The Promise (17 page)

“Please ask His Grace to join us,” she said.

“Only His Grace?”

“For now.”

THE DUKE STRODE INTO the room minutes later carrying a glass of brandy. He bowed deeply without spilling a drop. Jane was impressed.

“Miss Gray, I understand you are to become my sister on the morrow. Welcome to the family.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Although his words were perfectly polite, his smile didn’t reach his eyes. He may have given his blessing, but he had yet to reconcile himself to the idea.

“Celebrating already, I see,” she said astringently.

His smile deepened at the pithy comment. “Something like that.”

“Your concerns about Miss Gray’s ancestry were for naught, Cameron. She didn’t descend from horse thieves or traitors,” the duchess said with a wry smile.

“Really mother! You’re as bad as Finn. I never suggested any such a thing.” He turned to Jane. “That is my mother’s idea of a jest. For some reason she and Finn insist on portraying me as a raging snob and a pompous ass.”

“I’m sure you’re not a snob,” Jane smiled innocently, provoking another snort of laughter from the Duke.

“I’m beginning to think you will hold your own with Finn,” he drawled.

“I think you might sleep more soundly tonight after you learn something about Jane’s family,” Justine said.

Rutledge quirked a brow.

“Our Miss Gray is in reality Lady Jane Amarante Lavinia Gray.”

“Pardon?” The name meant nothing to him.

“If you scan Debrett’s you will see that she is connected by blood to most of the
ton
as well as many noble families on the Continent. She was the only child of Robert Vaughan Gray, the ninth Earl of Clovershire, and Jacqueline Valere Moreau, the daughter of a French duke.

“Le Duc de Bruniquel,” Jane supplied helpfully.

“As it happens, son, her pedigree is as distinguished as your own. In some circles it would be considered superior, due to my less-than-blue blood. Finn is, in fact, marrying up.”

She held out the book to him. He read the passage then turned a gimlet eye on Jane. “Why the subterfuge, Lady Jane?”

“There has been no subterfuge, Your Grace. As I said to your mother, I may not have been entirely forthcoming, but neither have I lied. A series of unfortunate events and England’s primogeniture laws forced me to live as I have. After my father’s death, my cousin and I had a… falling out… and I chose to make my own way in the world. I feel no shame for the choices I’ve made. There is dignity in hard work.”

“I don’t dispute it. In the normal course of events, however, an earl’s daughter does not seek employment as a baker, nor does she choose to live in poverty and obscurity. Is it logical then to assume you are in hiding? To protect my brother’s interests, I would know why.”

“After Papa died I was still very young and my cousin became my guardian. He tried to force me into a marriage I found repugnant, so I fled to London. It’s that simple.”

Cameron leaned against the wall and waited for her to go into greater detail. It soon became clear that she had no intention of doing so.

“I suspect the story behind those three sentences could fill a book.”

“A pamphlet at best, Your Grace.”

“I presume you do not wish to contact your cousin regarding your upcoming nuptials?”

“Absolutely not! I am of age and his approval is not necessary. There’s no love lost between us.”

“Still, I would like to know more. Since Finn asked for our blessing to wed an orphaned baker, I must assume you have not discussed your true identity with him?”

“I told Lord Wallace that I would explain my history to all of you at once. I would like to do so now. Where is he?”

Cameron stepped into the hall and asked Peckham to find Finn. When he returned, Jane said, “Your brother’s proposal was so unexpected I haven’t had time to organize my thoughts. He should know about my cousin and the details of my inheritance.”

“And that would consist of…?”

“There is a manor home in Middlesex on the Thames called The Willows, a town home in London… near Westminster I believe… a villa in Bath, as well as several rental properties. I believe there is also a hunting box in East Anglia.” She tapped her fingertips on her lips, her brows drawn together in concentration. “Also a controlling interest in a shipping company, various stocks, bonds, paintings and such. I do not recall everything; it has been a long time since the will was read to me. We will have to consult my father’s solicitor.”

