Traded for Love (36 page)

“
Emily
.” There was a warning in his tone. “I hate that woman with every fiber of my being. I wish she
was
dead, and if I never saw here again, I would be happy. I'd prefer you don't see her, but knowing your stance on family, I'm aware you won't listen. As long as you play your part this weekend, I don't care what else you do. Am I clear?”

“I don't understand why you hate her.”

“I told you. It's a long story, one I don't want to tell. Just know that she's never done anyone any good and probably never will.” He walked off to the bathroom and shut himself inside.

Frowning, I went back to my luggage to begin getting ready. The garden party was beginning soon, and I had my role to play. Joanna would certainly be getting some of my attention, but I couldn't help but feel I was just a pawn in her attempt to annoy Jack.

But
why?
Who could hate his own mother? What had happened between them?

Less than an hour later, I was descending the stairs in a lace-overlaid, white evening gown.

I found myself alone, with no idea which way to go to find Mrs. Duncan—er—Joanna. Angler came around the corner with four people swarming him. He was giving directions to them all, and spoke fluent French to one of them.

“Uh, excuse me,” I stammered.

Angler held up a hand to halt the barrage of questions being fired at him. “Ah, Mrs. Duncan. What might I do for you?”

“I was looking for Mrs. Duncan—eh, Jack's mother.”

“I see. Mrs. Duncan is in the drawing room. I'll escort you myself.” Before I could refuse the kind gesture, he turned to his entourage. “Go back to the kitchen, I'll be there in a moment.” The quartet dissipated immediately. Angler smiled. “If you'll follow me, I'll show you the way.”

I blushed. “Thank you. That's kind of you.”

“It's my pleasure, ma'am.” He led the way and I followed blindly behind, my awe newly refreshed as we crossed through rooms and corridors.

He stopped in front of a set of double doors and knocked.

“Come in,” Joanna said from inside.

Angler stepped in. “Mrs. Duncan, Madam.”

Four couches were situated around a large coffee table. A bottle of amber liquor sat on its surface, gleaming in the firelight coming from the hearth.

“I like your gown. Who designed it?” she asked.

She had changed too, and was wearing an expensive-looking black silk number. It was classically cut but modern in its execution. A sparkling broach was pinned to a swag of material at her shoulder. The dress was audacious and a little much for a garden party, I thought.

“Um. Vera Wang,” I said, pacing across the room.

“White. What an interesting choice. It becomes you.”

I shuffled my feet. “Thank you.”

“Sit down.”

I obeyed, taking the sofa to her left. She sat up and poured an inch of liquid into the second glass. “Here. Drink this.” She handed me the glass.

“I don't really drink.” Nevertheless, I took what she offered.

“You'll want a drink before this party. Trust me.” She sipped her own drink.

I stared tentatively into the liquid and swirled it around.

She set down her empty cup. “Now, I'm sure you have lots of questions.”

“Yes. I was wondering why Jack never mentioned you before. It seems like he's not fond of you. Why is that?” I asked.

“You're so inquisitive.” She laughed and reached into her purse. From it she produced a gold case, opened it, and took out a cigarette. “Do you smoke?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Good girl. Never start.” She stuck the cigarette between her teeth and lit it with an elaborately detailed lighter.

“How did you meet my son?”

“I'm sorry, but you didn't answer any of my questions,” I interjected.

One of her sharply-angled brows lifted, then lowered as she smiled. “Well, Emily, I'll tell you. Jack was always a willful, spoiled child. When things didn't go his way, or he didn't understand something, he immediately rejected it.” Her gaze floated to the ceiling. “He formed his opinions of me at a very young age. And they haven't changed.” She ashed her cigarette in a silver tray. “So, you see, we have some fundamental differences between us, and unfortunately, they're irreconcilable.”

“Hm.” I stared at the carpet.

“Now that I've answered your questions, perhaps you'd be gracious enough to answer mine.” She took a long drag and watched me with apparent interest.

“Well … it's a funny story.” I laughed nervously. “Jack put out an ad … and I answered it.”

She scoffed. “Put out an ad.” She tossed her head back and laughed. “Of course he did.” She ashed her cigarette. “Do you love him?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Why?” I asked, fidgeting with my skirt.

