Return of the Long Lost Earl: Historical Regency Romance Mystery Read online

  “My father and Gordon are in the drawing room,” Geraldine sat down as she began to explain. “I could hear them from outside and…”

  “And that is why you chose to come here,” Lady Kingsmead finished her sentence.

  “Yes.” Geraldine was blushing again; she had never spoken of any discontent with Lady Kingsmead before, especially not concerning her own family.

  “You must consider me a friend, Geraldine,” Lady Kingsmead rose and went to the fireplace to pull the bell rope. Although she did not say as much, Geraldine assumed that the two of them were to have a little tea of their own right there in the morning room. “I know I shall be in the Dower House, but you may come to me whenever you like.”

  Geraldine knew that Lady Kingsmead was talking of the future, a time when Geraldine was finally married to Gordon. The kindness made her feel warm and pleased; the reminder that she would then be married to Gordon Danvers, however, gave her a dreadful sense of hopeless inevitability.

  “You are so kind, Lady Kingsmead.”

  “When we are alone, I think I should like you to call me Edith. Would that bother you at all?”

  “No, Lady… Edith.” Geraldine smiled.

  Lady Kingsmead was still a fine-looking woman, despite her advancing years. Her hair, which had always been dark, had many strands of silver running through it. It made her hair look the colour of steel although it was soft, thick, and wavy. She had a quiet, dignified manner and an upright bearing. In short, Edith Lyndon was everything a Countess ought to be and Geraldine admired her greatly.

  “I wish there was some way I could advise you, my dear, but I fear there is little I can do but offer my friendship and a listening ear.” She sounded apologetic and something about her tone was so caring that Geraldine felt emotional.

  It was clear she was talking about Geraldine’s plight, even though she did not put it into words; she did not need to.

  “They are in the drawing room now discussing the announcement tomorrow. Neither one of them has seen fit to mention it to me, although I suppose it ought not to be a surprise. The only indication I have had is a short and rather sharp instruction from my brother to behave myself on the day.”

  “I really am so terribly sorry. I am sure it is no true consolation, but I suffered similarly at the hands of the men in my life. My father was adamant I marry Garrett Lyndon, even though we were not at all suited. I shall tell you, my dear, that I was in love with somebody else entirely, and to marry Garrett Lyndon broke my heart.”

  “I am sorry to hear that, Edith,” Geraldine said truthfully. “We are never considered, are we? But at least I do not love another. I am spared that heartbreak and should be grateful for it.”

  “However hard as it is to love, even when that love cannot be followed, is a wonderful thing.” Lady Kingsmead’s eyes were narrowed, and she looked a little vague, as if peering down the years into the face of the man she had truly loved.

  In that moment, Geraldine wished she knew the identity of the man. Their families were so close, perhaps Lady Kingsmead’s love was, or had been, someone of their acquaintance.

  “I am so grateful for your kindness to me, especially when I shall be…” Once again, Geraldine could not finish.

  “You must not think of yourself as pushing me out. I was never particularly interested in the title or the continuance of the family name of Lyndon, and when Hunter died, I was even less so.” She paused for a moment, a flash of pain clouding her pale blue eyes. “I would have been overjoyed to see my son as the Earl, but only because it would have meant that he was still here, still alive. Beyond that, I have no egoic attachment to this place. In fact, I am happy in the Dower House, happier than I have been for many years.”

  “The Dower House has a very serene atmosphere.” Geraldine spoke gently, careful not to break the spell of such an open conversation.

  “You must think me quite dreadful,” Lady Kingsmead continued, her hand running over the austere black fabric of her gown. “Sitting here in my widow’s weeds and seemingly content at the passing of my husband of so many years.”

  “I do not think you dreadful at all. We feel as we feel, there is no advantage to pretending otherwise, not when there is no need. I understand, Lady Kingsmead. Edith.” Their new-found closeness was going to take a little getting used to; but only a little.

