“I beg to differ,” she said. “You’ll look back and rue the fact that you turned me down.”
She went to the door and looked back at him. “It’s not too late,” she said. “I’ll be waiting for you. Every night, for the rest of my life if I have to.”
But he didn’t understand. He was still too worried about her. His gaze was almost pitying.
“You’re the one who needs pity,” she said, “because as you reminded me tonight—and have every time we’ve been together—people are bigger than their circumstances. But you don’t apply that same lesson to yourself. You’re a coward, Luke Callahan, as strong as you are, as clever as you are. True survivors open themselves up to the world, pains and ills and all—and let it in anyway. They live, in other words. They don’t merely exist, as you do.”
She pushed open the door to the cellar, hoping he’d come behind her and pull her down and say, Let’s go, right now. Let’s run away!
But he didn’t.
No. He didn’t.
Her eyes stung with tears. Her throat tightened as she tried to hold back the grief and, yes, her fury at him. Quietly she shut the door behind her.
Not a peep of lantern light shone through. She could no longer smell his skin, the salty aroma of his sweat and his seed. She couldn’t see his eyes, touch his face.
They were over, she and Luke, by his choice.
It was a foolish one.
But she loved him all the same. She loved her broken man like no other—
All the same.
Chapter Thirty-one
When the four glossy, unmarked carriages came rolling up the drive in the early afternoon, Janice’s heart—which was so bruised after her middle-of-the-night encounter with Luke—swelled with relief at the sight, and her eyes welled up.
Her family!
She could survive anything with them nearby.
“There’s an awful lot of them, isn’t there?” Halsey said in his cool, ducal manner.
But she sensed his unease. “Yes, there are.” They were standing next to each other in front of a large drawing-room window. Mrs. Friday sat on the other side of the room, and as usual, she was peacefully sewing. The hounds had taken to her. One rested its face on her slipper. “They’re like ants, my family is,” said Janice, “always multiplying, it seems. But I like it that way.”
“Right,” he said dryly.
“I intend to have eight children,” she told him, just to be wicked.
“Eight?” His beautiful brow puckered.
“At least,” she said blithely, and thought, But not with you.
It would be with Luke or with no one.
She might as well tell Halsey now so that he could prepare himself. It would hardly be fair to wait. Of course, he’d never been fair to her, had he? Coercing her into agreeing to his unofficial proposal?
But she wasn’t he. She had more integrity and kindness than he ever would, and she wouldn’t be brought down to his level.
“We’ll wait outside,” he told her.
“Not yet,” she answered. “There’s something I must tell you first.”
“Yes?” He put his hands behind his back and lowered his brow at her.
His fondness for her defying him obviously had worn thin. He wanted control now. Nothing more. It just went to show how cheap were his thrills, how little there was beneath the surface.
She peeked over his shoulder at Mrs. Friday, who didn’t seem to notice their tension, which was a good thing. Janice didn’t want to embarrass Halsey any more than she had to. “No matter how you threaten me,” she said low, “I won’t marry you, Halsey. And I intend to go home with my family tomorrow.”
It would break her heart to leave Luke. But what could she do? He’d have nothing to do with her.
Halsey’s expression didn’t change, but his gaze was flinty. “You will marry me. If you won’t see reason, your father will.”
“He cares more about my happiness than reason.” It was what she loved best about him.
The duke scoffed. “Those Irish.”
She nearly kicked him in the shins. “You’d be lucky, sir, to have a little Irish in you. Perhaps it would make your heart softer. How you could ever wish to coerce a woman into marriage is beyond me.”
His eyes flashed with irritation. “Outside, madam. We’ll see what’s what.”
She stood on tiptoe to see her friend. “Mrs. Friday?”
Janice’s chaperone looked up, her face alight with interest. “Are we ready? I can’t wait to meet the family.”
“Yes,” said Janice. “And you’ll love them, I’m sure. Please don’t be intimidated by them, even when they talk over one another. They mean well.”