“I don't believe my son has the ability to love anyone more than himself. I don't think it's his fault entirely. It's the job of a parent to make sure a child knows how to love properly. His father and I didn't do our job properly. We were too focused on moving up in the world.” She shrugged. “I suppose one has to make certain sacrifices in life, though nurturing my children was never one I consciously made.” She chuckled. “He'll have to get used to me being around now.”

“Why's that?”

“My husband's will stipulated that I receive his share of the company stock five years after his death. The anniversary of his death was last month and control of the company reverted to me.” She lifted her glass, then drained it.

“But … I thought Jack owned the company.”

“He owns a majority of the stock, but until I'm gone, he won't fully inherit the business. He is, however, head of the board of directors and does receive a substantial amount of money from the company's revenue.” She nodded. “This quarter wasn't so good for Duncan Enterprises, so I thought I should step in and …
help
him along.”

“His focus has slipped a little since he began his campaign. I suppose he could use the help,” I remarked. “I'm sorry you and Jack don't get along.” There was uncomfortable silence between us, then it occurred to me … “I don't suppose you know that you have a grandchild.”

“A grandchild? Jack, a father? I'd only heard about you, I'm afraid. Why don't you tell me about him?” She leaned on her elbow, which was braced against the armrest of the couch.

“She,” I corrected happily. “Her name is Katherine Adele.”

“Very pretty.” She smiled. “My great-grandmother's name was Adele.”

“Oh really?” I chuckled. “What a coincidence.” Now the words came freely, as if I'd known Joanna for a long time. I talked about how even at a young age, Katherine was beginning to show her personality. I described her preferences and dislikes, her quirks.

“She sound just like Jack at that age.” She refilled her glass.

We heard people passing in the hall.

“I should go. I think the party is starting soon.” I set down my untouched drink.

“I'll join you. I know some of the guests.”

We hooked arms and strolled down the hall to the back of the house. On the back terrace, uniformed staff were manning tables and stands laid out with cocktails and food of all shapes and sizes. I sampled a few pastries and drank some quite bubbly champagne.

Joanna knew more than just
some
of the people in the assembly. She knew
most
of them. She introduced me to new supporters I hadn't previously known and taught me new things about those I'd briefly met in the past. By the time we'd walked the length of the garden, I had dirt on just about everyone there.

No one could say Joanna Duncan wasn't a shrewd, calculating woman. Jack had inherited that trait. He was there too, sulking at the far side of the garden. Once in a while, he faked a smile for constituents and talked briefly with them. But as soon as they'd walk away, he was sipping his wine and glaring.

Crossing in front of him, I saw Mr. Dowes, a campaign contributor I'd met at the museum opening. He apparently knew Joanna well and came up to greet us both. His bald head was shiny, and like many of the rich men in the crowd, he carried a few extra pounds.

“I've just had the most amazing macaroons!” he exclaimed. “You
must
come and have one.” He all but dragged us to a covered booth.

And there he was.

Drake.

My breath caught as we locked eyes. The heat between us was so intense that we both seemed frozen in the moment.

“What else have you got here?” Mr. Dowes said, wiggling his pudgy fingers at the platters. Drake was so fixated on me that he missed Dowes' question. “I see that you're mesmerized by our gorgeous host, here.”

Finally Drake snapped out of it. “No. I mean … yes. She's very beautiful.” He averted his gaze and pretended to straighten a tray. “We have some macaroons, fresh croissants, brownies and these are mini beef wellington.”

“Are those salted caramel cookies?” Joanna asked, reaching out and taking one. “I don't usually partake, but I don't think I can resist these.”

Drake smiled at me. “Yes, they are.”

I grinned and took one for myself.

“Your son did an excellent job with the decisions … ” Dowes' voice trailed off as he strolled away with Joanna in tow.

“I didn't know you were going to be here.” I used a napkin to wipe the crumbs from my fingers.

“Your husband's company hired us,” Drake pointed out.

“I'm glad they did.” I was grinning like an idiot now.

