The Princess & the Pea (42 page)

Olivia stepped closer and settled herself in the overstuffed couch near the wing chair in which he slumped. "I know about Cecily."

"Oh?" He narrowed his gaze. "And just what do you know?"

"I know you believe she tried to pay that disgusting little man, Barton Sinclair, to lose the race to you."

"Excellent, Mother." He raised his glass in a toast. "You do indeed know all regarding my lovely fiancee. It seems I chose the right heiress, after all. She has more than enough money to preserve what is left of this wretched family's past and buy the future for her husband as well."

"I hardly think—"

"Frankly, Mother, at this point it no longer matters what you think." He drained the last dregs of whiskey in his glass and stared at her over the rim. "As to what I think ... well, that's an interesting tale."

He poured another glass and carelessly thudded the decanter onto the table beside his chair. The crystal tottered on the edge before settling and Olivia twitched, as if restraining herself from leaping to the fragile container's rescue.

"Please do continue, Jared." She was quite good, his mother, quite under control, calm and collected. Did nothing ever shock her?

"Very well." He paused for another long sip. "I think we have achieved precisely our purpose when we started, you and I. We needed an heiress to refresh the family coffers. That was the only requirement for a suitable marriage. Affection, respect, even love played no role in our quest." He paused and stared into the bottom of his glass. "It seems we have accomplished our goal far better man we ever expected. I am engaged to the heiress of a considerable fortune and love plays no role. No role at all."

"Cecily does love you, Jared," Olivia said softly.

His voice was bitter. "Love has nothing to do with it."

"I believe love has everything to do with it." Olivia drew a deep breath. "Love is precisely why Cecily is allowing you to continue under the erroneous impression that she has done something wrong."

"She paid Sinclair." Jared glared, narrowing his gaze. "She admitted it."

"Did she tell you why?"

"She didn't need to," he said darkly. "Sinclair confessed everything."

"Indeed." Olivia raised a skeptical brow. "And you believed him?" Jared nodded.

"I see." Her words were measured and precise. "From everything I have ever heard about Sinclair I am surprised you would take his word so readily."

"Your point, Mother." Sarcasm colored his voice.

Olivia studied her son thoughtfully. "My point, Jared, is that, until this incident I don't believe Cecily has lied to you. Has she?"

"No," he conceded grudgingly.

"Neither has she sought to deceive you—at least not in any significant manner. Has she?"

"No. Although, she did come to England originally to entrap ..." He sighed. "No. Not really."

"Then why on earth would you take the word of a man you distrust over the word of the woman you love?"

"She refused to say anything," he muttered.

"Goodness, Jared!" His gaze jerked up to meet hers at her forceful outburst. "I never suspected I had given birth to a complete idiot before this very minute. Think, Jared; what does her silence mean?"

"Nothing." He shrugged. "I don't know. That she didn't wish to admit her actions?"

"Jared!" she snapped.

"Very well." He pulled his brows together in an effort at concentration, ignoring his mother's impatient glare.

Jared pulled himself to his feet and paced the room. "I have no idea what her silence means. If she's not hiding her own actions from me, protecting herself, then ..." he stopped and stared, struck by the obvious possibility, "perhaps she's protecting someone else?"

Olivia nodded.

"Who is she shielding, Mother?" Jared said with a controlled intensity, needing to ask, fearing the answer.

Heartfelt regret shone in her eyes, and his stomach clenched. She clasped her hands in her lap and drew a steadying breath.

"James."

"James?" Doubt flooded through him. "But James is dead. How can she be protecting James?"

Olivia studied her intertwined fingers, as if she'd never seen them before. "It seems that for quite some time James had been selling plans and parts that you and Quentin had developed regarding your automobile. Sinclair was insisting on the item he had paid James for before his death. Instead of surrendering the part, Cecily returned his money."

She lifted her gaze to meet her son's. "I believe that's why James was near the pond the day he died. He had gone to the stables to—" she hesitated to say the vile word"—to steal your inventions to sell."

