Chapter
11

Morning light roused Hannah from a heavy sleep. She blinked and sat up in bed, pushing her tousled hair over one shoulder. Why hadn’t she bothered to braid it last night? The sudden recollection of the reason sent a flood of heat to her cheeks. She covered her mouth as sensations flooded her, recalling how her tender, sweet husband had made her his wife in the most intimate way possible. Though she’d understood the mechanics behind it, she could never have dreamed the joy involved in sharing oneself so completely.

Movement at the side of the bed claimed her attention. Grinning at her, Nolan tugged a drape back from the window.

“Are you going to sleep all day, Mrs. Price?”

“What time is it?”

“The morning’s practically over, and I, for one, am starved.” He gestured to the small table beside the hearth. “I took the liberty of bringing up breakfast, since I thought you might not wish to eat in the dining room this morning.”

“How thoughtful. Thank you.” She fought the feelings of awkwardness that tried to take hold.

He brought her a tray with a plate of toast and marmalade and a cup of tea. While she balanced the offering on her knee, he sat down beside her and devoured a half slice of toast in one swallow.

“After we eat, I’ll ready the horses while you dress, and if you’re agreeable, we can set out toward Cobourg.”

Cobourg. The nearest sizable town to her stepfather’s farm. She took a hasty sip of tea to wet her dry throat.

“We’ll find an inn to stay in for the night and show up fresh tomorrow morning at the farm. That will give us enough time to get Molly’s things in order and return to Stainsby by nightfall.”

Dread curdled the tea in her stomach at the mere mention of the estate. The thought of returning to face the earl’s wrath was not something she looked forward to. “Could we not stay here for a few more days on our own?” She hated to sound like a whining child, but she finally had Nolan to herself and was loath to let their time end just yet.

“Does my bride wish more practice in being married?” The twinkle in his eyes combined with his low chuckle made her pulse quicken.

“Nolan!” She jerked, sloshing tea over the side of her cup.

He only laughed at her outrage. “I have no objection to spending the afternoon right here in this bed, if you’d like.”

She swatted him. “Behave yourself.”

“I’m teasing you, Hannah. Whatever you wish, we will do.”

He may have been teasing, but the love in his eyes told her he was serious. “Your plan sounds fine,” she said. “Though I hate to leave such a lovely place.”

“I’ve already asked at the desk and got the name of an equally fine establishment in Cobourg.” He popped another piece of toast in his mouth and washed it down with a slurp of tea.

He certainly seemed in good spirits today. She wondered how he managed to put thoughts of his irate father out of his mind so easily.

“Nolan?”

“Yes, my love?” He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger.

“Your father can’t . . . I mean . . . our marriage can’t be dissolved, can it?”

He lifted his palm to cup her cheek. “No, sweetheart. We are well and truly married now. And I intend for us to stay that way for a very long time.”

Then his lips claimed hers in a kiss that promised an eternity of love to come.

“Blast it all.” Edward slammed the ledger closed on top of his desk. The urgent business matter his solicitor had brought him yesterday would not be easily resolved. Edward had already spent far too long going over and over the figures. He simply could not force his mind to concentrate on the situation at hand when all he could think about was the fact that he now had a grown son.

One who had fled the manor before Edward could even begin training him.

Nolan had claimed he needed to travel to his mother’s hometown and inform her relatives of her passing, but it seemed more like an excuse to leave. Perhaps the boy simply needed time to gain perspective on this monumental change in his life.

Edward pushed his chair back from the large mahogany desk and moved to the window behind him. Once again, memories of the boy’s mother returned to taunt him.

Mary. His heart breathed her name and squeezed with sorrow. The woman he’d loved more than twenty years ago, who’d died bearing his child. His son. Had Mary really asked her sister to keep Nolan from him, or had Elizabeth simply made the decision on her own?

Edward was trying hard not to despise Elizabeth Price for her deception, but red-hot anger still consumed him every time he thought of her treachery. The rational side of his brain told him it was ridiculous to harbor such animosity toward a dead woman.

For Nolan’s sake, Edward would have to get past it.

He strode to the fireplace and stoked the embers until a small flame flared. For his own sake, he needed to bury his resentment and concentrate all his efforts on forging a relationship with his son. The future of the Fairchild family rested on Edward’s ability to turn a stable boy into a proper heir.

For certain, Nolan was a strong-willed lad. Edward hadn’t missed the air of defiance surrounding the boy whenever Edward issued orders. Yet Nolan obeyed without question, giving Edward no cause for reprimand. The only time the lad had dared defy him was when his mother had taken ill. It was then Edward became aware—in no uncertain terms—of Nolan’s disdain. Edward would have to tread carefully in his attempt to break his son of his servant’s upbringing and mold him into a nobleman.

The first course of business would be the hardest—severing all ties between his son and the kitchen maid who had him so bewitched. The irony of the similarity to his own history was not lost on Edward. But he would do everything in his power to ensure a happier outcome for his son’s future. It occurred to Edward that Nolan had not actually agreed to end his relationship with the girl, and so it fell to Edward to make sure his wishes were followed.

