Chapter 26
The informal hearing to determine the girls’ guardianship took place at Westminster Hall, where the Court of the Chancery held its sessions. Accompanied by Gilpin, his half brother–solicitor, Sunny hurried along the long hall, passing the old stone walls under the soaring Gothic arches. Fortunately, since this was an informal hearing, the meeting would take place in a private chamber.
Given the high status of the parties involved—a duke, an earl, and a viscount—the Lord Chancellor himself presided over the matter. He took a seat at the head of the table, with Sunny and Gilpin to his left, sitting opposite Winchester and Denbury.
Alert, his muscles tensed, Sunny studied his opponents. While the earl and viscount shared a rigid moral code, they could not be more different in appearance. The narrow-faced Winchester was exceedingly tall, taller even than Sunny, while his portly friend Denbury—Lady Abigail’s father—was short and rotund, with a ruddy, moon-shaped face.
“Your Grace, my lords,” the Lord Chancellor began, “as you know, I shall depend upon common sense and what is in the best interests of the minor children when rendering my opinion in this matter.”
“Naturally.” Winchester spoke with an air of condescension. “We, all of us, only desire that which is best for the children.”
The viscount tipped his head in Sunny’s direction. “On that I am certain we all agree.”
Sunny stared at both men, stone-faced, while the Lord Chancellor continued. “Issues of guardianship are normally left to the family. However, the children’s father is deceased, as is his chosen guardian. Since an objection has been lodged regarding His Grace’s suitability to act as guardian to young innocents, it is for the Court of the Chancery to render a judgment in this case, which will hopefully be agreeable to all concerned.”
Sunny could stay silent no longer. “I should like to know what business either of these men has interfering with my family. After all, it is my blood that runs through these children’s veins.”
Gilpin touched a reassuring hand to the duke’s sleeve before addressing the gentlemen sitting across the table. “With respect, my lords, the father’s family has priority of guardianship in cases such as these.”
“Naturally.” Malice flickered in Winchester’s pale eyes. “Unless circumstances show the children are at risk of being corrupted.”
Sunny’s lip curled. “You may go to perdition. The children are safe and happy in my care. They want for nothing.”
“Gentlemen,” the Lord Chancellor interjected, “let us remain civilized, shall we?” They were interrupted by the arrival of a clerk who entered and handed the man a letter before quietly exiting the room.
While the Lord Chancellor examined the missive, Denbury glared at Sunny. “Why doesn’t Sunderford tell us about the naked strumpets he parades through the house while the children are present?”
Gilpin spoke. “The children were never present at any of those revels, which are now in the duke’s past. He no longer hosts such entertainments.”
“Balderdash!” A skeptical half-laugh erupted out of Denbury. “We are all aware of Sinful Sunny’s exploits. It is well known that the duke thinks nothing of dallying with two women at once. His governess writes of witnessing naked strumpets performing perverted acts upon one another. It is common knowledge in Mayfair that people attend these routs in various states of undress and perform indecent acts upon each other in full view of other guests.”
“It sounds like you’ve memorized the letter,” Sunny said. “How many times have you read it?”
Denbury flushed. “Several times in order to be fully apprised of the sordid details.”
“It sounds to me as if you wish one of those naked strumpets could suck you off.” Beside Sunny, Gilpin sighed and shook his head.
“You are abominable!” the viscount said.
“I agree.” Winchester surged forward in his chair. “Simply outrageous.”
The Lord Chancellor looked up from the letter he’d been reading. “As fascinating as this conversation is, it seems there has been a new development in this matter.”
“What is it?” Sunny asked.
“The girls’ mother is here and wishes to speak.”
“Ballocks!” Sunny exclaimed. “The girls’ mother wants nothing to do with them. She was a tavern wench who happily took her widow’s portion and vanished to enjoy her life.”
Denbury shook his head. “No, she didn’t. Who told you that?”
Winchester smiled at Sunny with great satisfaction. “It is my understanding the mother wishes to reclaim her children.”
“Bugger that!” Sunny’s fist came down hard on the table, his face and neck burning. He’d die before allowing some jezebel who didn’t give a damn about the children to take them from him. “She abandoned them once. For all we know, she’ll do it again.”
