Vicar's Daughter Page 4

  “So, if it’s not to secure Lord Thornton for a husband, just what are your plans concerning him?” Helen asked.

  Christina took a breath as she looked from her father to Helen. “I fear it concerns his spiritual condition,” she began and told them about his life since he’d come home from war, how embittered and hopeless he seemed. “And the worst thing is he no longer has faith in God. From what I can understand, he feels God has abandoned him and his family. I feel it’s my duty to help him see God loves him.”

  The teasing light from her father’s eyes was soon replaced with concern. “Christina, I know you think you can help him, and that’s extremely commendable of you, but I fear you’ll be taking on more than you can handle. I wasn’t joking when I said Thornton has garnered quite a bad reputation in London. Any sort of connection with him might not be prudent, no matter how noble the reason.”

  “But I’ve already given my word, Father. He’s expecting me this morning.”

  Christina gazed imploringly at her father, a look that served her well when it came to winning an argument.

  With a heavy sigh, Reverend Wakelin stood from the table and stared down at both young women. “If you must go, then I insist Helen go with you,” he said in no uncertain terms.

  Helen, whose one goal in life was to marry a titled gentleman, was not going to pass an opportunity to rub shoulders with one when presented, no matter how much of a scoundrel she believed Lord Thornton to be. “Of course I’ll go with her.”

  Stifling the moan Christina felt rising within her, she gave into her father’s demand. “Yes, that will be fine. I should have thought of it myself,” she told them, all the while wondering how she was going to explain the presence of yet another person barging into Lord Thornton’s self-imposed solitude.

  ❧

  Because Nicholas had trouble falling asleep the night before, it seemed only minutes had passed when he heard the discreet cough beside his bed. Which was odd, really, considering he’d ordered his bedroom strictly off limits as long as he occupied it. That especially meant the morning, so if he chose to sleep until noon, there’d be no one to bother him in his slumber.

  He tried to turn away from the sound, but to no avail. Another cough rang throughout his bedchamber—this time a bit louder and more than a bit closer.

  “Go away,” he commanded without moving or opening his eyes.

  “I fear I cannot, my lord,” came the starchy reply.

  Nicholas realized this was a voice he did not recognize. Like a shot, he turned and sat up, glaring at the tall skinny stranger with narrowed, wary eyes. “Who are you?” he demanded.

  Undaunted, the young man straightened his stiff posture even more and thrust his pointed chin in the air. “The name is Smith, my lord, your new valet.”

  Nicholas wondered if perhaps he was still asleep and only dreaming he’d been awakened. Even better, maybe he’d dreamed all of yesterday—the baby, the nanny, and that annoying Miss Wakelin too.

  “Are you all right, my lord?”

  He sighed, knowing that even in his sleep he could not dream up such a grating voice.

  “I do not have a valet,” Nicholas growled, ignoring the young man’s question.

  “You do, today, my lord. Pierce, a cousin of mine on my mother’s side, hired me just this morning. I was told to start right away.”

  “Well, it all makes perfect sense now,” Nicholas grumbled as he got out of bed and walked over to his washbasin. “Only one related to Pierce could annoy me as much as he does.”

  He grabbed a linen cloth from the dresser and wiped the moisture from his face. “You can go back downstairs and inform your cousin I have no need of your services, and if he keeps overstepping his bounds, I won’t have need of his either!”

  The young man shook his head. “My lord, it is my opinion that all gentlemen need a valet’s services.”

  “This one does not, so take your opinions and leave, Man!” he shouted.

  “In order to properly bring up one’s heir, a gentleman needs to bring order to his life so he can be a proper example. That is why my services are needed, my lord,” Smith stated as if he were quoting.

  “Did Pierce tell you that?”

  “My father did, my lord. He is the valet to the Duke of Northingshire.”

  “Wait a minute,” Nicholas interjected. This was the second time in two days North’s name had been mentioned. “Is he orchestrating this whole affair? Because if he is. . .”

