Authors: Kate Worth
“What are your thoughts?” Finn asked his mother.
“We cannot know what the future holds,” the duchess said. “In the meantime we should treat Miss Gray with the same courtesy we would give any relation.”
LUNCH WOULD HAVE been excruciatingly uncomfortable had it not been for Pip’s humorous commentary. She was too young to pretend to be anything other than impressed, admiring her surroundings with slack-jawed wonder. Her grandmother and uncles were enchanted and even the footmen had trouble keeping smiles from their faces.
“Is this your castle?” she asked Rutledge.
He smiled. “No. Castles are much, much bigger and are never built in cities. We do have a real castle, though, complete with a dungeon and crenelated towers. It’s far away in the Scottish Highlands.”
“What’s crenbelabled mean?”
“Crenelated. It means notched, like this.” Cameron drew an outline in the air.
“Like Rapunzel’s tower! Does it have dragons?” She looked disappointed when he shook his head. “How ’bout knights and peasants?”
Jane laughed. “Pip is fascinated by old folk legends. I was born in Dorset and raised on Celtic folklore. I passed on my love of giants, pixies, and fairies to her. My father used to read me the Canterbury Tales when I couldn’t sleep. I share what I can remember.”
“It has a moat and a beautiful lake called
Loch Dùghaill
,” the Duke continued. “Unfortunately, there are no knights and I don’t think the tenant farmers would care to be referred to as peasants. I’ll take you to visit one day.”
“Really? He’ll take us to visit his castle, Mama!” Pip popped up and down in her chair. Jane was in the process of devising a diplomatic response when she was saved by Pip’s short attention span.
“Goodness, Mama! Have you ever seen anything more beautiful than this?” she breathed, her eyes round with wonder as they entered the dining room.
Jane shared her amazement. The walls were covered with hand-painted gold leaf murals in the Japanese style. Exotic birds perched in the twisting branches of cherry trees in full bloom, colorful swallow-tailed butterflies flitted over ferns and flowers. The ceiling and doors were adorned with branches, giving the impression they were enclosed in a vibrant, whimsical garden.
“I can’t say that I have, Poppet,” Jane smiled and admired the elaborately carved furniture and plush silk carpet that enhanced the Asian motif.
Lord Wallace seated Jane and Pip then settled into a chair on the opposite side. Rutledge sat at the head of the gleaming mahogany table, the duchess at the other end. Although large and luxuriously appointed, Jane assumed it was the family dining room and that an even more spacious chamber was used when entertaining.
Footmen filled wineglasses and served food that looked and smelled delicious, but Jane had little appetite. The inevitable discussion that loomed ahead weighed heavily on her mind as she watched Pip slip into an easy camaraderie with her uncles and grandmother. The Wallace’s were determinedly relaxed and playful, clearly endeavoring to put Pip at ease.
With a melancholy smile Jane watched the Duke patiently answer one of Pip’s endless questions. She noticed that his eyes crinkled at the corners as if he smiled often. Cameron Wallace was the epitome of cultured aristocratic elegance, all lithe limbs and patrician bone structure. There was no denying Rutledge was a handsome man, but Jane found his brother more compelling. His jaw line, nose, and cheekbones were starker, more ruthlessly cut. They were of similar height and coloring, but Lord Wallace was larger, less polished, more ruggedly male. She glanced at the Duke’s hands as he punctuated a comment with a languid wave of his wrist. Her focus shifted to Lord Wallace who was absently spinning his goblet by the stem. His hands were large with broad, blunt-tipped fingers, a light dusting of dark hair above his knuckles. Unbidden, images flashed through her mind of those hands spanning her waist, sliding up her back to tangle in her hair, cradling her head as he lowered his lips to hers. She shivered. His hand stilled and Jane looked up to find him watching her with a wicked grin and a speculative gleam in his eye.
