Page 12 of A Countess of Convenience

Miles shrugged. “I’m too new to this side of owning property to have a decent opinion. I fear I’ve been leaving everything to my steward and hoping for the best.”

“We three should make an appointment to thrash out what will be best for us and our tenants.” A smug smile flitted over John’s face then disappeared as he turned to her. “I see you are mending very well now, Judith.” His avid gaze seemed to take in all of her, from top to toe and inside to out. “You are enjoying the weather?”

“We all are, John. It is a truly lovely day.” Judith leaned her head back and savored the soft breeze. Spring had always been her favorite season.

“I am surprised you haven’t brought Anna out with you.”

Judith’s head snapped forward. “What did you say?”

Immediately on guard, John glanced from Mamma to Dora, whose faces had suddenly drained of all color. “I simply wondered why your daughter wasn’t enjoying the day with you. Is she perhaps napping?”

“My…daughter?” A sharp pain shot through Judith’s head, and she pressed her hand to her bandaged head. “I have a daughter?” She gripped her head tightly, willing the pain to subside. She couldn’t think with her head throbbing, making her face go numb. An image of a young girl—perhaps five or six, in a simple white dress, her golden hair hanging around her face—rose in her mind. With a sigh of relief, Judith said, “Anna. Of course, my daughter’s name is Anna.” Her heart swelled. How could she have forgotten her child?

Happiness washed over her as the memory of Anna fast asleep in her bed sprang to mind. An intense longing arose to take the girl in her arms, stroke her hair, hold her close. As though a veil had been lifted from her heart, she wanted nothing more than to see her child, touch her, assure herself she was really there. If the others were correct, she’d not seen Anna in months. How frightened the child must be not to have either mother or father to comfort her. That must be remedied at once.

“Yes, my dear.” Mamma had clutched her arm, which helped steady Judith. “She has just turned seven.”

Judith nodded and continued to rub her head. Perhaps the soothing motion would bring back more memories. But other than the image of her child’s face, she had no recollection of seeing the girl here at Ruecroft. “Is she napping as John suggested?”

Mamma and Dora exchanged a look that frightened Judith more than the news of her husband’s death ever had.

Slowly, she rose and leaned toward the two panicked women. “Mamma, Dora, where is my daughter?”

Chapter 4

The moment Dora had been dreading ever since Judith awakened had arrived. She exchanged a stricken look with Mrs. Welbourne then forced herself to face Judith. “Dear, I can assure you that Anna is fine.”

“She’s fine.” Judith’s tone was deadly. “My daughter is fine.” She spat out the words one by one. “Well, if she is, as you say, fine, why haven’t I seen her this week?”

“Dearest, it is a complicated matter.” All eyes were on Dora, the scrutiny making a cold sweat trickle down the back of her neck. “When you didn’t ask about Anna, we realized you didn’t remember her. So we thought it best not to tell you about her until you were stronger. Simon’s death was such a terrible blow.”

Judith’s face drained of color, and she swayed on her feet. “She’s dead. Oh, God. What happened to her? She must be dead, or she would be here with me.”

Lord Farringdon and Lord Haxby both shot to their feet, but Haxby managed to put his arm around her first. She leaned against his chest and burst into tears. “My dear, please sit down. I am sure your daughter is very much alive.” He shot a fierce look at Dora, prompting her to nod vigorously. “See? Miss Harper will explain it all to you.” He helped Judith into her seat then stood behind her, glowering at Dora.

Flustered by the earl’s scathing inspection, Dora leaned across the table and took her friend’s hands. “Yes, yes, of course she is alive, Judith. I said in the beginning she was fine.” She paused and took a breath. The truth, while not devastating, would be a blow for her sister-in-law. “And she is. She’s just…not here.”

“What do you mean she’s not here?” Judith groped for a handkerchief but in the end employed her well-used napkin to wipe her eyes.

“She remained at Harper’s Grange when we traveled north.”

Raising her tear-stained face, Judith stared at her, uncomprehending. Her puzzled expression broke Dora’s heart. “Why? Why would you think I would not wish my daughter with me?”

“My dearest,” her mother broke in, tears in her eyes, “you had been insensible for months. At best, we hoped to take care of you, to continue to keep you alive. Your father and I feared we could not tend to both you and a child, although we offered to have Anna brought here.” Mrs. Welbourne’s voice broke. “We could have found a governess for her, after a while.”

“Then why in God’s name did she not accompany us, Dora?” The unwavering gaze of her sister-in-law unnerved Dora to no end.

Straightening her shoulders, Dora returned Judith’s accusatory stare. “Because my parents refused to let her go.”

“What?”

All eyes were on Dora again, save Mrs. Welbourne, whose gaze was firmly on her lap. Both the Welbournes and Dora had seen no reason to tell Judith anything in her altered state, for she would not have comprehended it. If truth be told, Dora had not believed her friend would survive the journey home, or if she did, would not live long after it. Now, with the miracle of Judith’s recovery sitting before her, she would at last have to explain her parents’ final treachery.

“After my brother’s death, my parents were beside themselves with grief.” Her mother had cried and screamed for two days then collapsed and took to her bed for a week with only Aunt Mimi and Dora to try to console her. “My father shut himself up in the library, doing God knew what.” She cast an eye around the table and found sympathy in Lord Farringdon’s countenance. “All Eccles, the butler, would say was that the brandy stores had been all but depleted by the end of that first horrible week. Father eventually emerged, a sheaf of papers in hand, and declared that Anna would be his heir in all save the title and entailed lands.”

Startled, Judith blinked back her tears and blotted her eyes once more. “How could he do that?”

“Easily, my dear,” Lord Haxby spoke up. “Anything of his own purchase or anything not specified in the Downing entail, whether goods or property, are his to dispose of as he wishes. He need only stipulate it in his will.”