Jackal (Regency Refuge 2) (3 page)

The soup, now cold, had lost its appeal. Mrs. Pembroke and the groomsman-doubling-as-a-footman cleared the table. Rupert turned to Juliana. "You sent inquiries out to find me?"

She nodded. "Of course. Uncle Fitz always spoke highly of you. We'd never met you, but we assumed you would want to know, so we tried to locate you."

"How did you attempt that?"

Confusion clouding her normally confident expression, she answered. "We ran advertisements in some different papers. I went through Uncle's desk, too, hoping to locate your direction, but none was to be found. We tried, honest. I'm sorry we couldn't discover your whereabouts in time for the funeral."

Rupert forced a relaxed smile. "It's fine. If I'd had any inclination Fitz was nearing the end of his life, perhaps I'd have handled matters a bit differently."

As the main dish was placed before them, Eudora poked at her food. "What's this?"

"Neat's Tongue," answered Mrs. Pembroke before stepping out of the room.

"Tongue?" Eleanor paled.

An unladylike
click-click-click
came from Mrs. Burnham before she picked up her knife and fork and began cutting into the meat on her plate.

With a brief shake of his head, Rupert said, "Never fear, ladies. It's not actually tongue."

Juliana, her eyes never leaving him, picked up her utensils. "Come now, girls, we mustn't be rude."

Despite his resolve to remain distant, Rupert enjoyed Juliana's pained expression as she cut a small piece and placed it in her mouth. It was a deceptively simple thing, deciding to taste a bite of something one dreaded. He, however, saw beyond that. She was a woman who would take on anything she'd rather avoid if it were for the wellbeing of her sisters. To an uninterested observer, her action might be nothing more than taking a tentative bite of a strange dish. To him, it was the proclamation of her bravery and courage. There was much more to this jewel at his table than she wanted people to see.

Rupert swallowed down the pleasure he felt as the look on her face morphed into one of enjoyment.

"Oh girls, you have to try it. It's delightful."

For a moment Rupert allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to live a day in the life he'd been born to rather than the one into which he'd been forced. How would it feel to sit in a drawing room and make small talk again? To listen to Juliana play the pianoforte? A sigh escaped him as he contemplated all the could-have-beens.

The sigh must have been more audible than he'd intended, for Juliana's eyes lifted to his, an unvoiced question brightening their grey depths until they reminded him of the London sky as the sun peeks out from behind the clouds.

It had been some years since he'd received the order to go into hiding. Surely the risk was buried in the past, forgotten in the concealing mist of so many English mornings. Perhaps the day had come to consider stepping back into life. Of course it had.

After all, these women needed him, and Rupert had never been one to abandon a damsel during her time of greatest distress.

Chapter Four

Thankful that dinner was over, Rupert secluded himself in the study where he attempted to pen a missive to Thomas, Duke of Stafford, who was both his employer and friend. Thomas owned Castle Felton and needed to be apprised of his steward's changing circumstances. After dismissing another attempt at framing his words, Rupert ran his fingers through his hair and sat back in his chair.

He hadn't yet written anything down, or he'd be adding fuel to the already blazing fire. No, what he needed to say should be well thought-out before being committed to paper. Struggling with the proper words to use wasn't normally an affliction for Rupert. His time in the secluded north seemed to have stolen his ability to communicate. Either that, or it was genuinely impossible to put voice to all the thoughts chasing each other around inside his head.

Deciding to keep it simple, Rupert picked up the quill.

Thomas Stanbury, Duke of Sheffield,

A distant relative has died. I've inherited an earldom, three female cousins, and an ancient nursemaid/chaperone. The solicitor evicted them from their guardian's home, saying all must be sold. We are leaving Castle Felton within a fortnight. I need to find a resolution that will not leave these women destitute in my care.

I shall do my best to keep you informed.

Yours truly,

Rupert

Satisfied, Rupert placed the note into an envelope and sealed it with wax. Then he lifted the quill from its resting place and began writing the next message to be sent.