He set the poker back with a clang, his mind racing. What better time to speak with the maid than while his son was away? He was sure the girl could be made to see reason before his son would. Especially if her job was on the line.

Isn’t this exactly how your father treated Mary? Edward pushed away the guilt that threatened to surface. The two situations were not as similar as they seemed. After all, from what he’d observed, the young couple was merely flirtatious. Nowhere near as serious as he and Mary. He needed to take action now, while there was still time. Before, heaven forbid, the girl ended up with child.

He’d already dealt with Reverend Black and ensured his cooperation.

Now to make his position abundantly clear to the maid.

With a purposeful stride, Edward left the study and headed to the main hall where the butler always hovered.

The thin, balding man appeared from the shadows and offered a bow.

“Dobson, get the kitchen maid for me—the blond one—and send her to my study at once.” Without waiting for a reply, Edward stomped back to his office.

When footsteps sounded in the hall several minutes later, followed by a rap at the door, Edward looked up from the papers on his desk. “Come in.”

His plump cook wedged her way in the door and bobbed a curtsy.

“Mrs. Bridges? I sent for the kitchen maid. What is her name again?”

“Hannah Burnham, my lord.”

“Yes, well, where is she? I need to speak to her about an urgent matter.” He ignored the fact that it was highly unusual for the master of the house to speak to a mere maid.

“I’m sorry, sir. That’s what I came to tell you.” The woman clutched her apron as though agitated. “Miss Burnham had a few days’ leave coming. She’s away visiting her family.”

Edward jerked, jolting the pen in his hand. A slow rage spread through his torso, matching the splotch of ink that bled onto the page before him.

The chit of a girl was away at the same time as his son. This could not be a coincidence.

Edward focused to contain his emotions lest they intimidate the older woman. He inhaled and let the air out in an even release. “I see. And do you have any knowledge of where Miss Burnham’s family lives?”

“Oh, yes, sir. I know exactly where they live.” The woman’s air of anxiety dissipated and a wide smile creased her cheeks. “Ann Burnham and I grew up in the same neighborhood. She married a farmer and lives not far from there.”

The tension in his shoulders uncoiled a notch. “Excellent. Have a seat, Mrs. Bridges, and tell me everything you know.”

Nolan hummed under his breath as he guided the carriage off the main road onto the dirt lane leading into Cobourg’s outlying farm territory. The faint scent of manure, combined with fresh cut hay, floated on the breeze.

Nothing could dampen his good spirits today. He was legally, physically, and spiritually wed to the woman he loved. A woman who quickened his pulse with only a glance. He turned to find her watching him and winked, causing a blush to pink her cheeks. Was she thinking of their passionate interlude at the Swann Inn? Much to his delight, Hannah’s fear from their wedding night had vanished completely and last night, she seemed to enjoy their time together as much as he.

Heat crawled up his neck at the memory. He took out a handkerchief and mopped the beads of sweat from his brow.

As the road became less even, he slowed the horses’ gait. In the distance, two distinct farmhouses stood out. He nodded toward the horizon. “Is one of those farms your mother’s?”

Hannah’s slight form stiffened beside him. “No. It’s the next one, over that ridge.” Her mouth tightened, and little lines of worry creased her forehead.

If only her mother didn’t upset her so. Nolan gathered the reins in one hand and reached for her fingers with the other. When he saw the tears on her lashes, he realized the depth of her distress went far beyond what he’d imagined.

He slowed the horses to a halt at the side of the road. “Are you worried about telling your mother we’re married?”

“A little. She always makes me feel that I’m wrong. That I’m not good enough, not important enough.”

The sorrow in her voice tore at Nolan. He gathered her to him in a fierce grip. “Well, you are the most important person in the world to me. You are kind, loyal, and honest.” He kissed the top of her head, vowing never to let anyone hurt Hannah again now that he was her husband.

She turned her face to give him a watery smile. “I thank God every day for you, Nolan, because when I lost my family, God gave me you.” With a small sigh, she brushed her lips to his.

His heart swelled with love and the desire to protect her. Never again would Hannah feel abandoned or unloved. He would make sure of it.

Twenty minutes later, they crested a hill, and a colorful patchwork of farmland spread out before them. Hannah pointed to a barn in the distance. “That’s the one.”

He clucked to the horses, and they forged ahead. The closer they got to the farm, the more Nolan’s skin prickled. Would Hannah’s family be happy about their union or upset? Would they agree to let Molly come with them, or would Nolan have to use all his powers of persuasion to convince them?

Hannah, too, was tense and withdrawn as the carriage swung onto the Fielding property. A large cloud now obscured the sun that had beat down on them the whole morning, throwing shadows over the road ahead. A small wooden farmhouse appeared to their right, while the dirt lane veered to the left toward the barn. Nolan guided the horses there, hoping to get some hay and fresh water for the overheated steeds.

As they rounded the side of the barn, shock froze Nolan’s hands on the reins. His insides hardened to stone, squeezing the breath from his lungs.

Hannah gasped and clutched his arm.

In the shade of the Fielding barn sat the Earl of Stainsby’s personal carriage.