Ignoring that, he released her hand and touched her cheek instead with one careless finger. “Don’t despair, little bird. You are a bit of a shock, just at first, you know.”
Before she could make any response to that, indignant or otherwise, he turned on his heel and strode back out to the carriage to see Mrs. Lamont safely home. There was nothing for Jess to do but hurry after Crabby.
She expected Lord Viscral to be in bed when they went up, but he sat by the fire in his dressing gown and demanded to know what nonsense they had seen at the theatre and whether his son had behaved himself. In truth, she knew he was looking for any signs that Jonathan and she were friends, but she could not face such a discussion and went to her chamber as soon as she could.
As she knew would happen, Crabby followed her very shortly after. She allowed Crabby to unlace her, but, as she sometimes did, insisted on sitting by the window still dressed with a shawl about her shoulders while Crabby retired.
By then, she could hear her uncle’s voice murmuring in the other room, and Holmes’s measured responses. Gradually, everything quietened down, except Crabby’s snoring, and at five minutes past midnight, Jess finally felt able to creep out of her bedchamber and cross the sitting room. Letting herself out as silently as she had the night before last, she hurried along the quiet passage and downstairs, flitting behind the reception desk to the small coffee room.
Crossing her fingers that there was no one but Claud within, she opened the door and slipped inside.
A single lamp burned in the corner, showing the room was quite empty.
At least she had not kept him waiting. She sat down in a winged armchair, rested her head back, and thought over the evening and what she would say to Claud…should he ever arrive. Her eyelids grew increasingly heavy until they closed, and she rested.
She woke with a start as the door opened, taking an instant to remember where on earth she was. To her relief, it was Claud who entered in haste and closed the door.
“Jess, what the devil are you about?” he demanded as she jumped up. “You’re not a child anymore! You can’t go around meeting strange men alone at midnight!”
“You’re not a strange man,” she argued. “I’ve known you since I was born.”
He couldn’t dispute that, though he did say severely, “Not the point.”
But, belatedly, another idea had come to her. “Claud…how long have you been in Blackhaven?”
He blinked. “Since yesterday evening. Why?”
Which meant he would have left home early yesterday morning at the latest. She swallowed. “Then you didn’t get my letter?”
“What letter? You haven’t written to me in more than a year.”
“Well, you haven’t written to me in two,” she countered. “But that doesn’t really matter. I have to say, it’s amazing luck that you just happen to be in Blackhaven at the same time as me.”
“Bizarre coincidence,” he agreed, glancing at the door and then back to Jess. “What are you up to?”
Now the moment was upon her, and she stood face to face with her old friend, it suddenly wasn’t so easy to simply ask him for a loan. For one thing, he was no longer the amiable youth she remembered getting into mischief with. He was a handsome young man with only hints of the Claud she remembered apparent in his expressions.
For another, she could not help feeling chastened by his absence of any obvious joy in their reunion. The last time they’d met, he had asked her to marry him and promised to be faithful through all the time they were apart. Yet now, they were together, and he didn’t even look pleased. In fact, his mind seemed to be more than half on something else entirely. Which wasn’t really surprising when he hadn’t come to Blackhaven in answer to her call.
“I was hoping you still remembered our friendship,” she managed. “And how we promised to help each other.”
For an instant, his distracted face lightened into a grin that was almost affectionate. “Of course, I do, you crazy girl. What trouble are you in, and how can I help?”
She drew in her breath. “The thing is, I need a loan.”
He delved into his pocket. “I can let you have ten pounds, but the truth is, I’m not terribly flush at the moment. Had to stay at the inn rather than this very smart hotel of yours.”
“Um…thank you, Claud, you’re very generous. Only I fear I need a little more than that for…” She drew in her breath. “You see, I’m obliged to run away and live on my own, and I was hoping you could lend me the money to set up a hat shop.”
Claud stared at her, then blinked and let out a slightly nervous laugh. “Oh, dear, you haven’t changed at all, have you? You can’t live on your own, and you can’t set up a hat shop. Lord Viscral wouldn’t allow it.”