Jared stared, shaking his head in stunned disbelief

"I'm quite afraid it's all true," she said quietly.

"But..." Betrayed? By his own brother? The brother he had respected and admired and loved? "Why?"

"Money." She shrugged. "It's as simple as that. Your brother apparently believed in your abilities enough to know he could raise money with your work. As for Cecily—"

Jared groaned and sank back into his chair, burying his face in his hands. "She'll never forgive me, and I can't say I blame her." He raised his head. "I said some horrible things to her."

Olivia favored him with a motherly smile. "She'll forgive you. She loves you. You've done quite well, my boy; a young woman who meets all of my standards and loves you as well. Surely you can't ask for anything more."

"She meets your standards?" Jared stared incredulously. "That's right. I'd nearly forgotten, your tests. She's passed them all, hasn't she?"

Olivia cast him a relieved smile. "Yes, indeed. Now all you have to do is apologize—"

"Apologize?" He leapt to his feet. "It's not that simple. You have put this woman through a course of trials and tests that the hardiest competitor would be hard pressed to accomplish."

"I never ..." He cast her a scathing glare and she clamped her lips closed.

"And I..." Pain shadowed his heart. "I have charged her with a lack of faith and trust. I was the one who didn't believe. The one lacking in faith. I should have known better. I thought I was a fool to have trusted her. I was only half right."

"She will understand." Olivia said with conviction in her voice.

"Will she?" He shook his head in disgust. "I didn't. I have treated her with complete contempt. Even excluding the events of today. I have taken for granted that she would give up her home, her country and her own dreams to marry me. I have blithely expected her to sacrifice everything she holds dear and for what? What do I offer her in return?"

He paced the room, talking more to himself than to her. "A title she cares nothing about? A future in a country more mired in the past than striving toward the future? A life amid people she believes place far too high a value on traditions and appearances than on ingenuity' and progress?"

Contempt for his own selfish behavior swept through him. "I could have given her more of what she wants, what she respects, what she deserves, when she thought I was a penniless inventor than I can offer her now as the Earl of Graystone."

For a long moment heavy silence hung between them. The abject sorrow that surrounded her son nearly broke Olivia's heart. Certainly there were other prospective brides for Jared, but Cecily had met all the requirements and more. Cecily loved him. She drew a deep breath and prayed that after all these years spent preserving this family, its name and its heritage, she was not about to make the biggest mistake of her life.

"Would she be happier, would you be happier, as a"—she shuddered at the words—"penniless inventor?"

He laughed, a short, mirthless sound. "It sounds absurd, doesn't it? But with her by my side, striving to achieve something by my own, hard work, yes."

"How very American of you," she murmured.

"Perhaps." He shrugged. "We shall never know."

Olivia studied him and heaved a sigh of resignation. The foolish things one does for the love of one's children. "I believe you threatened to do just that should I put Cecily to one more test."

His gaze narrowed. "Yes?"

"Well," she paused, intent on studying her fingernails and choosing the proper words. "I did."

"You set the stables on fire!" He gasped with astonishment.

"No, of course not. Don't be ridiculous." She cast him a chastising frown. "I would never do such a thing."

He ran his fingers through his hair in a tired gesture of relief. "Thank God. For a moment—"

"I did, however, reveal your involvement in the automobile at Emily's ball." She gritted her teeth and waited.

"What?" The word exploded from him. "Why?"

"To see what Cecily would do. Would she abandon you to the vicious web of London gossip? Or would she stand by your side?" She smiled hopefully. "She did show a great deal of courage, you know."

He stared, anger darkening his eyes. "Did you think my warning an idle one? Did you believe for one moment I was not fully prepared to do exactly what I threatened?"

She straightened her shoulders and met his gaze directly. "It was a gamble I was willing to take."

"It is a gamble you've lost." Jared's voice rang strong and stern. He stalked to the doors and threw them open. "Watkins!"

"Yes, milord?" How very prompt Watkins was. He must have been listening at the keyhole again.

"Is Miss White in her room?"

