The Unknown Heir

‘Is that really all you ask, Miss Sheldon?’ Jared’s smile was challenging. ‘Don’t you really expect me to marry an heiress so that I can repair the damage caused by the fire last year?’

‘You know about that?’ Hester’s smooth brow furrowed. ‘Mr Birch has exceeded his duty.’

‘Mr Birch did not breathe a word other than as he was instructed,’ Jared said. ‘I have my own ways of finding out the truth, as someone else may discover to their peril before too long.’

Hester stared at him, feeling uneasy once more. This man ran very deep, she sensed it, sensed the underlying menace, the core of steel. She knew that there was much more to him than she had ever imagined—and she’d never dreamed he would have kissed her so wonderfully—but could she trust him?

Chapter Three

Hester said goodbye to Mr Clinton at the door of her godmother’s house. She had spent a very pleasant morning at the establishment of one of the finest gentlemen’s hat makers. The heir had purchased four hats: one for morning wear, one for afternoon wear, one for evening and one for riding. He had asked for the account to be sent to him at his hotel and she had no idea how much had been spent, though it must have cost him some guineas. It seemed that he was not destitute, as Mr Birch had assumed, though perhaps not as rich as they had once thought him.

He had been everything that was charming, showing himself to have perfect manners as he escorted her about the town, and Hester had been happy to introduce him to three ladies and two gentlemen who stopped to speak to them in the street. It had actually given her pleasure to introduce him as her grandfather’s heir, using the title he himself refused to accept.

‘People will be curious about you,’ she told him after they had made their purchases and were walking home. ‘I think you will find that you receive many invitations after Grandfather’s ball—if you stay for that, of course.’

‘You are fishing, Miss Sheldon,’ Jared told her, his expression somewhere between amusement and annoyance. ‘I shall stay for a few weeks, perhaps, longer than I had first thought—there, will that content you?’

‘Yes, for the moment,’ she said, crossing her fingers behind her back because she hoped that he could not read her mind. She knew how much the duke was hoping that he would make his home in England, and if there were some way to persuade him to stay, she would do her best to find it. She glanced in the window at some pretty bonnets as they passed a fashionable milliner’s shop, but said nothing, though one in particular had taken her eye. ‘When would it suit you to go down to the country, sir?’

‘In the morning, if that would not spoil your own plans, Miss Sheldon?’

‘My plans?’ Hester frowned. ‘I had planned to accompany you for reasons which I need not go into now—but you do not need my help, sir. I could stay here for a few days longer.’

‘You would oblige me by keeping me company,’ Jared told her. ‘I prefer not to travel alone just at the moment.’

‘You are not unwell, I hope?’

‘I am perfectly well, though someone did their best to alter that situation last night as I left a gambling club, to which I was introduced by my hotel manager.’

Hester stopped walking and stared at him. ‘Someone attacked you? Were you hurt? I do not understand—had you won a significant amount at the tables, enough to make it worthwhile robbing you?’

‘You assume that the motive was robbery? Yes, perhaps—it might have been, of course,’ he said.

‘But what else can it have been?’ Hester was puzzled. ‘It could not be anything else.’ Her expression was thoughtful. ‘I know there have been deaths in the family that would bear further investigation, but how could anyone know you were here? I do not think that anyone other than Mr Birch, my mother, Grandfather and I even knew you had arrived until this morning, when I introduced you to some of my acquaintances.’

‘Supposing someone did know,’ Jared said, his eyes intent on her face. Either she was genuinely shocked or she was a very good actress. ‘Do you think they may have wanted to kill me?’

‘But who?’ Hester shook her head. ‘Why should anyone wish to…You do not think that Mr Stephen Grant…? No, I cannot think it. He is a man of the cloth and above worldly concerns.’

‘He would inherit an estate and a title. Some people might think that worth committing murder for, might they not?’

‘Not Mr Grant,’ Hester replied in a tone of conviction. ‘Besides, how would he have known you were here in London? You have never seen or spoken to him in your life. Surely the attack on you was random?’

‘It may have been,’ Jared said, deciding that it was too soon to trust her with more details. ‘But you see why I would prefer not to travel alone just at the moment?’

‘Yes, I do see,’ she agreed. ‘My godmother will send me home in her carriage. I shall have my maid and the grooms—and of course you will be welcome to travel with me.’

