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‘I told you you shouldn’t have eaten the airline breakfast,’ Charlie had told her as she’d looked at her loaded plate in dismay, but in the end it hadn’t made any difference at all. She had been making up for lost time. Now Mary had whisked herself off to supervise unpacking and they were left alone.
It felt weird. It was eleven in the morning and she was sitting in a bathrobe over breakfast with the Earl of Dalston.
With Charlie.
‘You’ve already figured it,’ Charlie told her. ‘My uncle died without issue.’
‘Issue?’
‘Kids.’ He gnnned. ‘Toe-rags. Noisy little blighters who spend all your money. My uncle could never abide them. Or women either. He romanticized marriage—he thought every man should have a wife—but he was too lousy to get one for himself. Even sharing the toothpaste would have made him wince.’
‘He and your father were brothers?’
‘Yep. They were as unalike as two men could be, but brothers for all that.’ Charlie poured himself another coffee and leaned back. ‘As soon as he came of age, Dad took his share of the family fortune and set himself up on a farm in Australia. He married my mom—an American girl—and my uncle decided then that we were completely beyond the pale. Dad died two years ago, without ever having come back to the old country.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be.’ Charlie smiled. ‘My father had a better life than my uncle ever had. He and my mom were very much in love. He died just a few months after she did, and neither of them regretted a thing about their lives. Except maybe not having more children.’
‘There’s only you?’
‘Yep.’
Tess nodded, thinking it through. ‘But... if your father hasn’t been back...how come you’ve been here?’
‘I was heir to the earldom,’ Charlie said simply. ‘My father always knew my uncle wouldn’t marry and my mom and dad taught me what to expect early. They sent me over to stay with my grandparents.’
‘Your grandparents?’
‘My grandfather was the eleventh earl,’ Charlie told her. ‘He died eight years ago. He and I were best of friends. It was only my uncle who couldn’t bear the thought that I’d inherit.’
‘Why?’
‘I broke a Dresden vase when I was nine years old.’ Charlie’s lazy grin flashed out again—magnetic and intense. ‘The dogs and I were chasing my uncle’s cat at the time. A fatter, lazier cat you’ve never seen and I let my grandfather’s hounds into the house, just to stir her. I don’t think my uncle ever forgave me. He thought I was a wastrel and a scoundrel. And totally useless at taking on responsibilities.’
‘And a wife is supposed to cure all that?’
Charlie’s eyes widened. ‘Of course,’ he said blandly. ‘How can it not? If you take me on, how can I help but turn into the epitome of steadiness and sober duty?’
‘It doesn’t sound much fun,’ Tessa said doubtfully, considering. ‘Steadiness and sober duty.’
‘With you it would be.’
‘Charlie...’ Tessa’s colour mounted again. ‘Don’t!’
‘Because of Donald?’
‘Yes, because of Donald,’ she snapped. ‘And a thousand other reasons. The idea is totally crazy.’ She pushed back her cup. ‘Now...I need to find my clothes.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I have an appointment this afternoon somewhere in Kensmgton. I don’t know where that is and I need to find it.’
‘It’s ten minutes’ walk from here.’
‘Really?’
‘Well, it depends whereabouts in Kensington, but fifteen minutes at the outside.’ Charhe’s eyes didn’t leave hers. ‘I can take you there if you need me.’
‘I don’t. Thank you.’ Good grief, she had to start being independent soon.
‘And you’re not going to tell me what the appointment is?’
‘There’s no need.’
‘No need to tell me?’
He was watching her with that calm kindness of his—the kindness that could be her undoing. The kindness that made her want to place all her cares on his broad shoulders. Which was ridiculous. She was an independent woman. Tessa’s mother had been ill for years and Tess had taken over family responsibilities early. She was a trained nurse in charge of a small hospital. She was competent to fight her own battles.
But, independent or not, maybe Charles Cameron deserved to be told why she was floundering here. After all, he was giving her free accommodation. Even Donald would tell her to be grateful.
So she told him.
