Conduct Unbecoming of a Gentleman Page 2

  “He’s so precious. May I hold him?” Paige held out her arms and Jamie lunged at her. She took him and laughed.

  “Paige,” Adron warned, “he’s not one of your dolls. He’s a young child so be careful.”

  “I will,” she promised.

  “There’s a wagon, some blocks and the like in the old nursery but first, take him to the housekeeper. He needs out of those wet things at once.”

  Reluctant to face his grandmother again, Adron watched as Paige headed up the stairs cooing at the boy.

  “And exactly where is the mother?”

  “Gran,” he cautioned between his teeth. “Your tone suggests I’m still in leading strings held in your hand.”

  “No such thing,” she scolded. “A child that young does not travel without a nurse or mother. Where is she?”

  Heat traveled up his face and he frowned. “There was an accident with the carriage . . .”

  She gasped. “Don’t say she’s dead.”

  “She isn’t dead,” he denied, and his brows pleated with annoyance. This was exactly the ticklish situation he’d envisioned but wished to avoid. Shame washed through him and he swallowed hard. “She was perfectly fine when I left her.”

  One hand went to Heloise’s throat and her mouth worked. “You’re giving me palpitations. Are you saying you abandoned her? Left her to fend for herself and in a wrecked carriage no less?”

  “She’s not stranded nor is she alone. I paid the driver handsomely to see her back to Landings.”

  Heloise clicked her tongue. “That’s not worthy of you, Adron. How could you do such a dastardly thing?” she demanded in a sardonic tone.

  “She was absconding with my ward. Robert’s son, Gran. Robert’s son.”

  “I know you and your cousin were close but your actions are atrocious. Not what I’ve come to expect from you as a gentleman.”

  His jaw tightened. “A gentleman you say. She deserves no such treatment. The selfish little baggage drove Robert to his death with her flighty ways. The heartless jade is a beauty. In point of fact, a diamond of the first water, blonde, blue-eyes and utterly without a single finer feeling. A little hardship will teach her a much needed lesson.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Because your mother was blonde doesn’t mean all blondes are terrible mothers.” Heloise glared at him.

  “Rhonda told me she used her youth and beauty to trap Robert into marriage. She was after his wealth but when he returned a cripple, she rejected him.”

  “I have no doubt because the widow was blonde you found Rhonda’s tale easier to believe.” Heloise jutted her chin out at him.

  “That has nothing to say to anything. Mother loved attention and parties, as does Lady Laningham.” His tone became dismissive. “Blonde hair is not the problem.”

  “Don’t hold your past grievances against the child’s mother.”

  Adron chose to ignore her remarks. The low regard he held for his neglectful mother had in no way influenced his determination to guard Robert’s son. His jaw tightened. He was above such pettiness, but suddenly recalled Laurel’s silvery blonde tresses. Exhaling a deep breath, he tried to compare any resemblance between the two women. His mother had died when he was only eleven, but he recalled her golden blonde hair and the widow’s tresses were not near the same shade. “Nonsense. Being blonde had nothing to do with the situation. When Rhonda sent a servant to inform me of her sister-in-law’s flight, I had to take a hand. Robert left his son in my care to guard and I intend to do just that. Lady Laningham’s wayward conduct is appalling just as Rhonda reported. I shan’t allow her to influence my ward any further.” Vindicated in his own eyes, he glared at his grandmother from under his brows.

  “Will you listen to yourself? You’re hot tempered but I’ve never known you to be cruel. Think about what you’re doing.”

  “If it hadn’t been for Rhonda,” he growled, “I might never have seen Jamie again. I won’t fail Robert this time.”

  “Humph. It was the war. No blame to you.”

  “He took a bullet meant for me. I failed to see the trap until the last minute. I told you that.” With a downward stroke of his hand, he emphasized his point.

  “Yes, but the trap didn’t catch you completely off guard.”

  “No, my survival instincts finally brought me to my senses but Robert is still dead.” A bleak sensation swept through him and he was more determined than ever to guard his cousin’s son.

