Page 7 of Beauty and the Rake (Endless Love #1)

G raham pulled the letter out of his coat and reread it.

The words on the page were the same as when he read it at Arthur’s.

The contents of the letter knocked him off his foundation.

This wasn’t something he could share with anyone, not until he had time to let it sink in and he was clear-headed to make decisions.

He had kept a mistress for the past two years.

He ended it and when he did, Frannie hadn’t taken it well.

Despite him having furnished her with a place to live and funds, she still refused to believe he would walk away.

That had been almost a year ago. After the initial shock, he never heard from her, leaving Graham to believe she had moved on and found someone else to support her.

Never in a thousand years would he have thought she’d give birth, let alone be with child without getting word to him. Perhaps the child wasn’t his or she wasn’t sure who the father was. He doubted the latter. Frannie was never kept by more than one man. Even if tempted.

She would have never left the child at his door in a basket. His valet had told him the infant couldn’t be but perhaps a day old if that. So Graham sent the man to Frannie’s house to check out how she was and what she was about.

The carriage slowed as the four-story, red brick home came into view. His grandfather had built the house after the original burned to the ground after a freak lightning strike. At the time it was built, it was one of the largest homes in Mayfair. Now it would be considered a smaller residence.

A footman opened the carriage door and Graham climbed out and headed up the front steps as fast as he could. The butler, Fredericks, opened the door just as his feet hit the last step.

“Where is the child?” he asked as he divested his hat and coat and handed them to Fredericks.

“In the kitchen. The ladies are getting her warmed up and fed.”

“So it’s a girl?”

“Yes, milord,” he said. “A very striking child for just being born. Most look like shriveled up prunes.”

“They’re certain the child has just been born?” Graham asked.

“Yes, quite certain.”

“Fetch the doctor just to be sure. I’m going to the kitchens.”

“Milord, I can have one of the ladies bring the babe to you. No need to go to the kitchens.”

Graham shook his head. “Nonsense. I don’t mind. Just see word is gotten to the doctor.”

“As you wish, milord.”

He rushed down the back stairs and through the kitchens where he found Cook and his housekeeper looking into a basket at what he presumed was the child.

As he approached, they moved away, giving him a chance to see for himself.

What he saw was a tiny, dark-haired infant sleeping.

A babe that favored his late sister Mary.

His sister had died of influenza as a child, but Graham always remembered her violet eyes and coal black hair.

“How is she?”

“Better now,” Cook said. “We changed her, and she drank some milk. What would you like us to do, milord?”

“The doctor has been sent for, so let’s wait and see what he says. The nursery needs to be made ready immediately. Until it is, please bring a cradle down from the nursery. Have it cleaned and put into the yellow guest room. She can stay there until the nursery is ready.”

Both women agreed, nodding their heads, looking between themselves.

He knew what was going through their minds.

There was no denying this child wasn’t his own.

And Cook, having been with the family since she was a young girl when her mother ran the kitchens, knew better than anyone.

She and Mary had been friends, even though his mother frowned on the idea at first. His mother quickly understood the friendship was good for Mary since she was schooled by tutors at home and had no other girlfriends.

He took one last look at the babe before backing away. “I’ll be in my study. Please send someone for me when the doctor arrives.”

“Yes, milord.”

He turned and made long strides out of the kitchens and up the stairs.

Minutes later, he was in his study, pouring himself a whiskey.

He deserved one considering what he had just discovered.

Frannie had been with child and never told him.

He would have to call on her. His man would be back from Frannie’s residence and would hopefully have some news.

Graham knew from laying eyes on the babe she was his.

There was no denying it. What was he supposed to do?

He wasn’t going to send her off. She was his flesh and blood.

Regardless of the fact he was a bachelor, he would see she was raised properly.

He could send her to one of his estates with a nanny, but that would never do.

They would never share a bond if he went that way.

There was no reason for decisions to be made until the doctor came.

He also intended to pay Frannie a visit and see what she was about.

His solicitors would draw up the papers so he would be recognized as the girl’s father.

Why Frannie didn’t want the babe was beyond his comprehension.

The only thing that came to mind was that the child reminded her too much of him.

That and Frannie had never voiced a desire to become a mother.

He took a long swallow of his whiskey and shut his eyes for a moment.

In the blink of an eye, his life had been forever changed.

Graham wondered what Roxanne would think about all of this.

Why she mattered in the scheme of things, he wasn’t sure.

The feelings he had for her were new to him and he didn’t want to ruin what little progress he’d made with her over this.

He would need to think things through and concoct some sort of story to tell.

The doctor arrived, and while he was examining the girl, Graham paced the floor outside the door of the bedchamber. It didn’t take long, but he felt every second he waited. The doctor emerged, holding his hat in one hand and his medical bag in the other.