“No, he wouldn’t, which is one reason I can’t ask him for the money. The other is, it’s his ridiculous edicts that are forcing me to run away.”
“What edicts?” Claude asked, sinking onto the sofa.
She swallowed, suddenly unwilling to tell him the whole. “That I shall be cast penniless on the world when he dies.”
Claude’s eyebrows flew up. “Is he about to die?”
“Well, no, not so far as any of us can see, but—”
“Then wait until he is before you worry,” Claude commanded, standing up again. “Sounds like an empty threat to me. Besides, you seem to have plenty of people looking after you as it is. At least two of them appear to be cousins!”
“The cousins are also problems, one way or another. So, you really couldn’t lend me enough for my purpose?”
“I’m afraid not, and even if I could, I wouldn’t. You can’t run away. You’d be ruined.”
“Somehow being ruined in the eyes of about four people isn’t much of a deterrent,” she retorted. “But I suppose I can see you might not like to be involved in such a scheme.” She took a deep breath. “So, I have an alternative plan, though I was hoping I need not put your family out by suggesting it.”
“My family?” he said warily.
“Well, yes. Do you think your mother would object terribly if I stayed with you for a little?” She flushed slightly, trying to ignore the lack of enthusiasm on Claud’s face. “We could say…pretend, if you like, that we are still betrothed. It would only be for a few…”
“God, no, that wouldn’t work at all,” he interrupted. “The thing is, Jess, I am betrothed, and the whole house is at sixes and sevens preparing for the wedding and receiving my new wife.”
The world tilted so far that Jess flung out one hand to grasp the arm of the chair to steady herself. The blood drained from her head, leaving her oddly rudderless and feeling utterly foolish. Of course, she had acknowledged that their feelings could have changed toward each other—it was one reason she had been determined to pursue the hat shop idea. That he would consider their childish promises of so little moment that he hadn’t even told her he was about to marry someone else…
She couldn’t deny it hurt.
He was peering at her. “Jess, are you quite well?”
She forced a smile to her lips, tried to make it as dazzling as possible. “Why, yes, of course! In fact, I am delighted for you!” She let out a little laugh. “And relieved, for I was afraid you might remember our old childish engagement and be hurt or displeased with me.”
Claud scratched his head, looking quite bewildered, “Displeased with you?”
“Why, yes, for I, too, am engaged to be married, and it is such a relief that you won’t mind in the slightest.”
“You know, Jess, I still can’t follow all your mad starts. Who the devil has been brave enough to take you on?”
“Captain Tallon, my cousin,” she said blithely, crossing her fingers behind her back. “That’s why I wanted to tell you in private, just to be sure you wouldn’t mind.”
“Good God, no, I’m very happy for you,” he said. “Only, what’s all this nonsense about hat shops and staying with my mother?”
Jess laughed. “Oh, you
wouldn’t understand,” she said airily. In fact, the rather depressing thought came to her that even if she hadn’t invented her betrothal, he would never have understood her motives. “But it doesn’t matter now. Tell me, who is it you are to marry?”
“Mary Francis.”
Another old neighbor and playmate. For some reason, she wanted to cry. Instead, she smiled. “How wonderful! Well, congratulations, Claud. I know you will be very happy together. You should go, now, before anyone comes in here.”
As though he had temporarily forgotten the danger, Claud leapt to his feet. “Absolutely. Well, see you behave now, Jess! Don’t give Tallon any reason to take you in disgust. I’m sure we’ll meet again before I leave.”
She kept the smile pinned to her face until the door closed behind him, and then she sank back into her chair. The world seemed to have collapsed about her ears. And yet what annoyed her most was her own utter naivety in imagining that Claud would have remained faithful. She felt very silly and very alone.
*
Unlike Jess, Jonathan had a good idea of Claud Darcy’s purpose in coming to Blackhaven. He had glimpsed the dancer waiting for him toward the back of the theatre.
