Reunited With Her Viscount Protector

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Peter’s grin appeared to freeze on his face. ‘You are Lord Sterling?’ he eventually burbled.

‘I am.’ Jack gave a slow nod.

‘Well...what splendid news. While you are in the vicinity you are very welcome to visit the vicarage whenever you wish, my lord.’ Peter gave an obsequious bow.

Dawn darted a glance from beneath her lashes at Jack. He was watching for her reaction to the news he was an aristocrat. She was surprised to hear of his elevation, but then there had been no reason or opportunity for him to discuss his business with her. Years ago, when she’d believed them to be growing closer, he’d told her a little bit about his family. He was the younger son of a baron with a meagre allowance and few prospects, he’d said. She’d known things were different for him now. Emma’s husband had described his friend’s change in circumstances as Valance having found his feet and his fortune. And in rather a magnificent way, it seemed.

‘While you are in Essex, my lord, you must meet some of the local dignitaries,’ Peter declared, strutting to and fro across the rug. ‘I would most happily attend any social function you hold at the Grange and bring the bishop along with me to introduce you...’

‘As you are in mourning, sir, I doubt you would wish to socialise for some while,’ Jack smoothly said. ‘In any case, I have no plans to entertain during my brief stay, so you will miss nothing at Croxley Grange.’

Dawn had listened to the vicar’s blatant social climbing with mounting disgust. Not a single word or look to mark his guilt or sorrow on losing his wife. Yet, before the wreath on his front door had withered he was shamelessly wheedling for an invitation to dine with the new owner of the big house.

‘I deeply regret that I did not have a chance to become better acquainted with your wife.’ Jack knew he had the fellow squirming and he wasn’t about to let him off the hook. What he was determined to do was get Dawn what she wanted, and what the child needed. And what he needed. In London she would be close to him.

‘My stepdaughter would have liked an opportunity to know you better, too, sir,’ Dawn blurted out when it seemed Peter was intending to remain tight-lipped about his dead wife. Moreover he now appeared sullen. Well, let him sulk! She would not allow Eleanor to be forgotten so easily, or to be kept from a conversation to protect his ego!

Jack crouched down to stroke a finger on Lily’s soft cheek and be rewarded with a shy smile. ‘Mrs Mansfield’s daughter is her image; a lasting tribute to her mother. You must be very proud of your little girl, sir.’

Peter made a non-committal noise, fiddling with his neckcloth and his perambulation of the room became speedier.

‘Yes, indeed, she is like her mama.’ Dawn again broke the silence and she gave Jack a grateful smile. Although no word of a plan of action had passed between them she sensed he’d decided to be her ally against Lily’s father.

‘Have you arranged tea for Lord Sterling?’ Peter barked. He resented being put in his place. He barely glanced at Lily even though a pointed reference had been made to her. In turn the little girl seemed oblivious to the fact her father was close by.

‘I want no tea, thank you,’ Jack said, straightening up.

‘Please take some port, then, my lord.’ Peter didn’t want to lose his illustrious guest before he’d inveigled himself into the fellow’s good books. He was also inquisitive about what was to become of the largest estate for miles around. He strode to the sideboard and poured two glasses of ruby wine without offering Dawn a drink. ‘Do take a seat, my lord; you must tell me all about your plans for Croxley Grange.’ He gave Dawn a sharp nod so she would sit down, allowing the gentlemen to do likewise.

Dawn returned to her chair, not for the vicar’s sake, but for her own. She also wanted to keep Jack Valance’s company. For as long as possible. After days of being battered by anguish, his presence today had actually lifted her spirits, made her feel more alive than could even Lily’s sweet company. Constantly fretting over her granddaughter’s bleak future living with a parent who seemed careless of her existence was guaranteed to depress Dawn.

‘We heard the house was run-down and had been returned to the Crown on the death of the previous owner. Viscount Welham had no heir. He was an odd fellow—kept very much to himself and sadly contributed little to the community.’ Peter took a swig from his glass. ‘It was most disappointing that the man was no proper benefactor to good causes as one in his position should be.’

‘The Grange will be restored to a sound condition—other than that I have no plans for any major changes.’ Jack politely sipped at the port that had been forced into his hand, then placed the glass on a table.

‘Oh...a great pity, sir; the presence of gentlemen of your standing is sorely needed in the area.’

‘I will give to local charities, whether or not in residence in Essex,’ Jack said with a hint of a sardonic smile.

Dawn glanced at him, biting her lip on her own faint amusement. So Mr Valance, or Lord Sterling, as she supposed she ought to think of him, was aware that the vicar was brazen with his begging bowl for church funds.

‘If I may ask, sir, what plans have you for your daughter’s care following your wife’s sad passing?’ Jack sat back in his chair and turned a relentless gaze on the vicar. ‘Your work obviously keeps you occupied late into the evening at times. When I came upon you on the evening of the tragedy you were still on duty.’ Jack knew very well that on the night he had fetched the vicar back to his dying wife’s bedside, the man had been miles away in a bawdy house. Mansfield had made a blustered explanation of his presence upstairs. It was his calling to preach against sin, and as though to prove it, he’d produced a bible from his pocket.