  “I beg your pardon, my lord?” Smith queried, his puzzlement authentic.

  Nicholas stalked to the door that led to his dressing chamber. “Never mind, just leave. I’ll deal with you and your annoying cousin after breakfast.”

  He slammed the thick oak door behind him, but he could hear Smith from the other side. “Very good, my lord. And I hope the blue coat I laid out for you meets with your approval. I thought it the most appropriate for meeting your nephew this morning.”

  Nicholas stared at the carefully laid out blue coat and black trousers. Just for spite, he knocked them aside and pulled a green one from his collection.

  ❧

  A housemaid escorted Christina and Helen to the nursery on the second floor of the west wing upon their arrival. There they found Mrs. Sanborne rocking the baby.

  Already, Christina could see the staff had been hard at work bringing life into the old room with fresh linens, newly polished furniture, and warm rugs in pastel shades on the wood floors.

  “Ah, stupendous! My dear Miss Wakelin, I was hoping you’d pay us a visit,” Mrs. Sanborne sang out in her enthusiastic way. Her bright eyes turned to Helen. “And you’ve brought a friend! Why, that’s stupendous!”

  “This is Miss Helen Nichols. Helen, Mrs. Sanborne is young Tyler’s new nanny.” The two women nodded to one another, but Christina’s eyes were all for the baby.

  “Oh, do let me hold him, Mrs. Sanborne. I’ve thought of nothing else since I left here yesterday,” she confessed as the nanny gently handed Tyler into her arms.

  Mrs. Sanborne grinned proudly. “My, you look quite stupendous holding that child. I must say you should marry and have some of your own.”

  Helen took one of the baby’s tiny hands into her own. “It has been difficult during the war for any of us country misses to procure a husband with all our men off fighting,” she replied, her voice sad.

  “’Tis true,” Mrs. Sanborne agreed. “But isn’t it lucky his lordship was able to come home and be here for his dear nephew?”

  “I don’t think ‘his lordship’ appreciates his good fortune, though. I think it shall be up to us to help him realize it,” Christina declared as she bent to kiss the baby’s soft cheek.

  “I did not appreciate the silence of this old house until it was bombarded with the silly chatter of women and a crying baby,” Thornton said from the doorway, his voice filled with disdain. He scanned the room until his eyes landed on Helen. “And who are you? It seems my house is overrun by strangers this morning.”

  Christina turned to him at the sound of his voice, and for a moment she felt her pulse quicken. And because she did not want to feel excitement where this rogue was concerned, she retaliated with sarcasm. She managed to execute an overly dramatic curtsy while holding the baby with one arm and fanning her skirt with the other. “My Lord Thornton, we are so glad you have graced us with your estimable presence this morning, and, yes, we are all quite well. Thank you for inquiring.”

  Their eyes clashed and held—Christina’s matching the challenge in the earl’s stare.

  The silence in the room grew thick. “My lord!” Mrs. Sanborne burst out. “How good of you to come see after your dear nephew. What a stupendous sleeper he is too.”

  Seeing how Mrs. Sanborne’s favorite word was affecting the earl, Christina felt laughter bubbling up within her. Though she tried to stifle it, she found she could not.

  It was the proverbial straw on the camel’s back. “Mrs. Sanborne, could you please cease in your us
e of that irritating word!” he barked out. “And have you no sense, Miss Wakelin, not to laugh in the face of a lion!”

  Mrs. Sanborne abruptly stopped her chatter, and both she and Helen took several steps away from him. Truthfully, Christina wanted to run, but she’d sooner be stung by a hundred bees than let the earl see her fear.

  “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, did we?” Christina observed lightly. “Perhaps a little breakfast will set your mood aright. We wouldn’t want to scare a poor helpless baby with our voices, now would we?”

  They both looked down at Tyler, and to Christina’s chagrin, he was looking at his frowning uncle with bright eyes, blowing bubbles from his tiny mouth.

