The Gypsy Legacy: Marquis Read online

  They talked through the afternoon, through a pleasant dinner and afterwards. As the steward consumed more wine and the after-dinner port, his tongue loosened. Jay was surprised to hear the dislike in the steward’s voice for his deceased stepmother and betrothed, but was not shocked at the escapades the steward revealed he and Aaron indulged in before Aaron’s untimely death.

  The next morning, Jay was up early. Having ascertained from Keyes that the steward was not an early riser, he decided his review of the estate ledgers could take place shortly before luncheon. After a substantial breakfast, he set out to survey the area, finding very little had changed in eighteen years. Many of the tenants remembered him, but he noticed they were not as warm as they had once been. He also noticed many cottages were in need of repairs. He would ask Milton if materials had been ordered yet to do so.

  As a child, he’d loved Thane Park and knew most of the families. Before his return, he’d convinced himself he no longer cared. Now, back for less than an entire day, and he was surprised to discover his affinity for the estate and its people had not changed.

  He stopped at the top of a small rise and surveyed the land. It meant more to him than he’d thought. But too much depended on Lady Christina. Suppose she refused to marry him? He frowned. He hadn’t asked Mr. Strate that question. It bothered him that he didn’t know whether she knew about the will’s provisions. If she knew, she might refuse to marry him to keep Thane Park and Collingswood for herself. If she didn’t, maybe she would prefer a season. It occurred to him that she might refuse to marry him because she hadn’t met any other eligible parties. He wondered what her feelings were in regards to the betrothal contract. Again, however, he questioned how he might find out.

  Lord Wynton had told him Felicia wanted a season. In regards to Tina, however, he had revealed nothing. Jay wished he’d asked outright whether Lord Wynton knew of the will. Then he might have asked if his sister knew as well.

  He returned to the house shortly before luncheon and inquired about Mr. Milton.

  “Mr. Milton apparently has left, my lord,” Keyes informed him.

  “Left? When?”

  “Quite early this morning.”

  “How?”

  “He took the carriage as far as the nearest posting inn, telling Jeb that he was going to visit relatives up north and didn’t want to take the carriage the whole way.”

  “And why wasn’t I informed of that this morning?”

  “I was not aware of it until Jeb returned, my lord,” Keyes responded. “By then you had left.”

  Jay turned toward the library. “Damn!” he swore under his breath. He wondered if he’d underestimated Milton. Despite his obvious dislike for the other members of Jay’s family, Milton had spoken of Aaron as a close friend and seemed knowledgeable about the estate. Mr. Strate had reported nothing untoward about Milton’s administration of the estate, so Jay hadn’t taken the accusations he’d overheard his sister throw at the steward seriously. And although Milton seemed nervous, Jay had attributed it to the run-in with his sister he had witnessed. He wondered now how badly he’d been duped.

  Entering the library, he was not surprised to find the desk uncluttered by ledgers. He wondered if Milton had left them at all. A search of Milton’s former rooms did not turn them up, but he did notice a large amount of ashes in the fireplace, causing him to wonder if they’d been burned.

  Returning to the library, he settled down to a light luncheon on a tray and to think. What had he learned so far? Milton despised Lady Christina and his sister. He’d been Aaron’s friend, but hadn’t been welcomed by the previous marchioness. His sister apparently had some information on him she felt could be used to force him from Thane Park, although she apparently had been sending that information to her other brother, Lord Wynton.

  He wondered about the comment he’d overheard concerning gypsies. Milton had accused his sister of being a “gypsy brat” and his sister had defended gypsies as being “honest folk”. He had nothing against gypsies—one had likely saved his life eighteen years ago and he’d made a promise in return he intended to fulfill if he could.

  A sudden impulse found Jay striding out of the library through the glass doors, heading for the stables. Minutes later, atop the same massive black stallion his sister had ridden the day before, he set off toward the dower house. He wasn’t sure what motivated him to do so, but he needed to question his sister concerning the scene he’d witnessed. Perhaps, it would clarify some things for him.

