over Judith, despite the cloudless day. “I fear I’m going to need all the luck I can find.”

“You have right on your side, my dear. That will surely count for something.” He led her toward the gazebo, which seemed to be the best place to talk uninterrupted these days. “Have you set a date for our departure yet?”

“No, Lord Farringdon has not yet released me from his care.” Settling in her special chair, the one with the plumpest cushions, Judith sighed. “I had hoped to leave by next week, but he is still concerned that I am too weak to travel so far.” She raised her chin. “But I needn’t heed his counsel in this. If I feel perfectly well to sit in a drawing room, I believe I can do the same thing in a carriage.”

“If you will forgive me, Farringdon seems overly cautious. The man knows his business, I’ll give him that, but I can certainly see that you are in the bloom of health.” John plucked an early crocus from those that lined the path and presented it to her.

Laughing at his silliness, she sniffed the beautiful purple blossom, inhaling the sweet scent. “Well, I believe I am feeling stronger. I do not tire so easily, nor have I swooned in over a week.” She grinned at him. “I may very well consider going against his wishes.”

“If you are willing to be a rebel, you are certainly on the mend.” Taking the chair next to her, John sat companionably in silence, surveying the aconites, irises, hellebores, and primroses that comprised the spring garden. “We can begin to make the arrangements for the journey now, if you wish. We will not be rushed, then, when Farringdon is finally satisfied you are well.”

“That would be so helpful, John.” Her old friend had been most accommodating ever since he’d agreed to accompany her and her parents to Wiltshire. Eager, even, to help her. Quite a difference in the treatment she would’ve received had she made such a request of her husband. Simon had never granted her anything that he himself did not also desire. John was a treasure, no doubt about it. She simply hoped she was not leading him to believe she wished him to assist her with anything other than the coming journey. “I am afraid I’m trespassing terribly on your time. You were to go to London for the beginning of the Season, I believe.”

“Yes, Kitty will need me to escort her, but I can spare some time before that in your service. The Season will continue until late June.” He smiled, looking boyish as ever. “I am certain there will still be enough young gentlemen for her and young ladies galore for me when I return to London.”

“You are searching for a wife, then?” Without thought, the question slipped out. None of her business to be sure, yet perversely, she did wish to know.

He shrugged. “I must. It is my duty to marry again and produce an heir.” He met her gaze, and his eyes were filled with sadness. “I would have liked to mourn my wife longer, but life is uncertain and my obligation to my family is clear. Had I not inherited the earldom, I would’ve remained in London throughout the winter to continue my search as there are few prospects here and fewer still, I suspect, in Yorkshire.”

“I daresay you’re right.” What else could she say? “I will endeavor to keep you from your quest for as little time as possible, John. I do wish you well in your… venture.” She’d been about to say “hunt,” but that sounded so predatory. At least he did not seem to consider her prey. A pinprick of disappointment appeared from nowhere, but she shook it off. She had no wish for John to pursue her, of that she was certain. “I wanted to remind you that my father and mother will be accompanying me to Wiltshire.”

“I believe you had spoken of that before.” He peered at her, and concern touched his face. “Is there some problem, then, with the accommodations? We will take my largest carriage, which will accommodate the four of us comfortably, although I intend to ride if the weather continues fair. The maids and valets can ride in your coach along with the baggage and bedding.”

“You bring your own bedding when you travel, John?” What an odd thing to do.

He nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes, my dear. One never knows if the linen is clean in the inns, and I must admit I have developed a fondness for sleeping on my own sheets and pillows.” He grinned. “Does that make me rather an epicurean? It is a new affectation, I admit, but one I do enjoy when traveling.”

“Very different from the days when you used to think it great fun to sleep on the floor here in the gazebo. Marble must be much more uncomfortable than strange sheets.” Laughing, Judith put her hand on his arm and immediately wished she hadn’t. Warmth shot through her as though her fever had returned.

“I fear one grows softer after twenty years.” Eyes bright, he took her hand. “Do you remember journeying to the Lake District that summer?”

“Oh, yes, of course!” A warm flush emanated from his hand and enhanced her memory of that adventure. “You persuaded your father to venture up into the fells where we became lost and had to spend the night stranded on a goat path.” Lord, it felt good to laugh with John again.

“It was not a goat path,” he shot back as he always had. “We saw no goats a’tall. There were, I grant you, rather a lot of sheep. And I should know because I’m the one they trampled.”

“You didn’t expect your mother, Kitty, and me to sleep anywhere but in the carriage, did you?” She had heard a great deal of cursing that night from both Lord Donningham and John as they tried to get some rest. Unfortunately, they seemed to have bedded down in the middle of a sheep’s path.