"I believe she left the castle, milord, quite some time ago." As usual Watkins's face remained expressionless. Olivia wondered vaguely what family secrets lay hidden behind that carefully concealed facade.

"Very well, I'll simply have to find her." He nodded sharply to his mother and strode from the room.

All strength drained from Olivia. She sank into her chair, rested her head against the back and stared at the ceiling. Nothing had turned out even remotely as she had planned. It was all so muddled. They would no doubt need to sell the castle at some point if Jared was going to America. But she did so wish to keep the house in London. Still, her son's happiness, while admittedly not completely worth throwing away centuries of history and heritage, was worth some sacrifice.

She was pleased he'd found love and pleased with Cecily as well. If the girl had been another milksop heiress Jared would never have fallen for her. Olivia snorted to herself. If the girl had been like the others, she certainly never would have passed her tests. Marriage to money was such an excellent idea. It had worked for so many other families as well: why was hers—

The thought struck her with a startling clarity, and she sat bolt upright in her chair. Marriage! For money! Of course! What a delightful idea. What an interesting idea. Why on earth hadn't she thought of it sooner? Jared was not the only marriageable member of the family.

She sprang to her feet and headed toward the door, deep in plans and plots and sheer excitement. First she would need to change into something a bit more—

"Mother." Jared reappeared in the doorway so abruptly, she nearly ran into him. She stared with speechless surprise.

"I neglected to say something before I left."

Oh dear. What now? "Yes?"

He cast her an exuberant grin and dropped a kiss on her cheek. "Thank you."

He swiveled and disappeared into the shadows of the corridor. Olivia touched her fingers to the spot his lips had brushed and smiled. Perhaps everything was not nearly as muddled as she'd thought after all.

Olivia's gaze swept Millicent's drawing room. Her friend's butler had informed her that she would find Robert here. He sat at Millicent's writing desk, looking quite large and extremely out of place behind the fragile piece of furniture.

"Robert?"

He glanced up and rose to his feet, a smile of obvious delight on his face. Excellent. That would make this so much easier.

"Olivia!" He took her hand and brushed his lips across the back. "What a charming surprise. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"Robert." She gazed straight into his eyes. Blue, she noted, and very nice. "I am here to offer you a proposition."

"A proposition?" He quirked a brow. "It is far too seldom I receive propositions from enchanting women these days. Dare I hope it is quite scandalous?"

"Robert!" Heat flushed her cheeks. He was far more accurate than he knew.

He laughed. "So what is this proposition of yours?"

She pulled a steadying brealh. "I have given this a great deal of thought. With your new position in the government, I believe it would be of great benefit to you to have a home and ..." she summoned all her courage, for broaching this subject was far more difficult than she'd expected, "and ... a wife."

"A wife?" Surprise flooded his distinguished features.

"Indeed." She nodded firmly.

"Well..." A poignant look crossed his face, and Olivia knew he thought of Phoebe.

"No, Robert," she said sharply and prodded him in the chest with her finger. "I mean, a wife of your own."

He sighed. "I have no further illusions on that score. Phoebe was a dream of my youth, and when I saw her again it was as if the years separating us were no more than mere moments." He shook his head. "I fear I was something of an old fool. Whatever Phoebe and I once shared was over a very long time ago and is best forgotten. The past is now firmly in the past."

"Excellent." She poked him again. "Now, regarding your need for a wife—"

Caution edged his voice. "Did you have a candidate in mind?"

"Yes." She pushed once more and he tumbled back on the sofa. She dropped down beside him. "Me."

"You?" He stared with amazement.

"It seems to me," the words rushed out in a swift, unstoppable torrent, "that we have always gotten on quite well together. In fact, if I recall correctly, during my first season—before I married Charles, of course—we shared several, shall we say, flirtatious moments, and had circumstances—"

He placed a finger on her lips, effectively cutting off her comments, and chuckled wryly. "I did say you had a direct nature."

"If you don't go after what you want, you will very likely miss it altogether." Olivia said breathlessly, staring up at him. Odd; Robert's touch on her mouth brought the most peculiar fluttering sensation to her stomach.