Wicked Earl Seeks Proper Heiress (The Husband Hunters Club #5)

Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

R ufus stood a moment at Averil’s door. There were lights inside the house and he knew they were home, even if James hadn’t told him so when he’d returned from the police house. His uncle had been over the moon, gabbling about Beth and how happy he was. Eustace was there, too, and Rufus mentioned dryly that he believed they had promised him they’d stay at the castle, but both his son and his uncle were practiced prevaricators.

“Have you seen Averil yet?” Eustace demanded, when James had finally run out of things to say.

“I’m seeing her tonight.”

Eustace nodded, giving him a narrowed look. “You’ll need to smarten yourself up a bit, Papa.”

Rufus, who was still wearing his disguise, agreed.

Now here he was, clean and smart, looking every inch an earl, and he still hesitated to ring the bell. When he thought of the expression in Averil’s eyes, as she stood looking up at him in that dingy kitchen at The Tin Soldier, he was hopeful that everything would turn out the way he wanted it to. But then he remembered the scene at the castle, when she had walked away from him, and was cast into doubt once more.

If her answer hadn’t meant so much to him he wouldn’t be so anxious. The thought of a life without her in it was almost unbearable. With a soft groan he finally reached up and rang the bell.

The maid opened the door and peered up at him.

“Lord Southbrook to see Lady Averil,” he said brusquely. “I have some important news for her.”

“Oh. Lord, eh. I’ll just . . .” And she hurried off. Rufus sighed, expecting to be told to go away, but she was back a moment later, informing him that Lady Averil would speak to him in the parlor and to please follow her.

There was a fire in the parlor and a lamp turned down low on a side table. He removed his hat and coat, and then went over to the hearth to stare into the flames. She was going to speak to him then, at least that was something. Although listening to him might be another matter entirely.

He recognized her steps approaching, and then the door opened and there she was. She was wearing a plain blue dress with a single row of lace at the neckline, and her hair was fashioned into a simple knot on top of her head. But then she didn’t need adornments; she was beautiful enough without them.

“Lord Southbrook,” she said, and he thought she was struggling to sound as if she didn’t find it surprising he had called upon her at such an odd time.

“Lady Averil.” He bowed. “I have something to tell you and I thought you would want to hear it as soon as possible.”

She tipped her head slightly to the side, searching his face with her straight, clear gaze. Oh God, how he had missed that look. How he had missed her .

“What is it?”

“I’ve found your sister, Averil.”

She blinked, and then she smiled. “It’s Violet,” she said.

“How did you know?” He was surprised and perhaps a little peeved that his grand gesture had fallen flat. “Sally Jakes has only just confessed it to me.”

Averil reached into the pocket of her dress and drew out a folded letter, handing it to him. He took it and slowly unfolded it, watching the firelight flicker over her face, reflecting the gold specks in her gray eyes. He took a moment to cast his gaze over the appalling writing, but he was able to read enough to understand what had happened.

“Sally admitted it at the police house,” he said, returning the letter. “Violet was your mother’s child and she asked Sally to care for her, according to Sally. Anastasia was afraid Percival Arnutt’s parents would turn the child against her, at least that’s what Sally says. I think she just wanted something of your mother’s, either because she was jealous of her or because she loved her. Both, perhaps.”

Averil sighed. “I’m so glad I know now. I’m so glad I’ve found her. And do you know,” she added, leaning toward him in a confidential manner, “I like her. She’s a brave and good girl, she cares about other people, and she wants to help them. And I can help her to do that. If she’ll let me,” she added wryly. “I think Violet is the sort of person who may object to me wanting to share my inheritance. She’ll see it as charity.”

Rufus laughed softly. “You’ll be able to persuade her.”

She smiled back. “I hope so.”

“Actually I have something for you and Violet. From Sally.”

He removed the crumpled, folded sheet of paper from his pocket. Averil took it as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. She straightened it gingerly and held it to the light. Her gaze ran down the lines to the signature at the bottom and her eyes widened.

“Oh.”

“Your mother wrote it before she died, Averil. Sally kept it all these years.”

Averil didn’t seem to hear him. She had begun to read.

“My dear ones, forgive me. I did not realize when I ran away with Percy that I would not have the chance to make matters right. That things could go so very wrong so quickly. I suppose it is what I deserve. But I loved him so, and I was always one to follow my heart. Averil, I should never have married your father. There I erred. We were so different and I think I believed his sober influence would steady me. Instead I felt suffocated. Forgive me. And Rose, my baby, think of me sometimes and know my biggest regret now is leaving you without your mama. I have asked Sally to care for you and to tell you every day about me, so you don’t forget. Forgive me, my girls, and think of me sometimes as I will think of you, always.

“Anastasia.”

Averil’s eyes were filled with tears. She blinked and then wiped the tip of her finger beneath her eyes. She took a deep, steadying breath.

There was a pause, but before he could launch into the other reason for his being there, Averil spoke again.

“Thank you for coming to tell me. Thank you for letting me read my mother’s last thoughts. You’ve done exactly as you promised. I’m grateful. And the Home,” she hurried on, looking away, fiddling with the buttons on her sleeves. “If you hadn’t found out what Jackson and Sally Jakes were up to . . . well, we might have lost many more women.”

“Averil . . .”

“And Gareth was so worried, what with everything else that has been happening. The baroness. And then—”

“Averil, stop. There’s something else I want to say.”

She froze, her lips parted, her eyes wide. “ Some-something else?”

