Page 3 of A Symphony for the Earl

He attempted to speak, then threw up his hands in frustration. Taking the delicate floral chair opposite her, it was some moments before his agitation subsided and he could answer calmly.

“I’ve had the most disturbing—no, incredulous—letter from my London solicitor. Falworth claims that I’m responsible for some underage girl in Dublin and sends legal papers to prove my guardianship. What’s more, she is on her way here to Merrick House.”

“Well, it sounds like Mr. Falworth is misinformed. Why don’t you visit him and remedy the situation? Quietly, of course.” Lady Amelia pointed to the society papers spread open on the desk. “Have you seen Lady Sanderton’s daughter is engaged, Richard? Why, the girl has a decided squint, and your sister has been out a month with no offers yet.”

“Mother, this is a grave matter. I can’t turn around a ship in mid-ocean. She will arrive in London whether we wish it or not.” The tight bands around the back of his neck had become another full-blown headache, but he took a deep breath and mastered his impatience.

“Falworth claims I am her guardian in the eyes of the law and she must reside here with us. This is not a good thing, Mother. God knows I have done my best to bring up two siblings, but I’d like to enjoy a bachelorhood before I marry.”

His mother raised a brow. “I would say, Richard, that Rose Talbot, Miss Ernest, and I have done most of the work concerning your sisters, while you have concentrated on restoring our fortune.”

The earl ground his teeth and dropped his head in his hands. He would have raked a hand through his hair, but recalled his valet had painstakingly combed it à la Brutus this morning.

“How did we come about this child? You haven’t…oh, Richard…she’s not yours?”

Richard sat up abruptly. “Good God, no. It’s Gerald Rafferty’s daughter.”

“Gerald Rafferty? Your Uncle Carlisle’s old partner in Barbados? Why on earth does he not take care of his own child?”

“Rafferty has been lost at sea for these past two years. This letter dates from February, but I misplaced it and just read the damn thing.”

“It’s not like you to lose things, Richard. Perhaps you’re overtired. But I still don’t understand why the girl must come to us. How old is she?”

“Falworth didn’t mention her age. The guardianship has trickled down to me by the merest chance. In the event of his death, Gerald Rafferty’s will named Uncle Carlisle her guardian.”

“But your uncle died four years ago. This is all very confusing.”

“The will on file with Rafferty’s solicitor in Dublin has never been updated. And as Carlisle Merrick’s closest living relative, the guardianship falls to me.”

“Well, it is inconvenient, I must say. When is this—”

“Fiona Rafferty.”

“Miss Rafferty expected?

“The letter says she will arrive in a month.”

“But if the letter is one month old…” Richard waited for his mother to grasp the implications of her reasoning. Lady Amelia grew pale.

“Exactly,” Richard replied, leaning back and closing his eyes. The fragile chair creaked alarmingly, and he leaped to his feet.

“Well,” his mother rallied. “Well, let’s hope she will be a quiet thing and stay in the background. It would be best if she were quite plain. We can’t have your sister overshadowed in her first Season. Heavens, what shall I do about dinner this week—I wasn’t expecting a guest. Shall I order lamb or goose?”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Goose.”

Chapter Two

A Grave Announcement in Dublin, Ireland, and an Incident on High Street

Two Months Earlier

Fiona Rafferty stared across the impressive mahogany desk at Mr. Augustus O’Cleary, Esq. in his office on Upper Fitzwilliam Street, Dublin.

“Do you mean to say that I must be orphaned before I can have access to my father’s funds?”

An official-looking paper from the Irish government lay in front of her and the solicitor wanted her to sign the ridiculous thing. “My father is alive, Mr. O’Cleary. I would feel something amiss if he were dead. He will return eventually, I promise you.”

Her hands clenched so tightly that the nails bit into her palms. She ignored the hard knot in the pit of her stomach, along with a niggle of doubt. What if her father never returned? The enormity of that possibility was inconceivable. She couldn’t imagine life without him.