Not Always a Saint

Book 7: Lost Lords

by Mary Jo Putney

Genres: Literary Fiction; Contemporary Romance; Historical Romance

Synopsis

After the death of his sweetheart when he was at university, Daniel Herbert buried his grief in medical studies and his passion for healing. Viewed as a saint by those who know him, in his own mind he never quite manages to live up to his own high standards. Most men would be thrilled to learn they've inherited a title and estate from a distant relative, but Daniel is appalled because the burden of wealth will interfere with his medical calling. Warily he accepts that he must enter society and seek a wife—a sensible woman who can oversee his properties, leaving him free to continue his work. He does not expect to become intoxicated by a woman called the Black Widow, who is as mysterious as she is shockingly beautiful Jessie Kelham's looks have always been a curse. Now alone with a young daughter and a perilous secret, she is in need of protection. But dangerously attractive Daniel Herbert is not the kind of husband she has in mind. If he recognizes her, the demons of her past will surely erupt. Yet they cannot keep apart—and soon they are drawn into a union that may bring joy—or shattering danger.

Release date: August 25, 2015

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 352

Sample

Bristol, Autumn 1813

After burying his parents, Daniel Herbert returned to work, which had always been his passion and salvation. No matter how unquiet his own mind, his medical skills helped heal ailing bodies, and the occasional sermons he gave in the chapel he sponsored sometimes helped heal wounded souls.

To ensure that he was as busy as he needed to be, Daniel sent his junior doctor, Colin Holt, off on holiday with his new bride. Dispensing cough syrups and willow bark tea, and performing minor surgeries left Daniel tired enough to sleep. Exhaustion was preferable to thought. A fortnight had passed since the funerals and soon he must face the changes caused by their deaths; but for now, he preferred stitching up knife wounds in bawdy old sailors.

He was just finishing with a patient when Betsy Rivers, the infirmary manager, knocked and entered his treatment room. “Dr. Herbert, a gentleman is here to see you on what he says is important business.”

“I doubt that his idea of important is the same as mine,” Daniel said dryly. “But Red Rab here is just leaving, so send in the gentleman.”

Betsy frowned at his blood-spattered apron but didn’t try to talk him into changing out of his work clothing. “Yes, sir.”

As Betsy left, Daniel tied the last suture on his grizzled patient. “Careful, Rab. One of these days someone might accidentally stab something vital.”

“Naw, Doc,” Red Rab chuckled as he stood. “We been fightin’ each other so long, we know where it’s safe to stick the blades.” The sailor ambled out and Daniel began cleaning up the bloodstained rags and instruments.

Betsy returned, accompanied by a stocky, soberly dressed fellow with a keen gaze and a folio under his arm. “This is Mr. Hyatt, sir.”

The visitor blinked at Daniel’s rough and ready attire, then inclined his head courteously. “I’m Matthew Hyatt of the London law firm Hyatt and Sons. You are Daniel Herbert of Belmond Manor?”

Though Daniel hadn’t lived there in years, the manor was definitely now his. “I am.” He dropped his used surgical instruments into the waiting basin of soapy water.

“My sympathies on the loss of your parents, Mr. Herbert.” The lawyer sighed. “The disease outbreak at Castle Romayne was a great tragedy.”

“It struck with terrifying swiftness. Far too many of the people in the abbey and town died,” Daniel said, his mouth tightening at the memory. His parents had been delighted to receive an invitation to a grand house party held by his father’s distant cousin, Lord Romayne. They’d urged him to come, too, but he had no interest in such things. If he’d been there, might he have been able to suggest effective treatment in time? Drinking massive amounts of fluids could help dangerous fevers. Or would he have died as well?

He washed his hands briskly. “I have patients waiting, so perhaps you can tell me your reason for being here?”

The lawyer blinked at his bluntness. “Very well. It’s my pleasure to inform you that you are heir to the honors and property of the Romayne barony.”

Lord Romayne’s other heirs had all died in that beastly outbreak of disease? Daniel froze, feeling the impact of the words like a fatal blow. The walls he’d built around his pain and guilt shattered and raw emotion scorched through him.