  He’d deliberately not visited the day before because he hadn’t wanted to meet Lady Christina yet, but now he had no choice. He’d wondered about her last night. What kind of woman was she to allow a young girl to fight her battles for her? The last thing he needed was a shrinking wallflower of a woman.

  The dower house came into view and Jay stopped for a moment to appraise it. Set amidst an unkempt lawn, it was still a beautiful structure. The warm brick had mellowed over the years—the same material used in the building of the main house, even though the dower house had not been built until almost one hundred years after the main house was finished. It was not hard, however, to note the signs of neglect it suffered.

  As a child he’d spent many days here with his grandmother. She had died when he was eleven, but his memories of her lingered. Back then, the house and grounds were spotlessly kept. Now all of the rooms on the third floor were shuttered and many on the second floor were the same.

  As he approached the door he noted the cracks in the stairs, the driveway fighting a losing battle to weeds, and the bellpull for the door was no longer in place. Deciding against trying the front door, he led his mount around the side of the building toward the stables.

  Here he found more evidence of neglect and deterioration. It made no sense. He had read through all the documents Mr. Strate gave him and was amazed at the amounts his sister and betrothed had been left to live on. Had she been of a mind to, Lady Christina could have easily financed a season or two for herself and had more than enough left over to keep the house and grounds up. This place, however, was nearly falling into ruin.

  Leaving the stallion in the only stall that looked safe enough to house him, Jay walked toward the back of the house. The rose garden, his grandmother’s pride and joy, stood wildly overgrown, the roses competing with all manner of weeds for a chance at the early-afternoon sun. Hearing a noise, he turned and made his way to the low wall that separated the formal garden from the kitchen garden and there discovered a young woman working. She was humming to herself and did not hear him approach.

  On her knees and bent over at her task of digging around a plant, Jay could tell little about her except that she was a woman. The drab dress she wore had seen so many better days it was difficult to tell what its original color had been. Now, however, it was gray. The battered straw hat completely concealed her face and hair from all sides. The one item she wore that made him suspicious of her identity was gloves. In his mind, only a lady would protect her hands so.

  Humming to herself as she worked, Tina was unaware she was no longer alone. Giving the small plant one final pat, she reached for the watering pot beside her. It was then she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise and turning, found herself looking up into a pair of coal dark eyes. Scrambling quickly to her feet, she looked around to see if anyone else was near. Thankful for even the low wall standing between them, she gathered her courage as she took a step backward.

  “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

  The stranger sketched a graceful bow and answered in a carefully modulated voice, “Thanet, at your service, madam. And you are?”

  Tina stared unbelievingly. Thanet? The marquis? He couldn’t be. Aaron had been a tall, blond Adonis, but the man watching her from the other side of the wall was as dark and tanned as a gypsy. His hair was a light chestnut, the sun picking out the burnished highlights in it as he moved. Black eyes watched her from under dark, arched brows, and a straight, chiseled nose over a full
-lipped mouth completed the picture. There was nothing soft about this man. From the sharply angled planes of his face, to the broad shoulders tapering down to narrow hips, muscular thighs and impossibly long legs, all superbly encased in the latest fashion, he commanded attention.

  Remembering herself, she curtsied and responded. “Tina Kenton, my lord.”

  Looking back up, she caught the surprised expression that crossed his face before being schooled back into neutrality.

  “I apologize no one was present to greet you. I, er, we did not expect you and we rarely receive visitors.”

  Her stammered words seemed to bring him around.

  “No need to apologize,” he answered quickly. “I came on the spur of the moment. I thought to make the acquaintance of Lady Carolyn.”

  “Carolyn? Oh, you mean Felicia. I’m afraid it has been a long time since anyone has called her that. I’m not even sure she’ll answer to it.”

