Page 13 of Greystone’s Legacy (To All The Earls I’ve Loved Before #5)

Chapter Seven

Hester stood in the doorway of the sitting room, watching the reunion between grandfather and grandson with a curious mixture of joy and trepidation.

She had known Freddie was of noble birth, of course, but seeing him here, in these grand surroundings, brought home just how far above her station he truly was.

Freddie's grandfather was not what she had expected.

Despite his evident frailty, there was something compelling about his presence, a dignity that seemed to fill the elegant room.

His eyes, the same striking blue as Freddie's, were sharp and alert as he listened to his grandson's account of recent events, shaking his head in disgust. He said something quietly to Freddie that made Freddie startle back, eyes wide with horror, before they resumed their low-voiced conversation.

Eventually they seemed to come to some sort of agreement, and a brief silence fell.

"So this young lady and her family have been sheltering you?" the old man asked, his gaze shifting to where Hester stood. "Come closer, my dear. Let me look at you properly."

Hester approached with what she hoped was an appropriate curtsey, though she suspected her country manners might fall short of London standards. To her surprise, Freddie's grandfather smiled warmly at her.

"Miss Wynstanley has shown me great kindness, grandfather," Freddie said, his voice carrying a note of warmth that made Hester's heart flutter. "I owe her my life, in truth."

"Indeed? Tell me, Miss Wynstanley, what made you decide to help my grandson?"

"It seemed the right thing to do, Mr. Grey," Hester replied carefully. "He was in need, and we were in a position to offer assistance."

"Mr. Grey, is it?" The old man looked at Freddie, who blushed unaccountably.

"Yes, grandfather," Freddie said, a note of warning in his voice. "Mr. Grey."

"You helped him without knowing his full identity or circumstances?" Mr. Grey's eyes twinkled as he looked back at Hester. "That shows remarkable character, my dear. Remarkable indeed."

From below came the sound of her aunts' voices, still determinedly creating their diversion. Hester smiled despite herself, imagining their performance.

"Your aunts appear to be quite resourceful as well," Mr. Grey observed, amusement clear in his tone. "I haven't heard poor Winters so flustered in years. I should like to meet them, I believe, when circumstances allow."

"They can be quite persistent when they choose," Hester admitted, earning a chuckle from both men.

"A valuable trait in a family," Mr. Grey said, his expression growing more serious as he turned back to Freddie.

"Speaking of family, we must act quickly.

" He looked at Hester again, his expression warming.

"You know, my dear, you would make a fabulous countess.

Just the sort of practical, intelligent woman the family needs. "

Hester felt her cheeks grow warm, though confusion welled as his words sank in. Countess? What could he possibly mean?

"Grandfather," Freddie protested, though Hester noticed he wouldn't meet her eyes. "This is hardly the time."

"On the contrary, my boy, it's exactly the time.

When one finds a woman of such quality, one should not hesitate to secure her allegiance.

Particularly when she's already proved herself so capable in a crisis, and when one needs to secure the succession to the earldom.

I'm afraid Freddie hasn't been quite honest with you, my dear Miss Wynstanley.

I'm not Mr. Grey at all. I'm Lord Greystone, Earl of Greystone… and Freddie's my heir."

Hester staggered, her mind whirling. Freddie wasn't just well-born, he was the heir to an earldom . The magnitude of the difference in their stations struck her forcibly, making her previous concerns about their kiss seem almost laughably na?ve.

"We should go," she said quickly, hearing a change in the tenor of voices from below. "I believe the aunts' distraction may be wearing thin."

"Yes, of course," Freddie agreed, standing up and bending to embrace his grandfather one final time. "We'll find a way to stop Edmund, I promise."

"Be careful, both of you," Lord Greystone said. "Edmund is desperate, and desperate men are dangerous." He caught Hester's hand before she could withdraw. "Thank you, my dear, for protecting Freddie. Whatever happens, know that you have my gratitude and my blessing."

Hester managed another curtsey, her thoughts in turmoil as she followed Freddie from the room.

They made their way back down the servants' stairs in silence, both lost in their own contemplations.

She found herself studying his familiar profile in the dim light, wondering how she could have missed the signs of his exalted status.

