Utterly Devoted (21 page)

Portia flinched, but her stepmother nodded, leaning back in the chair with obvious satisfaction. “That is exactly what I desire as well,” Mrs. Sinclair said.

Eloise smiled. “Good. Then you will not mind telling us when last your stepdaughter saw Major Churchill.”

She blinked, paling. “Major Churchill? I am certain I do not remember. What has he to do with anything?”

Eloise watched the girl. “He is the father, is he not, Portia?”

Mrs. Sinclair surged to her feet. “How dare you! Do you call my dear girl a liar?”

“No,” Eloise said quietly. “But I’m not entirely certain about you.”

The woman sputtered, but Eloise rose to kneel beside the girl. “Tell the truth, Portia. We will see that you are cared for, I promise.”

While Mrs. Sinclair called down imprecations, Portia’s gaze darted from face to face as if afraid to hope for a receptive audience. For a moment Eloise thought she might brazen it out. Then she hung her head.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Major Churchill is the father.”

Jareth grinned, but one look at Eloise’s frown made him swallow it.

“You forced her to say that!” Mrs. Sinclair declared, moving to Portia’s other side. “Portia, I demand you tell them the truth.”

Portia’s lower lip trembled, but she refused to meet her stepmother’s outraged gaze. “I did tell the truth.”

Eloise took Portia’s hands in hers, ignoring the angered woman beside them. “I know you did, Portia. That was the hardest part. The next is easier. Has Major Churchill refused to accept responsibility?”

“Stop this at once!” Mrs. Sinclair demanded. She pushed against Eloise, knocking her off balance. She started to fall, only to feel Jareth’s arms around her.

“Touch her again,” he said to Mrs. Sinclair, “and I will not be responsible for my actions.”

Eloise could not see his face, but it must have been magnificent, for Mrs. Sinclair blanched and stumbled back to her seat. In front of Eloise, Portia swallowed.

“Major Churchill said he wished to marry me,” she said, voice gaining confidence with each word, “but his detachment was recalled to duty. I sent him a note when I realized I was with child, but he never responded. I could not let my child be born a bastard.”

“Of course not,” Eloise soothed.

“Particularly when I provided you such an easy solution,” Jareth murmured behind her.

Eloise squeezed his hand on her shoulder in warning, but Portia sighed.

“I am sorry, Mr. Darby. I did try to set the blame on you. My stepmother insisted on it.”

Jareth rose from behind Eloise. “A Darby is worth a great deal more than a half-pay officer, isn’t that true, Mrs. Sinclair?”

The woman glowered at him, but Portia shook her head.

“Do not be angry with her, Mr. Darby. She was certain my father would be furious if my state became known.”

Eloise was sure Jareth could have argued the point, but he wisely reseated himself.

“You were my only hope,” Portia told him, gray eyes solemn. “Thank you for being willing to help.”

He nodded. “Always willing to help a lady in distress, Miss Sinclair. Provided, of course, she does not attempt to inflict that distress on others.”

She puckered, but nodded as well. “But what can we do?”

“A great deal,” Eloise said, rising. “Miss Sinclair, I am going to reunite you with Major Churchill.”

“Will you allow me to say nothing in this matter?” Mrs. Sinclair demanded.

“You, madam,” Jareth declared, “have forfeited any right to say a word, as far as I’m concerned.”

She glowered at him, but apparently realizing that she had lost any leverage in the situation, she lapsed into silence.

“How can you reunite me with Major Churchill?” Portia said to Eloise. “He may no longer want me. He may refuse to do his duty.”

“Then we will find somewhere for you to have the baby in quiet,” Cleo put in. “My husband is very powerful, Miss Sinclair. You need have no fears. You can live a perfectly normal life in a small town, you and the baby.”

“Alone?” Her lower lip trembled.

“Only if necessary,” Eloise assured her. “We three will stand by you. Won’t we?”

Cleo nodded. Eloise looked at Jareth. She wondered whether the Darby pride would bend in this instance. Surely that would bode well for their future together. Her heart swelled when she saw him nod as well.

“No woman should have to bear a child alone, Miss Sinclair,” he said. “You may count on my support, if not my name.”

The tears fell. “You are all too kind,” she murmured.

Cleo rose to take her in her arms. “There, there, now, Miss Sinclair. It will all come right, you’ll see.”

Jareth touched Eloise’s hand, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Do you know?” he said as she basked in the appreciation in his eyes. “I begin to believe it just might at that.”

There was a rap at the door, and, at Eloise’s command, Bryerton entered. “A gentleman here to see you, Miss Watkin. A Major Churchill. He appears to be quite upset. I dared not let him beyond the entry.”

Portia hastily stiffened away from Cleo, wiping her cheeks with her sleeve. “Oh no! He’s here? He mustn’t see me like this!”

“Give us a moment, Bryerton,” Eloise instructed, recognizing the girl’s need. “Then I think you can safely bring him to us.”

As her butler left, Mrs. Sinclair rose. “I refuse to be a party to these proceedings. You are leading my stepdaughter astray. Portia, if you agree to go along with this charade, I wash my hands of you.”

Eloise went to Portia, helping her rise. With Cleo on one side and Eloise on the other, Eloise hoped the girl would find the strength to stand up to the woman. Portia bit her lip, but she squared her shoulders.

“I’m sorry, madam, but I must do what is right for me and my child.”

Mrs. Sinclair stalked from the room. Eloise gave Portia a squeeze.

“Standing up for yourself gets easier every time you do it, doesn’t it?” she said with a smile.