“My Lord Chancellor,” Gilpin put in, “how can we know if this woman who claims to be the mother is truly Charity Comerford Fairfax?”
Denbury tilted his head back. “I’m sure I would know her.”
The Lord Chancellor regarded the viscount with interest. “You would?”
“Yes, indeed.” The smug expression on Denbury’s face made Sunny’s gut twist. “I am very well acquainted with Charity Comerford.”
“I’ll bet you are.” Sunny glared at him. “Did you make it your mission to find her after your daughter brought my governess’s letter to you? I suppose you ran that wench to ground all for the purpose of using her as a tool to steal the children away.”
“No indeed,” Denbury said placidly. “As a matter of fact, my daughter, Mrs. Abigail Drummond, just recently informed me of Charity’s whereabouts.”
Sunny’s head was spinning. He did not know what Denbury was about, but he did comprehend that whatever it was, it did not bode well for Sunny’s chances of keeping the girls. “How did your daughter, a gentlewoman, come to be acquainted with Charity Comerford?” he demanded to know.
The Lord Chancellor seemed to be having trouble following the conversation. “What does your daughter have to do with this case?” he asked Denbury.
“Mrs. Drummond is my former governess’s previous employer,” Sunny informed him.
“No, she wasn’t.” Denbury shot him a puzzled look. “I care deeply about what becomes of the children because my family was quite close to your cousin Cornelius and his wife when we resided in the West Indies.”
“The devil you say.” This was the first Sunny had heard of Denbury living on the islands. “When was that?”
“I lived in the West Indies for many years…until I came into the title six years ago. I oversaw my family’s lucrative sugarcane plantation.”
The Lord Chancellor rose. “I see there is much here that needs to be sorted out. I shall go and speak with the lady to ascertain both her identity and her intent. If you’ll excuse me, my lords, Your Grace.”
As soon as the Lord Chancellor exited the room, Sunny shot to his feet and paced across the chamber. “What does this mean?” he hissed at Gilpin, who’d risen and followed him to the far corner of the room.
Gilpin rubbed the back of his neck. Sunny was well enough acquainted with the man to know that signaled that his solicitor was uneasy.
“The arrival of the girls’ mother, if that is who the new arrival is, is not a positive development for us.” Gilpin pressed his lips tightly together before continuing. “An unmarried widow would be the natural guardian for children such as Patience and Prudence, especially since the father’s chosen guardian is deceased.”
“Uncle Abel said the twins’ mother was a tavern wench who was very generous with her favors. The girls cannot go and live with someone such as that. She only wed Cornelius for his money.”
“If that’s the case, then it will be easy enough for you to pay her to go away and leave you and the children alone. Perhaps that’s what she’s after. After all, if she’s here, she obviously knows the children are now being cared for by a very wealthy duke.”
“What if she’s an imposter? The twins’ mother lived in the West Indies. No one in London knows what she looks like.”
“Denbury claims to,” Gilpin said grimly. “And the Lord Chancellor might well accept the word of a viscount.”
The door opened, and the Lord Chancellor came in. “I have talked to the widow and am convinced she is sincere. Mrs. Fairfax wishes to speak.” He turned to the open door and addressed someone waiting in the corridor. “Please do come in.”
His heart beating fast, Sunny’s gaze was glued to the door. The woman entered clad in a fine blue silk gown that brought out the color of her eyes and complemented her lithe figure in a way that no drab governess’s shroud ever had.
She surveyed the chamber as if searching him out, her gaze locking with his when she found him. “Hello, Your Grace.”
“Finch,” he said. “Where the devil have you been?”
He watched in shock, barely comprehending what was happening as Isabel embraced Denbury. Through his fog of confusion, Sunny heard the Lord Chancellor call for them all to resume their seats, directing Isabel to the chair opposite his own at the far end of the table.
“What in Hades is going on?” Sunny murmured to Gilpin as they made their way back to the table. “Finch has decided to testify against me after all?”
Gilpin tracked Isabel’s movements with his eyes. “Unless I misunderstand the situation, your governess is Charity Fairfax, the children’s mother.”
Sunny sat with a heavy thud. Suddenly, Finch’s fierce motherly devotion to the children made perfect sense.