His life was over.

When James, Lord Kirkland, entered Daniel’s office late the next day, Daniel was unsurprised. Kirkland was a shipping merchant and spymaster, as well as Daniel’s brother-in-law and sometime friend. With his information sources, Kirkland usually knew what was happening before it actually happened. This evening he looked like a darkly elegant predator, but his eyes were compassionate.

Though Daniel had managed to paper over the internal cracks caused by having a barony fall in his lap, he was embarrassingly relieved to see Kirkland, who was also a master at fixing problems. Pushing aside his late, cold supper, Daniel offered his hand. “I assume you’ve heard the news? Because if Laurel was unwell, you’d be with her.”

Kirkland smiled as he shook hands. “Laurel is at the stage of pregnancy where she has a terrifying amount of energy. I barely restrained her from coming with me.”

Daniel’s brows arched. “I assume she sent you to ensure that I don’t put a period to my existence.”

“Exactly,” Kirkland said with dry amusement. “Inheriting wealth, influence, and a seat in the House of Lords is enough to drive any man to despair.”

Daniel smiled reluctantly at how well Laurel and Kirkland knew him. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and retrieved the flask of brandy he kept for unusually trying days. “I’m still reeling at the news. I’m only a third cousin once removed. But there were only a few intervening heirs, and all died at that damnable house party.”

“A tragedy.” Kirkland accepted the glass of brandy Daniel poured, then settled into the only other chair in the small office. “Not least for you.”

Daniel sighed. “There’s no way I can refuse the inheritance, is there?”

“Unfortunately not,” Kirkland said. “The noble title and entailed property go to the nearest male heir of the Herbert bloodline, and that’s you. You are now responsible for the estates and all the tenants who depend on them.”

“I feel as if Atlas just dropped the world on my shoulders. You were raised knowing you were the Kirkland heir, but I barely knew Romayne existed, much less that I had any chance of inheriting.” His father would have known, and would have been delighted if the inheritance had fallen to him.

Kirkland swirled the brandy in his glass thoughtfully. “A change of this magnitude is intimidating, but being a lord is well within your capabilities.”

“No doubt.” Daniel’s face tightened at the thought of his greatest fear. Realizing Kirkland would understand, he added tersely, “But can I still be a doctor?”

“You will have more demands on your time,” Kirkland admitted. “But you can hire good people to manage the properties. You’re now a peer of the realm! Other lords spend large amounts of time collecting fossils or writing papers on mathematics or drinking themselves into a stupor. You can find time for your work.”

“I hope so.” Daniel tried to estimate how many hours would be consumed by managing people and property and his seat in Parliament. Too many. “I won’t be able to help as many as I do now.”

“I’ll say the same to you as I did to Laurel. Your new honors are a burden, but also an opportunity, and a fortune makes it possible to help a great many more people.” Kirkland smiled. “Your sister is spending my money with wild abandon as she helps open more women’s shelters like Zion House. You can establish more infirmaries. Sponsor the education of promising young surgeons and physicians.”

Oddly, Daniel hadn’t thought about those possibilities. “I like those ideas, but I already have the life I want. Inheriting Romayne is a burden and a complication.”

“Is it still the life you want?” Kirkland asked quietly. “Or is it time for a change?”

Daniel started to reply that of course his life was exactly right just as it was. Then he shut his mouth and reconsidered.

Damn Kirkland for being right! Here in Bristol, Daniel had valuable work and daily challenges, but he’d been lonely since his sister had reconciled with Kirkland and moved away. He needed more friends and different challenges.

“Perhaps it is time,” he said slowly. “I’ve been in shock ever since the lawyer delivered the dread news. I need to think about what I want, and what is now possible.”

“Come to London and stay with us,” Kirkland suggested. “Laurel and I would love having you, and I can help you sort the practical and legal issues of your new position. You also need to be introduced to society. The little season will start soon, and the network of Westerfield Academy old boys will help you establish yourself to whatever extent you want.”