  “What a lovely young woman you are. Yes, we shall be great friends, the two of us.” She smiled and looked to the door as a maid silently entered with a tea tray.

  Chapter Three

  “Would you like some greens, Captain Winters?” The maid at the Kingsmead Inn said with a smile. “The landlord grows them himself and they are the tastiest in the county.”

  “Then I shall have a hearty helping, thank you,” Ashley Winters smiled up at the round-faced young woman. “If it is as fine as the ale, I shall be in luck.”

  He had taken the rooms at the Kingsmead Inn some days before and was pleasantly surprised to find everything exactly as he had expected it to be. It was a very middling establishment in terms of accommodation, but he had been at sea for so many years that everywhere with a bed and a sense of firm ground felt like a luxury. And as for the fine greens, fresh meat, and solid potatoes, manna from Heaven could surely be the only thing which tasted better.

  “Will that be all, Sir?” The maid said when she had finished serving up his meal.

  “Yes, thank you,” He began then, as she made to leave, he cleared his throat and she turned. “Actually, perhaps there is something you might help me with,” he began, stifling a laugh when he saw a fleeting look of panic cross her pretty, round face; perhaps she thought all sailors were the same. “There is a garden party to be held tomorrow at Kingsmead Hall, I believe.”

  “Oh yes, it promises to be a very fine event, so they say. The new Earl is inviting the county onto the grounds for the first time since the last Earl passed.” She spoke with reverence at the mention of the last Earl; it made Ashley shudder imperceptibly.

  “I suppose the Myers family will be in attendance. If I remember, the families are closely acquainted.” He hoped his enquiries would sound like simple curiosity.

  “I daresay Lord Myers will be there. Forgive me, but there is some gossip that suggests there might be an announcement made tomorrow,” she said shyly, although it was clear the young woman enjoyed a little gossip herself.

  “An engagement?” He said, wracking his brains for names. “The Baron’s daughter?”

  “Yes, Miss Geraldine Myers is believed to be getting ready to marry Gordon Danvers, or the Earl of Kingsmead as I should say now. But you mustn’t say anything, Sir, it has only come to me as idle gossip, I didn’t really ought to be passing it on.”

  “Fear not, your secret is safe with me.” He smiled conspiratorially and lightly tapped the side of his nose, making the young woman giggle. “So, the Danvers and the Myers are both to find themselves at Kingsmead, then. Both inheriting the old place, so to speak.” The statement was more for himself, something he hadn’t entirely meant to say aloud.

  “I suppose you could put it like that, Captain Winters.” She said. “What with Gordon Danvers being the new Earl and all.”

  “And he is settling into his role?”

  “As far as I hear it, Sir,” She was steadily forgetting her shyness in the gossiping arena. “My cousin works there, you see. He’s a second footman already and he’s only just one-and-twenty.” She smiled proudly and Ashley nodded to indicate how impressed he was by her connections. “And he reckons the new Earl is a lot easier to work for than the last.” And there it was again, that atmosphere of respect; how did such men as the previous Earl of Kingsmead manage to command such deference whilst all who knew of them claimed them to be difficult?

  “A relief to the household staff, I shouldn’t wonder.” He grinned.

  “My cousin says these last three months have been very different for them, although I know he would be grateful for his position regardless.”
br />   “Quite so.”

  “Do you know the family then, Sir?”

  “A little, although I have not seen them for many, many years.”

  “Are you to attend the party?” she said, a glint of excitement in her eyes.

  “I have no invite, I’m afraid,” he said a little evasively.

  “That’s a shame. But perhaps, if you are in town a little longer, you might call upon them. I’m sure they would be pleased to see you.”

  “Tell me, have you any news of Lady Kingsmead? She will be in mourning, of course,” he said gently.

  “My cousin tells me that the Countess has already moved into the Dower House, Sir.”

  “Really? Gordon Danvers has not yet married Miss Myers though, has he?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “So, he has pushed the Countess out of her home already.” Again, he spoke out loud but to himself.