* * *

The way he was looking at her was making her agitated, and she’d been so calm up until now. Even when she read that heartbreaking letter. His dark eyes slid over her face, pausing on her lips as if he wanted to kiss her. Averil tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was she who wanted to kiss him . She wanted to throw herself into his arms and kiss him and let him touch her as he had the day of the storm.

There had been times since then when she’d awoken in the night, aching for his touch in a way that made her want to weep, wanting to hold him and say all the things to him that were in her heart. And now here he was, in the flesh, and she was struggling to keep her distance.

“Averil,” he said, and his voice dropped into that deeper register that sent tingles over her skin. “We parted at the castle in a way that has troubled me ever since.”

He was going to apologize. Averil felt her spirits sink. He felt sorry for her and now that his uncle was marrying Beth he wanted to be on good terms with her. Distant acquaintances. She really couldn’t bear it.

“There’s no need,” she said briskly. “I like to think that is all past and we can move on with our lives. Our separate lives.”

“Our separate lives?”

She stood up. She couldn’t seem to sit still anymore. And besides, she might begin to cry in a ridiculous manner, and then he’d feel the need to comfort her and she might well do something reprehensible. Like kiss him.

He stood up, too, and took her hands. He held them tightly to still her fidgeting. He was very close suddenly, and her heart was beating so quickly she wondered if it would leap out of her chest.

“Averil, I am selling the castle. I am selling the house in Mayfair. We’ve agreed between us, James and Eustace and me. The money is no longer important to me.”

“Oh.” It was all she could manage. His lovely castle! How could he bear to give it up, and why was he?

“Marry me, Averil. I love you. I love you . I don’t want your money, I never did. James talked me into the whole thing, and although I went along with it, I was always worried it would come back to haunt me. I fell in love with you and then you found out about the debts, and you thought I only wanted you for your fortune. I don’t.”

He looked flushed and anxious, and his eyes were fixed on her as if he expected her to laugh in his face.

“You’re giving up your castle?” she whispered.

“And the Mayfair house. The lot. I won’t be a wealthy man, but I’ll have enough to offer you a respectable life, and without touching a penny of your fortune. That’s for you to do with as you wish.”

He was giving everything up. He was giving it up for her. To prove that he loved her.

Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back. Her smile transformed her face, and when he saw it, suddenly he was smiling, too, and she did what she’d wanted to do all along. She flung herself into his arms.

* * *

His beautiful Averil was in his arms, her face turned to his, her arms about his neck tugging him down. Instead he lifted her, her feet dangling above the floor, and kissed her as wildly and passionately as he’d been dreaming of.

“I love you,” he groaned. “Averil, don’t ever leave me again.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” she muttered feverishly, planting little hot kisses over his face, finally finding his mouth.

Ah, this was what he wanted, he thought, and prepared to delve into the warm, sweet depths with his tongue.

There was the sound of the door to the parlor opening and then something huge knocked against him, almost sending him sprawling. He turned, his arms still around Averil, and found himself looking into Hercules’s excited face, and there behind the dog, his son.

“Oh good,” Eustace said, smiling widely. “You did it, Papa! Averil, you’re going to marry him, aren’t you? I was so worried he’d mess it up again.”

Rufus groaned and sank down into the chair. Hercules tried to lick him, but Eustace wisely tugged the dog away. Averil looked from one to the other of them, and then she laughed.

“Oh dear, I can see that by marrying one of the Southbrooks I will be marrying them all.”

“Not marrying us,” Eustace retorted a little scornfully, “but perhaps you will be my-my mother?” He looked at her anxiously. “Will you, Averil?”

Rufus watched her rest her hand gently on his son’s head. “I think I’d like that,” she told him.

“Good,” the earl said, “that’s sorted out. Now can we have some time alone, Eustace? And take that monster with you.”

Eustace grinned and began to drag Hercules from the room.

“No, wait.” Averil touched Rufus’s sleeve, her fingers clinging as if she didn’t want to let go. “There’s something I want to say. To you both.”

What now? Rufus wondered. He didn’t want any more hurdles to jump over. He’d given up his Southbrook inheritance spanning centuries for the woman he loved, and she’d accepted him. He wanted to wallow in the sweetness of the moment and start planning for their years together.

“I know how much Southbrook Castle means to you,” Averil said, her chin up, as if she expected opposition. “I rather like it myself. In fact I envy you both such a wonderful home, and all the history that goes with it. Rufus”—and she looked at him—“I never begrudged the money you wanted to spend on your castle. It wasn’t that. It was the fact that you didn’t tell me, that you weren’t honest.”

“Averil—”

“That you are willing to give it up, all of it, for me . . . That makes all the difference. Don’t sell your castle or your Mayfair home. We’ll need somewhere to live, and Eustace must have his inheritance. I have a great deal of money, enough for everyone.”

Eustace gave a shout of glee and went running from the room, presumably to tell Uncle James, who was no doubt lurking about somewhere. Rufus looked at his beloved and shook his head.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, Averil. You should think very hard before—”

“I have. I want to do it. I want to sit by the lake with you on summer evenings and climb the stairs to the tower in the winter, and watch the weather coming in from the North Sea.”

“Storms?” he murmured, his mouth quirking into a smile.

Her eyes brightened. “I’ll need you to comfort me, won’t I? Are there a great many storms at Southbrook Castle?”

“A very great many.”

“Oh . . .” she whispered.

He kissed her then, and this time they were not interrupted.