  “There’s no reason to take your guilt out on the widow.”

  “I’m not,” he said, his tone harsh and deep. “Robert left his son in my charge.”

  “Not without his mother,” she snapped.

  Robert deserved his loyalty but explaining the situation to his grandmother chewed at his nerves. Adron exhaled a deep breath. “I take Rhonda’s word for her sister-in-law’s character flaws over any other and my ward must be protected, even from his mother.”

  “Rhonda is my niece, but she’s a spoiled, jealous little madam and at least I’m not blind to her faults.”

  “As Robert’s twin she has a right to protect his son. And she was only doing her duty.” He lifted his chin. “I won’t argue with you over this. The child is under my protection now and that’s an end to it.”

  “You’re impossible.” She threw up her hands and left him standing looking after her.

  Adron turned on his heel and entered his library, his favorite place to think or brood as his grandmother liked to label his desire to be alone. Could there be a grain of truth in his grandmother’s accusations? Being old and set in her ways, she always rejected all but her on opinions with no room to consider she might be wrong. Still, had he unfairly snatched the child from his mother’s arms because of his prejudices? He didn’t want to believe such a thing but he needed to take a long, clear look at his motives.

  Determined to judge his actions fairly, he admitted the widow’s helpless appeal had pierced him to the quick, but he’d managed to erect a shield against her. He shuddered to think how easily he could have fallen under her spell.

  Adron drew a deep breath. After all he’d been told, he wouldn’t let such a female lure him into her web. Considering his actions justified for both himself and his ward, he shoved the last prickle of guilt to the side. He nodded in satisfaction and settled back in his chair.

  After riding through a steady drizzle, Laurel was soaked to the skin. Wiping her face, she surveyed her surroundings. The landscape was gray, drab with mist as the gathering fog shrouded the trees and obscured the road ahead. Her breath streamed out into a thin vapor and she shivered in the chilled air. Laurel loosened her grip on the reins to flex her fingers and shake the numbness from her hands. The slow plod of the horse frayed her nerves and she forced back a scream of frustration. Laurel urged her mount to a faster clip. With the increased pace, puffs of air shot out of her horse’s nostrils to mix with the damp air while her own breathing came in agitated gulps.

  For a moment, doubt shook her. Surely she hadn’t mistaken the way? She peered ahead and recognized the terrain in the distance, due to Robert having once pointed out the stone pillars guarding the entrance of Kendlewood Estates. She exhaled a long sigh and relief washed over her.

  A few elm trees mingled with the oak forest bordering the road and white blossoms of snowdrops littered the landscape as if flung from a careless hand. She rode through the gate, continuing down the long drive.

  Laurel urged her horse forward through the gloom-wrapped trees that hovered in the shadows and an eerier sensation crept over her. Her shoulders slumped with relief when she viewed welcoming light spill through a few windows. She would soon hold Jamie in her arms again.

  Once at the main stairs, she slid from her mount’s back, stomping the kinks from her sore muscles. Her stomach roiled. No matter her recept
ion, she knew she’d come to the correct place.

  Laurel climbed the stairs to the entrance and vigorously plied the brass knocker. The door opened and a portly man in livery stood there. His brows shot up.

  “Miss?” His attitude reeked with censure and he gave a disapproving sniff.

  Laurel hesitated. “This is the Kendlewood estate is it not?”

  Before the servant could answer, Laurel heard Jamie screaming.

  “Jamie,” she cried, pushing past the servant. She rushed into the house toward the stairs.

  “Miss, Miss,” he called. “Halt. You’re not allowed up there.”

  Chapter 2

  The child’s wail echoed down the hall and concern pricked at Adron. Rising from his chair, he started for the door when his attention was caught by his butler’s agitated voice. He raced across the room and came face-to-face with the widow. She tried to dart past him, but he caught her wrist. Adron could scarcely credit she’d followed so closely on his heels or that she had followed him at all. “Here now. Not so fast.”