Daniel’s tension eased. London seemed more manageable if he stayed with Laurel and Kirkland. “I’d enjoy seeing old schoolmates, but I have my doubts about entering grand society.”

“Wise of you to be wary,” his friend said, amused. “Particularly in light of the dangers you’ll face.”

“I won’t succumb to the lures of gambling and drink.” Daniel regarded his empty glass, then poured himself more brandy. “Though you wouldn’t know it to see me today.”

“Difficult times call for stern measures.” Kirkland held out his own glass for a refill. “But the danger I was referring to is the marriage mart. You are now the most desirable of commodities, a handsome, or at least presentable, peer in want of a wife.” He grinned. “Perhaps you can find a pleasant, steady young widow who wants to manage your estates and leave you free to be a doctor.”

Daniel found himself unexpectedly stirred by the idea of a wife. How many years had it been since Rose died? Too achingly many. She was a creature of sunshine and bubbling life, and she would never have wanted him to turn into the dour old bachelor he was now. If he was going to change, it was now or never.

He raised his glass in a mock salute. “Very well, then. I shall go to London and look for a wife.”

“Lord Kelham won’t be with us much longer,” the physician said quietly as Jessie Kelham returned to the sickroom carrying her sleepy four-year-old daughter.

She nodded acknowledgment. Philip had been failing for weeks, and it was clear the end was nigh. It was almost midnight, and she guessed he’d be gone by the dawn.

Beth yawned sleepily. “Is Papa better?”

Jessie stroked her daughter’s soft toffee-colored hair. Though it was many shades lighter than her own dark tresses, anyone who saw the two together knew them for mother and daughter. Beth, the most precious being in Jessie’s life. “No, sweetheart. Soon he’ll be gone, but he wants to say good-bye to you first.”

She carried her daughter to the massive bed, where Philip’s frail figure lay peacefully in the soft lamplight. With his white hair and pale face, he almost disappeared against the crisp linen sheets. His manservant had made him presentable for this last meeting with Beth.

When they reached the bed, for a moment Jessie feared they were too late, but when she set her daughter on the mattress, Philip’s eyes flickered open and he smiled with grave sweetness. “My little sunshine. I’m sorry I won’t be here to see you all grown up, but I know you’ll be beautiful.”

Recognizing finality, Beth’s eyes filled with tears. She leaned forward and kissed his grizzled cheek. “I don’t want you to go, Papa,” she said sadly.

He patted her hand where it rested beside his. “I’ll never be very far away from you, sweetling. Just close your eyes and think of me and I’ll be there.”

“It would be better if I could hug you whenever I wanted!”

Philip smiled tiredly. “Indeed, but we can’t always have what we want. Be good and do as your mother says. We’ll meet again in heaven. A very long time from now, I hope.” His breathing was becoming increasingly labored, so Jessie signaled Beth’s nursemaid, who had followed them down from the nursery.

Lily lifted Beth with comforting arms. “Time for bed again, little finch. I’ll sing to you until you sleep.”

Beth went docilely, though her wistful gaze stayed on Philip as they left the room. Jessie was grateful that her daughter was old enough that she’d have some memories of how much her father had loved her.

When they were gone, Jessie perched on the edge of the bed and rested her hand on her husband’s. The bones of his fingers seemed fragile as twigs. “My turn now. Like Beth, I don’t want you to go.”

“My time has come.” He had a spate of coughs before continuing. “You and Beth gave me more years and more joy than I dreamed was possible after I lost Louise. I only wish she could have known you.”

“I wish I’d known her, but if she hadn’t died, we would never have met.” Jessie squeezed his hand gently. “Perhaps she sent me to keep you happy until the two of you could be together again.”

“What a splendid thought.” He drew another labored breath. “You don’t need to worry about your future, my dear. In fact, when the will is read, there will be a surprise for you and Beth.” His lips curved into an impish smile. He’d always loved giving Jessie and Beth surprises.

“You’ve been a surprise from the beginning,” she said with a nostalgic smile. “I couldn’t believe that a fine gentleman like you would marry a trumpery minor actress.”

