The Shocking Secret of a Guest at the Wedding (Millworth Manor) (19 page)

“You have my heartiest congratulations and my blessing.”

“Thank you.” Jack tried to pull his hands away but the older woman held fast.

“I cannot wait to announce your engagement.”

“No.” Panic shone in Theodosia’s eyes.

“Not quite yet,” Jack said quickly.

Lady Sallwick frowned and dropped his hands. “Why on earth not?”

“Well . . .” Theodosia nodded at her mother. “Explain it to her, Jack.”

“Very well.” Explain what? “It’s really quite simple.” He struggled for an acceptable reason. Or any reason.

“Yes?” Lady Sallwick’s brow arched upward.

“An announcement at this time would be, oh, premature,” Jack said.

“I assumed that much. What I don’t understand is why.” Suspicion sounded in the older woman’s voice.

“It just seems best to me . . .” he began. “To us that is . . .”

“Yes?” Lady Sallwick prompted.

“Well . . .”

“Out with it, Mr. Channing.”

“Yes, Jack.” Theodosia’s tone was pleasant enough but there was a distinct gleam of revenge in her eyes. “Out with it. After all, my mother deserves to know the truth.”

“And I wouldn’t dream of keeping it from her.” At once the answer struck him. “Or any mother, for that matter. Lady Sallwick, as a mother, surely you can understand why we don’t want to announce our engagement to the world until I am able to inform my own mother and the rest of my family. As she and my grandfather reside in New York, and given the slow nature of mail between our two countries, it will take several weeks. So you can see why I am reluctant to announce our engagement publicly until I hear from my family.”

“Very good, Jack,” Theodosia said under her breath and favored him with an admiring smile. “Nicely done.”

“You do have a point, I suppose,” Lady Sallwick said.

“Beyond that, my aunt, Lady Briston, is planning a grand ball on New Year’s Eve to, well, introduce me to their friends and society as a whole I suppose. In fact, Theodosia is handling the arrangements.”

“A coming-out party of sorts.” Lady Sallwick nodded. “Excellent idea.” She glanced at her daughter. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“My apologies, Mother.” Theodosia shrugged. “I thought I had.”

“I would have remembered if you had. Goodness, it isn’t every day a new heir—”

“And it did seem to
us
,” Jack continued, “that there would be no better time than that to announce our engagement.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Lady Sallwick thought for a moment, then nodded. “That would be most appropriate and completely unexpected. It would add a lovely element of surprise to the evening. People would talk about it for months. It would certainly go a long way toward everyone’s acceptance of you as well. Why, I think it’s a splendid idea. Simply splendid.”

“Thank you,” Jack said modestly. “But it was Theodosia’s idea.”

“Excellent plan, my dear girl.” Lady Sallwick cast her daughter an affectionate smile. “But then I always knew you were a clever child.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Theodosia said wryly.

“Now then, I believe I shall retire for the evening.” Lady Sallwick heaved a weary sigh. “It’s been a most exhausting day what with all the surprises, good and bad.”

“Oh, then Simon’s visit was a surprise?” Theodosia asked.

“Of course it was.” Her mother shrugged. “Oh certainly, I’ve been inviting the man to come for some time but I had no idea he would make an appearance today.”

“That together with the fire,” Jack began.

“And don’t forget the flood,” Theodosia added.

“I would never forget the flood.” Her mother sniffed. “The flood was the worst of it. All that . . . water.”

Theodosia glanced at Jack and he resisted the urge to grin. It was obvious neither of them believed her mother.

“Ah well. If Simon had come when I first invited him perhaps things would be different now but I can’t say I’m disappointed. And he may well be right.” Lady Sallwick cast them a brilliant smile. “Perhaps things do have a tendency to work out the way they are supposed to in the end after all.” She nodded and started back up the stairs. “I shall leave the two of you to say good night.” She glanced back at them over her shoulder. “You are leaving now are you not, Mr. Channing?”

“I was on my way out the door when you arrived.”

“See that you remain on that path.” She continued up the stairs. “Good evening, Mr. Channing.”

“Good evening, Lady Sallwick.”

