Chapter One WHEN Duncan Pennethorne, Earl of Sheringford, returned to London after a five-year absence, he did not go immediately to Claverbrook House on Grosvenor Square, but instead took up a reluctant residence on Curzon Street with his mother, Lady Carling. Sir Graham, her__second husband, was not delighted to see him, but he was fond of his wife so did not turn his stepson from his doors. Claverbrook House was where Duncan must go sooner rather than later, though. His funds had been cut off, without warning and without explanation, at just a time when he was preparing to return home at last-home being Woodbine Park in Warwickshire, the house and estate where he had grown up and that had provided him with a comfortable income since his father's death fifteen years ago. And he had not been going there alone. The Harrises, who had been in his employ for the past five years in various capacities, were going with him-the position of head gardener had fallen vacant and Harris was to fill it. Most important of all, four-year-old Toby was going there too. He was to be known at Woodbine as the Harrises' orphaned grandson. Toby had been wildly excited when told that he would be living henceforward at the place about which Duncan had told him so many exciting_stories-Duncan's memories of his boyhood there were almost exclusively happy ones. But then, suddenly, all his plans had gone awry, and he had been forced to leave the child with the Harrises in Harrogate while he dashed off to London in the hope of averting disaster. His only warning had come in a formal note written in the bold hand of his grandfather's secretary, though his grandfather's signature was scrawled at the foot of the page, unmistakable despite the fact that it had grown shaky and spidery with age. At the same time the steward at Woodbine Park had grown suddenly and ominously silent. They had all known where to write to him, much of the need for secrecy having been lifted with Laura's death. Duncan had felt obliged to inform a number of people about that unhappy event. It made little sense to Duncan that his grandfather would decide to cut him off just when a measure of respectability had been restored to his life. It made even less sense when he considered the fact that as the Marquess of Claverbrook's only grandson and only direct descendant, he was his heir. But sense or nonsense, he was cut off, turned loose and penniless, with no means of supporting those who were dependent upon him-or himself for that matter. Not that he worried unduly about the Harrises. Good servants were always in demand. Or about himself. He was still young and able-bodied. But he did worry about Toby. How could he not? Hence this desperate dash to London, which was perhaps the last place on earth he wanted to be-and in the middle of the Season, to boot. It had seemed the only course of action open to him.The letter he had written in reply to his grandfather's had been ignored, and already precious time had been lost. So he had been forced to come to demand an explanation in person. Or to ask for it, anyway. One did not demand anything of the Marquess of Claverbrook, who had never been known for the sweetness of his temper. Duncan's mother did not have any reassurance to offer. She had not even known he had been cut off until he told her so. "I only wonder," she said when he went to her boudoir the morning after his arrival-or the early afternoon to be more precise, since mornings did not figure largely in her favorite times of the day-"that he did not cut you off five years ago, my love, if he was going to do it at all. We all_expected that he would then. I was even toying with the idea of going to plead with him not to, but it struck me that by doing so I would quite possibly goad him into cutting you off even sooner than he planned. Perhaps he forgot until recently that you were still dr Excerpted from At Last Comes Love by Mary Balogh All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