He began coughing so hard that Jessie almost summoned the physician. When the coughing subsided, he whispered, “And I couldn’t believe that the most beautiful woman in England would marry me even for money and a title.”

“I didn’t marry you for your money, and certainly not for your title,” she said softly. “I married you for your kindness and wisdom.”

They shared an intimate smile. Genteel society had been scandalized by the unequal marriage, but it had brought happiness to them both. When Philip died, she would lose her dearest friend.

Voice faded to a thread, he whispered, “Will Frederick reach here in time?”

“The roads are in bad condition after all the rain, so it’s impossible to say,” she replied. She didn’t doubt that Frederick Kelham was on his way, but it would be for his inheritance, not because he loved his uncle. Frederick loved only himself.

As heir to the title and entailed property, Frederick had been waiting impatiently for his uncle’s death for years. He’d been very unhappy with Jessie’s pregnancy, and she’d prayed for a daughter who would not be an obstacle to Frederick’s ambitions. Beth’s birth had been a relief. Philip was delighted to have a little girl to dote on, and the tension eased.

She thought Philip had dozed off when he said in a surprisingly strong voice, “You must marry again, Jessie. You are too excellent a wife to waste in widowhood.”

Her lips twisted. Philip, bless him, overrated her charms and her wifeliness. But now was not the time to disagree. She merely said, “If I find a man as kind as you, I shall consider it. But you will be a very hard man to live up to, Philip.”

“You flatter me, wench,” he said with amusement, his voice fading. “I trust you to choose well no matter what path you take.” His faded blue eyes closed again and his labored breathing became slower and slower. The ticking of the mantel clock was unnaturally loud as it counted down the moments of his life.

She thought she heard him breathe, “Louise!” in a voice of soft wonder. Then he breathed no more.

She bent her head over their joined hands, silent tears flowing down her face. Philip Kelham had given her faith that men could be good. She didn’t expect to meet another like him.

But she didn’t want or need another man. As long as she had Beth and sufficient resources to support them both, it was enough.

After a long day of burying her husband and accepting condolences from neighbors who had mostly disapproved of her, Jessie would have been happy to postpone the reading of the will to the next day, but Frederick was eager for it to take place that very evening. He probably couldn’t wait to learn the size of his inheritance.

Despite what Philip had said about a surprise, Jessie expected the reading to be straightforward. Philip had discussed his plans with her before revising his will a few months earlier, and Kelham Hall, this ancient barony in Kent, was entailed to the next Lord Kelham. Frederick would also receive a substantial amount of Philip’s personal fortune, though he wouldn’t be happy to learn that most of the money was tied up in legal trusts that would make it impossible for him to squander it.

Though earlier Kelhams hadn’t achieved great fame, they’d traditionally used their resources wisely and cared well for their dependents. Jessie hoped Frederick wouldn’t ruin that record, but she had her doubts.

A similar sum of money was left in trust for Beth, along with Philip’s house in London. Jessie would receive a comfortable income for life even if she remarried, since Philip had said more than once that he hoped she would.

She would inherit outright a handsome house in Canterbury. The city had several good schools for girls, and it would be a fine place to raise Beth. They would have the London house for visits to town. Beth would be a considerable heiress, so it was important that she learn to move in good society when she was older.

Wearily Jessie entered the library for the reading. Additional chairs had been brought in because there were numerous beneficiaries. The library was a favorite place since she and Philip often sat there together in the evening, sharing the fire, reading, and talking. Toward the end, when his sight began to fail, she’d read aloud to him.

Tonight the library was crowded and stuffy. The lawyer, Mr. Marcus Harkin, gave her a warm smile when she took a seat in front of the desk where he’d laid out his papers. Harkin had always been kind to her, even when she’d been a scandalous bride. For Philip’s sake he’d given her the benefit of the doubt, and in time they’d become friends.

All the servants were present, the older ones sitting and younger ones standing in front of the walls of books. Even the newest servants received at least a modest sum, and the oldest were given annuities that would provide a comfortable old age.

