The Princess & the Pea (27 page)

"I suspect none of this is quite proper," Emily said condescendingly.

"No doubt," Cece nodded.

"Why, eating right here on the lawn ..." Emily clicked her tongue in disapproval.

"Scandalous," Cece agreed, "simply scandalous."

"And encouraging guests to entertain themselves ..." Emily shook her head in a mournful manner.

Cece sighed with resignation. "Disgraceful."

At the far end of the terrace servants had casually scattered chairs in informal settings. Some guests sat in small groupings, while others stood in twos or threes or more. But all attention focused on those currently performing. Cece couldn't help but look on the success of the impromptu entertainment with satisfaction. She'd been right: No one, not here, not at home, could resist the chance to show their talent—even if said talent was minimal at best.

A particularly discordant note rang through the air, as if the singer was protesting her impending execution. Cece and her sister winced in unison.

"It's completely out of the ordinary, quite unexpected and ..." Emily grinned. "Absolutely delightful."

Cece stared with surprise. "Why, thank you, Em. I never dreamed you'd like my rather unorthodox effort."

"Neither did I." Emily shrugged and cast her sister a look of amazement. "I never imagined you could handle something like this. You are always so full of'interesting ideas, but they never seem to turn out precisely as you envision. This—" Emily gestured at the gathering"—is a genuine accomplishment. It's frankly something of a revelation."

"A revelation?" Cece laughed. "I'm glad I have somehow managed to exceed your expectations."

"So am I."

A revelation: imagine, Cece chuckled to herself, then sobered abruptly, struck by the cutting truth of her sister's observation. Of course Cece had hopes and dreams, prime among them following the path trod by Nellie Bly. But had she done a single, solitary thing to achieve those dreams? Short of her admittedly ill-advised idea to come to England, engage the affections of the Earl of Graystone and reject him in hopes of being allowed to do as she wished, she'd in fact done nothing to further her goals. Now the lure of journalism had faded, replaced by the fascination of automobiles and the attraction of Jared himself.

Jared. What if his suspicions about his mother's activities were correct? What if Lady Olivia actually was testing her? After tonight Cece's confidence in her ability to handle any trial Lady Olivia could devise was boundless. But what if. through no fault of her own. she failed a test she didn't even realize she faced? Would Jared's affection prove sufficient to overcome his mother's will? Would he still wish to many her if she did not live up to Lady Olivia's standards? Would his love remain true?

"Have you met Quentin's father yet?" Emily said, with a nod in the man's direction. Sir Bainbridge stood some distance away, engaged in conversation with Lady Olivia. "He's quite grand and extremely dashing."

"Like his son, perhaps?" Cece tossed her sister a teasing smile.

Emily blushed. "Perhaps."

Cece studied Robert Bainbridge thoughtfully. This was yet another revelation. The very idea of her mother's long-ago involvement with this stranger was unsettling, to say the least. It was impossible to picture Phoebe White with anyone other than Henry White. Ever. And harder yet to imagine her as a girl younger than Cece, in love for the first time. Still... she glanced toward her parents on the opposite side of the terrace.

They were a striking couple: one complemented the other. Each had dark hair and eyes. Henry was considerably taller than Phoebe, and she appeared delicate and fragile in his wake. With a start, Cece realized her mother was still extremely pretty, her father distinguished and handsome. For the first time Cece suddenly viewed her parents as people independent of spouses and children. It was an extremely disturbing thought.

This did indeed seem the evening for revelations. First there was the confirmation ofher abilities and competence to the surprise ofher family and her own relief. Next, there was the as yet unconfirmed idea of Lady Olivia testing her qualifications to be a countess. And finally there was the disquieting glimpse into her mother's past and the uncomfortable acknowledgment that, long before she was her mother. Phoebe had experienced the same awkward emotions Cece herself now knew.

"Shall we join the others?" Emily broke abruptly into her thoughts.

"My, yes." Cece linked her arm with her sister's and they started toward the terrace. "I would dearly hate for us to miss anything. Tonight has already been an enlightening evening. I can scarcely wait to see what will happen next."