‘Indeed, I am busy,’ Peter said pompously, barely blushing at what his guest had alluded to. ‘A wedding here and a funeral there and all manner of sick and needy folk taking up my time. Of course I will always be available to you, my lord.’ Peter had been pleased to receive a prompt payment from Sterling for the servant’s funeral.

‘Will you hire a nurse locally to care for your daughter or engage a woman from an agency in London?’ Jack wasn’t to be put off pursuing his goal.

Peter gave a heavy sigh, wondering what ailed the man to be constantly bothering with domestic issues that were none of his concern. ‘I suppose something of the sort will eventually be done. But I have a servant here during the day and the child is docile enough to need little attention.’ He turned to Dawn. ‘Surely it is time for her nap.’ He flapped a hand to let Dawn know he wanted Lily removed from the room.

‘She has only recently woken up,’ Dawn said truthfully and with a hint of stubbornness. ‘And Mrs Grove is to retire from your service, as you know, sir, so will not be here at any time to care for Lily.’ The cook had just that morning told Dawn she’d informed the vicar of her intention to quit. ‘Lily must never be left alone, she is far too young—’

‘I believe I know my duty to her,’ Peter interrupted. ‘A new woman will soon be engaged in Mrs Grove’s stead.’

Dawn wasn’t about to be put off by his stony stare or clipped words. ‘Lily needs to be properly nurtured. She is a lively child at times and very bright. She should be occupied and educated with toys and books and cared for by somebody who cherishes her. She is my granddaughter and I have offered to take her with me to London so you may attend to your duties here. And I will do that at no cost to you at all, sir.’ Having rattled that off, Dawn paused for a breath.

‘Why, that sounds like an excellent idea, Mrs Fenton,’ Jack declared heartily, ignoring the furious floridity that was rising above Mansfield’s collar. ‘If the vicar is agreeable to that sensible solution I know our mutual friends will be delighted to have Lily as a playmate for Viscount Booth.’

‘Viscount Booth?’ Peter echoed stiffly.

‘The Earl of Houndsmere’s firstborn. Lance Harley is a good friend of mine. He mentioned to me only the other day at dinner that in his opinion children need friends from an early age if they are to thrive. Your daughter, I would say, is about the same age as their son and would make an ideal companion.’

‘I believe that friends are important, too,’ Dawn spoke up with a private smile for Jack to thank him. ‘And so does the Countess of Houndsmere believe in children socialising. Emma would gladly welcome Lily into her home as readily as she does me. Young Bernard is a delightful little boy and would adore having Lily to play with.’

The Reverend Peter Mansfield was aware that Dawn had lofty friends, but he’d paid the connection scant heed before, as he’d never seen a way to benefit from it. Now he suspected he might. He also suspected something else. ‘You are previously acquainted?’ He swung a glance between the couple.

‘Indeed, we have known one another for many years,’ Jack confirmed. ‘Mrs Fenton and I have close mutual friends in the Earl and Countess of Houndsmere. It is a very odd coincidence that we met by chance in Essex. Would that a happy rather than sad event had occasioned it.’

Dawn was discreetly watching for Peter’s reaction and a burgeoning optimism started to make her heart race. Though she displayed not a jot of her feelings she was sure the vicar was considering the likely benefits to be had from his daughter getting to know an earl’s heir.

Jack had been observing Mansfield, too, and knew it would be as well to act immediately. He got up and walked to the window, looking out with a heavy sigh. ‘It is hard to believe that the recent fine spring weather has so quickly disappeared. I shall need to return to London without delay. I cannot be snowbound when I have important meetings in London to attend. Those clouds blowing in look threatening. A heavy fall followed by a thaw will flood the roads for weeks.’ He turned back and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘If you wish to travel home with me today, Mrs Fenton, I have a good coach and a fast team of horses. We can outrun the worst of it with ease.’

‘I would like that, sir, thank you.’ Was this really happening? Dawn thought wildly. Was she really going home—so soon, please, God—with her beloved granddaughter at her side?

‘Will it take you long to pack, ma’am?’

Dawn forced herself to sound calm when replying, ‘Not at all, sir.’ And that was the truth. With all the commotion that had met her arrival Dawn had only removed a few necessary items from her trunk. All that was required was those to be replaced and the lid to be dropped down again.

‘And your daughter, sir? Is she sensibly to come with us while you attend to planning her future and engaging the necessary staff?’ Jack’s tone of voice made it clear he would think the vicar a fool if he refused.

‘Yes...you may take the dear child to London then, I suppose.’ Peter gave a gracious nod. ‘In her absence I will endeavour to sort out a suitable nurse until a governess can take over the task.’

‘I expect it will take many months to find the right candidate,’ Jack said. ‘In the meantime you will be content knowing your daughter is perfectly well cared for and is making fine new friends in London.’

