Chapter
20

Edward threw his hat and gloves onto a chair in the vestibule and yelled for his butler. “Dobson, where are you?”

When there was no immediate response, Edward growled. Dash it all, where was that man when you needed him?

Scurrying footsteps echoed in the hallway, and Dobson appeared. He bowed. “Here I am, my lord. What can I do for you?”

“Has my son returned yet?”

“As a matter of fact, he arrived not an hour ago.”

“At last. Tell him to meet me in my study as soon as possible.”

“But, sir—”

“Just do it.”

“Very good, sir.” Dobson bowed again and turned to climb the main staircase.

Edward blasted out a breath of frustration. Why did it seem as though the entire universe was conspiring against him? Nothing lately had gone according to plan.

But all that was about to change once he made it clear to Nolan how things stood.

Edward stalked down the corridor toward his study, the slap of his heels on the floor giving vent to his foul mood. As he strode past the parlor door, a shrill of female laughter met his ears.

Who in the blazes was that? Surely one of the maids wouldn’t dare make herself at home in his parlor.

Edward stormed into the room. Someone had had the audacity to pull back the heavy drapes and let sunlight infuse the room. The sorry person responsible would get a tongue-lashing when he found them.

Slight movement by the fireplace drew his eye to the right. Instead of the expected maid, a woman he’d never seen before rose from the chair. If he’d been of a calm demeanor, he might have been polite, but all he could focus on was the large canine at her feet.

“Who the devil are you, and what manner of beast is this in my parlor?” Edward barked out the words before he had time to think.

The woman arched a brow and stared at him. Then she took two steps across the carpet toward him, her feet not making a sound. The beast rose as well, emitting a low bark.

“Good day, Lord Stainsby. I am the Duchess of Hartford. And this is my companion, Daisy.” She inclined her head with a smile.

Egad, he’d just insulted a duchess. Through the fog in his brain, Edward fought for clarity. The Duchess of Hartford. Had he met her before? Surely he would have remembered someone so striking. How had he failed to notice her regal bearing, the sweep of her chestnut hair, the smoothness of her complexion? “Forgive my bellow, Your Grace. Edward Fairchild at your service.” He bowed over her hand, trying to ignore the animal at her side, likely shedding on his carpet as he spoke.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m in your parlor.” She laughed lightly.

“The thought had occurred to me—yes.”

“I am here to visit with my nieces, Hannah and Molly.”

He blinked, still not comprehending.

“I believe our families are connected in a somewhat loose fashion. Your son Nolan recently married my step-niece, Hannah Burnham.”

His mouth dropped open. The kitchen maid had ties to the nobility? Impossible. “I-I’m afraid I’m at a loss for words.” The ramifications of this latest news jumbled his brain.

Smiling, she moved forward and linked her arm through his. “Why don’t you join me for tea, and I’ll explain the whole story?”

He looked down into eyes the color of dove feathers, speckled with gold, and found himself being led to his own sofa while his guest poured the tea. A long-forgotten sensation moved in his chest as he accepted the offered cup, and his conversation with Nolan no longer seemed nearly as important.

In the second-floor corridor, Hannah waited as Nolan kicked open the door to his suite, his arms laden with her belongings. In three long strides, he crossed to the bedroom and dropped the load on the top of the great four-poster bed.

Hannah hung back, biting her bottom lip. Why did this feel like she was committing some type of sin? She’d lived in this mansion for eight years, yet she’d never once been on this floor.

Nolan poked his head outside the bedroom. “Why are you out there? Come inside.”

She hesitated. “Maybe I should check on Aunt Iris.”

“She’s fine. We left her with refreshments, and she knows where her room is in case she grows tired.”

“What if your father finds out?” She wrung her hands together, still standing in the hallway. Nothing was more fearsome to the Stainsby staff than the master’s roar.

Nolan marched through the opening. “He will find out, because I plan to tell him as soon as I see him. You are my wife, and it’s time we started acting like we’re married.”

Before she could discern his intention, he swung her up against his chest. His heart thudded under her hand, and the hard muscles there sent a thrill through her.