"It has been a long time, Robert." Olivia held out her hand to Sir Bainbridge with genuine delight.

"Olivia." Robert's eyes sparkled in greeting. "You are looking even more lovely than usual."

"Robert!" Heat flushed up her face. Admittedly she had changed somewhat in the ten years since they'd last met. Her figure was a bit fuller. More man a few strands of gray had crept into her hair, but she thought they added a distinguishing touch to her features. Her face, however, showed few lines, and Olivia privately thought she had weathered her forty-seven years quite nicely. "You are a rogue."

Robert laughed. "Only for you, Olivia, only for you." His expression sobered. "I was quite sorry to hear about Charles and James."

"I received your notes." Olivia cast him a smile of appreciation. "They were most welcome. Now," she said brightly, "tell me what at long last brings you home."

"I am to be appointed to a position in London."

"Oh?" Olivia struggled to keep the blatant curiosity from her voice. "What kind of position?"

Robert shook his head and chuckled wryly. "You always did have a very direct nature."

"If you don't go after what you want, you will very likely miss it altogether." Olivia said, her manner firm.

"I see." Robert paused to sip his wine, and his glance slid beyond her to Phoebe. "Does that apply to everything?"

Olivia followed his gaze. "Oh dear, I had forgotten all about that."

Robert shrugged. "No reason for you to remember. I believe you and Charles were abroad during the months Phoebe was in England."

"Millicent told me what happened, of course." A pang of sympathy shot through Olivia at the barely concealed look of hopeless desire in Robert's eyes. Poor man. From what Millicent had said, he'd had quite a passion for Phoebe. She wasn't certain of all the details but recalled it had had something to do with messages not being delivered and a minor misunderstanding that grew out of control and destroyed their association. She hurried to change the subject. "You still haven't told me what kind of government position you might be accepting."

Robert smiled and shook his head. "It would be indiscreet for me to mention it before the formal announcement: therefore ..."

Olivia waved a dismissive hand. "No matter, I have no wish to put you in an awkward position. I shall simply have to swallow my curiosity and wait with everyone else."

Robert raised a skeptical brow. "If memory has not failed me altogether, I believe curiosity was one of your most highly developed traits."

"One changes with the years," Olivia said airily. "Some things become far more important: others lose their appeal entirely."

"Do you think so, Olivia?" Robert's eyes gleamed intensely, and again his gaze skimmed past her to rest on Phoebe White. "Is there any secret, I wonder, to which things become less important with time and which grow ever stronger to the point where one would gladly give up a great deal for them?"

"I don't know, Robert," she said faintly. It was apparent Robert Bainbridge still had strong feelings for Phoebe White. What a shame. As much as she hated to interfere, Olivia would simply have to take this matter in hand, if only to avert the trouble she suspected could be brewing.

Robert had the look of a man considering the most dire of options. Any action on his part to win Phoebe back, and destroy her marriage in the process, would have to be firmly squelched. It could only lead to scandal, and that Olivia would not permit. If Cecily was indeed to become the next Countess of Graystone, the last thing any of them needed was sordid gossip about her mother and another man. Why, the entire affair could ultimately end in divorce, and that was an embarrassment that would no doubt color them all with the same brushstroke of dishonor.

Olivia would have to distract Robert from any thought of pursuing Phoebe. She considered him thoughtfully. It had been many years since she'd practiced the nuances of flirtation. Still, it must be very much like riding a horse: Learned once, it no doubt came back to one when needed. Olivia needed it now.

"Robert..." She favored him with her most charming smile. "It has been so long since you've visited: would you care to join me for a stroll around the castle grounds? We can catch up on our respective pasts."

Robert bowed slightly. "Olivia. I would be delighted." He offered his arm and she accepted it graciously. He cast one last look at Phoebe, then turned his complete attention to Olivia. "It seems I have a great deal to catch up on. But first—" he steered Olivia toward the rose garden—"tell me all you know about Henry White."

"You will cease this interference in my life at once!" Jared paced the length of the castle library, barely keeping his temper in check. His ire had simmered through the long evening, and now that the guests had finally bid good night and those staying at the castle had retired, it was past time to confront his mother. He relished the moment.