Mrs. Friday laughed. “I’ll be sure to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.”
The duke was pouting. He still appeared regal and commanding, but there was a noticeable crease on either side of his mouth as they walked outside. Janice didn’t care. He’d been warned.
In the hall, she remembered that Isobel would like to be there greeting the family, and she assumed Oscar already knew out in the stables. So the butler sent a maid to the room off the kitchen to retrieve Isobel, where she was keeping the puppies and Esmeralda company.
Janice, Mrs. Friday, and Halsey made it to the bottom of the front steps just as the carriages rolled up to the door. Thankfully, numerous footmen had already stationed themselves outside to greet them. The ubiquitous hounds poured out the front door, baying, but with one snap of the duke’s fingers they sat quietly near him, their haunches quivering in excitement.
Janice refused to wonder what Luke was doing. No doubt he’d help with the horses. But it was his own fault if he came over to assist and she didn’t look at him. Let him wonder what he was giving up.
Once again, she was overcome with relief from her anxiety when she saw everyone getting out of their vehicles. Much of her family were here: Mama and Daddy; Marcia and Duncan and their three children, Joe, Caroline, and Suzanne, all of whom must have been in London visiting; and Janice’s siblings Peter, Robert, and Cynthia. Gregory was still living in Paris with his Pippa and their darling Bertie, but that was all right. They were due to arrive back in London in a few days for a visit.
Janice was glad to see that Marcia and Duncan had brought a special guest with them, too, the Duke of Beauchamp, who was practically a member of the family. His ruddy, expressive face looked up with such delight at seeing Janice, she laughed out loud. One never knew if Beauchamp was going to be in a good mood or bad, but he never hid his emotions and even when he was in a bad mood he was somehow charming.
One always knew where one stood with him. Perhaps that was one reason he was a compelling figure—that and the fact that his own brand of ducal authority was so much more substantial than Halsey’s, Janice realized now. It was because Beauchamp had a heart—a loving, big heart—whereas Halsey appeared to have none.
Funny, Halsey and Luke were alike in some ways: neither had grown up with much love, it appeared. Halsey had had his grandmother and mother to a limited extent. And Luke had had his mother for a short time and the nuns. But Luke, although he shied from relationships, was capable of tender feelings.
Why wasn’t Halsey? Was it born in him to be so hard? Or was it a choice he’d made?
Of course it was a choice, she told herself. He didn’t deserve pity. And she wouldn’t give it to him. Neither, of course, did Luke, although she’d told him she’d pitied him today to rile him. He would hate that she did.
She hoped her so-called pity would give him pause.
Janice, of course, had eyes only for her parents as the crowd merged together and came toward her.
Mama threw open her arms, and Janice ran to embrace her.
“Mama.” She squeezed her hard. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Janice’s sweet-smelling mother pulled back and smiled at her broadly. “Darling, how fast things have changed!” She looked Janice up and down. “You’ve become a wom
an in love! I can see it in your eyes, dearest.” She gave her a kiss on the cheek.
Janice’s heart broke once more hearing Mama say that. She was in love—with a man she couldn’t have.
“Mama, there’s so much I need to explain. Look for Mrs. Friday—she’s my chaperone.”
“So the duke told us in his letter. The dowager was unable to serve in that role?”
Janice nodded.
Mama’s eyes grew large. “Whyever not?”
“She—she’s addled,” Janice said. “She thinks she’s the Queen.”
“My goodness.” Mama’s face paled. “The duke didn’t mention that.”
“But it’s not all the time,” Janice assured her. “And she’s quite all right, once you get to understand her.”
Mama regained her usual brisk manner. “Well, I’m sure you did a beautiful job sorting it all out, and I can’t wait to hear all the details.”