“I have been remiss in my responsibilities, it seems, Mrs. Price. Since this will be our quarters from now on, it is my duty to carry you inside.”

With a flourish, he leapt across the threshold and kicked the door closed behind him. He whirled her into his bedroom and dropped her on the bed, among her belongings. While she laughed and caught her breath, he swept her bags onto the floor, a wide smile creasing his face. She hadn’t seen him this lighthearted in weeks. Not since the few stolen days of their honeymoon.

“I think it’s high time we christen this bed, wife.” He grinned and pounced on her like a mischievous feline.

Her mouth dropped open. “It’s the middle of the afternoon. Let me up right this minute.”

Instead of obeying, he plied her neck with kisses. She writhed under him, trying to get away, until he raised himself on one elbow, and smiled down into her heated face.

“Nolan, stop. We can’t do this now.” Her voice was breathless. Why couldn’t she sound more forceful?

He twirled a strand of her hair around one finger, a rakish look on his face. “Why not? Despite what you may have overheard about annulment papers, I choose to believe we are married. And other than our brief honeymoon, we have not gotten to enjoy this aspect of our union.”

“But what will the staff think? What will my aunt think?”

“They’ll think we’re tired from the trip and that we’re taking a nap.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he took advantage of the opportunity, effectively halting any objection. His kisses were like a drug to her system, dulling her senses. How she’d missed him—the warmth of his arms, the taste of his lips. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back with an intensity that astounded her.

Just when she thought she would swoon from lack of air, a thread of reason swam through her dazed brain. “Wait.” She planted her palms on his chest, pushing him back.

“What is it?” His ragged breath stirred her hair.

How did she begin to voice the doubts and fears that had plagued her these past weeks? Fears that evaporated when he kissed her, but that reared their ugly heads again the moment she was alone. She pushed those thoughts aside and instead asked her most pressing concern. “What if your father has already annulled our marriage? Our love would be a sin.”

“Never.” The fierceness of his tone matched the fervor of the passion that blazed on his face. “Our love could never be a sin. We’ve made our vows before God. Filing a piece of paper doesn’t change that.” He brushed a tendril of hair from her cheek. “If we have to, we’ll restate our vows in front of a magistrate. Whatever it takes to bind us together for life.”

Oh, how she wished she could believe that the vehemence of his words would make everything turn out the way they wanted. “I’m so confused,” she whispered.

“Trust me and trust your feelings. Let everything else go. Our love is all that matters.”

His lips found hers once more, this time gentle and intoxicating. As he kissed her again and again, her concerns melted away, until a sharp rapping broke through the haze surrounding them.

“Wait here,” Nolan said with a frown. “I’ll get rid of whoever it is.” He rose, adjusted his clothing and strode to the door. “What is it?”

Mr. Dobson’s high voice rang out from the hall. “Lord Stainsby wishes to see you right away in his study, sir.”

Ten minutes later, Nolan paused outside the door to Edward’s study and attempted to tamp down his frustration at being summoned like a wayward schoolboy. He needed a moment to collect his thoughts before he confronted his father. If he didn’t, he might do something he’d regret—like flail the man. He deserved as much after his treachery.

On a deep inhale, he knocked. No answer. He knocked again. After several seconds, he turned the handle and let himself in. Other than the remains of a fire in the grate, the room showed no sign of life.

Of all the nerve. Edward had interrupted his reunion with Hannah, and then hadn’t bothered to be here when Nolan answered his order.

He returned to the corridor, about to head back upstairs to Hannah, when a female laugh caught his attention. But it was the distinctive male rumble that followed that brought Nolan up short. He’d wanted to be the one to introduce his father to Lady Hartford, but apparently Edward had bumped into her on his own.

Nolan gave a deep sigh and turned toward the parlor. Time with his wife would have to wait.

Edward’s voice drifted from the open door. “Enough talk about Stainsby Hall. You must tell me how such a young woman as yourself became a duchess.” His father sounded almost . . . flirtatious.

Nolan clenched his fists at his side and pushed into the room. “I would love to hear this story as well,” he said with forced cheerfulness.