Theodosia’s gaze followed her mother. “She didn’t used to be like this,” she said softly. “Before Father died she was really quite pleasant and oh, easygoing I suspect is the right term for it, even a bit flighty. She never seemed to have a care in the world. Now, she feels the need to control everything around her, especially me.”

“
Extremis malis extrema remedia,
” Jack said quietly.

“Extreme remedies for extreme ills? Desperate measures for desperate times?” Theodosia nodded, then her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by desperate times? Our times are certainly not desperate.”

“Maybe they are for her, with your father dead and the loss of the family title. Her life, her expectations changed entirely. That would be enough to scare anyone, I would think.” He shrugged. “Perhaps all she wants is for her life to return to the way it was.”

“Unfortunately, the only way to get what she wants is for me to make an appropriate match.” Her tone hardened. “I have no intention of marrying at all let alone simply to better our lot in life. Nor am I a prize to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.”

“Oh, but you are.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “A prize, that is.”

“And I thought I was a gift.”

“You are both a gift and a prize.”

“Goodness, Jack.” She pulled her hand from his. “Don’t think you can charm your way out of this.”

He gasped in feigned dismay. “I would never . . .” He grinned. “Is it working?”

“Perhaps a little.” A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“Ah well, then.” He shook his head in a mournful manner. “I shall have to do better.”

She laughed, then shook her head. “At least you have bought us some time.”

“Time?”

“To come up with a way out of this mess and do it without gossip and scandal. I have managed to avoid scandal thus far in my life but it hasn’t been entirely easy.” She shuddered. “And I really would prefer not to lose another fiancé, thank you very much.”

“Another what?”

“It’s not important at the moment.” She waved off his question. “What’s important is that the New Year is still five weeks away.”

He drew his brows together. “I’m not sure I like my fiancée calling our engagement a mess.”

“Nor would I if it was a real engagement preceded by a genuine proposal. As it is not . . .” She shrugged.

“Of course not.” He ignored an immediate stab of something that might have been disappointment. Or regret. “I shall see you tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow? Oh no.” She shook her head. “That will never do. Not with my mother here. She’ll be watching us like a bird of prey ready to pounce on a field mouse.”

“Then I shall play the dutiful fiancé,” he said staunchly. “We do have to decide on a course of action. Perhaps we could go for a stroll in the park?”

“It is dreadfully cold and wet for a walk in the park.”

“Well then . . .” He thought for a moment. “An inside stroll at the British Museum perhaps. Or a gallery.”

“Not a bad idea, really,” she said thoughtfully. “It’s not at all unusual for me to go to a gallery or museum in the afternoon without benefit of a chaperone. But I don’t know . . .”

“We do have to convince your mother we are a legitimately engaged couple.”

“I suppose but . . .”

“Besides, you did promise me your assistance and I still don’t know my dukes from my counts.”

“England has no counts,” she said dryly.

“See? I need your help.”

“Apparently.” She nodded. “Very well then, Jack, tomorrow it is. And tonight I shall try to come up with a way to dissolve our engagement before it all gets out of hand.”

“And we wouldn’t want that.”

“No,” she said firmly, “we would not.”

He leaned closer and spoke softly in her ear. “I would kiss you again if I wasn’t concerned that your mother might appear at the top of the stairs at any moment and demand that I marry you at once.”

“Why, isn’t that the most interesting thing, Jack.” She turned her head and gazed into his eyes, her lips close to his. “Even with my mother at the top of the stairs, I am fairly certain I would kiss you back.”

His gaze slipped to her lips and the memory of how delicious they felt against his washed through him. “I do hate to miss that.”

“As do I.”

“I should go.”

“I believe you said that earlier this evening and yet here you are.”

“I know.” He studied her for a moment. “It appears I find it remarkably difficult to leave you.”

“Oh.” The word was little more than a sigh. “My . . .”

“And yet . . .”

“And yet . . .” She drew a steadying breath and took a step back. “Good evening, Jack.”

“Good evening, Theodosia.” He smiled and again picked up his bags.

She opened the door and he stepped out into the night.

“Jack.”

He turned back to her. “Yes?”

“I didn’t need to be rescued but thank you for doing so nonetheless.”

He grinned. “It was entirely my pleasure.”

“I know.” She smiled and closed the door.