Startled, Jane glanced away, a fevered blush painting her cheeks crimson. Good Lord! It was almost as if he knew exactly what she had been thinking! She took a sip of water and composed herself. By the time she worked up the courage to take another peek at him, he was smiling at something Pip had said and the uncomfortable moment was forgotten. After a few minutes, she convinced herself it had all been a figment of her imagination. But several times throughout the meal she looked up to find Lord Wallace’s cobalt blue eyes focused on her with an intensity that made her squirm.
“Look, Mama, hummingbirds!” Pip held up a silver teaspoon engraved with tiny birds, honeybees, and bamboo.
Jane reached out and cupped the child’s cheek affectionately with her palm.
“Wouldn’t that design be pretty on a wedding cake or petit fours for a garden party? Perhaps I will experiment with something tomorrow.”
“Oh yes! Can I help you? The bees would be ever so easy! We could make them from marzipan,” Pip squealed, bouncing up and down in her seat.
Jane exchanged a look with Lord Wallace and did not answer.
“This room is lovely, Your Grace,” she directed her comment to the duchess. “Were the artists from England? Or France, perhaps? The murals are excellent.”
“They were French. You like the room then, Miss Gray? I have thought about having it redecorated. The Oriental style was all the rage several years ago, but I have been told by more than one friend recently that it has become
très
outré
.”
“Oh no!” Pip cried. “It’s
très
charmant!
”
The duchess laughed, shocked to hear the foreign phrase spoken by Pip. “If you like it, then I will keep it exactly as it is,” she looked at her granddaughter warmly.
Finn’s eyebrows shot up. “You speak French, Pip?”
“
Un petit peu
,” she answered and Finn turned to Jane with an incredulous look.
“My mother was French and she refused to speak English to me at home,” she explained. “She insisted I learn her native tongue in order to converse with my French relatives. I’ve done the same with Pip, although I’m not as militant as mother was. It’s easiest to learn languages when one is young.”
Pip was still focused on the fate of the murals. “You aren’t going to change it, are you?” she implored.
“No, dear. If you like it, I’ll keep everything exactly as it is for as long as you want me to,” the duchess said.
Pip looked confused. “Because
I
like it? May I come to see it again some time?” The duchess smiled indulgently and nodded her head. “And may I play with the dolls, too?”
Jane decided to take the initiative.
“Pip, remember what I told you about your first mother?”
“The one who’s in heaven?”
From the corner of her eye Jane saw the duchess raise her hand to her mouth.
“Yes, the one in heaven.” The Duke and his brother went absolutely still.
“We came to visit today because I’ve learned these people are your other mother’s family. The duchess is your grandmother and Lord Wallace and His Grace are your uncles. They’re your family, Pip.”
Pip pressed a tiny hand to her chest. “
My
family?” She looked at the duchess skeptically then squinted at the two men across the table.
“Yes,” Jane said and debated for a moment how much more she should say.
Pip was frowning.
“What are you thinking, Poppet?” Jane asked softly.
“If they’re my family, why don’t I know them?” A logical question, but Pip would not be able to comprehend the truth for many years. Jane put it in terms a child could understand.
“You were lost and they didn’t know how to find you. They’ve been right here in this big, beautiful house hoping you would come home one day. It’s just like the fairytale I told you about the girl who thought she was a pauper but was really a princess.”
“But I’m not a princess and I haven’t been lost, Mama. I’ve been with you at Sugarmann’s.” Pip looked at the duchess uncertainly. The expression of pain and longing on the woman’s face was intense. Unnerved by the strong undercurrents in the room, Pip climbed into Jane’s lap, placed her palms on her cheeks, and asked, “When are we going home, Mama? I’m tired.”
How am I supposed to answer that?
Jane’s heart was breaking as she wrapped her arms around the child she had always thought of as her own. She hugged Pip close, and turned to Rutledge with pleading eyes. “Perhaps Pip could play with Jenny for a while longer in the garden, Your Grace? It would provide us with the opportunity to discuss… things.”
“Of course.” Rutledge glanced at a footman who promptly left the room in search of Jenny. She came in moments later to collect Pip.
