Lord Cavendish Returns Read online

  “You were married at the time,” Dominic said carefully. He watched Harry Johnson study his fingers for a moment before he nodded.

  “I was. Harry, my son by my wife, was about seventeen at the time and was working at the London office, which left me able to remain at your estate with your mother for several months. We fell in love. It was a happy time for both of us.”

  “You didn’t support her when she found herself with child though.” Dominic’s voice hardened. He tried to warn himself that he wasn’t there at the time and should not judge, but he could not relate to any man who would not stand by any woman he had a child with.

  “I wasn’t given the choice. Your father knew the child wasn’t his because he had been in London with his mistress. By the time he got back to the estate, your mother and I had discussed the options available to us. Unfortunately, even if we could have persuaded our spouses to agree to divorces, we would have struggled to relocate and start again. I would not have been able to work in London because my reputation would have been in tatters. My son Harry; his life would have been destroyed because he would have not been able to take work in the legal field either, and your mother would have faced censure and been shunned by the social circles she had grown up in. She belonged in the country, in the house she had moved in to when married your father. She had grown accustomed to Havistock Hall and loved it here. Although she was happy to leave it so we could be together, your father wouldn’t discuss a divorce and refused to even think about a separation. As soon as he found out about the baby, he closed everything up in London, got rid of his mistress and moved back to Havistock Hall. Although he wasn’t too scornful of your mother, they did have many rows and she was deeply troubled, but there was little I could do to help her. I think that your father would have ceased to employ my services if I hadn’t been deeply involved in several difficult legal matters on behalf of the estate. As it was, he refused to accept the child because it wasn’t his and insisted that I make arrangements to deal with the boy myself.”

  “So mama went away to Yorkshire to have the baby,” Edward shook his head and studied the carpet for a moment. It was a desperately sad situation and something that still haunted the man seated opposite, if the tears in his eyes were anything to go by.

  “I was forced to come back to London and carry on as though nothing had happened. My letters to your mother went unanswered and, although I continued to work for the family, the stress and heartache of losing Alice and our boy affected my health. I have never really been the same since; emotionally or physically. To this day, gentleman, I bitterly regret having to walk away from your mother. My marriage to my wife was never the same after I came back to London. Although she didn’t know about the baby, she knew that I was in love with someone else and I was just not able to be the same around her. I still adore your mother, even though dear Alice is no longer with us.”

  “Were you the one who made arrangements for the child to be looked after?” Sebastian growled. He could only hope to God that the child hadn’t been handed over to an orphanage or they would have no chance of finding out where he ended up.

  “I did. He has had a good, middle-class life, and has been raised to be a fine man of good standing. I have supported the boy financially all of my life and have made sure that he has been raised by a family who consider him one of them. He has brothers; Angus, Joseph and Robert. The man who raised him, Bartholomew Lawton, was a good friend of mine who returned from the war a broken man. He struggled to find work because of his injuries, and had three boys to support. When I asked if they would take the baby if I provided them with a house and a steady income, they jumped at the chance. He and his wife Agnes adored the boy, and looked after him with so much love and affection. I have called in often over the years, and spent many hours with Harper, although he never knew that I am his father. Agnes and Bartholomew didn’t want me to tell him and I could see no reason not to respect their wishes. It would only have upset the boy and unsettled him.”

  A sigh of relief swept through the Cavendish brothers for a moment before another wave of questions surfaced.

  “Where is he now?”

  “At the moment? I don’t know,” Harry replied sadly.

  Sebastian groaned and shook his head at Dominic. “Is he still alive?”

  “As far as I know. I certainly hope so. I have used my contacts to keep track of him as much as possible over the years, but he moved recently. He went into the army as soon as he was old enough, and has served abroad for some time. He came back a few years ago and has been working for a secret government organisation called the Star Elite ever since, but his work takes him everywhere. He has never married or settled down. The last I heard, he was undercover somewhere but I cannot find out where.”

  Dominic smiled. For the first time since Mildred had told them the news, Dominic felt confident that they would get the information they needed about Harper, and would soon be in a position to welcome him into the family. He briefly wondered whether Sir Hugo was in London, and shared a grin with his brothers.

  “We know about the Star Elite,” Edward murmured quietly. “We had a cause to work with them a few years back.”

  Harry Johnson stood up and shuffled over to a bureau in the far corner of the room. He dropped the lid and withdrew a sheaf of papers. “The baby caused your parents many problems and nearly destroyed their marriage altogether. It broke your mother’s heart to hand him over to someone else to look after, but your father insisted that he couldn’t be a part of her life. I have ensured that he has been financially supported, and your mother ensured that a proportion of her fortune was put aside for him. It was a hidden part of her will which I was ordered to keep separate from all of you. A title belonging to her part of the family was held by your uncle. Now, what’s his name?” Harry stared thoughtfully into the fire for several moments.

  “Lord Cavendish?” Edward suggested hopefully.

  “Earl of Hopswich. George Bromley, that’s it.”