Portia’s smile was watery. “Yes, it does, Miss Watkin. But I still do not know whether I can face Major Churchill.”

“You must face him,” Eloise told her, “whatever his decision. Believe me in this. If you do not, he will haunt you the rest of your life.”

Portia nodded, sniffing back tears. A moment later and Bryerton ushered in the major. As Eloise remembered from seeing him at Almack’s, he was tall, handsome, and powerfully built. She suspected she would have been just as tempted once as Portia must have been. He took in Eloise, Cleo, and Jareth with a frown of confusion. Then his gaze lit on Portia. He rushed forward to take her hands.

“Miss Sinclair, how glad I am to see you here! I was told you were in danger. I came as quickly as I could. What’s happened?”

“Oh, Rufus!” Portia fell into his arms, sobbing. The tender way he held her told Eloise everything she needed to know. She motioned to Cleo and Jareth, and the three of them tiptoed from the room.

Chapter Twenty-two

In the corridor, Jareth shook his head. “So, Major Churchill wasn’t a scoundrel either.”

“It appears not,” Eloise agreed with a smile. “We shall know for sure when they bid us return.”

“If I recognized that look in his eye,” Jareth said, “we will not be invited back anytime soon.”

Cleo sighed with obvious pleasure. “A job well done, my friends.”

“Friends?” Jareth raised a brow. “Do you count me as a friend, Lady Hastings?”

“I believe I do, Mr. Darby,” she replied. “Until you give me reason to do otherwise.”

“Heaven forbid,” he said with a laugh. “I have already had a taste of your barbed contempt.”

Cleo cringed at the pun. Eloise laughed.

“And you, Miss Watkin?” he challenged. “Do you see me as a friend as well?”

Eloise batted her lashed at him. “Oh, no, Mr. Darby. I am certain you are ever so much more than a friend.”

“Quite right,” he replied. Then he seized her in his arms and set about proving it to her.

“Mr. Darby!” Cleo cried in mock censure. “I may not have a pitchfork, but there is a vase handy if you persist in this demonstration.”

He raised his lips from Eloise’s but kept her safely in his arms. “You will need a cannon this time, madam. Miss Watkin may have accepted my ring, but she has yet to tell me that she will truly marry me. I vow I will not release Miss Watkin until she has agreed to be my wife.”

“Oh, but you make the choice difficult, sir,” Eloise teased with a wink to Cleo. “Stay in your arms forever or become your wife? Can I endure such consequences? What if I choose both?”

“Done,” Jareth proclaimed, and he went back to kissing her as Cleo clapped in delight. She then behaved just as a good friend ought and found something to busy herself with at the far end of the corridor.

As for Eloise, she found there was nowhere she would rather be than in Jareth’s arms. He was obviously not as reformed as he liked to pretend, for his kisses were decidedly not what a gentleman should be giving a lady, even his affianced bride. She decided, however, that she didn’t mind in the slightest. Perhaps she had not changed as much as she had thought either. In this area of her life, she rather hoped she never would.

When he at last released her, she could only smile at him in what she was certain must be a most besotted fashion. He looked just as pleased with the matter. “Then you forgive me?” he asked as if to make sure. “You do not require any more tests?”

“No,” she replied. “I forgive you, and I forgive myself. That last part was far more difficult, I assure you.”

He cocked his head. “And just what did you need forgiveness for?”

“For doubting you. For doubting my father and friends. For doubting myself. You have taught me a great deal, my love.”

He chuckled. “Not nearly as much as you’ve taught me, I’d wager.”

“What?” she challenged. “A mere slip of a girl teach a Darby anything?”

His arms tightened so that he might nuzzle her neck. “You taught me about true love,” he murmured in her ear before planting a kiss there. “That there is far more to this,” he illustrated with another kiss, “than simply the joining of two bodies. That I must not let my pride get in the way of that love.”

She snuggled against him, well pleased with herself at the thought.

“And you will marry me?” he murmured as if still a little unsure of her.

“As soon as you can produce a license,” she promised.

“Will tomorrow be soon enough?”

“Tomorrow?” She gaped at him, then giggled. “Such haste, Mr. Darby. They will suspect we have a reason.”

He pulled her back into his arms. “Oh, I have the very best reason of all. Anyone can see I am utterly devoted to you. And if I haven’t proven as much to your satisfaction, allow me to spend the rest of my life doing so.”

And he did. And so did she.

To Ellen Johnson, for her unflagging devotion,
and to Kristen Skold, for being a woman of character

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed the story of Eloise and Jareth. Love truly is too precious to waste, particularly when you remember to both give and receive.

You may have noticed old friends from my other stories. The courtship of Lord and Lady Hastings is the plot of
The Irredeemable Miss Renfield
, which first introduced Eloise and her scandalous past. Jareth’s own past was first introduced in the novella, “A Place by the Fire,” in
Be My Bride
. That story told of how Justinian and Eleanor remembered their love for each other, thanks to the help of a small, black kitten. And my dearest Margaret, Lady DeGuis, first began helping Comfort House in
The Marquis’ Kiss
, the book in which she fell in love with a most unlikely gentleman.

I love to hear from readers. Please visit my web site at
www.reginascott.com
, find me blogging at
www.nineteenteen.blogspot.com
or e-mail me at
[email protected]
.

Happy reading!

Regina Scott

Copyright © 2002 by Regina Lundgren

Originally published by Zebra (0821772821)

Electronically published in 2011 by Belgrave House/Regency

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.