  She was disappointed, but she did not let it show. Of course he would seek out his sister first. She grimaced.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know where she is at the moment. She is rarely found where she ought to be. However, if you don’t mind waiting a few moments, I will ask Cook if she has seen her.”

  The marquis bowed again. “Shall I await you in the drawing room?”

  “Y-yes,” she stammered. “It is through the double doors directly behind you.” Then she turned away and headed for the kitchen door.

  Chapter Three

  Jay watched the graceful sway of her hips as she moved away, a thoughtful expression on his face. When she disappeared around the corner, he turned and approached the double doors. The air was suddenly warmer and he had the feeling the bright afternoon sun had little to do with the rise in temperature he felt.

  He hoped she hadn’t noticed his astonishment. He’d caught himself enough not to let his mouth fall open, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself from staring. Lady Christina Kenton was not what he had expected. Although he wasn’t exactly sure what he had expected, he knew she wasn’t it.

  Small and petite, with a waist he was sure he could span with his two hands, her eyes barely topped his shoulder. Her skin appeared smooth as cream with a delicate blush tinting her cheeks. A pert nose over a perfect rosebud mouth and eyes the color of a tropical lagoon surrounded by lush dark lashes nearly made him forget the reason he had come. Suddenly he wasn’t sure her grandmother hadn’t done him a favor by not bringing her out. She would have been married by the end of her first season and though he might not have been out a title, he would have been deprived of an inheritance he was beginning to consider rightfully his.

  Jay was standing in the drawing room, looking out over the overgrown garden when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned just in time to see the young woman from the clearing the day before hurry into the room. She stopped only a few feet away and stared openly at him through the bluest eyes he had ever seen.

  Today she was wearing an old frock of an indeterminate shade of blue, trimmed in white. Although he knew her age to be sixteen, she seemed younger. Perhaps it was because she was also very small or the innocent expression of wonder on her face—or perhaps it was just that the dress she was wearing looked like a young girl’s dress. But, whatever it was, it disguised her age well. Had he come upon her without knowing, he would have guessed her age at thirteen at the most.

  “Felicia, don’t stare.” Lady Christina entered the room on her heels. “His lordship will think you gauche.”

  Felicia ignored her and continued to stare, finally remarking, “He doesn’t look at all like Aaron. Are you sure he’s my brother?”

  This statement surprised them both and Tina glanced at him again before answering. “Since I have never met him, I wouldn’t know if he’s telling me the truth or not, but you’ve seen the picture in the gallery as well as I. I also suspect you’ve seen it more recently than I. What do you think?”

  Felicia turned and walked back to her sister. “Well, he does look a little like the picture. But, his hair is darker. I don’t know.”

  Jay nearly groaned aloud. He knew what picture they were discussing. It was one he’d always hated because the painter made a special effort to make him and Aaron look alike.

  Leaning back against the doorframe, he watched them as they discussed him. They were undoubtedly sisters, both being possessed of the same fine bone structure, straight nose, delicately arched brows, and slightly tilted eyes. Felicia had a smattering of freckles across her nose, but that was the only flaw in two otherwise perfectly smooth complexions. Now that she was inside, Lady Christina had removed her bonnet and he noted her hair was the same raven-wing black as Felicia’s. He wondered if it was as long and thick.

  Deciding enough was enough, he cleared his throat. Perhaps it was time to take control of the situation.

  “May I suggest that we are at an impasse?”

  Tina looked up. “An impasse?” she asked. “How so?”

  “Because I can neither confirm nor deny your identities either. If you do not wish to accept I am who I say I am, then I must believe you have some motive for not doing so. That being the case, I must conclude you may not be who you say you are.”

  “But everyone knows who we are!” Felicia exclaimed in wide-eyed disbelief.

  “Such as…?”

  “The cook, the grooms,” she began.

  “Servants,” he replied smoothly, suppressing the grin that threatened to appear. “Of course they will vouch for you. Their livelihood may depend on it. Just as those same servants will vouch for me, despite my lengthy absence.”