  “George was mother’s uncle. He had the title of the Earl of Hopswich?”

  “He did, but he was a reprobate who hated society so never used it. Your mother insisted that Harper have something of hers in addition to her fortune, so your father agreed that the title of Earl of Hopswich would be bestowed upon Harper, and Harper would inherit Hopswich Hall as well as your mother’s fortune. The rest of the Cavendish estate was split between you three.”

  “Hopswich Hall?” Dominic frowned. It was a beautiful Jacobean mansion on the edges of the Leicestershire/Nottinghamshire border. He was shocked that a house belonging to the family was so close and nobody had ever told him. “Who lives there at the moment?”

  “Nobody,” Harry sighed. “I agreed to ensure that it was maintained, repaired if needed and the grounds kept in order. The farms and grounds are all rented out to local farmers, but the house has been closed down.”

  “Does Harper know about any of this?”

  Harry sighed and shook his head. “I tried to contact him several times since he grew into maturity but he hasn’t answered any of my letters. My son, well, my other son, Harry, travelled to Yorkshire to ask him to come to the London office, only to be told that Harper had joined the army and was away fighting somewhere only nobody knew where.”

  “Does Harry know about Harper?” Sebastian asked with a frown.

  “Not yet but now that you know about him, I can see no reason not to tell Harry that he has a half-brother. It will become common knowledge once Harper takes the title and I would prefer Harry not to find out from gossips.” Harry resumed his seat and shook his head. “Trying to find Harper is like trying to harness a ghost, I don’t mind admitting to you. I have left direction for him to contact me several times but he has not done so. Whenever I do find out from Sir Hugo where Harper is, I am told that he is undercover and cannot be contacted. I have asked Sir Hugo to pass Harper several letters but Harper doesn’t reply to them. It is hardly news I care to impart via quill and
ink, especially given the entailments, but it is darned near impossible to get near him.” Frustration rang clearly in his voice.

  Dominic blew his cheeks out and stared down at the cold tea and cake in front of him. He had little appetite for either now. The urge to rush down to Cornwall and visit his old friend Hugo was strong, but he knew that it would be futile if he didn’t at least write first. Sir Hugo still worked with the Star Elite and travelled the length and breadth of the country frequently. It was going to be difficult to get in touch with him. He knew that if Harper was working undercover somewhere then none of them would know where he was until it was safe for Harper to leave his mission in the shadows and return to London. They just had to speak to Sir Hugo and be patient.

  He sighed as he settled back in his seat. They exchanged small talk for an appropriate length of time before he nodded to his brothers and they took their leave. They were at the door when Harry’s voice rang out.

  “Would you do something for me when you find him?”

  “Of course, what?” Dominic replied warily.

  “Tell him that I wish to meet him. I have seen him grow up, but I have not met him since he has become an adult and I do so wish to see him again.”

  Dominic heard the longing in the old man’s voice. All of the disquiet he had previously felt over the situation that had arisen all those years ago suddenly drained away and he nodded briskly “Of course. I will tell him.”

  Moments later, the men stood on the side of the street and studied the steady stream of passing traffic.

  “Good Lord, he is working with Sir Hugo,” Edward whispered. They had most probably already met him and not realised who he was.

  “I cannot remember being introduced to a Harper before,” Sebastian muttered and studied Dominic’s thoughtful expression. “What are you thinking?”

  “What?” Dominic jerked and turned to look at him. “I think that I need to make contact with Sir Hugo and find out where Harper is. I do seriously consider that we have to think very carefully about how we approach our new half-brother with the news that he is not only wealthy, but entitled, and has a second family to boot. He has been working with the Star Elite, and you know how dangerous they are. We need to be careful.”

  Sebastian’s thoughts immediately turned to the house back in Leicestershire that was full to the rafters with children. He couldn’t help but wonder how a bachelor; a fighter who worked with an organisation like the Star Elite, would adjust to life under the same roof as three couples, sixteen children, five dogs and at least eight cats.

  “God, poor bastard,” Sebastian muttered, and hurried after his brothers.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Harper winced as a loud blast of raucous laughter reverberated off the walls of the dingy tavern. The tepid brew the inn keeper had slammed down before him moments earlier did little to hold his interest and he began to wonder just what the hell he was doing standing in a tavern when he could be in lodgings somewhere enjoying a nice hot bath, some food and a shave. He was tired, hungry and desperately needed some peace and quiet to allow his mind to settle, but it was evident that he wasn’t going to get any of it standing in this particular hovel.

  He ran the palm of his hand over the liberal smattering of bristles that covered his cheeks and chin and winced at the roughness he found there. He had stopped shaving a couple of weeks ago because he had needed a beard to help with his disguise. Now that his mission was over, he couldn’t wait to get rid of the itchy facial fuzz, and wished to hell that he had chosen to change out of the workman’s garb he had put on yesterday because he was certain that he could smell himself now, and that was most disconcerting.