  “You. You cur. Let me go,” she screamed and rounded on him.

  He stared down into her angry, flashing azure blue eyes and his heart skipped a beat. Astonished by such determination and passion displayed by this woman in her attempt to reclaim her son, his fingers relaxed slightly. She returned his regard and her glare seared into his very being. Lowering his lids, he drew a deep breath. Her hand trembled in his grasp, piercing him to the core and he dropped her arm like he’d picked up a hot coal. “Calm yourself.”

  “I’m as calm as I’m likely to be when my son is snatched from my arms.”

  “Beg pardon. Perhaps that was unnecessarily cruel of me but I couldn’t allow you to disappear with my ward.” Adron grimaced. “I shouldn’t have allowed anger to direct my actions.”

  “That’s absurd. I wasn’t disappearing with my son but I agree about your temper.” She pivoted and raced toward the stairs.

  “Here now,” he called. She’d completely ignored his wishes and dared to continue up the stairs. Her conduct set his temper on fire. “I say. Come back here immediately.”

  Pompous ass. Laurel vaulted up the steps, his command echoed in her head above the heavy pounding of her heart. She paid no heed, dashing into the room to find Jamie sobbing in the arms of a plump little woman. Laurel was glad to see the sympathetic look in the servant’s eyes as she tried to sooth the child.

  “Jamie,” Laurel choked. The child raised his head, stopped crying and reached toward her. She quickly crossed the room.

  “Here let me,” she commanded, her heart in her throat. Laurel grabbed a blanket to protect Jamie from her wet garments and gathered him in her arms. With a whimper, he collapsed and cuddled against her shoulder.

  “He tried to pull up and fell,” the maid said.

  The door flung open and nearly bounced against the wall before Lord Gladrey stayed the motion. “How dare you invade my home?”

  Her stare blazed with anger and she yelled, “You stole my son.”

  Jamie roused and whimpered at the raised voices. Laurel patted his back for only moments and his eyes slowly drifted closed in exhausted sleep. Lord Gladrey motioned for the maid to take the child, but Laurel shook her head. She gingerly stepped to the side of the crib, tucked her child under the covers and secured the netting around the bed.

  Spinning to face her enemy, she smoldered with fury. His broad shouldered form towered over her, intimidating and stern. Even in her heightened state of agitation his appearance made an impact. Now that Jamie was safe, she perused her enemy and admitted that in a chilling sort of way, his chiseled features were handsome. Dark hair queued at his neck and piercing brown eyes did little to soften the austere image, but as cold as he appeared, there was still something about him that called to her. His appeal frightened her even more and she stepped back.

  Turning to the housekeeper, he instructed, “See to it that Lady Laningham has dry clothing. My grandmother’s apparel should be suitable.”

  “Your grandmother,” Laurel echoed.

  He inclined his head. “Exactly so. Have you any objections?”

  She hesitated, indignant, certain the offer of his grandmother’s garments was meant as an insult. “Certainly not. I appreciate the offer.”

  “I wouldn’t want your death on my conscience. I’ll expect you in my library shortly,” he announced and strode from the room.

  Caring a single candle, Laurel stepped into the dimly lit chamber and peered around. His grandmother’s offerings were piled on the narrow bed and after placing the light on a small table, she plucked a dry chemise from the pile. Stripping out of most of her wet clothing she sighed and tackled the removal of her corset. She struggled with the damp laces until a curse burst from her lips. “High fashion be damned.”

  Her patience was at an end when she managed to slip free of the damp corset, kicking the offending garment into the shadows. Taking a deep breath she searched for a gown that would bolster her courage when she faced Lord Gladrey. That was the important thing. “No sense getting in a pet over a trifle.” Laurel discovered a dry corset among the apparel, but would never be able to tie the laces without help. With a heavy sigh, she laid the garment aside. Donning the dry undergarments, she hoped the gown she selected would fit without the corset.