Just as things were warming up between us, I saw Chastity come into view. She was carrying a set of stacking trays in her hands. “Hm. I didn't mean that
us
meant her, too.”

Drake peered over his shoulder. “Yeah. I know you don't like her, but I had to bring her. She knows all the recipes by heart and is pretty good at delegating, so I can stay here.”

“I see.” I crossed my arms casually. “Well, I think I'll be going now.”

“Here's the man of the hour!” Dowes' voice came from behind me. “Mr. Duncan
has
to try one of those mini beef wellingtons you were talking about.”

Dowes came up beside us. Joanna had apparently excused herself and had been replaced by Jack. I'd never seen a more disappointed, annoyed, uncomfortable man than my husband at that moment.

“I'm sorry. I'm saving room for dinner,” Jack apologized.

“Nonsense! Have one!” Dowes insisted, loading some dainties onto a plate, and passing it to Jack, who received it, but didn't eat from it.

Chastity arrived at the stall and set the tray on a rack behind Drake. Immediately Jack's eyes were on her. She went about her work as though he weren't even there.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Duncan?” Dowes asked.

“I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm not very hungry.” He left the plate on the table and stormed off.

I was sorry for him. I assumed being around two people he didn't like was hard for him. I was displeased with Chastity being there as well. She seemed to have been injected suddenly into our lives, and there was very little to nothing I could do about it.

Chastity touched Drake's arm gently. “I'll go back for the rest of the wellingtons.”

“Thank you,” Drake answered. Dowes commanded much of his attention, asking questions about the macaroon flavors.

I eyeballed Chastity as she walked off. Maybe there
was
something I could do about it …

“Excuse me a moment,” I said to Joanna and her strolling partner.

I set off in a brisk walk. She neared the house and tucked in one of the service entrances. I managed to catch the door before it closed.

“Chastity.”

She turned slowly. “What can I do for you ma'am?”

I frowned. “I don't know what you've done to my husband, but whatever it was made him angry. I want you to leave him alone.”

She smiled unexpectedly. “You know, until now, I figured you to be kind of spineless. That's the way he describes you, anyway.” She sized me up. “He doesn't give you enough credit. It took a lot of courage for you to come in here and fight for him.”

I talked myself down from being enraged. “You're wrong. Courage is something you need to confront a fear. But I'm not afraid of you.”

“Oh, you're afraid, alright. You think I'm going to take him away from you.” She chuckled. “How long do you suppose Jack and I have been seeing each other? Weeks?” I didn't answer. “It's been months,” she explained.

I felt faint in the face of what she'd told me but was able to steady myself. “So
you
were the other woman. He told me there were two.”

“I suppose the other one was Julia.” She ticked her head to the side. “Poor thing never had a chance. It appears I'm the one that stuck.”

“Well stop sticking. Leave him alone. He's a married man.” I narrowed my eyes at her.

“And you're a married woman.” She chuckled. “Tell me, what's your interest in Drake?”

I choked on my indignation. “I was
ordered
to be with him. Jack is my Master and I do as he tells me.”

“
Was
it just because you were ordered?” She reached out and set a hand on my shoulder. Her touch burned me like a brand. “I've seen the way you look at him,” she continued. “You're in love with him. Have you told him yet?”

My mouth fell open. “I … I'm not in love with D—Drake.”

She grinned. This was
amusing
to her. I wanted to strangle the little wench! “Jack's done quite a number on you hasn't he?” For a moment I thought I saw pity in her eyes. “I'm not good at relating my feelings. It's not in my nature. But I should tell you, I believe that we all come into each other's lives for a reason. There are deeper reasons why this is happening. There are things I know about you … things that you think are secret.”

My heart stopped. “Secret? I don't have any secrets,” I insisted.

“We all have secrets, sweetheart.” She stroked my forehead and I wanted to shrink from the soft touch, but it was surprisingly soothing. “I can see that things haven't gone the way you wanted. You wanted a happy ending with Prince Charming. You thought Jack was that prince, but he turned out to be the Devil.” She nodded slowly. “You're too sweet for him. You're too obedient. You're a true princess, and you deserve your happy ending.”

I finally found the strength to break away and step back. “I don't know what you're talking about.”