Olivia perched on a comfortably shabby wing chair and gazed at him innocently. "Jared, dear, I have no idea what on earth you are talking about."

Jared glared. "You know exactly what I am talking about."

Olivia's eyes widened with ingenuous candor. "Really, Jared, I am quite at a loss."

Jared rolled his eyes toward the distant ceiling and drew on every ounce of control at his command. He closed his eyes and, with a slow, measured manner, counted to ten. It always surprised him how this simple technique soothed even the nerves of a man plagued by meddlesome females. His composure restored, his gaze again fell on his mother.

"You expect me to believe you have no inkling of what I am justifiably furious about?" Jared's surprisingly calm tone belied the import of his words.

Olivia shrugged helplessly. "None whatsoever."

"Tell me about the party, Mother."

"The party?" Olivia's guileless manner would have convinced most people of her genuine innocence. Even Jared hesitated, wondering if his assumption as to his mother's tactics could possibly be wrong. "I think the party was an unqualified success. Of course I did so hate abdicating my responsibilities as hostess to Cecily. Still," she heaved a heartfelt sigh, "it could not be helped. I was altogether incapacitated."

That was it: Jared's momentary doubt vanished. Never in his entire life had his mother been "incapacitated."

"Millicent said it was a sick headache," he said, studying his mother closely.

Olivia peeked at him from beneath downcast lashes. "Yes indeed. It was quite awful. I am only grateful that I rallied in time to make an appearance this evening."

A note of compassion shaded Jared's words, and he gazed at his mother with his most understanding expression. "It was certainly noble of you."

Olivia lifted her chin in a gesture of courage and bravery. "It was not at all easy."

"I can imagine." In spite of his anger, Jared was hard pressed not to burst into laughter. Her heroic act in the face of dire illness was impressive, to say the least. He didn't believe it for a second. "I thought Cece managed to handle the evening quite well. What did you think?"

"It was a bit unconventional, but all in all I think she did an excellent job." Olivia nodded her satisfaction.

"What do you think she handled best?" he asked in an oflhand manner.

"Best?" Olivia pulled her brows together thoughtfully. "The entire evening was no doubt difficult. But I do think the cook's being sick provided the greatest—"

"Trial?" Jared said sharply.

"No, no." Olivia waved away his interruption with an absent flick of her hand. "I was going to say challenge. The entire incident was a—" She stopped short and her eyes widened with obvious dismay at what she had nearly admitted.

"A
what,
Mother?" Jared narrowed his eyes and glared. "A test, perhaps?"

"Jared, you can't possibly believe—"

"Oh, I can believe, Mother, and I do."

"It was an unfortunate coincidence, nothing more."

"Coincidence?" Jared scoffed disdainfully. "Coincidence is the one thing I would never believe." A sudden thought struck him. "I wonder ... have there been other tests, as well?"

"I don't understand how you could possibly suspect me of such a thing." Olivia said in an indignant tone.

Jared raised a brow in disbelief. "Your record in such matters is indisputable. I was a fool not to have realized you would continue your meddlesome efforts. What do you plan next, Mother? Famine? Plague? Perhaps you'll simply put a pea under her mattress to test her sensitivity."

"I always did like that story," she murmured.

He leveled her a stern glare. "I have a great deal of difficulty accepting the fact that after our last discussion, when I expressly forbade you to interfere in my affairs with any more tests of prospective brides—"

"I never actually promised ..." she said under her breath.

He quelled her comment with a furious glance. Resting one hand on either side of his mother's chair, he leaned toward her, his manner brooking no argument. She appeared almost to shrink into the chair.

"While I cannot prove you were indeed testing Cece"—Olivia seemed to relax the slightest bit at his words—"I will give you one last warning."

His mother stared silently, apprehension mingling with stubborn determination in her eyes.

"If I so much as suspect you of tossing the tiniest obstacle, the merest difficulty, the slightest dilemma in Cece's path in the future, I will take action we will both regret." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "Do I make myself perfectly clear?"