The local vicar gave a sigh of relief at receiving a sum designated to repair the bell tower, then smiled fondly when he learned he would also receive the carved ivory chess set upon which he and Philip had spent many happy hours in mock combat. No surprises here. Jessie was the one who’d suggested adding the chess set to the bell tower money so that the vicar would have a personal memento from his longtime friend.

Jessie hadn’t had much sleep during the weeks of her husband’s last illness, so after an hour she was dozing in the warm, overcrowded library. She came awake when Mr. Harkin cleared his throat portentously. “Lastly, to my beloved daughter, Elizabeth, heir to the honors of the barony of Kelham, I bequeath—”

“What?” Eyes blazing, Frederick Kelham surged to his feet. “I am the heir to the barony! What damnable nonsense is this?”

Mr. Harkin looked over his reading glasses, his tone level but a spark of wicked amusement in his eyes. “It’s not nonsense, Mr. Kelham. Kelham is a most ancient barony of writ, created in Norman times. It can be passed through the female line.”

“That’s absurd!” Frederick sputtered. “All the heirs have been male!”

“Granted, it has been almost two centuries since the only direct heir was female, so the matter was largely forgotten,” the lawyer agreed. “But your uncle recently came across this fact in the estate records. He had me research the matter, and it’s quite true. Your young cousin, Elizabeth, is now Baroness Kelham in her own right.”

Jessie gasped. So this was the surprise Philip had promised! He would have been delighted to realize that his beloved only child would succeed him, but he hadn’t realized how badly Frederick would react.

“You!” Raging, Frederick swung around to face Jessie. “This is all your doing! You forged evidence so your brat will inherit and you can plunder the estate!”

Mr. Harkin said sternly, “You quite mistake the matter, Mr. Kelham! Lady Kelham had no knowledge of this until today, and the ‘evidence,’ as you call it, is ancient and beyond any possible doubt. I’ve already drafted a letter to the College of Arms to authenticate the fact that Beth has inherited the title and the entailed property.”

“So my uncle left me penniless,” Frederick said viciously.

“Not at all. Lord Kelham had a considerable personal fortune, and the amount left after the lesser bequests is to be divided between you and his daughter. You will have more than enough to live in ease and comfort.” The lawyer’s voice turned dry. “It isn’t as if you’ve shown any interest in running the estate.”

“I planned to hire a good steward,” Frederick snapped. “I should be Lord Kelham! My friends will laugh to hear I’ve been dispossessed by my uncle’s brat!”

“They’ll get over it,” Harkin said even more dryly. “Be grateful that your uncle was so fond of you. He could easily have left his entire fortune to his daughter.”

Frederick’s eyes narrowed in fury as he glared at Jessie. “The brat isn’t Uncle Philip’s child, but mine!”

Jessie felt the blood drain from her face. “How dare you say such a thing, Frederick!”

“The whole county knows how I brought you here to Kelham Hall as my mistress,” he sneered. “And they know how you seduced my uncle because no man can resist you. You thought you had the best of both worlds, didn’t you? The title and Uncle Philip’s money and me to roger you whenever I visited. He never suspected, did he? I should have told him so he could have you thrown out like the slut you are!”

Jessie rose, her fists clenched and her voice shaking. “You are disgusting! I never betrayed my vows!”

Frederick smirked. “No one will believe the word of a lying, conniving actress.”

Mr. Wicks, the butler, spoke up with cool dignity. “I keep a close eye on the comings and goings in this house. Her ladyship always shared his late lordship’s bed until his final illness, while Master Frederick, on his rare visits, almost always slipped out of the house late at night.”

One of the maids piped up helpfully, “He tups a cow maid in the village.”

Frederick’s face turned bright red as he teetered on the edge of explosion. Then his expression changed. “As Elizabeth’s closest male relative,” he spat out, “am I her legal guardian?”

Mr. Harkin frowned. “Her mother is, and I’m the chief financial trustee. You have no legal authority in respect to your cousin.”

Frederick smiled, malice in his eyes. “But I owe it to my uncle to see that my young cousin is raised properly as befits her new station in life. I’m sure that the courts will agree that the new Lady Kelham should be removed from her actress moth. . .