Edward practically jumped off the sofa where he’d been seated beside Lady Hartford. The look of guilt on his face gave Nolan a brief moment of satisfaction, but he kept his features schooled.

“What are you doing sneaking about like that?” Edward scowled at him.

“I was looking for you since you summoned me to your study. Remember?”

A tint of red slashed the earl’s cheekbones. “That was before I realized we had a guest. How could you be so remiss as to leave the duchess alone like that?”

The lady in question rose and placed a hand on Edward’s sleeve. “You mustn’t berate the boy. I insisted he take Hannah upstairs to rest after the journey.”

Nolan cringed at his father’s glare. He’d wanted to be the one to inform his father that Hannah and he would now be living together in his suite.

Lady Hartford gestured toward the table in front of the sofa. “Nolan made sure Daisy and I were comfortable and had refreshments.”

Edward inclined his head. “Well, that is something at least.”

“Please join us, Nolan. I do so want to get to know you both better now that we’re all related through marriage.”

Edward’s features returned to their usual polite mask—the one Nolan had come to know so well after weeks of instruction on how to achieve the same look. Edward gave the duchess a stiff bow. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I need to speak to my son. A conversation long overdue.”

“I agree.” Nolan met his stare, granite on granite. “Excuse us, please. We’ll have to get to better acquainted another time.”

She nodded. “Of course. I look forward to it.”

Nolan strode out the door and across the corridor to reenter his father’s study.

The earl followed right on his heels. Edward slammed the door closed, marched to his desk, and slapped his palms down on the hard, polished wood. “In future, you will show me more respect, especially in front of such distinguished company. Not only am I your father, I am the Earl of Stainsby.”

Too angry to sit, Nolan paced the rug in front of the fire. “I am quite aware of who you are. And, frankly, neither title impresses me.”

They locked eyes. A toxic mix of emotions swirled in the air between them.

Edward broke the silence. “Do you know how humiliating it was to hear from a servant that my son had gone on a wild goose chase after a kitchen maid? From now on, you will do me the courtesy of informing me of your travel plans.”

Nolan strode forward to face the earl on the opposite side of the desk, keeping the solid barrier between them so he wouldn’t be tempted to physically lash out at his own father. “I think it’s time we get a few things straight. Hannah is now, and always will be, my wife. I have met the conditions of our agreement, which is now fulfilled. I will not be the bait on your fish hook to lure some wealthy debutante for whatever despicable purposes you have in mind.”

Blotches of red mottled the earl’s chiseled features.

Nolan lowered his voice to a deadly whisper. “Now I demand the truth from you. Those papers I signed the day of the ball—what exactly were they?”

Edward’s gaze slid to the left. “You know very well what they were.”

“I thought I did.” He leaned farther over the desk, his breathing uneven. “But that night, Hannah overheard you telling someone that I had signed annulment papers. That’s why she ran off.” The horror of what Hannah must have felt at the time hit Nolan anew. “Is this true? Was there some clause buried in that paperwork?”

Edward raised his head, his eyes two blue slits in his face. “Yes,” he spat out. “The document contained an annulment clause.”

The truth slammed into Nolan like a fist to the gut. His own father had tricked him. Pretended to want a relationship with him, then lied and manipulated him without an ounce of remorse.

Nolan clenched his molars together to keep from yelling the obscenities that hovered on his tongue and swallowed hard to dislodge the ball of disgust from his throat. “You, sir, are an unfeeling, dishonorable shell of a man.” He barked out a harsh laugh. “To think I pined for a father all my life. Now I thank God my mother saw fit to keep me from you. I’d rather have been raised without a father than turn out like you.” He leveled a vicious glare at the man. “You will have this annulment rescinded immediately. If I do not see proof in the very near future, Hannah and I will leave Stainsby—and we won’t be back.”

Edward jerked upright. “You’re asking the impossible. I doubt Mr. Grayson will be able—”

“I’m sure with your talents you’ll find a way to make it happen.”

Nolan held his gaze a moment longer, gaining immense satisfaction from the stunned look on the earl’s face, then turned and strode from the room.