Page 5 of A Wicked Earl's Widow
“I’ll arrange for a coach without our crest.” Falsbury resumed his pacing again, his tall figure emanating power and comfort to both women. “He’ll know of someone that can be trusted. With only three outsiders in our confidence, our secret should be safe enough.”
“Come my dear, let us have a quiet dinner while we finish the details. I will have a final meal with my daughter.” Lydia squeezed her hands, spreading warmth into Eliza’s icy fingers. “Whether you like it or not, you are part of our family and will always be treated as such.”
“And protected,” added Falsbury.
She was done to a cow’s thumb, exhaustion and relief creeping through her bones like thick molasses. Peace was all she wanted. All she had ever hoped for in this life. But Eliza had learned the carriage of life had a tendency to take sharp turns, and one had to be ready grab the leather strap and hold on.
Chapter Three
April 1818
Durham, England
The Viscount Pendletontook a deep pull of his ale and raised his tankard high. He threw back his head and added his voice to the drunken patrons of the Bear and Bull Inn.
But the standingtoast
That pleased the most
Was the wind that blows
The ship that goes,
And the lass that loves a sailor.
He slammedthe metal cup on the wooden table and leaned back in his chair, grinning at his estate steward. “Maxwell, this is one of your better ideas today. Good food, pretty maids”—he slapped a buxom redhead on the bottom as she walked by balancing four mugs—“and fine ale.” The girl smiled, winked at him, and moved on to the next table.
“We’ve earned it, my lord. Work hard, play hard my father always said.” Ezra Maxwell raised his own tankard. “To a job well done, sir.”
The sound of clanking metal and liquid slopping onto a tabletop joined another round of the maritime song.
“You know I always wanted to be a sailor,” Nathaniel said, his voice slurring just a tiny bit. He was sure his steward hadn’t notice.
“Ye can’t swim.” He leaned forward, eyes squinting as he focused on Nathaniel. “Not to be impertinent but what kind of blasted sailor doesn’t swim?”
“The kind who is very careful never to fall off the ship!”
Both men guffawed and slammed their cups together again as plates of mutton and gravy with fresh crusty bread was set before them. Nate took a bite of the tender meat and closed his eyes, the gravy sliding down his throat to answer his growling stomach. The food was surprisingly good and would help sober him up. How did Maxwell manage to find places like this? It wasn’t often either of the men overindulged, but this was a celebration.
His investment in the Durham carpet factory had paid off in aces. Pendle Place and the accompanying properties, run to the ground by his father, once again turned a profit. It had taken thirteen years, but Pendleton was a respected family name again.
“I would like to make a toast to the best man in England. Clever, industrious, and loyal. May I never have to make a decision without you.” He held up his ale but this time his voice was soft and serious. “You have been like a second father to me. I don’t know where I or my mother and sister would be without you this past decade.”
“It’s not my doing, my lord. You were an astute student and eager to learn.” Red seeped up Maxwell’s neck and he waved off the compliment. “I only did as my position dictated and fulfilled my duties as estate manager.”
“Yourdutiesdid not include raising a twelve-year-old boy and teaching him what his father never bothered to learn. Mother says if he hadn’t died, we’d have lost everything.”
Died was a misleading word. The previous viscount had been in a duel after being caught with another man’s wife. His father had never been much of a shot, and he succumbed to a chest wound several days later. It had been a long and unpleasant death.
“Your father should never have inherited the title. He was the third son and not suited to such a position of responsibility. He had no head for business.” Maxwell stroked his beard with his thumb and two fingers. “Or marriage for that matter. A wanderer’s soul, your father had. But he did care for his family, regardless of what your mother says.”
“Don’t say that in front the viscountess unless you want to feel the barb of her tongue. She disliked him before his death and despised him afterwards. I remember hearing the arguments whenever he made it home. He almost pilfered away my grandfather’s legacy.”
“Your mother intimidated him. She was beautiful, awake on every suit, and more educated than your father. Sure, he went to university, but he learned more about gambling and horse racing than ledgers and economics.” He sighed, his blue eyes thoughtful.
“I have no doubt on that count.” Nate had no illusions when it came to his parent.
Both men were silent for a time while they ate. “You look more like him with each passing year. There are times when I swear it’s him riding up the road. He had some good qualities, you know.”