  Slipping into a gown of light gray cambric with a square neckline, she discovered the skirt was short by a few inches and the neckline was unfashionably high, but at least the flounce adequately swung against her ankles. Laurel stepped into low-heeled shoes and with a twist, adjusted her gown, lingering over the task as long as she dared. Straightening the sleeves and smoothing the narrow sash under her breast, she glanced at her reflection. Dissatisfied, she rearranged her hair.

  Laurel sniffed and glared at her reflection in the looking glass, patting the last curl into place. She turned and hastened to the door. A waiting footman directed her to the library. Her grievances stirred again and her ire climbed along with her chin. Lord Gladrey deserved a good tongue lashing at the very least.

  Adron opened the top drawer of his desk in his private sitting room and withdrew a miniature portrait hinged to another. Robert and Rhonda, his twin cousins’ likenesses stared out at him. He ran one finger down Robert’s picture, his cousin and best friend. Needing a reminder of exactly why he must hold firm against the widow, he studied the image. Grief clawed at Adron. This was his blame. Robert should not have been the one to die. Adron’s stomach roiled at the thought of his cousin’s untimely death as he replaced the miniatures in the drawer and with determined strides made his way to the library.

  Adron’s lips firmed. He would keep his cousins’ son safe at all cost.

  Laurel met Lord Gladrey in the hallway outside his library and a quick perusal of his stern expression filled her with trepidation. After she entered the room, he shut the door with a snap and a young man jumped up from behind the desk.

  “Milord.”

  “Edmond, I thought you had finished long since. You’re a prince among secretaries to never complain of the amount of work I saddle you with.”

  Color rose to Edmond’s hairline. “By no means, Milord.”

  “Lady Laningham and I have a few things to discuss.”

  “As you wish.” Edmond bowed and exited. Lord Gladrey waited until his secretary shut the door before motioning to a chair in front of his imposing desk. She wasn’t intimidated, or perhaps she was, but this was not the time for weakness. With a stubborn lift of her chin, she stood beside the chair.

  Lord Gladrey settled behind his desk. The vastness of that particular piece of furniture increased her unease. The towering shelves along two walls held tomes that seemed to stare down at her, poised to attack.

  With a thin smile, he raised one brow. “I regret not having the opportunity to meet
you before you married Robert,” he said in a mocking voice. “But I was already with my troops in Spain.”

  His obvious disapproval tightened every nerve in her body. Despite her efforts her tone grew defensive. “We married rather quickly,” she admitted. “He wanted me to be secure when he left.”

  “Rumor has it he was blinded by your beauty, understandable but beside the point. We’re here to discuss Jamie. I’m the child’s guardian now and it would be in your best interest to accept that fact.” He paused as if to allow his words to sink in. “I’m also a man of some standing.”

  His reasoning set her teeth on edge. “Bully for you,” she blurted out.

  One corner of his mouth curved up in a sardonic smile. “Indeed. It’s not wise to set yourself against me,” he warned in an even tone.

  Adron didn’t say another word as he intently studied her. He allowed his gaze to drift from her silvery blonde hair, down her delicate face, dissecting each lovely feature, to her shapely form. His gaze shifted back to her countenance and the fearful expression in her enormous eyes. To disguise the fear and anger lurking in her gaze, she’d elevated her chin, but her white knuckles gave her away. He admired her bravado, but was determined she wouldn’t take advantage of him as she had his cousin. By Robert’s own admission, she’d exploited his weakness for her.

  In Robert’s letter appointing Adron guardian to his son, he’d mentioned his love and hate for his beautiful, passionate wife. Rhonda’s whispering of Laurel’s betrayal of her useless husband boiled Adron’s blood and his fury rose against her. At first glance she didn’t appear capable of deceit, but appearances were often deceptive. Gazing at the widow, he could fully understand why Robert had loved her. Although he recognized the tortured mind of a wounded, impotent body, perhaps he should have allowed more emphases on his cousin’s condition before taking Jamie. Perchance, he should take a moment to reconsider his actions.