Page 13 of A Countess of Convenience

“Which he did straightway the next day.” Her father had dispatched a footman to Devizes to summon his solicitor to the estate at first light. “The solicitor appeared, and the new will was signed, leaving everything to Anna.”

“Did he make no provision for you or your sisters, Miss Harper?” Lord Farringdon’s visage had drawn into a tight mask of displeasure.

“I am my grandmother’s heir, my lord, so I am provided for. My older sisters both married well and with substantial dowries, and so are no need of further provision from our father. But everything that would have gone to Simon will now go to his daughter.” She gripped Judith’s cold hand. “She will be a great heiress one day, Judith. You need not worry at all for her.”

“But I do worry, Dora.” Judith sighed and released Dora’s hand. “I worry because my only child is far away from me, although I suppose that can easily be remedied. Mamma,” she turned to Mrs. Welbourne with a determined look Dora had come to know very well over the years, “we must plan a journey to the Grange, to fetch Anna back.”

“I cannot allow that, Judith.” The suddenness of Lord Farringdon’s voice made Dora jump. “You are not strong enough to undertake such a journey and will not be for some time to come. Send Miss Harper to fetch the child. I daresay her parents will approve of her as a chaperone.”

“You overstep your bounds, my lord.” Judith drew herself up and threw back her head as if ready to take on an army. “I thank you for your concern, but I will travel where I please, when I please.” She rose. “Mamma, we must pack.”

Dora made to stop her. “I’m afraid it will do no good, Judith.” Now she must give her sister-in-law the death blow. “My parents will not allow her to leave Harper’s Grange.”

Scowling, Judith rounded on her. “What do you mean they will not allow her to leave? They have no choice. I am the child’s mother.”

“Because of your infirm state, the same day Father signed his will, he had the solicitor draw up papers of guardianship for Anna, naming him and my mother as her guardians in the absence of both her natural parents and because she is now his heir.” Her father certainly knew how to draw up an airtight contract. He’d had a lifetime of practice.

“But she is not absent of her mother. I am alive. She is my child.” Her voice broke. “He cannot take her from me.”

“Has the guardianship been decreed yet, Miss Harper?” Lord Haxby’s voice was soothing in its quietness.

“All I know is that it was sent forward with the solicitor. That was in early February. I am not privy to my father’s business. He completely refused to speak to me after I broke my betrothal to Lord Trevor. Everything I have learned about the dealings since then has come either from my mother or my aunt.” Her father had even forbidden Dora to have meals with the rest of the family, so she’d taken them all in her room. Had he forbidden her to ride to the village she would have gone completely mad in the weeks afterward. She’d therefore been delighted with her sentence of exile to Yorkshire.

“If the guardianship has not yet been granted, my dear, you may be able to petition for it yourself.” Lord Haxby offered Judith his arm. “Perhaps you should have your father write to his solicitor to discuss the matter.” They and Judith’s mother started down the gray path of crushed shells toward the house.

“Come along, Miss Harper,” Mrs. Welbourne called over her shoulder. “You and Lord Farringdon must not tarry alone in the gazebo. Such stuff is the heart of gossip in the country.”

“Allow me, Miss Harper.” Lord Farringdon offered her is arm, and she took it gratefully. The peaceful afternoon had turned anything but and a strong arm to lean on would be exceedingly welcome.

“Thank you, my lord. It has been quite an eventful afternoon.”

“I have to agree with you, and I wish to thank you for all you have done to help your friend during this trying time.” He turned his head to peer at her. “Including shielding her from the news of her daughter’s whereabouts. Had she learned of that circumstance soon after coming out of her coma, the shock might have been too much for her and she could have succumbed.”

“I thought her too frail as well.” A weight slid from Dora’s shoulders. She’d felt so guilty withholding the information from Judith about her daughter’s whereabouts. It was pure relief to hear someone say she had done the correct thing. “I didn’t want to burden her with the knowledge so soon after learning about her husband’s death.”

“She was fond of him, then?”

“I believe she was, at one time.” Given the argument she’d heard outside Judith and Simon’s room, and Simon’s subsequent infidelities, Dora suspected that Judith had grown less and less interested in her husband as the years wore on.

“Do you think she might ever wish for male companionship again, Miss Harper? Or has her experience with this one gentleman soured her on our sex forever?”

Dora smiled. His lordship’s interest was unmistakable. “I am not certain how she will come to view the bonds of marriage in future, my lord. For the present, I suspect she will be content to live here peacefully with her daughter, if she can manage to regain her.”

“I suspect you are correct, Miss Harper.” To give the man credit, he did not sigh as though he’d lost his hope of heaven.

“However, once she has completed her year of mourning, I would be hard put to say what she might then think of the masculine sex.” She cut her gaze to Lord Farringdon’s face, in profile even featured, though a bit stern about the lips. “Judith is a woman of great passions, so I cannot swear that she will wish to remain a widow forever.”

Another glance at Lord Farringdon and she smiled to herself. If she had to be truthful, she would swear he’d just managed a hint of an upward curl on his firm lips. Once out of her mourning, her sister-in-law would likely become the most eligible woman in the county. Why she had ever married Simon was anyone’s guess. Too bad Dora would not be here long enough to try to entice Lord Farringdon’s affections away from Judith. He seemed a formidable gentleman, a man who knew what to do in a crisis and was prepared to take charge in order to accomplish any task at hand. She supposed his training as a doctor had given him those very appealing characteristics.

So unlike Lord Haxby, who while a very pleasant gentleman, would never be the one others turned to in a crisis. Another eligible gentleman, obviously ready to woo Judith as soon as she put off her black gowns. Few such gentlemen awaited Dora in the north, she supposed. She would be her father’s virtual prisoner there, with no society, no one to talk to save Larkin and the servants, and certainly no handsome gentlemen to court her. Well, she must simply make the most of it while she could. “Tell me, my lord, do you enjoy horseback riding?”

* * * *

The house had quieted after Lords Haxby and Farringdon had taken their leave. Dora had waited for this moment to calm her nerves before going to Judith’s room to beg her forgiveness for deceiving her during the past week. Deliberately putting one foot before the other, she dragged herself up the stairs, not wanting to confront her sister-in-law about her perfidy.

As she approached Judith’s chamber, the thump of drawers being pulled out and the murmur of voices reached Dora well before she knocked on the door. “Judith, may I come in?” Hearing no demur, she pushed down the latch and the door swung open on a startlingly chaotic scene.

Drawers of the cherry chest-on-chest stood open, a variety of garments spilling over their sides. The door to the dressing room was ajar and sounds of rummaging filled the air. Larkin stood beside the bed, elbow deep in Judith’s trunk. The maid looked up at Dora, an expression of bewilderment on her thin face.