He hungrily took in the contours of Isabel’s lovely face, her every gesture and movement. He did not know exactly what her presence here portended for the future, but he did know he’d missed her terribly. All he wanted to do was take her into his arms, even if she did want to take the girls from him.
The Lord Chancellor gestured toward Isabel. “Perhaps, Mrs. Fairfax, you could share with the gentlemen in this chamber what you told me out in the corridor.”
“Very well.” Finch sat straight, her posture perfect. “My name is Charity Isabel Comerford Fairfax. I was married to Cornelius Benjamin Fairfax, and we were blessed with two daughters, Patience and Prudence, born eight minutes apart. Unfortunately, my husband died of fever when the children were infants. He had designated his elder brother, Jacob, to be the children’s guardian. I believe Ben assumed his brother would look after me and the children.”
The Lord Chancellor cleared his throat. “Allow me to remind everyone in attendance that the testimony given in this chamber is confidential. Please continue, Mrs. Fairfax.”
“Jacob banished me from the family house and forbade me from seeing the children a few months after Ben died.”
Winchester made a grunt of disapproval. “But why would he do that?”
She took a deep breath. “I have promised the Lord Chancellor to be truthful and so I shall be. Jacob held me in dislike because Ben and I anticipated our marriage vows, and I was already with child when we wed.”
“It is no wonder he banished you.” Winchester made a moue of distaste. “Your conduct was not that of a virtuous woman.”
“Stuff it,” Sunny said to the earl. “Who are you to sit in judgment of anyone? It’s the men who shout their virtue from the rooftops who have the most to hide.” He thought of his father. “If I investigated, I’ve no doubt I’d find some skeletons, or tarts, in that closet of yours.”
Winchester reddened. “I assure you that you would not.”
“Let’s continue, shall we?” The Lord Chancellor redirected their attention toward Finch. “Please continue.”
“I realize now that my husband and I were guilty of the arrogance of youth. We were tremendously popular among our set in the West Indies in a way that Jacob never was. Neither my husband nor I paid Jacob much attention. We never gave him much thought, to be perfectly honest. A few months after Ben died, Jacob banished me from the children’s lives. He said I was a woman of low morals who had never shown him the proper respect and that he would not allow me to corrupt the children.”
“The bastard deserved to break his neck,” Sunny murmured. “I’m glad he fell off his horse.”
Isabel continued. “Naturally, I was destroyed by his decision. I couldn’t imagine a life without my babies. Then, about eighteen months later when Jacob died after being thrown from his mount, I saw my opportunity to reunite with my children.”
“But Abel said the children’s mother was a tavern wench who happily abandoned the children,” Sunny said.
“Jacob put about that lie,” Isabel said to him. “He wanted to discredit me. I did grow up in the West Indies, and everyone there knows me and my character, but Jacob was able to discredit me to the Fairfax relatives here in England. My father was the grandson of a marquess. He and my mother died while on a boating trip to a neighboring island.” She smiled with fondness at Denbury. “The viscount took me in and raised me alongside Abigail, his own daughter. He was very good to me.
“When my husband died and Jacob cast me out, Lord Denbury’s family took me in again. But once Jacob died, I went to Cornwall, where the girls were living with their new guardian, Lord Abel Fairfax, my late husband’s uncle, and presented myself as a governess. Lady Abigail provided me with a falsified letter of recommendation.”
“Why did you not simply tell Lord Abel who you are?” Sunny asked.
“I did not know Abel when I first came into his employ, and he is not entirely well. While he might accept me as the children’s mother, what if something happened to him and the girls were moved to another, less sympathetic guardian?”
“I do not understand. They are your children,” Sunny said. “You should have just claimed them.”
“It is not as simple as that,” Gilpin interjected. “The law gives a mother very few rights to her children, especially if the father designated a guardian before his death.”
“And in turn Jacob named Abel as guardian in the event of his death.” Isabel’s voice trembled with both pain and anger. “He wanted to make certain to keep my children from me.”
“You could have told me who you were once you and the children came into my care,” Sunny protested, hating to think of all she’d endured. “I would have set you and the girls up in a household of your own.”
“I know that now. But I could not risk you deciding that your cousin Jacob had been correct about me. I could not face the prospect of being separated from my children again.”