  “I understand it was Lady Kingsmead’s want, but I probably ought not to say such things. It’s not my place to make comments on their domestic arrangements, you must forgive me. My father always says I never know when to be quiet.” She shrugged disarmingly and Ashley laughed.

  “Not at all. It is nice for me to hear details of the families after so many years. Perhaps I shall not mention our conversation to your father,” he said and tapped the side of his nose again.

  “Bless me, you are funny, Sir. Now, I ought to get back before the landlord’s wife comes looking for me.”

  “Quite so. Well, thank you for this wonderful meal and for passing the time of day. You are most kind.” He smiled with genuine gratitude before she finally made her way out of his rooms.

  So, things moved very quickly for Gordon Danvers. A new title in the bag, a new wife on the horizon, and already he had successfully swept the last Earl’s wife out of the way. What a thoroughly efficient young man he must be.

  Ashley cut into what was now a stone-cold meal. Nonetheless, the potatoes were so fresh he closed his eyes to enjoy the flavour. He paused and smiled; what was that? Mint? Never once, in all his years aboard ship, had the potatoes he had been served been so carefully prepared.

  As a Royal Navy Captain, he had, of course, enjoyed more than one fine meal when he had been ashore, most particularly in the homes of some of the most respected men in the Admiralty. But there had always been something holding him down a little; something which would not allow him to enjoy the finer things in life when they had come his way.

  Ashley was certain it was years of waiting to be discovered; a tap on the shoulder which would put an end to the life he had grown accustomed to. But now, instead of keeping himself in the shadows, a competent and well-respected, if purposefully unremarkable, Captain in the Royal Navy, he was stepping out into the light at last. He knew it was the very thing which could see the years roll back horribly to the darkest of days, but it was a chance he knew he must take.

  When he had arrived back in England three months before, his ship ready for decommissioning after many years of service and far too many near-misses in terms of safety, he had no idea his first taste of the English newspapers would bring such turmoil. And what a thing to arrive back in the country of his birth to read of the death of the Earl of Kingsmead not days before. It had seemed like fate.

  If ever there was a time to strike, it was now. And, if anything was to bring about his own downfall with ease, it was most certainly this strike, if he chose to make it.

  He continued to eat, although now the tastes were less distinct, less inspiring. He could not help but think of the two years he had spent in the worst of circumstances.

  It felt as if it was only yesterday that he had eaten only to survive, no pleasure attached to the activity at all. The watery porridge oats served in rough wooden bowls without any utensils at all. How he, like a savage driven by his own hunger, had lifted the wooden bowl to his face and lapped at its contents like a dog.

  Could he really risk going back there?

  When his meal was complete, he rose from the table and made his way into his chamber. When the maid returned to collect the dishes, he wanted to be out of the way. No doubt she would assume him to be resting and remove the debris of the meal quickly and quietly.

  Not that she hadn’t been a most pleasant and informative woman, for she had, but now he knew he would seem very different to her. No longer would he appear friendly and a little too familiar and irreverent, but rather he would seem distracted and solemn.

  Ashley knew himself better than most men knew themselves, for he had spent many a long hour in determined introspection. How had he ended up in such a life? Always, he had searched for the one thing he had done which had kept him in that dark place without, he had thought then, any hope of escape. But that was a part of the unknown; something he would have no hope of understanding unless he went through with his plan.

  He opened the door of the old oak wardrobe. It was a battered but well-made piece of furniture, something which looked as if it had been cast out of a much grander establishment when its wealthier occupants had no further need of it.

  His smartest dress uniform hung there; his blue Naval officer’s tailcoat, his dark cream breeches, the golden epaulettes. The white shirt with its pristine collar and cuffs was pressed without a wrinkle, thanks to the same maid who had fetched his dinner, and his navy-blue cravat was draped neatly over its shoulder.