  The moment he saw her staring at him, however, his face returned to its usual expression. “I’d say he’s none the worse for wear,” he muttered. Then, as if he were suddenly in a hurry to escape, he nodded stiffly and left the room.

  Five

  Soon after their encounter, the Earl of Kenswick sent his butler to inform the women that under no circumstances was he to be disturbed. Mrs. Sanborne would direct all problems to the new valet or send for Christina. He did not want reports on how his nephew was faring, nor did he want to visit him. He just wanted to be left alone.

  Christina, of course, thought this was ludicrous and had no qualms about disobeying his order, but doing so was much harder than she anticipated.

  In fact, nearly a fortnight had passed and not once had she gained an audience with the earl.

  How was her plan ever going to work if she could not talk to him or get him to see his nephew? Doubts began to plague her. Maybe the earl really was a lost cause. Maybe not even she could reach him.

  Every day she prayed God would give her guidance, and every time she prayed, she felt God did not want her to give up on him.

  So she decided to persevere—and become a little devious. Several times she was able to catch him coming from the library or walking in the garden when he thought she had already left the estate. Still, he would either ignore her or tell her he had no desire to converse.

  Christina became so dispirited at her thwarted attempts to help him that she stopped seeking him out. In fact, she came to the decision by week’s end that she’d no longer go to Kenswick Hall except for the occasional visit to Mrs. Sanborne and the baby. The nanny was doing an excellent job, and it was silly to keep coming when there was no need.

  On the particular morning she made her decision, Pierce appeared in the garden telling Christina that Lord Thornton wanted to speak with her in his study.

  Curious and elated, Christina nodded to the butler and began to follow him when Helen grabbed her by the arm. “Christina, you cannot think to meet with the earl alone. I must go with you!”

  Christina knew she would not be able to speak to Lord Thornton frankly if Helen was in the room. Besides, she’d waited so long to speak with him that she didn’t want to share the moment with Helen. Of course, he would be upset to see Helen there too, making him change his mind about seeing her altogether.

  Quickly she thought of an alternative. “Pierce,” she said. “Is there a window in the study that overlooks the garden?”

  Pierce frowned. “Yes, Miss Wakelin, ’tis over there directly in front of us.”

  “There, you see, Helen? You can stay outside with the baby and watch us from the window. I can assure you, all will be very proper.”

  “Oh, I see,” Helen said slowly. “You want to speak to Lord Thornton alone.”

  “I don’t believe you ‘see’ at all, Helen, and I know I don’t like what you’re trying to imply,” Christina replied.

  “If you say so,” Helen said with a casual shrug.

  Knowing she was not going to convince Helen there was nothing between the earl and herself, Christina sighed with frustration and headed toward the house.

  Pierce led her to the study, where she found Lord Thornton studiously looking over what appeared to be a ledger. He glanced her way and mumbled something about being with her in a moment, then returned his attention to his desk.

  Christina squelched the hurt feelings that were once again aroused inside her. Forcing herself not to dwell on his snobbery, she realized it was the perfect time to open the heavy velvet curtains that covered the window. Not only would it allow Helen to see in, it would brighten the otherwise dark and depressing room. With purpose, she pushed the curtains aside, allowing the brilliant sunlight to fill the room.

  The earl’s response was immediate. “If I’d wanted the curtains open, I would have opened them. Close them. Now!”

  Instead of obeying his command, Christina turned to look squarely at him. “Why?”

  He blinked, clearly not expecting his wishes questioned. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Why do you want them closed?”

  “Because I don’t like them opened.”

  Christina felt a shiver of apprehension run up her spine at his deceptively soft tone. Swallowing, she made herself stand firm. “From what I can tell, there is not much you do like.”

  For a moment, she thought she saw a slight smile curve his lips, but it was so brief, she supposed she must have imagined it. “You’re right. There’s not much I do like anymore. Now, close the curtain.”

  At those words, Christina put a hand to her chest and stepped toward him. “But that is so sad! How can you live like that?”