  “What about the tenants?”

  “They, too, have an interest.”

  They were all silent for a time before he noticed Felicia’s eyes darken angrily and she said tightly, “You can always ask that toad, Mr. Milton.”

  “Felicia!” Tina gasped.

  “Of course, he’d deny us out of spite…” she began, but was interrupted by Jay.

  “Actually, that was exactly what I came to speak to you about. It seems Mr. Milton felt the need to leave the Park at quite an early hour this morning. In doing so, he neglected to leave me the location of the estate ledgers or any other financial records. I thought you might be able to enlighten me.”

  The silence following his announcement seemed to stretch on for minutes. Finally, Felicia let out a whoop of joy and embraced her sister. “I did it! I finally got rid of him! Oh, Tina, now we don’t have to leave.”

  Tina did not seem to share her enthusiasm. Disengaging herself, she bent narrowed eyes on her sister and demanded, “And just what did you do to him this time?”

  Jay watched in fascination as Felicia turned mulish, crossing her arms over her chest and staring defiantly back before answering. “I threatened to shoot him.”

  Tina’s eyes grew wide. “You what?”

  “You heard me. And it was a threat I was prepared to carry out.”

  “Felicia!” Tina was obviously shocked. “You should know better than to annoy him. Do you remember what happened the last time? How could you?”

  “Of course I remember. But, you heard him,” she indicated Jay with her hand, “this time he’s gone.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Didn’t you hear Jay?” Felicia turned large blue eyes on him. “May I call you Jay? Papa always did when he spoke of you.”

  Surprised, he replied without thinking. “Of course.”

  “Felicia, you don’t understand—” Tina began.

  “I understand more than you think.” Felicia’s agitation was obvious. “It’s you who has no idea what you’re talking about. Mr. Milton was nothing more than a liar and a thief—and a coward, too.”

  Tina must have noticed it too. “Calm down, Felicia. It’s fine. We’ll discuss this—”

  “Oh, I give up!” Exasperated, Felicia turned to him. “Maybe you can explain it to her.” And with that she turned and stalked out of the room.

  Tina watche
d her go, shock written all over her features, before turning to Jay, worry clear in her aquamarine eyes. “I’m sorry. She has blamed Mr. Milton for so much lately, I don’t think she can think about him rationally.” He watched small, white teeth worry her bottom lip as she glanced back and forth between him and the door.

  “Perhaps she has reason,” he answered, remembering the tenants’ reactions to him earlier.

  He also noted the shabbiness of the dower house now that he was inside. While clean and tidy, it nevertheless needed some refurbishing. There were no knick-knacks on tables or the mantle and the color of the drapes and carpet in this particular room were so faded as to be almost unrecognizable, although he knew once they had been a nice shade of blue.

  Why had no repairs or redecorating been done? She surely wasn’t spending her allowance on herself, he thought, noting she was wearing the same drab colored dress she had been gardening in. Nor was she spending it on her sister. The dress Felicia had been wearing was at least a size or more too small. And he knew the earl had been sending his sisters part of his quarterly allowance to help make ends meet.

  He looked at Tina, realizing she had been watching him as he studied the room. Casting about for a suitable topic of conversation, he said, “I spoke with your brother before I left London.”

  Tina glanced one last time at the door then moved further into the room. “I’m sorry about Felicia’s outburst, but that’s no reason to have misplaced my manners. Please, have a seat. Would you like some refreshment? I’m afraid we only have tea.”

  Jay crossed the room to the two chairs placed before the fireplace. Declining the offer of refreshment, he watched her sink gracefully into one of the chairs.

  “I haven’t heard from Jon in at least a fortnight. How is he doing?”

  “He is preparing to take over the reins of his inheritance. He assured me you and your sister would not be adverse to joining him either at Kent House in London or at Wynton Abbey.”