Page 15 of Wicked Rivals
“Let’s return to the manor house, and I’ll see that your family is settled in.”
He and Higgins mounted their horses and followed the dirt road home. Behind them came a wagon with the children, pulled by two plow horses. A young woman stood on the front steps of the grand old Lennox House. A breeze tugged at the skirts of her pale-blue day gown. Long blond hair that matched his own was coiled on the top of her head in the fashion of the day. No bonnet, of course. His little sister Joanna detested the things.
“Ashton!” She rushed down the steps as he slid off his gelding and handed the reins to a waiting groom.
“Joanna.” He smiled and opened his arms. She hastened to embrace him. It never failed to puzzle him that not one man in England had tried to court her since her come-out. She was lovely, if a bit shy, but exceedingly intelligent and formidable at conversation. He’d settled a large dowry on her, hoping to tempt some of the braver bucks to come calling, but none had. Perhaps what he saw as virtues in her were not considered desirable traits by other men. They were fools if that was the case.
“Thank you for your coming home so quickly. Mother and I have been frantic for the tenants. We’ve assumed you might wish to bring them here until the new homes could be built.” Joanna saw Higgins and his passel of children standing hesitantly a few yards away. “Mr. Higgins, please come in. Your wife and children will be settled as well, and we’ve prepared new rooms for everyone.”
Ashton watched his sister with pride as she escorted the weary and stressed farmer along with his excited brood into their home. Following them at a distance, he paused at the grand stairs. Joanna would make a fine head of a household someday, if only he could find a man to marry her. If Jonathan St. Laurent hadn’t already taken an interest in Audrey, Ashton would have been tempted to turn the younger man’s attentions to his sister. He wanted a man he could trust to love and care for Joanna, not some buck fresh from university who was looking to run wild in London.
A cool voice interrupted his thoughts. “So, you’ve returned.”
His mother, Regina Lennox, stood at the top of the stairs. Still lovely for a woman her age, she made an impressive sight in a cranberry-red gown.
“I was summoned. Therefore, I returned.” He smacked his hands against his thighs, sending a cloud of dust in the air before coming up the stairs to join her.
“At least you care enough about the farmers to return.” Judgment lay heavy in Regina’s tone. It pricked his heart, but he shut down any emotions before they could show on his face.
“Don’t start, Mother. I am not in the mood.”
“As you wish.”
As a boy he had adored his mother, and she had doted on him and his siblings. Yet after he was sent away to Eton, their father had burned through their fortune at the gaming tables. His mother had suffered from their fall from society when her friends turned their backs on her and she was invited to fewer and fewer dinners and balls. For a woman like his mother, who thrived on human company, she felt increasingly trapped and alone. And all of this had worsened when their father was run over by a carriage while leaving a gambling hell. He’d died and left their lives in utter shambles.
Ashton had come home and done everything in his power to put the family back into a good position. But his mother hadn’t responded to his actions with joy. Rather, she’d told him that his need for money and power had made him just like his father.
The words had cut deep, and the coldness he’d felt from her since that day had left him wounded and angry. Even the memory left a bitter taste in his mouth. Needless to say, family dinners at Lennox House were damned awkward—when he bothered to come home for them.
Regina continued as if their previous exchange hadn’t happened. “We are having guests tonight for dinner. The Mertons will be here at seven. It would be good for you to attend.”
Ashton paused at the top of the stairs, meeting his mother’s eyes. For a long moment neither of them moved, the silent challenge hanging in the air.
“Merton still has an unmarried daughter, does he not?”
Regina’s eyes narrowed. “He does.”
“Ah, therein lies the problem. I have no intention of dining with a family you seek to ally with by marriage.” Ashton tugged his cravat free of his neck as he waited for his mother’s inevitable outburst.
“Not everything is about alliances, child. Sometimes it’s about love and affection. Heavens, I knew you had too much of Edmund in you, but I had hoped there might be a bit of me in you somewhere as well.” Hurt and anger flashed in her eyes, surprising Ashton. But he’d spent too many years suffering her callous remarks about his cold heart and ruthless soul to be affected by her now.
“I’m a coldhearted bastard, Mother. Isn’t that what you called me? That isn’t about to change,” he replied, his tone frosty. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to wash off this ash and see to some matters in my study. Charles and Jonathan will arrive tonight, so please have the housekeeper prepare two rooms in the south wing.”
His mother said nothing, but he knew she would do as he asked. She may have disliked her eldest son, but she was always a warm and gracious hostess, even to the League.
Ashton strode to his chamber and started stripping off his clothes. His shoulder, the one that had taken a bullet last Christmas, still twinged with the occasional phantom pain. The muscles protested as he stretched the arm a few times. He stared into the mirror, startled by his face, which was still dusted with ash from the fire. Lines bracketed his mouth, and a weariness shadowed his eyes. He looked…like his father, with a pale, ghostly cast to his cheeks and a haunted expression in his eyes. The dark thought made him splash cold water on his face, wiping away the remnants of his personal nightmare. The last thing he ever wished was to be like the man who’d destroyed his family’s world.
He didn’t turn away as his valet slipped into the room.
“A hot bath is ready for you in your dressing room, my lord.”
“Thank you, Lowell. How are the Higgins and Maple families settling in?”
Lowell, a young man of his midtwenties, grinned. “Well, my lord. The children are running about the kitchens, and Mrs. Gibbs can’t make plum tarts fast enough to keep them fed.”
A smile curved Ashton’s lips as he headed for the dressing room to bathe. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Mrs. Gibbs adored children, and the two tenant families would keep her happily occupied for some time. Lennox House rarely entertained guests. Their nearest neighbors, the Mertons, were the only guests to attend the infrequent house parties for dinner. Ashton spent all of his time in London or at the estates of his friends, preferring to avoid his mother except when business necessitated his return.