Guilt stabbed Sunny in the gut. He had taken the girls from her, just as she’d feared. “I was wrong to do what I did,” Sunny said. “I do beg your pardon.”
“Pay him no mind, Charity,” Denbury interjected. “He is merely attempting to stop you from giving damaging evidence against him.”
“As to that,” the Lord Chancellor said, “do you have something to tell us about His Grace’s fitness as a guardian?”
Isabel nodded. “I do.”
“Please go on,” the Lord Chancellor said.
She looked from Sunny to the Lord Chancellor. “The Duke of Sunderford is one of the finest men I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He is an excellent guardian who loves my daughters and puts their needs above all else.”
“Charity!” Denbury exclaimed. “Are you saying these things because you fear Sunderford will keep the children from you if he retains guardianship?”
“No, my lord, I am speaking honestly. When we first came to live with His Grace, he did host scandalous parties, but he kept such activities strictly separate from the children. He turned his…the chamber…where he used to hold these revels into a playroom for the children.” Warmth glistened in her beautiful eyes. “He even built Prudence a doll’s house.”
“I say,” Winchester interrupted. “This is not at all what your letter said.”
“I wrote that months ago, and I never intended for anyone to see it. I may even have embellished a bit.” She shot a conspiratorial look at Sunny, who had to swallow a smile because they both knew she had not exaggerated anything about his previous lifestyle. “The duke has not hosted any parties for a while now, and I am convinced he has not been with any women”—she drew a deep breath—“except for me.”
Denbury made a choking sound. “By God! She’s saying Sunderford took grievous advantage of her position in his household.”
“No.” She stared directly at Sunny. “He did not.”
Sunny could not allow Finch to expose her reputation to ruination, or to think that he would actually go through with his threat. “What Miss Finch means to say is that the only females I spend time with of late are her, until she recently left my employ, and the children. That is all.”
“I’ve heard enough,” the Lord Chancellor said. “Given what we’ve learned here today, I’m ready to make a ruling. There is no reason to waste any more of our time.”
Sunny dragged his attention away from Isabel to listen to the decision.
“The mother of these children informs the court that the Duke of Sunderford is an excellent guardian, and we are prepared to accept her view of the matter. However, children should be with their mother, and so I hereby order that the minor children, Patience Finch Fairfax and Prudence Finch Fairfax, be placed in the care of their mother, Mrs. Charity Fairfax.”
“Excellent,” Denbury mumbled.
“However, while the mother is to be the guardian of nurture, the Duke of Sunderford will remain as the children’s testamentary guardian, which means he will retain control of his wards’ property and money.”
Winchester shifted in his chair. “But how can you give custody to Mrs. Fairfax? She has admitted she anticipated her marriage vows to Mr. Fairfax. She is not a fit role model for innocent children.”
“Watch your tongue, Winchester,” Sunny growled. “Pray don’t insult my future duchess.”
“Duchess?” A speculative gleam entered Denbury’s eyes. “You intend to make Charity the Duchess of Sunderford?”
Isabel gave him a startled look. “But why?”
He smiled, his heart full. “Isn’t it obvious? Because I adore you. I haven’t even looked at another woman since you and the girls came into my life. And my life has been a misery these past few weeks when I couldn’t find you.”
“As heartwarming as these declarations are,” the Lord Chancellor said, “I do have other matters to attend to. This meeting is adjourned.”
Denbury stood. He was practically glowing. “Perhaps we should give Sunderford a moment alone with his future duchess.”
Sunny kept his eyes on Isabel, barely noticing the others departing, until the door shut and he was finally alone with her.
He moved toward her, but she was faster. She dashed toward him and launched herself into his arms.
Isabel almost cried with relief to be in Adam’s embrace once again. She’d missed everything about him, his scent, the warmth of his skin, those incredible eyes, making love with him.
“Promise me you’ll never leave me again.” His breath was warm on her neck as he embraced her.
“You have my word.” She held him tightly. She loved him so much her chest ached with it. “I’ll stay with you for as long as you want me.”
“I meant what I told Denbury.” He pulled back. “I want us to be married.”
He looked so grave, so incredibly handsome, the beautiful angles of his face so sharply cut, that it wasn’t easy for her to form a cohesive thought. “Adam, I am completely besotted by you. Of that there is no doubt.”
