Page 25 of A Countess of Convenience

“Judith, my dear, you are not well enough—”

“I will go tomorrow, Miles, and neither you nor anyone else will stop me.” The conviction in her words seemed to shrivel his argument. “Whether Mamma will accompany me is the pressing issue. If she will not and,” she glanced at her mother, caressing her father’s brow, and sighed, “I believe she will not wish to leave Pappa’s side, then I will take a maid for propriety’s sake and be off.”

“There is nothing worse than a determined woman.” Miles looked from Judith to her mother and a glimmer of a smile touched his lips. “May I suggest that if you must go, you should arrange to take the trip in easy stages? Try to be on the road no longer than six hours a day and take nourishment whenever you stop to change the horses. It does you no good to reach Wiltshire only to have to take to your bed for a week.”

For a moment, Judith wished with all her heart that Miles would be accompanying her on this journey. He seemed so self-assured, so confident. Of course, she would have John’s guidance both on the journey and in London. There was truly no one she could trust more.

The only problem left, then, was to devise a way to uphold the proprieties, to keep a scandal at bay that would force her and John to marry, against the will of at least one of them.

Chapter 9

“Lord Haxby, ma’am.” Inman bowed and left the room as John entered, a lightness to his step. “I have it at last, my dears.” He waved a thick letter in the air. “Blanchard has finally written, and I came here straight away.”

“Thank goodness, John.” Judith glanced at her parents, her father sprawled in the wingback chair before the fireplace in their bed chamber, her mother beside him, helping him negotiate his tea. It had been a trying ten days since his fit, and it had born uncertain fruit. “Please be seated. What does he say?”

“I did not stop even to read it, I fear, but called for my horse and headed here at a gallop.” John smiled, and Judith took him at his word. “As you have been more than patient in waiting for this letter, it was the least I could do.”

Between her father’s illness and her own uncertain health, Judith had reluctantly allowed John to persuade her to remain at Ruecroft while he wrote to his solicitor in London for advice on the matter of Anna’s guardianship. The man had taken his time, apparently, so John had been as eager to hear from him as she.

He broke the wax seal and opened the missive, at least three sheets of foolscap written on both sides in small, neat handwriting. “Shall I read it aloud?”

“No.” Judith shook her head. Now that the time was here, she found she wanted to know at once, not to find out line by line. “Read it quickly then tell me.”

He nodded and commenced to read, his face a study as he turned page after page. When his lips drew in on themselves, Judith began to tremble so hard she had to set her cup down. The news must be bad indeed for John’s pleasant face to become so drawn and grave.

She touched his arm, and he looked up. “Tell me.”

Sighing, he leaned back, gazing at the letter as though it were a serpent he would’ve liked to kill but couldn’t. “Blanchard writes that he has looked into the petition put forward by Lord and Lady Downing for the guardianship of Anna Harper, minor child of Mr. Simon Harper, deceased, and Mrs. Judith Harper, widow.”

Judith gritted her teeth. “Go on.”

“According to the petition, as the child’s father was killed and her mother has been insensible for the past four months, Lord Downing solicited for custody to assure the child of a loving home and affection until such time as she came of age or married with her guardians’ consent.”

“He intends to keep her until she’s of age?” Judith’s voice carried so loudly her parents turned their heads to stare. “I beg pardon, Mamma, Pappa. The news from John’s solicitor is disturbing.”

“D…damned time.” Pappa pursed his lips or attempted to. “W…what’s it say?”

“John is reading it now, Pappa. Then he will tell me, without all the legal Latin terms, and I can convey it to you.” Judith held her breath. If her father became difficult and wished the letter read aloud, the wait to find out her daughter’s fate might kill her.

“V’ry well.” Her father turned back to Mamma, his tension relaxing. She patted his good arm and beamed at him. The devotion between the two of them was so evident a sightless person could see it. If only Judith’s marriage had been like that.

“Hurry.” She gripped John’s arm. “I must know.”

“Just a moment more.” Concentration etched itself on John’s face as he raced through the letter. At last, he set the pages on the table and sat back. “Downing had a sound case, unfortunately.”

Judith’s gasp caught in her throat.

“The fact that the child had, to all practical purposes, no parents was a strong point with the court. Downing’s solicitor argued that even though Mrs. Harper was still alive, she was incapacitated to the extent that it would be impossible for her to care for the minor child. And as Mrs. Harper’s own parents would shortly be taking care of her, they would have no time to care for the girl either. Hence, Lord and Lady Downing would be the better guardians, especially in light of the fact the child had never known another home.” John set the papers on the table. “The decree has been recorded in the Chancery Court. Blanchard says we can petition to have it changed if we can show that there are extenuating or otherwise extraordinary circumstances that would merit a reconsideration.”

How could the courts be so blind? Had no one told them… “Do they even know I am recovered?”

“Likely not. Downing sent in the guardianship papers months ago. He had no idea you had regained your sensibilities.” John grunted. “I daresay had he known he still would not have given the courts that information. Why give away his advantage?”

“Why indeed.” Wretched man. What she wouldn’t give to have his undivided attention for ten minutes. She’d show him just how well she’d recovered her faculties. “Would not my recuperation be deemed extraordinary circumstances?”

“Yes, of course it would, my dear.” John’s countenance brightened. “You are now fully able to take care of your child, just as you would have done had you not been ill. I must believe this information will move the courts to change the guardianship back to you.”

“Does your solicitor hold out that hope, John, or is that only the voice of you wishing it so?” Something in the back of her mind told her that her predicament would not be so easily remedied.