Page 19 of Entertaining the Earl (Vows in Vauxhall Gardens #2)

“I think I will return to Kent earlier than I planned,” Colin said, as he took tea with his aunt on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow. “I thought you intended to sort everything with the lawyers and accountants, and make sure your social standing was intact, before you returned to the countryside.”

He nodded. “I did. But I believe I have done all I can here—and the estate will still need to be dealt with, however long I put it off for.”

“You put it off for years while you were off gallivanting across the globe,” his aunt said with a sigh. “And if you go scurrying off to the countryside now, you’ll only cause gossip. Everyone is expecting a marriage proposal from you before the Season is out.”

Colin sipped his tea and did not comment.

Things had become rather awkward between him and Miss Lyttleton since the kiss—which had not been mentioned since.

He could only assume she was offended by his behavior, but it certainly made their arrangement less feasible, and less enjoyable.

She didn’t seem happy in his company, and he didn’t wish to force her to endure it.

“You know how quickly gossip moves on, Aunt. They may wonder why I’ve left, but a few days later it will be someone else’s name on their lips.”

His aunt huffed. “I suppose. And is everything sorted with the men you needed to meet with in London? The estate is secure?”

“It will be,” he said. “No thanks to my father…but I’m taking steps to ensure his choices will not affect the earls of the future.”

“Once you have everything in order, your priority must be to find a suitable wife, Colin. To make sure there is an heir ready to take your place, when the time should come.”

Colin sipped his tea to stop himself from sighing.

“Yes, Aunt.” He was well aware that he would need an heir—and he rather thought that was the reason his aunt had insisted he come back.

Not entirely because of worries about the estate, but because she wished to ensure he chose a proper English wife, and got to work producing an heir.

No one wanted a bastard child from the continent causing issues—but Colin was confident that would not be the case.

He had not lived like a monk, but he had been careful, not wanting to continue in his father’s footsteps.

When he did have children, they would be legitimate, and raised in a household where both mother and father were content.

He had vowed that to himself a long time ago.

“Don’t leave the Lyttleton girl heartbroken, will you. She may be plain, but she’s sweet, and she doesn’t deserve that.”

Colin found himself gritting his teeth at her being called “plain”, yet again. Why was everyone so quick to judge her? And why couldn’t they see what lay beneath her supposedly plain looks?

“There is no risk of me breaking her heart, Aunt, do not worry.”

*

Colin had taken to sitting in the library when he was spending time in the Lyttletons’ home. It was a warm, cozy place—and not just because of the fire. He felt at ease there, whether alone or with the other inhabitants of the house.

With one particular inhabitant of the house…but he knew he shouldn’t be thinking of her like that. Since she had not mentioned it, he was sure the right thing to do was to pretend it hadn’t happened and move on from the strange feelings he’d been having .

Well, they weren’t exactly strange—just unexpected.

Miss Lyttleton was the bookish, spinster daughter of his host—nothing more.

He had not anticipated feeling attracted to her, nor kissing her.

He had never before taken such liberties with a woman who ought to be considered marriageable, even if society was rather blind to her qualities.

A knock on the door broke his reverie, and Simpkins, the butler, entered the room.

“Excuse me, Lord Bourne. There is a Mr. Lenton to see you. He says he is your lawyer.”

Colin nodded. “Yes, he is. Would you show him in here, please?”

He did not like the fact that the lawyer was visiting him here. It suggested that something was wrong, for they had met at his office the previous time, and there had been no mention of a follow-up meeting.

“Indeed, my lord.” With a sharp bow, Simpkins left the room and soon returned, accompanied by the small lawyer.

Today he was wigless, his balding head sparsely covered by strands of graying hair.

Without the wig he looked older, less confident—although perhaps that was also due to the change in setting.

“Can I get you some tea?” the butler asked.

“Yes, please,” Colin said, glancing over at his lawyer, who was fiddling with his hands as though he were nervous. “And then, if you could see that we are not disturbed, I would much appreciate it.”

When the butler left, and Lenton was still standing, Colin gestured toward an empty seat by the fireplace. “Please, sit. What can I do for you?”

Mr. Lenton perched on the edge of the chair, looking like he might flee at any moment. His nervousness was not helping the unease that grew in Colin’s belly.

“I have been drawing up the paperwork as you requested, my lord,” Mr. Lenton began. “And as part of it, I sent my assistant to one of the homes in question—the one in which the female recipient of the gift had died, and only her children were in residence.”

“That was quick,” Colin commented, not sure what else to say.

“This particular house is not far outside of London, and I thought it prudent to thoroughly know the lay of the land before writing up the paperwork.”

“And? What did you discover?” Colin asked, feeling rather impatient to know what had brought the man here.

“Well,” the lawyer said, twisting his hands together and avoiding the earl’s gaze. “The eldest son living there, he is claiming… well, he—”

At that moment, a knock on the door announced the arrival of the tea, and the lawyer fell silent until the footman delivering it had closed the door again.

“Please, continue,” Colin said through gritted teeth when the little man did not immediately resume where he had left off.

“Yes, indeed. The man in question is claiming to be the illegitimate son of your father, the late earl.”

The words hung heavily in the air, though they were not the shock that the lawyer seemed to think they would be. After all, Colin was well aware that his father had had many, many affairs. It would surely be foolish to think none of them had resulted in a pregnancy.

“Did my father acknowledge him?”

The lawyer shook his head. “Not as far as I can tell. And of course, there is no way to know for sure…”

“No, there is not. We only have his word for it, with the other parties long gone.” Colin sighed.

This was yet another issue stemming from his father’s very messy life.

Children were born not knowing who their parents truly were, with nothing provided for them, as would have been if they were legitimate.

“Does it give him any more rights to the home than if he were not making such a claim?”

“No. Even if he could prove he was an illegitimate son, he would have no rights. Of course, he might decide to use such information, to spread it for his own gain, or to try to extort money from you…”

“My father’s sins are no secret. They are nothing to do with me, and if this man wishes to spread this information, I will not pay a penny to stop him.”

The lawyer nodded. “Yes, of course. I have worked on cases similar to this, where an amount of money has been settled upon the party claiming parentage, in order to leave such things in the past.”

“And what then is there to stop a hundred other such men or women from claiming the exact same thing? And taking as much money from the estate as possible? We both know—in fact, much of society knows—that my father had such relationships with many, many women. There is a large age range of children who could potentially be his, but whom he never claimed, and whom he never sought to provide for. I’m not sure that that should be my responsibility. ”

“Understood, my lord.”

“I do not wish to be cruel. I am happy for him to continue living there—but if his descendants wish to, they will need to pay an appropriate rent. I think that is fair.”

“Exceedingly so, my lord,” the lawyer said. “I will get this put in writing, and see that it is signed. I am sorry to have to burden you with such knowledge—”

“It is my father who has burdened me, and all those he took to his bed,” Colin said bitterly, the tear-stained face of his mother floating in his mind.

He had always wanted a brother, and she had always looked longingly at large families.

Had she known that the old earl potentially had other children? Did it add to the heartache?

And did this man, whoever he was, truly believe his father was the old earl? Or was he trying his luck?

Not for the first time, Colin cursed his father, and the mess he had left behind.