  With a sigh, he closed the wardrobe door and stretched out on the narrow bed. It was barely tall enough to accommodate him, and his feet, still in their boots, rested heavily against the wrought iron bedstead. He laced his fingers behind his head as he leaned back into the hard, feather-stuffed pillows. He was going to do it; he had to.

  If he did not, would he not always be looking over his shoulder? Would he not always be waiting for the tap which would strip him of the life he now had? Perhaps this other life, the life he would fight for now, would put an end to that niggling sense of doubt which had been his constant companion, however quiet, across many a rough sea and onto the shores of many a far-flung land.

  Yes, he would fight for it. He would!

  What did he care for those involved? For what did they care for him? He did not know the details of how they had all twisted and turned themselves into wealth and power, but he knew they had done so all the same. Their machinations might be a mystery to him now, but he was determined they would not be forever. For how else was he to have his victory over them if he did not come to know them better? Not the side of themselves which faced the world, but the side of themselves they had thought hidden. Surely in secrets was where the true gems would lay? The real information of a type which could only help him in his quest for peace at last.

  When he heard the tap at the outer door, Ashley remained silent. He lay on his bed, hardly breathing lest the maid realise he was awake. He knew it was foolish, but the old cloud had descended, and he wanted to avoid further conversation at all costs.

  Ashley knew exactly what had changed him. He knew exactly how it was he had come to be a man of complex character; of sudden changes in mood and feeling. He just didn’t know how he could ever change that.

  Above all things, his plan might well be his last hope for a life free of such feelings. Perhaps nothing but his own perseverance in securing a new way of life would be the thing which finally set his troubled soul free.

  Chapter Four

  “A fine turnout for the event.” Elspeth Myers, Geraldine’s mother, sounded self-satisfied.

  So self-satisfied, in fact, that one might be forgiven for thinking that it was her own engagement to be announced, rather than that of her daughter.

  “I suppose an Earl is always assured a good attendance. Everybody clamours around a title after all, do they not?” Geraldine said sullenly. “Sometimes even those with a title of their own,” she added rather more pointedly.

  “Geraldine, I do wish you would try to be a little more pleasant. You should be thrilled. Any other young lady of sense and breeding would
be.”

  “Would they?” Geraldine turned to stare at her mother, whilst Elspeth looked around at the guests and determinedly ignored her. “What about the ones with intelligence? I wonder how thrilled they would be at the idea of spending the rest of their lives with the most dull-witted man in all of Hertfordshire.”

  “If this continues, I will speak to your father. Believe me, you will be sorry then.” Finally, Elspeth turned to glare at her.

  She was a handsome woman when dressed and adorned but, for anybody encountering her first thing in the morning before a great deal of effort had been applied, she was an absolute fright. Perhaps that was why she had lost herself in vanity; in gowns and lace and jewels, in face powder and hair powder, in wigs, in parasols. And, worst of all, in simpering manners designed always to make the men around her feel superior. Perhaps a little true beauty might have given her the confidence to let go of her own fears. Whatever it was, Geraldine hardly cared anymore. Why should she waste countless hours of her life wondering what had made her mother so self-centered and uncaring?

  “How can he make me sorrier than I already am? What will he do? Force me to marry a man against my wishes? But he is already doing that, Mother.” Geraldine felt nervous and sick about what was to come, and she knew she was lashing out at her mother.

  “Geraldine, this is a very important day for your father, and I must beg you do nothing to spoil it.”

  “Important for Father? Why? Is he to marry Gordon Danvers?” Geraldine had raised her voice a little, drawing the attention of Lady Kingsmead.

  “Stop this,” her mother hissed before walking away from her.

  Geraldine stood alone in the garden party which ought to have been a celebration of her engagement. She looked from person to person, irrationally despising each and every one of them. She knew, of course, that none of them were to blame for her current circumstances. Most would have no idea of her feelings, and the rest would see nothing unusual in having a daughter be married against her will. What a hateful place! What a hateful class!