“Excellent. Then tell me you’ll be mine forever.”
“It’s just that I cannot share you with other women. I’ll be the most jealous wife in the world. I would make both of our lives a misery the minute you take a mistress.”
“I’m not going to take a mistress.”
She pulled back to examine his earnest face. “Given the life you’ve led, are you certain you can make that promise?”
“Other men have managed it. Perhaps I am a better man than my father was. Agree to be my duchess and I’ll prove it to you.”
She pressed a tender kiss against his lips. “You are already a much better man than your father ever was.” She paused. “But what if you grow bored?”
“I don’t see that happening.” He ran his hands down over her bottom as he kissed her deeply. “We just might have to have a playroom of our own to keep things…interesting.”
He went down on one knee. “Isabel…Charity Isabel Comerford Fairfax, will you do me the greatest honor of my life by agreeing to become my wife?”
Isabel’s eyes filled. “Oh, Adam.”
“For God’s sake, Finch, say you’ll be my duchess and put me out of my misery.”
“Yes, I will.” She was tired of being careful, of guarding her heart and living half a life. With Sunny, she would live fully. He was infinitely worth any risk. “It would be my honor to be your wife. I will marry you.”
Triumph blazed in his eyes. “Excellent.” He surged to his feet and took her in a deep, long, demanding kiss that left her breathless and aching for more. Pulling his mouth from hers, he nuzzled her neck, the rough scratch of his chin delicious against her skin. “Before I lose all sense and take you right here, let’s get you home. Patience and Prudie have missed you terribly.”
“Are you saying that you’re our real mama?” Patience asked after Isabel hugged both girls forever. She’d missed them dearly. But at the depths of her soul, she’d never believed Sunny would keep the girls from her.
Prudie nibbled on her thumbnail as she digested the revelation. “You had to tell a story that you were our governess so that this mean cousin of Papa’s wouldn’t take you away from us?”
“Exactly.” Isabel pressed a kiss onto the child’s forehead. “But now we can all be together.”
Isabel and Sunny had found the girls in the playroom. Prudie at her doll’s house and Patience doing cartwheels on the beam.
Patience threw her arms around Isabel’s neck. “I’ve always wished we had a mama.”
“But we always have,” Prudie put in. “Izzy has always been our mama.”
Patience pulled back to look at Isabel. “Can we call you Mama now?”
Isabel’s heart tugged. “Yes, I have waited a long time to hear you call me that.”
Prudie wrapped her little arms around Isabel’s neck. “I love you, Mama.”
Isabel’s eyes watered. “And I love you, my daughters, more than you will ever know.”
Adam had taken a seat on the child-sized sofa, which barely accommodated his frame. “And we have more happy news. Your mama and I are to be wed.”
“Yay!” Prudie raced over and threw herself into Adam’s arms. “Does that mean we can call you Papa?”
He embraced the child, and his questioning gaze met Isabel’s. She nodded.
“Yes, indeed. I am your papa now.”
“Papa, Papa, Papa.” Patience cartwheeled across the room as she said the words. “That’s splendid.” And then she hopped on the wooden beam and began cartwheeling there. Isabel followed and stayed nearby to catch Patience when she fell off the beam. From her vantage point, she watched Prudie cuddle closer to Sunny.
“Will you tell us a story this evening at bedtime, Papa?”
“Doubtful. I don’t know any stories that are appropriate for children.”
“Did your papa ever tell you any stories?”
“He did not. But I’ll tell you what, I’ll come up to the nursery and listen while Mama tells you a story. How about that?”
She popped up to give Adam a kiss before climbing out of his lap and returning to her doll’s house.
Adam said to Isabel, “I have a question that’s been driving me to bedlam.”
“What is it?”
“Who the devil is Finch?”
She smiled. “It was my grandmother’s name.”
“Ah, that explains it.” He rose and went to take hold of Isabel’s hand. “Come.”
She went willingly. “Where are we going?”
He winked at her. “To our own playroom.” He swept her up in an intoxicating kiss, which prompted the girls to stare and giggle.
“After all,” he whispered softly in Isabel’s ear, “you and I have a great deal of romping to catch up on.”