  A dark frown settled over his brow. He should be immensely relieved to have his part in the Star Elite’s latest operation finished at last. Everyone who worked with, or alongside, the Star Elite, had put in many tireless hours of hard labour to bring about the downfall of the quite sophisticated operation that had been set up by a group of French spies. The English traitors who had supported the purchase of numerous safe houses, identity papers and provided finances had all either been captured or killed, and the last of the French spies had been captured earlier that afternoon and was now languishing in the Tower of London. It should have been a time of celebration, but all Harper could feel was annoyance that he only had one day off before he was supposed to leave for his next mission.

  He glanced cautiously around the bar as he took a sip from his mug. Something was amiss only he couldn’t figure out what. The strange sense of disquiet had settled over him as he had watched the prisoners’ cart turn out of the road earlier that afternoon, and had dogged his every footstep since. He had thought it was because of the tension that had swept through him and his colleagues prior to their confrontation with the French spy, but Fornier was now behind bars, yet the feeling of discontent still lingered.

  His thoughts turned to the day after tomorrow when he had to report to the War Office to receive the details of his next mission. He could only hope that the next job Sir Hugo sent him on wouldn’t involve standing around in the middle of the night watching other people go about their lives. Right now he didn’t feel as though he had a life. It was more of an existence.

  Now that he came to think about it, without his work he had nothing. He had no home and, apart from his brothers in Yorkshire, nobody he could really call family. His thoughts turned to Rupert, Angus and Joseph back in Hambley Wood. He missed his brothers and the warm welcome they always gave him when he managed to snatch a couple of days to pay a visit.

  He frowned and studied the bar top while he mentally calculated just how long it had been since he had returned to Hambley Wood, his childhood home. One long finger trailed over a dirt-darkened rut on the bar top as he worked out that it had been at least four years since he had been anywhere near Yorkshire, and even longer since had called in to see any of his brothers. He had written once or twice over the years, and had received several letters in return. All of them had asked him to go home when he got the chance, but he was always at work with the Star Elite and he had never really set aside the time to make the journey north.

  “Well, ‘ello ‘ansum,” a husky voice drawled in his ear.

  At first he didn’t move. When he did, he turned his head to look at the oval face of the buxom woman who was brazenly pushing her bosoms against his arm. He studied the deep groove of her ample cleavage in consideration for a moment and tried to remember how long it had been since he had indulged in any of that. The grubby finger she slid slowly up his arm immediately quashed any thought of exchanging sexual banter with her though. Instead, he removed her searching hand from his shirt and gave it back to her with a rueful twist of his lips. He pushed away from the bar and drew himself up to his full height when he saw the immediate flash of anger in her eyes. His smile vanished and he glared down at her; challenging her to screech at him. To his relief, she took a hasty step back and looked panic stricken for a moment as she glanced around the bar in search of support.

  “’Ansum, ain’t interested, thanks all the same,” he drawled in a voice that mimicked hers. He heard the man beside him chuckle but didn’t take his gaze off the heavily painted woman before him. Instead, he lifted his brows at her and received a glare in return before she stomped off in a huff. As he turned his attention back to his ale he half expected a jug to whack him on the back of his neck. When nothing happened, he waited a couple of minutes before he took a sip of his ale and turned to study the tavern behind him again.

  Everything seemed perfectly normal. The woman had found another customer, one who appeared to be more willing than he was, and the rest of the patrons appeared engrossed in either conversation or drink. On the surface, there was nothing wrong, but Harper couldn’t shift the feeling that something was not right about the entire scenario.

  For one, albeit brief, moment he wondered whether he had made the right choice in turning the woman’s offer down. It had been a long time since he had managed
to find the time to indulge in pleasures of the flesh and even then it had been with a quick one with a tavern doxy somewhere near Padstow. Or was that Hastings? He frowned at the wall opposite the bar while he tried to remember the last time he had enjoyed a woman.

  “Summat wrong?” The inn keeper demanded with a fierce scowl.

  “Where’s your pot?”

  “Outhouse out back.” The man nodded to a door beside the bar.

  Harper drained the dregs of his ale and slapped the empty mug back onto the bar top before he disappeared through the narrow door. He followed the corridor that led to the yard at the back of the inn. At the far corner of the small square space stood a narrow brick building which contained nothing more than a bucket. He dropped the front placket of his breeches and was barely there more than a few seconds when the sudden rush of movement behind him warned him that he was not alone. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do to defend himself. Pain exploded the back of his head and the world went black.

  “Jesus, Sebastian, you could have waited,” Edward snarled as he shook his leg out.

  “What? You said to nab him while he was in there.”

  “He was still peeing,” Edward cursed and glared at his brother who tried to smother a smirk, and failed. “I will get you back for that one, brother mine, of that there is no doubt.”

  “Promises, promises,” Sebastian replied with a snort.

  “When you two children have quite finished, do you want to get him the hell into this cart before we have half of the tavern onto us?” Dominic drawled in a voice that was heavily laden with mirth.