Jack inhaled the cold, sharp air and grinned. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep what was obviously a ridiculous, self-satisfied grin off his face. Why, one might think he was actually engaged to the magnificent Lady Theodosia Winslow.

In truth, he was practically, almost engaged to Miss Lucinda Merryweather. His step faltered. No, given all she said to him he had every right to consider himself free. Still, he should make certain he had not misunderstood. He would write to Lucy at once.

In the meantime, he was the fraudulent fiancé of the most fascinating woman he’d ever met. She was an intriguing mix of stubborn self-reliance and concern for propriety. She was indeed an adventure and for one moment, whether she admitted it or not, he’d been her hero. It was enough to make any man grin like an idiot. Even though they were now both in an awkward situation fraught with all sorts of complications and the possibility of scandal, he didn’t care. He was thoroughly enjoying himself and he would be her hero again if necessary. There was something about coming to the rescue of the fair Theodosia that was exhilarating and exciting and . . . right.

He did indeed have a great deal to be thankful for tonight.

Even if some of it wasn’t entirely real.

The following day,
The British Museum . . .

 

 

 

“. . . and so,” Teddy continued, “I do think this is the best course. We continue this farce of an engagement until after Christmas and then—”

“Christmas?” Jack slanted a thoughtful look at her. “I’d almost forgotten about Christmas.”

“Nonsense, how can you possibly forget about Christmas?”

“I don’t know.” He smiled and turned his attention back to perusal of the sculpture of some Egyptian deity or king or a rat catcher for all Teddy knew or cared. She suspected he hadn’t forgotten at all. He struck her as the kind of man who would use Christmas as the perfect excuse for extravagant and delightful surprises. Even if she wasn’t really his fiancée, it was a lovely idea.

She and Jack had been wandering the Egyptian galleries at the British Museum for a good half an hour now but it was nearly impossible to drag the man’s attention away from remnants of a long-dead civilization to discuss the very pressing matters of the here and now. She had no idea bankers were so fascinated by antiquities but then she suspected Jack was not a typical banker. No, he was the son of the dashing, adventurous Colonel Channing and with every passing day, the similarities in mannerisms and character between father and son grew stronger. She had no idea if Jack was actually changing or if his father’s influence was bringing a part of himself long buried at last to the surface.

“Christmas is a month from today, Jack, and you do need to give it some attention.”

“Do I?”

“Of course you do.” She huffed. “You are staying in England for Christmas, unless you’ve changed your mind.”

“No, I intend to stay until the New Year.” He moved away from a huge granite torso of Ramses II, according to the placard, to a black granite seated figure, apparently also of Ramses II.

“Have you given any thought to gifts for the family? Or at least for your father?”

“I have no idea what to give a father for Christmas.” He shook his head. “Do you?”

A thought struck her and she stared at him. “Have you written to your mother that you’ll be here for Christmas?”

“I think so.” He shrugged. “I really can’t recall.”

“Jackson Channing.” She resisted the urge to stamp her foot. “What on earth is wrong with you today?”

“Nothing that I can think of. Why? Have you noticed something?”

“Yes! You haven’t paid a bit of attention to anything I’ve said. Furthermore, you’re not behaving at all like the rational, responsible banker that you are.”

“You mean the stodgy, straitlaced banker that I am.”

She ignored him. “Instead you’re acting like a—”

His brow rose. “Like a what?”

“I don’t know exactly but it’s most disconcerting.”

He chuckled. “My apologies then.” He paused. “I’m simply in excellent spirits at the moment. My father tried to hide it but it was obvious that he was pleased by my return last night.” He glanced at her. “I have you to thank for that.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

“And he has promised not to occupy my every waking moment. I have yet to hear from my mother.” He cast her a chiding look. “And while I haven’t written to her directly, I have written to my grandfather as is the responsible thing to do.”

“Good.”

“Furthermore, as you have reminded me, Christmas is only a month away. I have always loved Christmas.”

“Everyone loves Christmas, Jack. I would be quite disappointed in you if you didn’t.”

They moved to the next ancient sculpture, yet another depiction of Ramses II.

“I used to write to him at Christmas. My father, that is.”

She started. “But you thought he was dead.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“I thought it was Father Christmas children wrote to.”