‘I have an appointment with my sister’s lawyer,’ she said slowly, the pain in her voice impossible to conceal. ‘My sister and her husband died last week in a car crash just north of London. My sister’s husband is English and they lived here. The funeral was five days ago. I’ve just come over to...’ Her voice faltered to a halt.
‘To say goodbye?’ Charlie said softly and Tessa’s eyes flew to his face.
‘I suppose you think that’s stupid.’
‘I don’t think anything of the kind.’ Charlie’s large hand came over the table and gripped hers. And held. ‘When my grandfather died I was in America with my mom’s people and didn’t hear of his death for two weeks. My uncle saw no need to contact me. But when I heard...I had to come. Just to stand by his grave and say what I had to say.’
Tess blinked. And blinked again.
‘I’m not going to cry,’ she said.
‘No. Of course you’re not.’ Charlie cupped her chin in his fingers and tilted her face so she was looking at him. ‘You’re the bravest...’
‘I am not!’ Tess shoved her chair back and rose. ‘And if you keep this up, I will cry again and it serves you right if I do.’
‘I agree.’
‘I don’t want you to agree,’ she said crossly. ‘I want you to tell me I’m stupid like everyone else does.’
‘Like Donald? Does Donald tell you you’re stupid?’
She retreated and glowered and Charlie laughed and held up his hands in surrender.
‘Okay. Okay. I won’t sympathize any more and I won’t cast any nasturtiums at Dreadful Donald. Tell me why we’re going to see your sister’s lawyer.’
‘Not we.’
‘We,’ he said firmly. ‘Now I know for certain that you’re a damsel in distress, my hero instinct won’t be ignored. I refuse to let you battle lawyers on your own.’
‘I’m not battling...’
‘You always battle lawyers,’ Charlie said in a voice of sage experience. ‘Look at me. I’m marrymg to escape ’em.’
‘Charlie...’
‘Tell me.’
Tess took a deep breath and counted to ten, fighting for control. Fighting to ignore Charlie’s preposterous suggestion that she marry him.
‘I just need.. I need to find out where I stand with Ben,’ she said.
‘Ben? Another man?’ He was gently teasing, but Charlie’s eyes weren’t teasing. They were probing and intelligent and...
And knowing, Tess thought. As if he could see the trouble written across her heart.
‘Ben’s my nephew,’ she said stiffly. There was no laughter where Ben was concerned. ‘He’s three’
‘Christine’s child?’
‘Christine’s child.’
‘Oh, no.’ The trouble in Tessa’s face was mirrored in Charlie’s eyes. ‘He wasn’t hurt?’
‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘He’s safe.’
‘And he’s with?’
‘His grandmother. Christine’s mother-in-law.’
‘I see.’ Charlie leaned back in his chair. ‘And you’re going to see the lawyers because—’
‘Because I need to know whether I can get access if Mrs Blainey refuses to let me see him,’ Tess said slowly, thinking it through as she spoke. ‘Mrs Blainey—my sister’s mother-in-law and Ben’s grandmother—didn’t want me to come. She says it’ll upset Ben. You see, Chnstine and I are twins. I look like...’
She faltered to a halt.
‘You look like Christine,’ Charlie finished for her. ‘But you’ve come anyway and you still want to see Ben. I can understand that.’
‘I can’t get any answers from the laywer over the phone,’ Tess said. ‘I’ve only been able to make an appointment with the junior partner in the firm—not with the lawyer who acts for Christine. He also acts for Mrs Blainey, you see. But if I see him...he’ll have to say whether I have a legal right to see Ben. ’
‘If he can’t then I have an excellent lawyer who can find out for us,’ Charlie said. ‘I’ll even put aside my aversion to lawyers in the cause.’ He rose and crossed to her, and before she could stop him he took both her hands and squeezed them together in his. ‘We’ll resort to his advice together. But before we revert to such drastic measures as bringing in more legal eagles, let’s see what we can do ourselves, Tess Flanagan. Together.’
Tess had been dreading her time with Christine’s lawyer. The junior who’d spoken to her on the telephone had been supercilious and condescending.
‘I’m sure Master Ben’s well taken care of, Miss Flanagan. Mr Walter Scott’s taking care of all the legal affairs of the estate. if you need any information, please write to this address.’
