Page 20 of To Claim the Long-Lost Lover
Sarah tried to ignore the lifting of her heart. “I don’t know what to think, Uncle James.”
“I think you need to give your young man the opportunity to explain himself, Sarah. And then we will talk again.”
9
Nate was awakened in the middle of the afternoon by the sound of his father, shouting. “Get him up now and tell him Lord Lechton demands he come out here immediately.” Nate’s manservant’s voice was softer—Nate couldn’t hear his words, but assumed he was trying to put the old man off. Nate had instructed he was not to be awakened until it was time to dress for whatever Libby had in store for them tonight.
“It’s fine, Jackson,” he called. “I am awake. Bring my father a glass of brandy and come and help me dress.”
“Be quick about it,” Lechton shouted. “You have some explaining to do, Bentham.”
Lechton was pacing back and forth across Nate’s small sitting room when Nate emerged from his bedchamber less than five minutes later. “You need a shave, and you shouldn’t appear before me half dressed,” Lechton greeted him.
Nate finished buttoning his waistcoat. “You said to be quick,” he reminded the man.
“Now, you obey me?” Lechton stamped one foot, looking for all the world like a choleric bull. “I told you to give up this doctoring rubbish. I told you to stay away from the Winderfield woman. I am your father! You owe me your obedience!”
As far as Nate was concerned, Lechton had ceased to have any rights as his father when he betrayed Nate to the Earl of Sutton and signed the papers to have Nate consigned to the navy.
Lechton took Nate’s silence in bad part. “You cannot deny it. I saw you leaving that clinic place. I asked questions. You had spent the night there pretending to be a doctor, and you were on your way to the Winderfield mansion with a patient.”
The old man was spying on him now? Presumably he had been visiting one of the houses of entertainment in the area. Nate should ask him the name of the brothel he’d been at. No. No point in getting into a shouting match to edify all the neighbours. “I will continue to serve at the Ashbury Clinic, my lord, and I intend to reconcile with my wife as soon as possible.”
Lechton gaped, then gobbled like a turkey, unable to form intelligible words in his anger.
“Sit down, my lord,” Nate advised, “and take a sip of brandy.”
His father plopped into a seat. Just as well only a small portion remained in the glass, or he would be wearing it. Nate picked up the bottle and poured a little more, and Lechton took a gulp.
“I’ll bring you to heel,” he threatened. “I will cut you off without a penny. No more allowance.”
“The threat would be more effective if you had ever paid me an allowance,” Nate drawled, which prompted another gobble and another gulp.
“The marriage was invalid. You were both minors,” Lechton insisted, next.
Nate shrugged. “The banns were read. Neither guardian objected. We were legally wed.” He wasn’t nearly as confident of that as he tried to sound. His seventeen-year-old self had read a case in the papers about a young couple who settled far from where they were known and married that way. The courts had held that the banns had been read in public, allowing the guardians to object, and since they had not done so (even though the reason for their forbearance was that they weren’t there and weren’t told), the marriage was legal.
Nate had discussed a similar plan with his cousin, doing his best to reproduce the conditions in the newspaper account. Cousin Arthur agreed it sounded reasonable. He knew even more than Nate about the Earl of Sutton’s proposed suitors for his daughters, and was prepared to do anything he could to help keep Lady Sarah from such a cruel fate.
But neither of the people in the article had a wealthy duke for a grandfather. Winshire might have been able to have the marriage annulled. No matter. If they were no longer married, they could always wed again. If Sarah would agree. If affection between them was reignited as easily as the physical attraction.
“I have her father’s word. The marriage was invalid,” Lechton repeated. His voice turned pleading. “Forget Sarah Winderfield. There are plenty of younger, prettier girls on the market.”
“Lady Bentham,” Nate corrected. “She has been my wife these seven years, even though you conspired with her father and brother to part us.” Which was unfair. Lechton had been Winshire’s lackey, not his ally. He was a weak and foolish old man, but not a monster.
Lechton drew himself up to his full height, still some inches short of Nate’s near six feet. “You are not married. But I shall see about rectifying that immediately. I can see you have no intention of seeking a bride, so I shall arrange a marriage for you, and you can put all this nonsense behind you.”
“Don’t do it, my lord. I shall not sign any papers. I shall not agree to any marriage you arrange.”
“You will if you want to see my wife and your sisters ever again.” Lechton sneered, clearly thinking he had a winning hand.
Nate heaved a sigh. “I would regret such a split, and I hope you will not carry out a threat that would hurt them as much as me. But if that is the price I must pay to keep my promises, then so be it. My man will show you out, my lord.”
Lechton managed a few more indignant splutters and some other toothless threats before he finally left. The Ashbury Clinic was sponsored by a ducal family, and wouldn’t dismiss him as a result of the bullying of an earl with limited social connections. And the new Duke of Winshire, by what Nate had heard, was a very different man to his predecessor. One, furthermore, who allowed his own daughter to be a doctor.
Lechton was unlikely to get a hearing from the duke, and what would he say if he did? Nate was no longer the near penniless son of a humble vicar. He had been adding to his investments from his prize money for many years, and could well afford a wife. And the heir of an earl might aspire to the hand of a duke’s daughter, even if he hadn’t already married her years ago.
Really, Lechton, you are being ridiculous. Nate knew quite well what bee Lechton had in his bonnet. He was convinced a girl fresh out of the schoolroom was more likely to give him grandsons. As if a woman of three and twenty was past childbearing!