“No, in that you English are wrong. They write to Santa Claus,” he said firmly, then paused as if debating whether to continue. “When I was very young I began writing to my father at Christmas instead of Santa Claus. No one ever talked about my father, you see. He was never mentioned. In my mind, he was every bit as mythical and magical as Santa. So I started writing to him.” He chuckled. “Even as I grew older and knew how silly it was, I would write, one letter a year. Telling him about my life, what I had done in the past year, what I was thinking, what I wanted. I would catalog an entire year in that letter. It became my own private Christmas tradition. My life is chronicled in those letters.” A self-conscious smile quirked a corner of his lips. “I said it was silly.”

“It’s not the least bit silly. It’s quite touching and very sweet,” she said softly. Her heart twisted for the little boy who wrote to a father he never knew. “And this will be your first Christmas together.”

“I am both looking forward to it and a little apprehensive. As a boy, I always wanted to have a father for Christmas. Now that I do, well . . .” He blew a long breath. “I’ve never told anyone about those letters.” His brow furrowed and he considered her curiously, as if she were a puzzle he was trying to solve. “You do make me say the oddest things.”

She stared at him for a moment, then grinned. “Excellent.”

He laughed. There was something about the way the man laughed that melted her heart and warmed her soul. Utter nonsense, of course.

“Now then, Jack, we need to—”

“I am well aware of what we need to do but at the moment, I am thoroughly enjoying the lost treasures of one of the greatest civilizations man has ever known.” He took her hand and tucked it in the crook of his arm. “With my beautiful fiancée by my side. What man wouldn’t be in excellent spirits?”

“I am not your fiancée,” she said firmly, but smiled all the same. “And about that, we do need to decide on a plan.”

“Do we? And I thought you already had.” He chuckled and they moved to the next granite statue of Ramses II.

“Goodness, Jack.” She frowned at the ancient work. “Is Ramses II the only king worthy of acknowledgement?”

He laughed. “No, but he is regarded as one of the greatest rulers in Egyptian history. Didn’t they teach you that at Miss Bicklesham’s?”

“Probably, but it’s obviously slipped my mind. I am far more concerned with what is happening in London today than in Egypt thousands of years ago. And I do wish you would be more concerned about it as well.” She cast him an accusing frown. “You haven’t paid the least bit of attention to anything I’ve said.”

“On the contrary, my dear Theodosia.” He directed his words to her but continued to study the figure of the dead king before them, as if Ramses II had the answer to questions Jack had yet to ask. “You said we should continue to behave as if we are engaged until Christmas. You further said I should give you a Christmas gift that is entirely wrong for you, which would be the beginning of the end as it would indicate we scarcely know each other well enough to marry.” He glanced at her. “Quite shallow of you really to discard me simply because I choose the wrong gift.”

“I can be extremely shallow or at least I used to be,” she said. “Besides, I can’t think of anything else. In very many ways you are perfect for me. If I was interested in marriage,” she added quickly.

“So . . .” He glanced at her. “What exactly might I give you that would be entirely wrong?”

“Anything to do with birds.” She shivered. “I realize it makes no sense but all that flocking and gathering and watching. I find them rather . . . ominous.”

“Birds?”

“Yes,” she said firmly. “And I detest feathers, specifically peacock feathers. I know they’re very popular on hats and fans and whatnot but I can’t abide them.” She leaned close and lowered her voice. “When I was very young, I got the absurd image of a featherless peacock in my head, I’m still not sure how. A large, angry, featherless peacock. I swear whenever I see one of those birds it looks as though it is plotting revenge on all those women foolish enough to wear feathers they have no right to.”

“Peacock feathers it is then.” He grinned. “So to continue on with your plan, in the days after Christmas we begin with little disputes, small disagreements, minor things that build until, the day of the ball, we tell your mother we have had a change of heart and have decided we do not suit after all.”

She stared. “You were listening to me.”

“Every word.” He chuckled. “But I do have a question. It might even be a flaw in your plan.”

She scoffed. “I doubt that.”

“What happens then?”

“When?”

“After you and I end our engagement, won’t your mother still try to convince you to marry Simon?”

“Probably.” Her jaw tightened. “But I have no intention . . .” She turned and met his gaze firmly. “You told me your secret.”