Mr Edward Scott, junior partner, had agreed to her request for an appointment with reluctance, and Tess had allowed herself two days in London in case of problems. She expected problems.
She hadn’t counted on Charlie.
Charlie at her side, dressed to face city lawyers, was a presence indeed.
Tess wore a simple linen suit, soft blue and pressed into looking its best by Mary’s careful ministration. Tess looked neat and presentable but not an imposing presence at all. Charlie made up for it.
Charles Cameron had stood out among the suits in business class in the aeroplane, and Tess had thought it was because he was wearing casual clothes. It was no such thing. In a dark, impeccably cut business suit, Charlie would turn Just as many heads as he had in his moleskins. After a couple of hours on her wonderful bed, Tess emerged from her blue bedroom to find him waiting for her, and the sight of him just took her breath away.
The bruise on his eye had darkened but it took nothing from his appearance. Rather, it heightened the impression of strength, as if he’d just come from battle—victonous.
‘You...you don’t have to do this,’ she managed, trying not to stare. ‘I can go by myself.’
‘I’ve put on a tie especially,’ he said reproachfully. ‘Don’t quibble.’
That was the only protest she was allowed to make. Tess subsided and didn’t quibble at all.
Scott, Scott and McPherson was a firm of lawyers of long standing. Henry drove Charles and Tess to a building steeped in history, and the worn brass plate outside said that whatever historic events had taken place here, Scott, Scott and McPherson had been around long enough to see them.
Tess took a deep breath, looking at the ancient stone lions guarding the portals. If this place had been purpose built to intimidate, it could scarcely have been more successful.
‘Gird your loins here, lass,’ Charlie said beside her.
‘Together we can conquer anything—even lawyers.’
‘What exactly does gird your loins mean?’ Tess asked carefully, and Charlie chuckled.
‘Whatever it is, I just bet you can’t do it in pantyhose. Just don’t let anyone push you around. I’m with you all the way.’ He thrust the double doors wide and ushered her inside.
Tessa’s reception was just as she had suspected it might be. Mr Edward Scott, junior partner, kept Tess and Charles waiting for twenty minutes in an outer waiting room that was as uncomfortable as it was austere. Finally he condescended to show them into his inner sanctum. His welcome was wintry. He sat them on two uncomfortable chairs and asked how he could help them in the tone of one who didn’t expect to help them one bit.
Tess introduced Charles simply as Charles Cameron—for heaven’s sake, what else was she to call him? The lawyer gave Charlie a long, assessing look, but Charles was keeping a low profile. He listened patiently while Tessa was effectively brushed aside as having nothing to do with her sister’s affairs.
‘As I told you on the telephone,’ Mr Scott junior explained yet again, ‘the estate is being looked after by Mr Scott senior and he’s in the north at the moment.’
‘But I’d like to see my nephew, and maybe have access to some of my sister’s things,’ Tess said meekly. ‘There are family things... Christine and I were twins and...’
‘All that will be sorted out when the estate is finalized. And as for having access, I believe Mrs Blainey has objected. She feels the family resemblance will unsettle the child.’
‘You don’t believe it might be good for Ben to know he has an aunt who loves him?’ Charlie asked diffidently, and the lawyer flashed him a look of disdain.
‘Mrs Blainey thinks not,’ he said flatly. It was said as a statement not to be argued with.
‘Well, I need to see Mrs Blainey face to face,’ Tess managed. ‘Christine gave me her telephone number some time ago, but I don’t have her address. Could you at least give me that?’
‘Mrs Blainey will give it to you if she sees fit. Telephone her and ask her.’
‘I have.’ Tess swallowed. ‘She won’t.’
‘Then there’s nothing more to be said.’ The lawyer rose. The interview, it seemed, was over. ‘I’m sorry, miss, if you’ve wasted your time coming to England, but I did warn you.’
‘Just a moment.’ Charlie hadn’t moved. Now he brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his immaculate trousers and searched for more. ‘We wish to see a copy of Mrs Blainey’s will,’ he said softly. ‘Now.’