‘I’ll pack Lily’s things with mine,’ Dawn blurted, standing up, wanting to make ready for the journey straight away. She felt an urge to dash to Jack and hug him for what he’d done for her, but knew she must not act in any way that might pique the vicar’s resentful nature. She managed to manoeuvre into position to send Jack a look that she hoped he would understand. She wanted him to wait and take them with him now. Once he was gone, even if only briefly before returning to collect them, Peter might brood and retract what he’d just agreed to.

Jack walked away from the window where he’d been studying storm clouds and picked up his drink. ‘If I might impose on you, Mrs Fenton, would you hurry, please? I shall wait for you to ready yourself. It would be expedient to set on the road without delay.’ He paused. ‘In the meantime I will speak to the vicar and hear of his plans for the upkeep of the church. I have noticed, sir, that the perimeter wall of the graveyard appears unstable.’ Jack took a sip of his port. ‘Is the roof in good repair?’

As though to add her weight to the decision to flee this house Lily sprang up and started whizzing about the room, whirling her dolly in a hand.

‘Oh, do take her away with you,’ Peter snapped impatiently.

‘I will be ready to set off when you are, Mrs Fenton. I have nothing of note to collect from the Grange other than my valet. And he will follow when he is ready. We should be back in London by nightfall.’

‘Thank you.’ Dawn waited for his eyes to skim past the vicar and tangle with hers, as she knew they would. But though he displayed no more than polite friendliness in his smile Dawn knew what was in his mind. Her triumph and pleasure were equally hidden. The Reverend Peter Mansfield must never understand how overjoyed she was to have her beloved granddaughter going home with her.

Chapter Six (#u9593a350-3558-553c-a3c1-7abe38055eaf)

‘I will always be in your debt, my lord. I don’t know how I can ever repay you for the wonderful help you gave to me and to Lily.’

No flirting, Jack told himself sternly as a rogue thought of how he’d like this desirable woman to please him infiltrated his mind. He gazed into a pair of glowing green eyes, then leaned forward on the coach seat to take the slender fingers she held out to him. She squeezed his hands strongly in gratitude and he caressed the soft skin beneath his thumbs. It was innocent, he told himself, letting her go and gazing out into the gathering gloom. There was nothing seductive in a kind touch.

‘There is one thing you can do for me that will be ample reward,’ he said with a half-smile. ‘No more “my lord”, please. I remember you called me Jack years ago, at my insistence, it’s true. And I believe you permitted me to use your name, when we were alone.’

‘I would like that, sir...’ Dawn gestured a bashful apology as he raised a wry eyebrow. ‘It is a habit that I will soon break now I feel we are becoming friends.’

‘I hope we are already friends, Dawn,’ he said quietly, but held back on hinting he intended they’d eventually be more than that. Since their reunion in London he’d spent just a few hours in her company, yet she’d already crept back beneath his skin. It wasn’t so long ago he’d sworn he’d never again let Dawn Sanders mean too much to him. Yet within a week of being home in England his sensible intention of avoiding her had been overtaken by a restless need to be wherever she was. He had arranged to dine with their mutual friends, guessing that the Houndsmeres would invite her along, too. He’d also guessed she might stay away to avoid him and she had. But it had done nothing to lessen his need to see her. He’d rather be spurned than know she was indifferent to his presence. Spotting her on Regent Street had been a stroke of luck. Once he’d spoken to her, he’d known she was no more immune to him than he was to her.

After that meeting all logic had been overtaken by memories of how much he’d once wanted her. He had a mistress who was sensual and amiable enough to satisfy his need for female company, yet he’d taken Pauline home from Regent Street that day and hadn’t visited her since. She had twice called on him, though, uninvited and much to his annoyance, to try to rekindle their relationship.

Jack hadn’t had a pressing reason to travel to Essex. Once he’d discovered that Dawn was heading in that direction he’d decided to visit his estate in the hope of seeing her again. Now he thanked the Lord he had set out on the road, even if for mile upon mile he’d mocked himself for acting like a moonstruck fool obsessed with his first maid. But that was forgotten now, overtaken by genuine relief that he’d been in the right place at the right time to be of service. He felt immensely glad to be removing Dawn and her granddaughter from Mansfield’s clutches and the depressing atmosphere at the vicarage.

Despite all of that, he regretted that the timing couldn’t have been more inappropriate to hint at how they had once felt about one another. He still wanted her and hoped she still had similar feelings for him. But holding her, soothing her with kisses and caresses, as a lover would, had to wait. For now kind words and condolences must suffice. Jack knew for decency’s sake he must be very patient. Dawn needed to deal with the consuming heartache that was preventing her turning her thoughts to anything other than her granddaughter’s welfare.

Jack looked at the little girl stretched out beside her youthful grandma with her head on Dawn’s lap. ‘She quickly dropped off to sleep after her upset.’

‘I’m sorry Lily made such a dreadful racket. She can be mischievous at times, but is usually easily distracted from it.’ Dawn placed a loving hand on the child’s fair hair. ‘The poor little mite must be so confused. I have told her that her mama is in heaven and she seemed to accept it. But in her own way, she knows something is wrong and is now missing her mama dreadfully.’