‘I do not have any means of transport,’ Jared told her. ‘I could hire a horse, of course, but as I have no idea where to go…’

‘No, of course you don’t,’ Hester said. ‘What am I thinking of? Certainly I shall come with you. I thought you might have preferred to go alone, but I am happy to accompany you.’

It had been her plan in the first place, but Lady Ireland had begged her to stay longer, and it would have been pleasant, for with the heir staying at Shelbourne her grandfather would not need her as much. A visit to London was a rare treat for her, but in the circumstances she could do no other than agree—and perhaps it was for the best after all. She might find some means of persuading him to stay longer than he planned.

She took off her hat as she went into the hall, stopping to look through the pile of notes awaiting her and Lady Ireland. Picking them up, she took them through to the small salon at the rear of the house and gave them to her godmother. Lady Ireland glanced through them and then picked one out.

‘This is for you, dearest.’

‘Oh, I did not see it,’ Hester said. ‘It must have got caught in with yours. I think it is from Richard Knighton.’ She broke the wax seal and frowned. ‘Oh, this was written before I saw him last night. It must have been here when we returned last evening. It was just a note to say he looked forward to seeing us later.’ She frowned as she slipped it into a pocket. ‘Mr Clinton has asked me to go down with him to the country, ma’am. I had thought I might stay another day or two with you, but I cannot refuse.’

‘Well, I dare say he feels it will be more comfortable at the duke’s house with at least one person he knows,’ Lady Ireland said. ‘He may not be quite as awful as we feared, but I expect he does not go much into company—at least, not the kind your grandfather keeps.’

‘Perhaps,’ Hester said. Something was at the back of her mind, some small thing that she ought to remember, but she could not for the life of her recall what it was…

Hester was sitting in the parlour with her godmother when Mr Knighton was announced. He smiled as he entered, going first to Lady Ireland and kissing her hand. She invited him to sit on the chair next to her and kept him busy with questions about his family until the tea tray was brought in.

‘Your sister is well, Mr Knighton?’

‘Maria is recovering from the birth of her third son,’ he replied. ‘I believe she is well in herself, though perhaps a little tired.’

‘I should like to have seen her,’ Hester told him. ‘However, I leave town in the morning. Perhaps another time.’

‘Mrs Tremayne would love to see you,’ he assured her. ‘She begged me to ask you to dinner tomorrow evening. She will be sorry that you are leaving so soon.’

‘I fear I must,’ Hester said. ‘But I shall write to her in a few days, and perhaps we shall meet soon. She may wish to come to Grandfather’s ball.’

‘The duke plans a ball?’ Richard Knighton frowned. ‘I thought he was quite the recluse these days?’

‘He has not entertained much since Papa…’ Hester felt the familiar tightness in her chest, for she sincerely mourned her stepfather. ‘However, as I told you last evening, the American heir has come to visit. It is for his sake that the duke intends to entertain his friends with a ball.’

‘This American,’ Richard said, frowning, ‘what manner of a man is he?’

‘I would say perfectly respectable, if not quite a gentleman,’ Lady Ireland said before Hester could reply. ‘He looks the part and his manners are polite—but his speech leaves something to be desired.’ She glanced at Hester. ‘Would you not agree, dearest?’

Hester hesitated. She had invited her mother’s cousin to call with the intention of asking him to meet the heir and give her his opinion, but for some reason she was disinclined to speak freely.

‘He does have some unfortunate expressions,’ Hester said. ‘I think him a little…deceptive.’

‘You suspect that he is an impostor?’

‘No, that is not what I meant,’ Hester said thoughtfully. ‘It is just that I am not certain he is what he seems to be—though there is no doubt that he is Amelia’s son. There is a family resemblance, and his credentials have been checked. I believe Amelia wrote to her father several times after she was married.’

‘No doubt she hoped to be forgiven. I dare say her son is rather pleased with himself. He could not have expected to inherit both a title and a large estate.’

‘I am not sure that he wishes for either,’ Hester replied. She did not know why, but something in Richard’s tone displeased her. ‘After all, there is very little money.’

‘The house and land could be sold for a fair sum,’ Richard said. ‘The duke should be careful. He might do well to consult his lawyers, in order to be certain that the estate cannot simply be sold off after his death, and the money taken overseas.’

‘There is an entail,’ Hester said. ‘If it had been otherwise…but as long as there is a direct heir, it cannot be broken without a huge payment.’