A Masked Earl by Kathleen Buckley

Author:Kathleen Buckley [Buckley, Kathleen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Georgian period, historical romance, missing heir, criminal class, impostor, masquerade, ruined heroine, too many suitors
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2019-08-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

They bade farewell to the last of the overnight guests early that afternoon. When the final coach rolled down the drive and the footman shut the door, his mother turned to him, glowing, and said, “Wasn’t it delightful, John? I can’t call to memory when we last had guests here. Everyone expects you will be a fine earl and a valuable addition to the neighborhood and the county.”

“Pray, spare my blushes, Mother.”

“No, really! You might have been training for the earldom since childhood. I can’t think how you became such an adept in society when, if I understood correctly, you were in business in London. Though I suppose men of business have their own gatherings and assemblies and the like,” she remarked doubtfully.

With the departure of their guests, Barlyon Manor settled into a routine, which suited him very well. Ride the property, talk with tenants, visit and be visited by neighbors, learn country ways, get to know his mother.

The butler presented the post at the breakfast table. As usual, his mother had two or three letters. As he had not spent his adult years writing to friends and acquaintances, he was unaccustomed to receiving letters or at least, letters not relating to his business. Today, he had two. One was from the earl’s man of business. It could wait. The direction on the other was inscribed in an unfamiliar hand. Out of curiosity, because it had not been impressed by a signet, he broke its seal first.

How will it be when it is known Yr Ldship is no more than a common felon? In return for a moderate payment, no one need learn of John Barlicorn. Deposit five thousand Pounds to the account of Mr. Charles Wilmott, Hoare’s Bank, Fleet Street. Advise of the deposit by letter to Mr. Augustus Otley, Simon’s Coffee House, Fleet Street.

Yr well-wisher,

A. O.

“Bad news, John?” his mother inquired. “You are frowning.”

He refolded the sheet and stuffed it into his coat’s deep pocket. “Say rather, annoying news. ’Tis nothing of import.”

He ate abstractedly. Fortunately, Lady Barlyon was absorbed in her own correspondence and did not demand his attention, apart from an occasional comment on what she was reading.

He was drinking another cup of coffee when she ventured, “Lady Hortense Angwin has written me. We were good friends when we were girls. I have seldom heard from her since.”

“Ah?” Barlyon raised his eyes from contemplation of his coffee bowl.

“Not because we stopped being friends but…I suspect your father did not pass on to me any of her letters, which he considered to contain improper matter.”

“Improper?” What the devil would a lady be writing to a female friend that could be considered improper?

“Hortense was a lively girl. If she included gossip about affairs or made some critical remark about the Church or the government or a man, Barlyon would have thought it unsuitable. From the letters I did receive, it was clear there had been others I had not seen.”

“I’m glad you are able to reestablish your friendship.

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