“Wouldn’t you like to play with all those beautiful toys?” Jane asked. “I bet Jenny could show you more pretty rooms like this one. Is there a pianoforte?” It was presumptuous, but Jane made the suggestion anyway.
“What a splendid suggestion!” the duchess said.
Jane and Pip rubbed noses before Jenny escorted her from the room. She found herself alone in the room with people who had the power to separate her from the one person she loved more than any other. She took a si; of water then looked at the Duke.
“I’ll do whatever is best for Pip,” she said softly. “She deserves a life such as this.” Jane pressed her fingertips to her eyes, but tears spilled over anyway.
“Miss Gray, please.”
Jane felt someone press a handkerchief into her hand. An arm encircled her shoulder and she realized Lord Wallace was kneeling beside her chair. “There’s no need to be upset. We respect your place in Pip’s life,” he said.
“Finn is right. We owe you a deep debt of gratitude, one we’ll never be able to repay. We have no intention of severing your ties with Pip. It would be cruel to both of you.” The words, spoken in the Duke’s low, sedate voice, calmed her.
Jane sniffled and smiled wanly. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
The duchess came to a spontaneous, emotional decision. “Miss Gray, as Pip’s de facto mother, you will always have a place in her life. It is an odd situation we find ourselves in, but I have every confidence that we’ll work it out in time.”
Finn’s chest tightened. He was relieved his mother and brother felt as he did, that Miss Gray should have a role in Pip’s future.
“Would you like some time alone to compose yourself?” Cameron asked.
“No. I’ll be fine in a moment,” Jane said, sniffling quietly. Several moments passed then she dried her eyes, breathed deeply, and launched into a speech she had been preparing all day.
“It’s best to speak plainly, I think. If I had known about you, I would have brought Pip here right away, but Maura refused to tell me anything about her family. I confess that I never pushed because I believed she would confide in me when she was ready. Had I thought for one single moment that… that what happened would happen… I would have tried harder to gain her trust,” Jane began.
“We don’t blame you, Miss Gray,” Finn assured her. “You gave our sister and her child shelter. We are grateful she had you to turn to in a difficult time.”
“Thank you, my lord. We can’t change the past. Now we must turn to the future.” Jane forced herself to make eye contact with Rutledge.
“It seems you have accepted that Pip is your niece. Am I also correct in assuming you wish her to live here… that you wish to assume guardianship?”
Cameron nodded solemnly.
“There is no doubt that Carlisle House is the better home for her, but I believe it would be frightening for Pip if I left her here tonight with strangers. I’m the only mother she has ever known.”
“You’re right, of course,” Finn agreed, even though she had been addressing her words to Cameron.
Jane turned to him in relief. “Thank you.” She closed her eyes and exhaled, relaxing against her chair. “We must discuss how we can work together to make it less confusing for Pip. She is young enough to accept this new situation with few questions. If you prepare a room for her and invite us to stay, she won’t think it unusual if I do not. I’ll convince her it will be more fun to spend tomorrow with her new family while I work. I’ll return at the end of the day to spend a few hours with her. What do you think of this plan?”
“I think it would work quite well, Miss Gray,” the duchess said quietly.
Finn was impressed by Jane’s calm manner, the way she put the child’s welfare before her own.
“Miss Gray, I know this must be very difficult for you…” Finn began.
“Do you have children?” she interrupted.
“No,” Finn answered.
“And you, Your Grace. Have you children?” she asked the Duke.
“I do not.”
She turned to the duchess, a woman who had experienced the pain of losing a child. “Then you are the only one who could possibly comprehend how I feel.”
“I am sorry for what you are going through,” the duchess said.
“I will recover,” Jane lifted her chin. “I’ll always be grateful for the time I’ve spent with Pip. She is a special child. If we allow ourselves to be guided by what is best for her, then everything will come out well in the end. I would like to rejoin Pip now if I may. I imagine you have things to discuss amongst yourselves.”