When she stopped, Cameron and the duchess were looking at her as if she had two heads. Rutledge began to chuckle. It began as a fairly dignified expression of amusement, but soon erupted into full-throated bursts of laughter. Every time it appeared he was getting himself under control, he would begin to howl anew. Soon the duchess joined in.

Their laughter reached the hall. Finn opened the door and sent Jane a questioning look.

“Don’t ask me,” she shrugged. “I didn’t say anything remotely funny.”

Cameron finally straightened and wiped tears from his eyes. He clasped Finn’s shoulders and said, “God love you, Finn. Father always swore you had the luck of the Irish. Allow me to introduce you to Lady Jane Amarante Lavinia Gray, daughter to the late Earl of Clovershire, your betrothed.”

“And granddaughter of a French duke, don’t forget,” the duchess chimed in, dabbing the corners of eyes with her sleeve.

“Are you making sport of poor Miss Gray?” Finn scowled.

Cameron burst into laughter again. “
Poor
Miss Gray!” he gasped.

Jane sighed and rose to her feet, suddenly overcome with the enormity of what she had agreed to. “I will leave His Grace to fill you in. It is late and I have much to arrange before I leave Sugarmann’s tomorrow. I have provided your mother with all the information she needs.”

Finn looked dismayed. “I assumed you would stay at Carlisle House tonight. A guest room has been prepared. Please don’t let them chase you away. Cameron is normally the essence of good manners. He must be in his cups… that is the only explanation I can give. I can find no excuse, however, for Mother’s lack of decorum.”

“Truly, they meant no offense and I took none. I am leaving solely because I must pack my things and speak with Mrs. East in the morning.”

Finn walked her to the waiting carriage.

“If you change your mind tonight, just send word. I’ll understand,” Jane said quietly.

He ignored her comment. “Simmons will collect you at ten. Will that give you sufficient time?”

“Yes, I think so. Good night, my lord.”

“Finn.”

“Finn,” she repeated.

“Good night, Jane.”

She smiled shyly and climbed into the coach.

FINN WAS FURIOUS WITH his family for teasing Jane. It was nothing short of cruel, no matter how lighthearted their jests. Thankfully she had not seemed at all distressed. Low voices and laughter drifted into the hall as he passed the library. His face darkened and he suppressed an urge to storm into the room to deliver the lecture they both so richly deserved. He would have, had he not needed their help to pull off the wedding. So he skirted the door instead and made his way through the house to the stables.

Cameron was habitually aloof, but Finn had never known him to be deliberately unkind. And his mother was unfailingly gracious and polite... ever the dignified duchess. What had gotten into them? He resolved to address the matter after he cooled down, then he’d make it clear they weren’t to disrespect Jane in any way.

An unpleasant task lay ahead of him, one he had avoided long enough. Finn had not seen Blaine in weeks, and even though it must be obvious to her that their fling had run its course, he felt the need to formally sever ties before he wed Jane. He had a guilty conscience; his neglect had been inconsiderate and boorish.

Finn patted his waistcoat to make sure his parting gift was safely nestled in his pocket. At twenty-nine he had enjoyed many women, but no enduring relationships, unless one called six months enduring. No matter how intense the initial passion, his interest always faded quickly. As a result, he was well versed in the rituals of ending an affair. Generosity was key to softening the blow. The diamond lavaliere and matching earbobs he had chosen were a bit extravagant, considering the brevity of their relationship. It was his hope the expensive baubles would offset the added blow of his impending marriage, news of which was likely to rub salt in the wound.

As he made his way across town, he thought about the voluptuous young widow he had seduced at the beginning of the season. Or had she seduced him? Strangely enough, he couldn’t recall the exact details… there had been a fair amount of alcohol involved. Either way, they had ended up between the sheets.