“By my estimate the child can’t be but a few hours old. She appears in perfect health. You’ll need a wet nurse, of course. I’ll arrange one to stop by and introduce herself to you.”

“Not necessary. As long as my cook and housekeeper are comfortable with the woman, that is good enough for me.”

“Very well. Send for me should the need arise, but as I said, the babe is in perfect health.”

Graham knew the older man wanted to know more but wasn’t about to ask him. Smart man. It was no one’s business—at least for the immediate future.

“Thank you for your discretion,” Graham said. He followed the doctor to the stairs and walked behind him down to the front reception hall.

Donning his black hat, the man nodded and left. Turning around, Graham caught the outline of the young man he’d sent to Frannie’s. Perhaps he had some news.

“Did you see her?” Graham asked.

“No, milord. Her man said she had left two weeks ago, taking all her personal belongings. She told him she was going to her sister’s to give birth.

He had no further information about where her sister lived.

She had hired a carriage to take her to wherever she was going instead of using the one you furnished her. ”

“Very well. See if you can find out anything further. I would think someone would know something of her whereabouts.”

The man nodded. “I’ll get straight on it, milord.”

“Thank you.”

Graham had no knowledge of where any of Frannie’s family could be.

He knew her parents had died years ago, when she was just a child, but that was all.

No mention of siblings, cousins, or where she came from.

The only thing she did let slip once was that her father had been a sailor.

His attorney would have to investigate this further.

If necessary, he’d have the man hire someone to look into Frannie’s background and find her, because from where he stood, she did not wish to be found.

His mind was spinning now. He had a lot to have taken care of. He would retire to his study and write what correspondence needed to be sent. It was important to get in to see the attorney.

First, he needed to see his housekeeper or Cook. The babe was going to need clothing and whatever else someone so tiny required. He took to the steps two at a time and entered the yellow bedchamber where he found his housekeeper speaking with a young woman.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to let you know to purchase whatever is needed for the child.”

“Thank you, milord. This is Jane. She is going to be helping Cook and me out with the child until a nanny is hired.”

“She has experience with babies?”

“Yes, milord,” Jane said. “I’m the oldest of eight children. I always helped out with the younger ones, especially the babies so Ma could get things done.”

“I see. That will work until someone is found.”

“Was there anything else, milord?”

Graham shook his head. “No. I simply wanted to make sure you purchased whatever is needed.”

The babe was sleeping, but Graham could still see that shock of black hair in the cradle. He smiled and turned to leave for his study.

He sat down at his desk, took a sheet of fresh paper, and began writing, requesting to urgently see his lawyer.

Once he finished, he rang for the butler, requesting the missive be delivered immediately.

This was the most important thing to be done.

Being named the child’s guardian as soon as possible was important as it would allow him to raise the girl in the manner she should be.

He chuckled at the thought of some of the dowagers and other older ladies of the ton getting ahold of the news that he had an infant to raise.

One of dubious origins. It would be the center of gossip.

There was nothing stopping that. He never paid them any mind.

The whispering and looks at his next social engagement would prove quite interesting.

But they would move on quickly the moment something else captured their attention.

The ladies were like that. The babe would be old news, and they would move on to the next gossip.

The one they called the dragon lady would be the one who led the charge and would lead the ladies of the ton as to how to accept him now.

Which led him to his next dilemma—Roxanne and Arthur.

He needed to let them in on what transpired.

Neither needed to hear it through the gossips.

They needed to hear it directly from him.

His next letter was to Arthur. Without spilling exactly what was going on, he simply told his friend there was an urgent matter he needed to talk to him about and that Roxanne would need to be informed as well.

In person. A letter would simply never do.

He poured himself a whiskey and sat down in front of the hearth, where a fire had been set, to contemplate his life.

Since the day he was born, his life was one of privilege.

As the heir to his father’s title and all that entailed, Hawksbury found life wasn’t as easy as one might think for the heir of a great man.

His father, as was his father before him and his grandfather, all the way back to the first earl.

The men were cold, emotionless, and carried a temper few could match.

His father rarely showed interest in his heir, preferring to leave his upbringing and education to the earldom to others.

He spent little time with his son, and when he did, his father would often fly off into a rage if Graham missed a target or when hunting with his father and failed to kill prey.

His mother, on the other hand, was a loving, kind woman. One who deeply loved her two children. That changed when Mary died. His mother never recovered from her loss. Where she had once defended her son from his father’s tirades, she now spent most all her time locked away in her rooms, grieving.

His mother had been his heart, and he lost a huge piece of it the day she died.

Now he had been given a child, albeit a bastard, something that would follow her for her entire life unless he could invent her story.

First, she needed a name, one befitting a little angel.

Mary Charlotte, after his sister and mother.

He couldn’t think of a more fitting tribute.

The babe would also carry his surname in spite of the fact she would become his ward.

Perhaps that could change if he ever found a woman worthy of being the girl’s mother.