T,

Your assistance is required. Please look into the death of Fitzwilliam Nevill, Earl of Mendax, as well as that of his son, William — posthaste. I inherited the earldom, and the women in the earl's care with it. They tell me they are destitute, that the estate's coffers were emptied to pay off debts William accrued. I question the solicitor's handling of matters.

Two distant relatives who stood between me and the notice of the ton both died suddenly. Perhaps I am overreacting, but I suspect a scheme is afoot. Please see to the investigation.

I will be leaving Northumberland for London soon and shall contact you upon my arrival. I ask you to treat this matter with urgency.

Yours,

J.

Once both missives were ready for the following day's post, Rupert poured himself a snifter of Mrs. Pembroke's ginger tonic. He sat before the fire and contemplated the flames. His quiet, orderly life was about to change. Lifting his glass to the fireplace, he toasted the death of Douglas Rupert and the resurrection of Rupert Birmingham.

Chapter Five

Mrs. Burnham remained abed, but all three sisters joined Rupert to break their fast the next morning. Wishing to understand his new guests a bit better, Rupert sought to gather intelligence about the family dynamic. "So tell me, what sort of man was Uncle Fitz? It's been several years since I last saw him."

Eudora, the only one without food in her mouth, took the lead in answering. "Uncle Fitz was the best guardian we could have hoped for. I was five when he opened his home to us. He doted on us and was ever so kind and patient. Where another man in his place might have shunned us as an obligation and ignored us in favor of his own son who would one day inherit his title, Uncle Fitz didn't."

"He taught us to ride horses and climb trees," Eleanor declared. "We weren't forced to spend our days with a governess. Instead, we got to sit in with William and his tutors. I don't know what happened at the end…" Her voice trailed off, and Rupert's curiosity was piqued.

Juliana stepped into the conversation. "Uncle Fitz was passionate about Chakal Manor, and he taught William from a young age how to care for the estate. I still have a terrible time believing William would have ever squandered so much money. He'd been trained his whole life to value and protect the land and its people. It was his birthright."

Returning his attention to Eleanor, Rupert asked, "Was Fitz at all ill before his death?"

The three women exchanged furtive glances before Juliana broke the silence. "He had become more emotional than usual. It wasn't unbearable, mind you – simply out of character for our dear uncle." Changing the subject, Juliana asked, "How is it that you call him Uncle Fitz, too? We were lead to believe you were cousins."

Rupert nodded, none of his grief showing on his face. "Distant cousins, but Fitz was quite a bit older than me. I spent time with him every so often while growing up. I don't know – I just always called him Uncle Fitz."

Now it was Rupert's turn to change the subject. "Once the solicitor located me, why didn't you send a missive?" His voice conciliatory, Rupert added, "The trek all the way to Northumberland had to be taxing."

"I've always wanted to visit Northumberland." Juliana sounded overly bright. "It's such a wild and beautiful land, and your castle here is quite captivating."

"You forget it's not my castle."

Her face dimmed.

Wishing he'd kept the words to himself, he spoke again. "Nevertheless, I'm certain the duke will have no problem with the Clairmont sisters and their sprightly chaperone breathing some life into Felton Castle while we get a few of these details sorted out."

"You mean we can stay?" Spoken with a barely concealed squeal of delight, this question came from Eleanor.

Turning his attention to her, Rupert offered a small smile and nod.

****

Juliana's breath caught in her throat. It wasn't much of a smile, but even so, it transformed the normally blank canvas of Rupert's face into a stunning landscape of peaks and valleys capturing the glow of a warm summer sun. She tried not to stare, but it was hard. He had thus far conveyed the impression of being severe and rather grim. In that tiny moment, though, she saw the hint of what he would look like if he were to wholly give himself over to a smile, eyes lit with the joy of it from within. The sight left her shaken. If she didn't know better, she might begin to believe Rupert's stolidity masked deep passion.

In truth, she didn't know better, but she hoped…

Fanning herself, Juliana said, "My, it seems terribly warm in here. Perhaps a morning walk around the grounds would be just the way to start the day? Do either of you care to accompany me?" She directed the question to Eudora and Eleanor, of course. Nonetheless, she couldn't help but watch Rupert out of the corner of her eye, wondering if he agreed that a walk sounded splendid. He continued studiously eating his toast, and she pushed her chair back from the table and stood.

