Page 2 of The Earl and His Lady

“What am I going to do?” Virginia asked.

Christine shook her head. “An impossible choice, to be certain. Your brother is a lout.”

“Turning to Vinespar is impossible,” Virginia said evenly. “He would be worse than Mr. Macon, I think. I love my sons, and they are dependent upon my protection. Neither of their uncles have their best interests at heart.” Virginia slowly came to her feet and walked to the window, looking out over the gardens that Mrs. Gilbert, Thomas’s kind-hearted mother, said would be in bloom any day. “What will I do?” she whispered, more to herself than her cousin.

“Would you even consider finding a husband?” Christine’s words came out nearly strangled, and Virginia understood why voicing the idea was difficult. She herself could hardly think it.

Christine fought for a love match to her husband. She wouldn’t understand how Virginia could contemplate marriage only three months after her heart’s mate had died. Yet people married for less compelling reasons, without ever considering love.

But how could she ever wed another with her heart still attached to her late husband? Charles had been everything that was good in the world. Though she had prepared for his loss, when the night came that he left her behind forever, her heart had shattered.

Phillip and Edward had to be considered. If Gerard Macon won guardianship of them, he would not permit Virginia to raise them. He made it clear the boys would be sent to boarding schools and she would be left to live on her allowance, with only the unkempt dowager house as a place of residence. What he would do to Phillip’s inheritance until the boy came of age was uncertain, but Virginia doubted the funds would remain as sizable as they were at present.

“I’m—I’m not certain what to do,” she said to the gray May skies. Marry? How could she—? Virginia wouldn’t find love again. Love like she’d shared with Charles was difficult to obtain even once in a lifetime.

Christine’s skirts rustled, and the younger woman came to stand beside her. Her arm wrapped around Virginia’s waist in a sisterly embrace. “I will help in any way I can, Virginia. Tell me what you need.”

Virginia felt the weight of responsibility on her shoulders more heavily each day, and the baroness knew she must bear up for the sake of her sons. The time for weeping had passed with her husband. The time for mourning would have to come to a premature end. And the business of life was left up to her.

“As soon as I have some idea of that, I will give you your orders.” She spoke the words shakily, the strength she desperately needed slow to come to her aid.

“I will do my best to think of answers with you,” Christine said, her words firm and kind.

“Thank you, Christine,” Virginia said with all sincerity. “For everything.”

Christine only nodded and gave her cousin another half-embrace before she walked away, leaving Virginia to stare out the window, wishing for a little sun to shine through the clouds.

¤

Lucas Calvert, the sixth Earl of Annesbury, never did anything by halves. When he liked someone, it was with the full force of his personality. If he supported a venture, he threw his considerable influence forward to ensure success. Should he make an enemy, the man would never know a fiercer opponent in business or politics. His reputation as an eccentric but shrewd member of the peerage was well known, and people often watched his behavior and dealings in order to determine what their own should be.

Riding across the country roads to Annesbury, Lucas knew he ought to be more satisfied with his life. Yet every day that passed left him less and less able to enjoy his successes. The passing of his wife nearly six years ago had left him numb to all but the most exceptional experiences. When she died, she took all the color of the world with her.

London, with all the ton posturing and jockeying for favor, remained nothing but a gray blur before his eyes. Which was why, despite Parliament being in session, he decided to retire to the country. He had no desire to sit and listen to bickering peers all day while nothing of importance was decided.

Parliament almost ignored the American problem after the Tippecanoe incident. They hoped a declaration of peace would end the irritation of the United States’ hostilities. They had greater problems on their hands when Napoleon’s decision to build an empire brought violence and pain to all of Europe. Then the Luddites at their own front door hardly helped matters, stirring up unrest.

Frankly, Lucas was done with all of it. The world could keep its problems and he would see to his own.

Lucas rode for his favorite estate, knowing he could not go on in this manner forever.

“But what is there I have not tried?” he muttered to himself, glaring at the road. The scenery became more familiar with each passing minute.

Annesbury Park remained a place of comfort; it held all the best memories of time spent with Abigail within its walls.

When he and his mount rounded the gates at the foot of the drive, the chestnut trees lining the carriageway made him sit straighter. He’d loved climbing those trees as a boy and had always been grateful to whichever ancestor planted them. Chestnut trees were hardly the tall, stately variety that lined many a road. They were round, comfortable trees, reaching outward as well as upward, like the arms of a parent ready to embrace a leaping child.

After passing beneath the shade of their leaves, he was home. At last.

His careful eye took in the grounds of the estate, noting the sheep grazing on the wide lawns. He smiled to himself, remembering how aghast his mother had been that he kept barnyard animals where they might be seen. But he liked the woolly beasts and they did their share by keeping the grasses manageable.

When he came to the house, he waited for the groom to collect his horse. He hadn’t sent word ahead of his arrival, but the butler came forward quickly.

“My lord,” Gresham said, his face more lined than Lucas remembered. “Welcome home.”

Lucas studied the man more closely. The butler had been part of the household staff for as long as Lucas could remember. How old must he be? He ought to retire to one of the pension cottages on the property, but Lucas wouldn’t dare mention the idea to the butler.

Gresham had been there when he brought home Abigail, throwing the door open, proudly welcoming the new countess seven years ago.