He and his brother came from hardy stock, bred in the harsh beauty of the Durham dales, tested in the dark depths of the northern coal mines. It took a lot to kill a Northmore.
“He didn’t die of an illness.” Ford inhaled a deep breath that seemed to suck all the air from the large room. “He was killed in a duel over a year ago. If it is any consolation, the end came quickly. His opponent was not so fortunate.”
“A duel! Who with? Over what?” Dueling was the folly of gentlemen who cherished their highborn honor. Hadrian had worked and planned to launch his brother into the highest tier of English society. But not for this.
Had the young fool forfeited his life over some stupid gambling debt or an insult spoken in the heat of drunken anger? Hadrian cursed himself for not taking the lad in hand sooner. But how could he? He’d been halfway around the world, making the fortune that would have put Julian in Parliament to be a voice for those who had none.
Now Hadrian’s fortune could have been dust for all it mattered. Because Julian was dead, his promising young life snuffed out like the rest of their family.
“His opponent was my neighbor, the Marquis of Bramber,” replied Ford. “He was wounded in the duel and died a few weeks later in great suffering. Their dispute was over a young lady.”
“I might have known. Was the little minx playing them off against one another?” He’d make her regret it if she had.
“Nothing like that!” Ford shook his head vigorously. “The lady was Lord Bramber’s sister. She is dead now, too, poor creature.”
“Poor creature?” Deprived of its rightful targets, Hadrian’s anger fixed on his partner instead. “You sound sorrier for your fine neighbors than you do for my brother!”
“I pity everyone involved,” Ford protested. “It was a terrible tragedy that never should have come to that.”
“Then why did you not stop it?” cried Hadrian. “If you could not talk sense into this neighbor of yours, you should have been able to warn Julian.”
“I tried to intervene when it began.” Ford sounded defensive. “But I was told to mind my own business. When it all came to a head, Laura and I were abroad. I’d meant to return to Singapore, but…my plans changed. I had a great deal going on in my own life just then.”
“Too much to care what happened to my brother?” Hadrian grabbed Ford by the arm. “Did you forget promising me you’d look out for him? Or would that have interfered too much with your grand new life as lord of the manor?”
“I hope you know me better than that.” Ford wrenched his arm free. “I tried to talk to your brother, but he did not want my advice any more than he wanted to stand for Parliament. He only wanted your money to pay off the debts he’d incurred from idle living.”
“That is a lie!” Hadrian stabbed his forefinger into his partner’s chest, hoping to provoke a fight.
Landing a few good blows might vent the dangerous head of rage building inside him. And if Ford struck him hard enough, it might knock out the nagging fear that he was somehow to blame for his brother’s death.
But Ford refused to be goaded, damn him! “It’s the truth. Julian was a rash young fellow used to getting his own way. He acted improperly, but he did not deserve to die for it. Looking back, of course I wish I’d done more. But I never thought it would go so far.”
“You let me down, after all I did for you.” Turning away from his partner, Hadrian headed for the door before he said or did something he would regret even more. “Perhaps folk like you never feel a sense of obligation to folk like me.”
As he strode away, the volatile brew of shock, desperation and fury within him threatened to collapse, leaving him as empty and dead inside as his brother. As dead as the Northmore family, of which he was now the last surviving member.
“Before you storm out of here,” Ford called after him, “don’t you want to know what became of the child?”
“Child?” That word stopped Hadrian in his tracks. It stirred the ashes in his heart like a breath of air, coaxing the dying embers to glow again. “What child?”
Chapter Two
“Dearest child!” Artemis lifted her nephew to her shoulder, inhaling his sweet baby scent as if it were the only air worth breathing. “I will do anything rather than give you up!”
They were heading back to Bramberley on a mild spring day, after visiting one of the tenant farms where Uncle Henry wanted her to place her nephew. After meeting the childless couple and judging their manner toward Lee, Artemis was determined not to let them have him.
“I could tell you didn’t like them,” she crooned. “The woman so coarse and her husband so gruff. It’s not a child they want, but a future servant. The impertinence of that woman, saying she’d soon cure you of being so spoilt. I shudder to think what her cure might be. It made me so angry, I wanted to give a most uncivil answer.”
She hadn’t, of course—probably couldn’t if she tried. All her life she’d been taught to avoid strong emotion in favor of well-bred decorum and reserve. Even with those she loved most dearly, she’d never been able to express her true feelings. It grieved her to think her brother and sister might have gone to their graves, never knowing how much she’d loved them.
Somehow it was easier with her nephew. Perhaps because he was so tiny and helpless, she’d been able to break through her deeply ingrained reserve and demonstrate her affection for him. Now her fear of losing him made Artemis clutch the child too tightly. He began to struggle against her embrace, demanding to be let down.
“Very well, you can walk for a while.” She blew a rude, wet kiss on each of Lee’s plump cheeks to make him laugh, then she set him on his sturdy little feet.
He crowed with delight at getting his own way. His lively gray eyes sparkled with quicksilver curiosity.
As he staggered forward over the high weald heath, Artemis clutched the leading strings of his frock to help keep him upright. “You’re happy to be away from Bramberley, aren’t you? Out here, you can explore and make as much noise as you like.”
A foretaste of homesickness gripped her when she contemplated leaving the crumbling Tudor mansion that had been her beloved home for more than a quarter of a century. Her only comfort was the thought that more modest quarters might be better suited to rearing a busy little boy. If only she could secure such a place and find the means to pay for it.
Preoccupied with her worries and watching that her nephew did not wander into a patch of nettles, Artemis failed to notice they were not alone, until a pair of dark boots and trousers appeared in view. With a spirited shriek, Lee pelted toward them, flinging his stout little arms around one lean leg.
“I beg your pardon, sir!” Artemis dived to extract the gentleman from her nephew’s grip. “I did not notice you standing there or I would have held him back.”
A vague sense of annoyance bristled within her. Why did this man not have the courtesy to announce himself, rather than silently observing them while she was unaware of his presence? Really, it was tantamount to spying! She would pick up her nephew and make as dignified an escape