"Give me a second, Jule, and I'll come with you." Eleanor's youthful nickname for her reminded Juliana of her greater purpose here.

She wheeled to face Rupert. "Will it be within your means to provide a season for my sisters? They quite deserve to find decent matches, and I don't know how else to provide it should you decline to assist us."

"I have some business in town this morning." Rupert's voice was kind, and Juliana wondered how she'd missed that about him before. Perhaps the small smile she'd seen earlier had thawed more than his facial muscles. "Seek me out in the study sometime after I return, and we can discuss what needs to happen in order to see to the care of you and your sisters."

Juliana gave him a quick nod. She couldn't help the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "And don't forget our sprightly chaperone."

While she garnered no smile such as he'd bestowed upon her youngest sister, Juliana saw his eyes change. Their rain-soaked slate disappeared, replaced with spiced cider, rich with cinnamon and warmed by the fire. Forcing herself to break the spell those eyes cast on her, Juliana spun and exited the room.

****

Once Eleanor left to accompany Juliana on her walk, Rupert took the opportunity to get to know Eudora, the middle sister, better. "How long have you worn spectacles?"

She pushed the weighty aids up on her nose. "For as long as I can remember."

"Have you ever been without them?"

A pained look crossed the girl's face. "I lost them after Mama and Papa died."

Sympathy tugged at him. "That must have been difficult."

"It was horrible. Our lives were turned upside down, and we were sent to a new place with strange people, and I couldn't see any of them. I was constantly tripping, bumping into furniture, and knocking things over. I thought for certain they would throw us out, and it would all be my fault."

"Did Fitz ever give you reason to think that?"

Eudora took a drink of her chocolate and shook her head. "No, but I was five, and the world can be a frightful place to a young child who's newly lost her parents. I worried Juliana would to leave us, too. She was supposed to go to London for her season, and… Well, I'm quite good at worrying, and not being able to see made it that much worse."

Rupert nodded his understanding. "How long did it take for you to get new spectacles?"

She grimaced. "Forever, because I was afraid to say anything. What if the Nevills thought I was careless and kicked us out? I had a tendency toward hysteria, too. The doctor wanted to give me laudanum, but Juliana refused, and Uncle Fitz took her side. That's the exact moment I started to think he might not be so scary. In my mind, he was a huge terrible monster of a man."

"Because you couldn't see him…"

Eudora nodded. "After the doctor left after one particularly bad episode, Uncle Fitz sat down on the edge of my bed and took my hand in his. He said it was okay to be afraid, but he didn't want me to have cause to fear him. Then he asked me how I thought he looked." A smile curved her mouth. "I don't remember exactly what I said, but it made him chuckle. Uncle Fitz took my hand and put it on his face and told me I could feel his nose to make sure it wasn't long and hooked, and I could feel his ears to make sure they weren't covered with spikes."

Her words came to a stop and sadness wrapped around her, a shroud of grief. "You get the idea. Uncle Fitz knew I'd had spectacles before, but he'd not realized until then how little I could see without them. He sent to London for new ones, and he got me three pair. Even someone as young as I knew extravagance when I saw it… or didn't see it. One pair was for me. Another was for Juliana to keep in case I ever lost mine. The third went into a special case, which Uncle Fitz then hid it in a secret compartment in his office. He made me remove my spectacles and practice getting into that compartment until I could do it blind without any help."

"Why hide them?" Rupert knew more of Uncle Fitz than he'd led his cousins to believe. Fitz had publicly lived a colorful life with a flair for the dramatic, but in private he was shrewd in his dealings. He saw everything. So what had prompted him to believe hiding a pair of spectacles would help his young charge?

Eudora pushed her spectacles up on her nose. "He told me siblings can sometimes be mean to each other, and he didn't ever want me to be without my sight again. So if my sisters teased me or took my glasses from me out of meanness, or if I lost mine and couldn't find Juliana to get the ones she had, I would always know I had another pair hidden safely away in a place no one but us knew about. I never had to use them, but it somehow mattered to me that he cared enough to keep them there for me."