  “I was living it very well until you came crashing into my life, disrupting my peace at every opportunity.”

  He sounded so much like a disgruntled little boy that Christina laughed. “I might have crashed into you once, but I’m not the one who dropped a baby on your doorstep.” She folded her arms and gave him a direct look. “And let’s not forget, I might have stayed out of your life had you not brought me back into it.”

  He stood and walked around his desk toward her. Christina felt momentarily breathless at how handsome he looked stepping into the sunlight. “Ah, but you accepted the invitation, as I recall, to have a go at making me see the error of my ways, or something like that, did you not?”

  Christina prayed her admiration for him did not show in her face as she stared up at him. Focusing on his question, she replied bluntly, “It’s hard to help someone who will not even talk to me.” She looked away deliberately with a small shrug. “One might think you were a little afraid of being in my presence.”

  “All men are wary of women when they’re on a mission to reform them,” he said as he stepped around her and walked toward the window.

  She turned to see that he was about to close the curtains. “No!” she cried as she ran after him, putting a hand on his arm to stop his movement. “I have the curtains open because I cannot be in here with you without some sort of chaperone. If you had good manners, you’d realize that very fact!”

  He stopped but did not move his arm from her grasp. A puzzled expression filled his eyes. “Are you not alone with me right at this moment?”

  “Not with Helen watching us from the window.” She waved at her friend in the garden.

  Thornton’s eyes narrowed in contemplation. “Watching a couple through a glass pane does not exactly constitute a chaperone.”

  “I know that, but Helen is just a simple country miss and does not know all the rules of society. I fear I have taken advantage of her on that score,” she admitted, feeling slightly ashamed of herself.

  “Where as you are a sophisticated lady of society, hmm?”

  If he thought to embarrass her, he was mistaken. “Of course I’m not. I’ve simply had the advantage of being tutored by an aunt who believes all young ladies should have knowledge of society’s rules, whether they need it or not.” She peered out the window at the two women playing with the baby.

  Thornton gave a loud sigh and walked away from her. “Well, now that your reputation is safe, will you please have a seat so I can discuss something with you?”

  Christina hid a smile at his disgruntled tone and sat where he indicated.

 
Lord Nicholas Thornton leaned back in his large cushioned chair and stared broodingly at her for a moment. “Whether you think I’m afraid of speaking to you or not, Miss Wakelin, I’d appreciate it if you’d cease in your efforts to track me down. It has become a little irritating to find you skulking about every corner that I—”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t call it skulking.”

  “In those lessons your aunt so generously taught you, I don’t suppose there was a lesson on proper etiquette when conversing, was there?” he barked out, clearly irritated she’d interrupted him.

  “Yes, I do believe there was,” Christina said pleasantly, while picking up a small figurine from his desk. “I must not have felt up to listening that day, though. But, please, do continue.”

  He began to speak, but Christina’s attention was fixated on the expertly carved tiger that was no more than three inches long. Great care had gone into creating each feature, from the expressive eyes to the menacing claws on all four paws.

  “This is incredible!” she cried out. “Do you know the person who carved this?”

  “I did,” he said with a frown. “Now, can we get back to what I was—”

  “You did? Unbelievable!”

  “Why does that seem so unbelievable?”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean it that way,” Christina said, realizing she must have hurt his feelings. “I just meant I never knew you had such a wonderful talent.”

  He dismissed her compliment with a wave of his hand. “It’s nothing but a hobby. I’ve just had more time to indulge in my craft lately, which brings me back to what I was saying. My privacy is—”

  “So you haven’t just been brooding and feeling sorry for yourself. You’ve actually been expressing your feelings through art!” She held up the tiger to inspect it again. If he could create beautiful figurines like this, somewhere deep inside was a man who was worth saving—a man who saw beauty in life despite his bitterness and grief.

  Her statement seemed to bother him. “I do not ‘express’ myself, as you call it. I was merely indulging in a hobby.”