Accordingly, once he had escorted Lady Bella home and stayed to drink a glass of brandy with her husband, he retrieved his horse and rode not on to Whalen but back to the center of Blackhaven.
His timing was good. For as he turned his horse into Black Street, where the theatre was located, he caught sight of Claud Darcy striding in the opposite direction, a jaunty spring in his step. In fact, he looked rather pleased with himself, so much so that he did not even see Jonathan riding toward the building he had presumably just left.
The houses opposite the theatre rented rooms to performers, and Jonathan happened to know those rented by Miss Antonia Bliss—otherwise, Aggie Blake.
The dancer appeared genuinely delighted to see him. “Why, Captain Barnaby! What a charming surprise! This is turning into quite the evening! Do come up.”
She led him to her boudoir, basically her only room, lit by two lamps and hung all over with shawls, hats, and scarves, making a decoration of her wardrobe.
“Some refreshment, Captain?” she asked brightly.
“No, thank you. I can’t stay. I just wanted your opinion.”
“Well!” She preened, smiling, and sat beside him on the sofa.
“On a young man called Darcy who I think is an acquaintance of your.”
She cast him a glance that was half-arch and half-anxious. “Jealous, Captain?”
He shook his head. “No, I just want to know what kind of a man he is. Did he follow you to Blackhaven, Antonia?”
She sighed. “We met in York. And since your interest has clearly waned, I invited him here. Didn’t think he’d come, though.”
“Why not?”
“He’s engaged to some lady at home.”
“Ah.”
“Don’t think badly of me, Captain.”
Jonathan sighed. “I don’t. I think badly of him. Seems to me, you could both do better.”
“Both?” Antonia said, bewildered.
“Never mind.” He rose to his feet. “Take care of yourself.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re going already? Is it because he was here?”
“As it happens, no. But I suppose it might have been.” He found he was gazing at a silk shawl draped over a looking glass behind her. Frowning, he took a step nearer. “Antonia, where did you get that?”
“It was a gift,” she said defensively, “from a gentleman.”
“Mr. Darcy?”
She giggled. “Bless, you, Captain, no. Quite a different kind, less of the gent and more of the man, if you see what I mean.”
“Does he have a name?”
She met his gaze with something fierce in her own. “Yes, but I’m not going to give you it.”
“Perhaps he lives in Whalen.”
Antonia’s eyes gave a fearful leap before she veiled them. She shrugged.
“A sailor?” he asked. “A warehouseman?”
“A good man,” Antonia muttered. “Who’d give me the shirt off his back if he thought I needed it. Deluded fool.”
“Perhaps,” Jonathan said non-committally. “Has he given you other presents?”
She shook her head. “He’s a poor man. I don’t want presents off him.”
“Interesting,” Jonathan observed. In his experience, she was voracious. Of course, it could be her father or brother who had given it to her, certainly someone she was protecting-which meant she knew the shawl was stolen. “But a poor man could not afford this kind of silk. It’s a beautiful fabric, all the way from China.”
“You don’t know that,” Antonia scoffed. “You can’t!”
He smiled faintly. “Actually, I can. I brought it. Good night, Antonia.”
*
The following morning, having set a few subtle enquiries in motion in Whalen, Jon rode over to Blackhaven to call on his father. His aim was to clear the air, to talk honestly to the old man and stop playing the old, childish games, games that were liable to ruin all of their lives, especially Jess Fordyce’s. He knew he would have to swallow some pride, make some concessions, and bite his tongue. But it needed to be done.
He hoped to catch the old man alone, but as soon as Holmes admitted him with a wide smile, he saw that Claud Darcy of all people was in the sitting room, too, along with Hector, Miss Crabtree, and a rather dowdy Jess, once more in her dull, unfashionable old gown. Another thing to speak to his miserly parent about.
To his surprise, Jess’s face reddened as soon as she caught sight of him. A flood of conflicting emotions rushed through her expressive eyes and seemed to culminate in a plea.
“Ha!” exclaimed his father, distracting him briefly. “It’s you, is it?”