Daddy, too, hugged Janice as if she’d been gone for ages rather than a few weeks. “We’ll need to talk,” he murmured in her ear. “I won’t give a word of consent unless this is what you truly want. I don’t give a rabbit’s foot that he’s a duke.”
“But I thought you and Mama were anxious for me to marry him if I could,” she said back.
The hubbub was making it easy for them to speak up without really having to whisper.
“Oh, parents can get a little too set in their expectations, sometimes,” Daddy said. “You know we only want what’s best for you, darling girl.”
He looked straight into her heart with those big Irish eyes. She hadn’t planned to tell him until later, when they could be alone.
“Janice?” he asked with such love, she swallowed hard.
“I don’t want this, Daddy,” she said in a ragged whisper. “Help me get out of it. Please.”
“I suspected as much,” he said.
“How?”
“You could have gotten a letter to us, too, but you didn’t.” He squeezed her arm. “Consider it done. We’ll talk after it’s all over.”
“I love you,” she managed to say before she was pulled away by her younger siblings, Cynthia and Robert, who insisted on showing her Robert’s black eye, which he’d received in a terrible fight he’d gotten into at Tattersalls with another young man who’d accused him of poor taste in horses.
“Robert,” Janice chided him, although in the back of her mind she was still back there with Daddy, “you believed him?”
“No,” Robert said in his light Irish accent, “but I was looking for a good excuse to fight. So was he. It was a grand one, too.”
Cynthia rolled her eyes. “Men are so uncivilized.”
Janice couldn’t help thinking of Luke and his knuckle boxing. She’d heard him discussing it with Aaron. “I hope you kept your shoulders down,” she told Robert. “That way you have greater power behind each punch. If you hunch up, you’re going to lose.”
She showed him how when he pivoted from the waist with his punching arm at the ready the leverage behind his punch was far greater when he kept his shoulders down.
His eyes widened. “What’s happened to you?”
Cynthia asked the same thing.
“Nothing.” Janice shrugged, and with an inward smile went to greet the rest of the family.
No one mentioned anything about her unofficial engagement. Not even Cynthia and Robert. They knew that Daddy had yet to have a private meeting first with Janice and then with the Duke of Halsey.
The small children were hugged and fussed over by Janice and then taken upstairs for their own tea with Isobel. Oscar, who’d come jogging over to greet Janice’s parents and the rest of the family he called his own, returned to the stables, well satisfied that all had arrived without mishap, including the horses.
Janice, of course, noticed with a heavy heart that Luke never appeared in front of the house to take any horses with the other stablemen, three of whom she’d seen assisting Oscar.
But she wouldn’t think of Luke. She simply wouldn’t, although her back was sore, her breasts tender, and the V between her thighs still tingled at the memory of what they’d done together in the cellar.
For the rest of the party, tea was served immediately in the drawing room, along with thin slices of buttered bread, tender roast beef, and fine cheese. Beautiful iced cakes were available, too, along with strawberries, grapes, and sparkling wine. Halsey was at his best, Janice noticed: formal but polite, witty on occasion, and even slightly warm. He was well able to carry his own with Daddy and the Duke of Beauchamp. He never appeared to be overwhelmed by the loud buzz of conversation.
Mrs. Friday, too, seemed at ease, which Janice was so pleased to see.
“And how is Her Grace?” Mama asked in the first lull of conversation, which didn’t occur until everyone had their cup of tea in hand.
Janice knew that Mama was extremely curious about what had happened to the dowager.
“Well, thank you,” said Halsey, “as much can be expected for someone in her condition.”
Everyone was too polite to ask him for more details.
Janice rushed in. “She’s such a dear, and she’s in a new bedchamber now—we moved her. I felt she was too cooped up—”
“By her own choice, of course,” said Halsey. “Your daughter, Lady Brady, reminded Her Grace that there is a world beyond the confines of her room, for which I’m grateful.”
Mama looked well pleased.
