Page 21 of A Countess of Convenience

“Of course not. We insisted, I recall.” His laughter was easy, comfortable. Infectious. “But Father and I slept on the ground, wrapped up in the carriage blankets and an old oil-cloth the coachman had, and I thought nothing of it.”

“Your father likely did.”

“Well, yes.” Still chuckling, John shook his head. “He was a deal older than I. But my point is that I have changed from that time to this.” He turned toward her, the laughter gone, but the luminous shine in his eyes still there. “We have both changed, Judith.”

“Yes, we have.” Drastically, and yet in no fundamental way. Her heart hurt with a sudden longing to lose herself in his gaze.

That would never do.

Struggling to return to a less dangerous topic of conversation, she circled back to the matter at hand. “I meant to say before that I see no problem with your accommodations. It is simply that my father has been livid ever since we learned of Lord Downing’s scheme and his holding Anna a virtual prisoner. I am afraid when the two men finally meet, there will be a dreadful altercation.”

“Do not worry on that account.” John patted her hand and, remarkably, she felt soothed. “I will be with them when they meet. Hopefully, my presence alone will act as a deterrent to their hot heads, but I will intervene physically if need be.” He kissed her hand. “Do not distress yourself, Judith. I promise you I will make certain they do not come to blows if I must launch myself into the fray.”

“You have always been my champion, John.” Their gazes met.

He leaned forward, and Judith gasped and held her breath.

“Mrs. Harper.”

They jumped apart, Judith’s hand going to her heart, which wanted to leap out of her chest. The butler had come upon them so quietly she’d not been aware they were no longer alone. “Yes, Inman?” She needed to catch her breath.

“This letter just arrived for you.” He held it out on a silver tray.

Hands shaking, Judith took it, staring with loathing at handwriting she remembered extremely well. She sent a stricken look to John then took a deep breath. “Thank you, Inman, that will be all.” Waiting until the servant was out of earshot, Judith sent John a weak smile.

“I am here if you have need of me, my dear.”

She popped the black sealing wax and unfolded the letter. The few lines scratched across the foolscap filled her with dread.

Mrs. Harper,

I have received your letter informing me of your intent to travel to Wiltshire in an attempt to take my grandchild from me and the only home she has ever known. Such an endeavor is ill advised. If my daughter has not already done so, I will inform you that Anna is now my heir and as such will remain at Harper’s Grange until she marries. For you to seek guardianship of the child is futile as the courts have, quite rightly, assigned that role to myself and Lady Downing as her paternal grandparents. Your proposed trip here would, therefore, be a complete waste of your time. If you do not reconsider your actions, I will be forced to take my own.

Lord Downing

Speechless, Judith let the paper fall from her fingers to the table. How could the court rule in favor of Lord Downing?

“May I?” John indicated the letter, and she nodded automatically. What did it matter who saw it? He perused it quickly and grunted. “I wonder what action he believes he can take other than barring the door against you?”

“What more does he need to do, John?” Trembling all over, Judith stared out at the beautiful garden that might as well be in ashes for all the joy it would give her from now on. “He has my child. He will make certain I never see her again. He will keep her at the Grange all her life so she will never know me. She will grow up and I will not be there to see it.” Great, harrowing sobs shook her whole body. “I cannot bear it, John. I cannot.”

“My dear.” He enfolded her in his arms, pressing her against his firm chest. “Perhaps it is not as bleak as it first seems.”

“How is it not?”

“Well,” he fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her, “I suspect when Lord Downing applied to be Anna’s guardian, he gave as reason his son’s death and your incapacity. Those two circumstances would render the child all but an orphan, therefore making Downing’s argument valid. However, those circumstances have changed.” John sat her back in her chair, and Judith blew her nose and wiped her eyes. “You are no longer without your faculties. You are now perfectly capable of caring for your daughter, especially here at your ancestral home with your parents. When we put this argument before the Court of Chancery, I believe they will see that guardianship must be granted to you instead of the grandparents.”

“Do you truly think so, John?” He seemed so sure that Judith saw a glimmer of hope.

“I do.” He smiled and smoothed her hair back behind her ear where it had come loose. “If you will allow, I shall write to my solicitor in London straightway, give him the particulars, and ask his opinion of how you should proceed.”

“How long do you think that should take?” She wished to be off immediately, but if John was sending to London, they might be waiting for quite a while yet.

“A week at most to get an answer.” John’s drawn countenance lifted. “Although, if your parents are amenable, we could journey immediately to London to confer with Blanchard, my solicitor. It is on the way to Wiltshire and then as soon as we receive his determination about the guardianship, we can continue to Harper’s Grange.”

“That is a marvelous plan.” It might also be prudent to take the journey in easy stages. She had no idea how well she would travel. “I will inform Mamma of the scheme as soon as we go in.” She beamed at John, surely the kindest man she had ever met. “I don’t know what I would do without you, John.”

“I’m certain you would carry on as you always have.” He had dropped his gaze to the letter on the table. “You were ever a resourceful woman.” Picking up the letter, he turned it over and over in his hand. “Why did you marry Simon Harper all those years ago?”