“In the flesh,” Jonathan said mildly. “How are you, Father?”
“I’ve drunk the waters for three days now and feel no different.”
“Perhaps you’re too impatient, Uncle,” Jess said.
In answer to her silent plea, Jon veered toward her, but before he could get there, Darcy jumped up and wrung him by the hand. Beyond him, Jess looked as though she were in agony.
“Allow me to congratulate you, Tallon!” Darcy exclaimed. “You have won a very fine young lady, and I truly wish you all the happiness in the world!”
Chapter Six
Jess wanted the world to stop.
Her humiliation could not have been greater. Even before Claude had arrived that morning, she’d been asking herself why on earth she had told him she was engaged to Jonathan. Only for the sake of her own pride, surely, and now look where this had led her. She was about to be revealed as a liar and a somewhat pathetic human being, not just before Claud, but to her uncle, Crabby, and Hector. Jonathan, of course, already knew as soon as Claud had shaken his hand.
If only she hadn’t been paralyzed by shame, she would have bolted to her bedchamber and locked the door.
“What?” Lord Viscral uttered into the stunned silence that followed Claude’s congratulations. He stared from Jess to his son and began to laugh. “Damn me, you’ve done it already! I’ll say this for you, Jonnie, you always, always surprise me!”
“Ah, well, we had hoped to surprise you a little less publicly. But, yes, Jess has done me the honor of accepting my offer of marriage.”
“When did you do that?” Crabby hissed in her ear.
Jess barely noticed. She was too stunned by the discovery that Jonathan was going along with her lie. Her shame didn’t disintegrate, but it was diluted now with gratitude. Crabby seemed about to embrace her, then changed her mind and jumped up to give way to Jonathan, watching them with her hands clasped joyously under her chin.
Jess swallowed, still in some agony as Jonathan took her hand and kissed it. His eyes danced with amused understanding, and he might even have winked, so quickly she could not be sure. And then he leaned down and kissed her burning cheek, and she remembered
the scent of him, warm sandalwood and spice, when he’d kissed her lips.
Bemused, she let him draw her to her feet and walked with him to be given Lord Viscral’s somewhat triumphant blessing. And then Hector, his cold eyes boiling beneath his stiff smile, kissed her cheek and wished them both very happy.
“I know it has long been my uncle’s dearest wish to unite you. Even he cannot have expected it to happen so quickly.”
“I was afraid some other impudent fellow might snap her up.”
“May we go for a walk, Uncle?” Jess pleaded. “I really feel the need of fresh air.”
“Of course, of course,” Lord Viscral replied indulgently. “Off you go. Come back for luncheon and we’ll talk.”
“I thought I might buy Jess a betrothal gift,” Jonathan said.
“Oh, no!” Jess blurted in dismay. “You mustn’t!”
“Why ever not?” Hector asked, his eyes darting from her to Jonathan and back.
“Because she is not used to being showered with gifts,” Jonathan said with aplomb. “Come, my sweet, we shall have some fun.”
Her face all but splitting with delight, Crabby dragged Jess away from her “betrothed” to help find her old pelisse and bonnet.
“My dear, it is quite proper to accept gifts from one’s betrothed. Even quite expensive gifts.” Crabby gave her a rough and yet sincere hug. “Truly, I could not be happier for you! I believe Captain Tallon is a most estimable young man and has a quick wit into the bargain. I just know you will be happy together.”
“Oh, Crabby, I—”
“Don’t you dare cry,” Crabby said fiercely. “Go and be happy and enjoy this moment. You can tell me all about it when you return.”
Crabby was right. She couldn’t cry now, although what her next step should be—apart from falling at Jonathan’s feet in abject apology—she had no idea.
In silence, with a smile fixed to her lips, Jess emerged from the bedchamber, bade a cheerful goodbye to Lord Viscral and his visitors, and left the hotel on Jonathan’s arm.
“Shall we walk on the beach?” he suggested. “It’s quite soothing.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
The Wicked Heir (Blackhaven Brides Book 12) Page 6
