Page 10 of The Earl and His Lady

Frankly, she thought him a positive genius for suggesting such a thing. “That is a very sound plan. If you are willing to provide the glue. What do you say, Phillip? Edward?”

“Yes, please.”

“We can mend it.”

“Excellent.” The earl stood and held the horse and leg out to Phillip. “I can bring the glue back with me tomorrow morning. You need to keep the horse safe until then.”

Phillip nodded and turned to his brother. “Come on, Ed. Let’s find a safe place to keep it in the nursery.”

Virginia watched Edward’s expression change to one of absolute joy. His brother had forgiven him, and since she knew Edward’s world revolved around Phillip at times, a sense of relief filled her.

“Take your leave politely,” she reminded them when it seemed both boys would dash off.

They bowed, said their “good afternoons,” and then turned and ran for the stairs.

She nearly called after them to correct their speed, but she caught the earl staring at her and closed her mouth over the admonition.

“Thank you, my lord,” she said instead. “You’ve made them friends again.”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug and folded his arms across his chest. “As I said, I have a younger brother. Marcus and I were nearly always in argument over something, but my father made us work together to solve our problems. He offered up the same solution, the same glue, when I hurt my brother’s favorite toy boat. We’re both lucky I remembered the occasion.”

“Yes, we are.” Virginia remained grateful, but had to ask, “What brought you into the hall, my lord?”

He looked from her to the parlor door and back again. “I thought to offer my assistance is all. I understood the situation before you left the room.” He cleared his throat and adjusted the cuffs of his coat. “Would you care to rejoin the others, my lady?” He offered his arm.

Virginia considered his escort, hesitating. But why? It was a considerate gesture. Normally even small altercations between the children drained her of late. Each argument, each childish hurt, chipped away at her self-possession. But today, with this man’s assistance, she did not feel the need to collect herself before facing the others.

“Yes, thank you.” She took his arm. He led her back into the parlor, releasing her after a few steps inside, and she retook her seat.

“Is everything all right, Virginia?” Christine asked, her eyes darting from the earl to her cousin. Her smile, Virginia thought, was uncertain.

Hastening to reassure them, Virginia began relating the story of the broken horse and the earl’s gallant offer of glue. Mrs. Gilbert praised his quick thinking.

“It was nothing, ma’am,” he insisted, taking up his cup. “I am happy to be of service in any way I can.”

If only all our problems could be solved as easily as applying a little glue. Though Virginia did not voice the thought, when she met Christine’s sympathetic gaze, she knew her cousin was thinking something similar.

Chapter Four

Lucas arrived home after dark, having taken his evening meal with the Gilbert family. He had been grateful for their lack of formality, the warm welcome of Thomas Gilbert’s parents, and the easy conversation to be found at their table. In London, much of his time was divided between the heavy talk of politics or the inane babble of society. Here, in their quiet corner of England, they spoke of apple harvests and spring foals, gardening, the needs of their village. It was also more comfortable to be among people who were not trying to persuade him to their way of thinking on political matters.

He admitted, though only to himself, that he’d enjoyed observing Lady Virginia Macon, Baroness of Heatherton. The woman’s troubles revealed to him, she became an object of interest. In mourning, and experiencing great personal hardship, she still carried herself with all the grace and gentility of a duchess.

In the candlelit dining room, made intimate by the smaller table employed by the Gilberts for family meals, he’d studied her carefully from the corner of his eye. Had he not known of her circumstances, it would’ve been difficult to guess that her mind was not fully engaged in the present. But he saw her gaze turn inward a time or two, watched her smile falter into an uncertain frown. He had seen the weariness in the slight drop of her shoulders before she would remember herself, her posture straightening again.

Did her family at the table see it, too? They must, knowing her situation. But no one spoke of it with him present.

The boys had appeared before the adults had their supper, the two of them showing no evidence of their prior argument. Edward did venture, albeit shyly, to ask when he might expect Lord Calvert to visit the next day.

“First thing after breakfast,” Lucas had promised. It would be an easy thing to send the glue over with a servant, if the Gilberts didn’t have their own, but Lucas meant to be there for the repair of the toy.

Might there be a way he could assist in repairing the family as well?

In the years since his wife’s passing, Lucas had attempted to fill the hole she left in his heart with other things. He discovered, after trial and error, the best way to mute his grief was in helping others. Though he would not discuss it, knowing it would sound trite to people who did not understand, Lucas knew the truth of the matter. When he put aside his personal hurts and instead alleviated the pain of others, his peace returned.

Thomas and Christine Gilbert’s marriage was the latest of his victories. Through his quick-thinking and manuevering of Christine’s father, Mr. Devon, he had made it possible for the young couple to wed.

Congratulating himself on their account, he’d next turned his attention to his younger brother. Marcus had married in order to obtain his inheritance, not realizing the woman he chose loved him deeply.