Blaine was an uninhibited lover who had embraced Finn and her newfound freedom with enthusiasm and the flexibility of a contortionist. Eager to explore the sensual side of her nature that had never been appreciated by her ancient, priggish husband, she had tested the limits of Finn’s endurance with seemingly insatiable desire. It took him days to recover from one of their marathon sessions. It was the first time in his life he truly understood the meaning of the phrase, “too much of a good thing.”

Blaine was beautiful, sexually rapacious, emotionally undemand-ing... everything a man could want in a lover, at least a man who avoided commitment like the plague. She met all the specifications of his dream woman, but somehow thoughts of her now left him flat.

As he rounded the corner he saw Lord Wheatley bounding up Blaine’s front steps. The door swung inward and he caught a glimpse of her before Wheatley disappeared inside.

So much for breaking her heart.

Finn laughed out loud at the irony of it. He had spent a bloody fortune on jewels to placate a woman who had wasted no time replacing him. Pent up tension drained from his body. He hadn’t been looking forward to tears or recriminations, but she could hardly indulge in theatrics with a new lover on the premises.

Finn tossed a shilling to a boy to watch his horse and promised two more upon his return. He slipped through a side gate to the servant’s entry and knocked.

The door swung opened and a short, plump woman with a ruddy face stood before him wiping her hands on an apron. “Cor, ’tis you… Lord Wallace! You’re here!” Blaine’s housekeeper blurted the obvious.

Amused, Finn patted his arms as if checking to see if he was real. “By God, it is and I am, Mrs. Malone.”

“But we wasn’t expecting you! Her ladyship... ain’t at home.” The sound of Blaine’s laughter filtered down the stairs. “I mean she’s poorly. Not receiving, is what I meant to say.” To her credit, she couldn’t look him in the eye.

Finn took pity on her. “I saw Lady Blaine receive Lord Wheatley but moments ago, which explains my tactful appearance at the servant’s entrance,” he smiled and squeezed her arm reassuringly. “Now, would you please make up some excuse to lure her down to the kitchen? I only need a few minutes of her time.”

Reassured that he didn’t intend to make trouble for her mistress, Mrs. Malone nodded and disappeared up the stairs. Moments later she returned with Blaine in tow, then quickly left the room. He was alone with his mistress.
Former
mistress. The lithesome blonde wore an emerald green silk wrapper over a matching negligee, an ensemble he remembered fondly. The thin fabric did little to conceal generous assets that bounced and swayed as she glided toward him.

“Finn! I have missed you terribly, darling! If you had sent word, I wouldn’t have made other plans.” Her bare feet and unbound hair announced what her “other plans” entailed. He hoped Wheatley had ample stamina and a strong heart.

Finn bent down and pressed an affectionate kiss to her forehead. “The fault is entirely mine, my lady. I’ve been neglectful and cannot blame you for seeking companionship elsewhere. Lord Wheatley is a lucky man… no one knows that better than I,” he winked.

Blaine pouted. “You do not appear at all jealous.”

“I am fortunate to be immune from that poisonous emotion. It tends to make otherwise sensible men behave like fools.” He withdrew a long black velvet jewelry case from his pocket and held it out to her. “I have a gift for you.”

She searched his handsome face with regret. “This is goodbye, then? If you’re leaving because of Wheatley, you should know he means nothing to me…”

“Hush, you owe me no explanation,” he said, even though technically she did. He had been generous enough to expect exclusivity. No matter, her liaison with Wheatley was well timed from Finn’s point of view. He wrapped his arms around her and said, “Let us part as friends, Blaine. We had a good run, didn’t we?”

She nodded and pulled back, a suspicion of tears brightening her eyes. “I must go. He’s waiting,” she whispered.

He pressed the box into her palm. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

Blaine lifted the lid and gasped. “Oh, Finn… how spectacular!” She draped the necklace around her neck and turned so he could fasten the clasp. She clipped the earbobs in place and did a little pirouette so he could admire the set… and her.