Retreating back the way they had come, Hester went around to the front door to collect her aunts, who were still enthusiastically debating the possibility that they had somehow confused Greystone House with Lady Worthington's residence, though perhaps that had been twenty years ago, or possibly in Bath.

The butler just looked utterly relieved to have them out of the house as Hester sweetly apologised to him for the inconvenience.

Hester barely heard their chatter as they made their way back to their hackney where Freddie awaited them, her mind full of the Earl's words.

The man she had nursed back to health, the man she had come to know simply as Freddie, was the heir to an earldom, rightful successor to Greystone.

Aunt Cecilia and Aunt Felicity sat staring at them in the hackney as Freddie confessed the truth, their faces full of the same shock Hester was feeling.

"I cannot apologise enough for my deception," Freddie said, his aristocratic bearing more pronounced now that he no longer attempted to hide it. "When I first regained consciousness, I truly did not remember who I was. But as my memories returned, I should have told you immediately."

"Lord Frederick Grey," Aunt Felicity breathed. "To think we've had nobility under our roof all this time, Cecilia!"

"And we fed him nothing but shepherd's pie and Welsh rarebit," Aunt Cecilia fretted. "Oh dear, oh dear."

Hester's throat felt too tight to speak. She could barely look at Freddie. Everything about him seemed sharper now, more defined. The way he held himself, the careful precision of his speech. How had she not seen it before?

"Please," he said. "I beg you not to treat me any differently. Your kindness and care saved my life. I owe you more than I can ever repay."

His blue eyes met Hester's, and she saw genuine remorse there. Something else too, something that made her heart flutter traitorously in her chest despite her hurt at his deception.

"But why keep it secret once you remembered?" Aunt Cecilia demanded.

Freddie's expression darkened. "My uncle Edmund.

Grandfather and I believe he may have been behind my parents' fatal accident, and since then he has been trying to isolate Grandfather and have me declared mentally incompetent, so that he can take control of the earldom himself once my grandfather passes.

The accident that brought me to you was no accident at all.

I need to gather evidence, to ensure I can prove my sound mind and his treachery. "

Aunt Felicity gasped. "Your own uncle! How perfectly dreadful!"

"Indeed." Freddie's mouth set in a grim line.

"And now I must act quickly. My grandfather suggests I go to my mother's family, my grandmother Lady Burrowes.

She – and her son, Lord Burrowes, if he is in London – will help establish my sanity beyond question and assist me in exposing Edmund's schemes. "

"Your grandmother," Hester repeated faintly, looking out of the window at the passing London streets. The magnitude of the situation was beginning to sink in. This was not merely about Freddie's personal safety anymore. This was about titles and inheritance and the fate of an entire noble house.

"Miss Wynstanley." Freddie's voice was soft behind her. "Hester. I know this is a great deal to take in. If you prefer not to come..."

Their eyes met again, and Hester felt that same dangerous flutter in her chest. She looked away first.

"How long will it take to get there?" she asked.

"Not long," Freddie said, and then he added; "I truly am sorry. Not just for the deception, but for disrupting your lives this way."

Hester managed a small smile. "We've lived quietly for so long, perhaps a little disruption will do us good." She paused, then added, "My lord."

"Please don't," he said quickly. "Not you. I'm still just Freddie."

But he wasn't, Hester thought. He never would be "just Freddie" again. And she would do well to remember that.

The elegant townhouse in Berkeley Square made Plas Wyn look like a shepherd's cottage.

Hester tried not to stare as she followed Freddie up the steps, but everything from the gleaming brass knocker to the perfectly matched windowpanes spoke of wealth beyond her imagining.

Behind her, she could hear her aunts whispering in awe.

The door opened before Freddie could knock, revealing a butler whose dignity remained unruffled even as his eyes widened at the sight of the supposedly missing young master.

"Welcome, my lord," he said, bowing deeply. "Her ladyship is in the morning room."

They were led through a hallway lined with portraits, their boots silent on thick carpets. Hester felt acutely conscious of her travel-worn appearance, but there was no time to worry about it before they entered a sun-filled room where a tall, elegant woman rose from her chair with a cry of joy.

"Freddie!" Lady Burrowes swept forward, gathering her grandson into her arms. "My dearest boy, we thought we'd lost you!"