“A man doesn’t always notice these things,” Halsey went on. “I tend to hole up in my library, hunt, or hang about the stables when I’m out in the country. Speaking of which, I need to get you men out there to tour them.”
“That’s a fine idea,” Daddy said with his usual affable charm, but behind it Janice could sense him taking the man’s measure.
Sitting next to him, she could even feel the way Daddy was ready to protect her. It was his favorite thing, to look after his family, and he excelled at it.
“How’s the estate faring?” the Duke of Beauchamp asked Halsey.
“Tolerably well,” he said. “I’ll be happy to show you around. We’ve made some improvements.”
“Those are always good,” Duncan said with a friendly smile. “We’ll have to compare notes sometime.”
“And backing up my father, I’m keen to see your stables,” said Peter, who was horse mad, as all good Irishmen were.
Looking about the room, Janice was vaguely alarmed. Everyone seemed to like Halsey. Marcia and Cynthia were already beaming at him as if he were their new brother-in-law. Good God, everyone but Daddy was beaming, not just Janice’s sisters.
Halsey took it in as if he expected it.
Which he did, of course.
Janice was so relieved that she’d already spoken to Daddy, or she’d have felt very alone. It was going to be extremely difficult to disappoint this entire room of people.
“You wrote to us of your grandmother’s orchids,” Mama said to Halsey. “Do we have time to see them today?”
“Mama’s been talking of nothing else,” said Marcia, “and I confess, I’d love to see them, too.”
“Peter and I can stay behind,” said Robert, “to tour the stables. Would you mind, Mama?”
“Not a bit,” she said. “In fact, let’s break up—the women shall see the orchids, and the men may go see the duke’s horses.”
Halsey agreed that this was an excellent plan, although Beauchamp overrode it and said he’d prefer to stay behind and visit with the dowager. Another cacophony resounded as everyone spoke at once.
“We’ll find a moment to talk,” Janice overheard Halsey tell Daddy.
“Of course,” Daddy replied.
Janice sighed, dreading the eventual conflict. She hoped Halsey would bow out gracefully, but she doubted it. He’d promised a good fight, but if he was clever he’d see that Daddy was no man to roll over and give up if he had something at stake.
Which he did—Janice’s happiness, as he’d reassured her.
> She would trust in his skills as patriarch of the family.
Meanwhile, she had to think about when to tell Mama and her sisters. She dreaded the carriage ride to the stove house and the inevitable questions about her whirlwind courtship with the duke.
Chapter Thirty-two
Janice needn’t have worried about the ride to the stove house. Cynthia told her all about her latest shopping activities in London, and then Marcia outlined all the details about the upcoming Christmas pageant at Oak Hall, which they began preparing for months in advance. Mama even had a story to share about one of the servants, who had married a servant from a neighboring house.
It was all very breezy and comforting.
When the carriage passed the Oriental gazebo and Cynthia rhapsodized over it, it was Janice’s first uncomfortable moment. The memories she associated with that gazebo weren’t at all fond ones.
But she maintained a cheerful expression anyway, especially when they arrived at the dower house and were greeted warmly by the house staff. After Mama graciously declined tea on all their behalfs, they strolled down the stone path—now clear of all traces of snow—to the stove house, where the elderly gardener welcomed the ladies with his usual good cheer.
The introductions were made, and he rubbed his hands together in obvious delight. “You’ve caught me at a good moment,” he told them. “I’m potting quite a beauty.”
“Show us,” said Mama.
“An orchid man always likes an enthusiastic visitor,” he told her.
“No one is more keen to admire and learn about orchids than my mother,” Janice told him.
Marcia and Cynthia followed behind and looked about the stove house in wonder.
“Isn’t it amazing?” she asked them.
“Yes,” they both said together.
All of them listened in rapt attention while the gardener told them how difficult it had been to grow the variety of orchid he was working with in that pot. “Let me show you what it looked like a month ago.”
Say Yes to the Duke Page 27