“Did I?” Caution sounded in his voice.

She nodded. “About the letters to your father.”

“Yes, of course,” he murmured.

“May I tell you a secret of mine?”

“I can’t think of anything I’d like better than to hear your secrets.” A wicked twinkle shone in his eye.

“No doubt,” she said under her breath and led him to a marble bench along one wall of the gallery. She sat down and gestured for him to join her.

“When my father died . . .” This was harder than she’d thought. Dee was the only other person who knew this and even she didn’t know all the details surrounding her father and her late fiancé’s illicit financial dealings. There were some things one didn’t tell even one’s closest friend. But Jack was remarkably easy to talk to and it seemed, well, right to confide in him. She wasn’t sure why she knew that and preferred not to question it. Still, it wasn’t easy. She clasped her hands together in her lap. “After his death, I discovered he had been deeply embroiled in something rather unsavory. An investment of sorts that went horribly awry. Exposure was apparently imminent. If his heart hadn’t failed when it did . . .” She shuddered. “He might well have gone to prison. If there was anything fortunate about his death it’s that it ended any further investigation and any possibility of scandal.” She smiled weakly. “But then Father always did appreciate a twist at the end of a play.”

Father hadn’t been a bad sort, a villain, as far as she knew but then she hadn’t really known him as anything other than a kind but distant figure. Of course, it would have been different had she been born male. How very ironic that the girl her father seemed to have little use for was now responsible for cleaning up the mess he had left behind. And wouldn’t he have loved that particular twist?

She drew a calming breath and continued. “I’m not sure if he had financial difficulties before his involvement or if his situation was the end result. It scarcely matters now, I suppose. There were debts as well. The consequences of all this are that . . . well . . .” She drew a deep breath. “We were left, not entirely penniless, we did keep the house in London, but other than that . . .” She wrinkled her nose. “Penniless is as good a word as any and more accurate than most.”

“I see.”

“So, my mother’s and my little enterprise is indeed a business but one that would never survive if society realized that we needed the income. That we weren’t just dilettantes playing a game of commerce in our spare moments. Our commissions would vanish.” She shook her head. “Poverty, Jack, is a very great sin here among people with titles and power, even greater than scandal. But scandal too would destroy us.”

He nodded.

“While my mother has yet to face the fact that our world as we knew it is gone forever, I have recently accepted that life will never be as I expected it. And I believe it’s time to embrace my new life.” She raised her chin. “I am a woman of business, Jack. An independent woman of business. And while it wouldn’t be at all wise for me to acknowledge that publicly, I have at last acknowledged it to myself. I intend to stand on my own two feet and make my fortune with my business. And I further intend to be the most exclusive and successful planner of wedding and society events in England.”

“To prove to the world that you can?”

“No, to prove it to myself.” She searched for the right words. “A woman like myself is raised with certain expectations. That ultimately she will be a good wife, a good hostess, a good mother, a good Lady Whomever. Her training and education is with those goals in mind. No one, including herself, imagines for even a moment that she might deviate from the course set for her. So she does tend to question if that which is expected of her is all she is able to do. And . . .” Her tone hardened. “I need to know that I can indeed accomplish what I have set out to do.”

“I see.” He nodded. “There’s more though, isn’t there?”

She nodded. “Last night I gave this a great deal of thought along with our predicament. Given the events I have scheduled between now and the end of the year, and including my fee for coordinating your aunt’s ball, I shall finally be able to pay off the last of Father’s creditors. Fortunately, those who lend credit or money to the aristocracy in this country are quite patient and discreet as long as one makes regular payments. You have no idea what a sense of freedom just the thought brings to me.”

“I can imagine.”

“I don’t believe you really can but thank you for the sentiment. Once Father’s debts are no longer hanging over us, my mother might give up her quest to find me a perfect match. Or at least temper it. I have accepted that our lives have changed. Now she has to. And then, while I still have no intention of allowing the world as a whole to know the truth of my business, I intend to put my foot down with my mother. About marriage and my future.” She cast him a wry smile. “I’m not sure one can be an independent woman without standing up to one’s mother.”

He considered her thoughtfully but didn’t say a word.

“Well?” she said at last.

“Well,” he said slowly. “I was wondering if you were going to tell me.”