by Danice Allen
“Come along quietly, sir, and we won’t have to restrain you.”
Amanda’s eyes widened with horror as she noticed for the first time that the younger constable was holding a length of rope.
“Gentlemen!” she exclaimed. “Surely it won’t be necessary to tie him up!” She turned to John. “Oh, do please go with them quietly, John! They mean you no harm and only wish to help you!”
John gave her a gently rebuking glance, then spoke again to the constable. “It should be perfectly obvious that I’m neither a criminal nor a madman. I’ve got plenty of blunt and have no more need of this lady’s assistance than I have of yours.”
He took out his purse and cradled it in one palm. The two constables exchanged glances.
“I can rack up in an inn and wait till my memory returns, if need be. So why don’t you tell me, sirs, just what it will take to get you off my arse.” John plopped the purse into his other palm with a jingle of coins and waited.
Amanda thought it looked very much as though John were attempting to bribe the two officers of the law. The keen expression in the senior constable’s eyes was either avarice or righteous indignation. It turned out to be the latter.
“If you think you can bribe me, sir,” he growled, “you’re dead wrong. And if you don’t want to be arrested for doin’ just that, I think you’d better put away that plump purse of yours.”
John hesitated, glowering belligerently, but finally put the purse away in his coat pocket. Amanda could actually see the tension ease out of the senior constable’s broad shoulders a little. He didn’t want trouble, either.
“In answer to your question, the only way to get us off your arse, sir, would be for you to tell us who you are. Can you do that, sir?”
Amanda got the distinct impression that even if he could tell them who he was—which, of course, he couldn’t—John’s hackles were up, and he’d withhold the information out of sheer spite and stubbornness. He set his jaw, lifted his chin, crossed his arms, and stood as silent and grim as a palace guard.
The constable sighed and nodded at his young helper. “Well, then, there’s only one thing left to do—”
Amanda squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for a wrestling match between John and the constables. But an unfamiliar voice came from the direction of the doorway to pierce the strained silence.
“I can tell you who this man is.”
Amanda’s eyes flew open. Standing head and shoulders above Mr. Tebbs was a man with the sculpted beauty and grace of a Greek statue. He was fair-skinned and blond with startling pale blue eyes that were fixed on John. As Mr. Tebbs and the maids stepped aside with open-mouthed awe so the stranger could enter the room, John steadfastly returned the man’s gaze. But he did not portray any emotions. His face was completely expressionless.
The stranger walked past Mr. Tebbs and the gaping maids, and past the stunned constables without sparing any one of them a single glance. Once inside the room, as he stood a little removed from them all and continued to stare at John, Amanda stared at him.
From his snowy-white cravat and stiff collar to his pale blue waistcoat with white stripes, his Bishop’s blue cutaway coat, white pantaloons and tall black boots, he epitomized cool, patrician elegance. She, as well as all the others in the room, waited breathlessly for him to speak. Finally he did.
“This gentleman, whom you seem so eager to truss up like a chicken and cart away to your offices, is Jackson Thadeus Montgomery, Viscount Durham … my brother.”
Amanda was shocked. She glanced back and forth between John—who apparently was a Jack—and the stranger. They didn’t look anything alike. Jack was all darkness and fire, his brother was lightness and ice. Jack was impulsive. His brother looked completely in control … although she did think she detected a particular brilliance in his eyes as he looked at Jack that hinted at strong emotions held firmly in check.
As Jack still had not moved or spoken, Amanda caught his arm. “Do you recognize your brother, John … er, that is … Jack?”
Jack stirred, throwing Amanda a furtive glance before locking eyes with the stranger again. “No, I don’t recognize him,” he said coolly, then added in what Amanda thought was a rather grudging tone, “But there is a vague familiarity about him.”
The stranger smiled wryly and took a step forward. “I should hope I look vaguely familiar, Jack. What rig are you up to now, little brother?”
Amanda moved closer to Jack and held up a restraining hand. “Jack has had a memory lapse, sir, due to an accident. It would be a wonderful thing if indeed you are his brother, but since he has not yet recognized you, could you please introduce yourself and give us some proof as to your connection to him?”
The stranger stopped his approach, shrugged, and gave a slight, formal bow. “My name is Julian Fitzwilliam Montgomery, Marquess of Serling.” Then he tucked two slim, elegant fingers into a waistcoat pocket and pulled out a chain and locket. In a leisurely manner, he pinched open the locket and moved closer, offering the jewelry for inspection.
“This locket belonged to our late mother. We were rather younger then, but as you can see, there can be no denying that these likenesses are of Jack and myself.”
Jack and Amanda both looked at the tiny etchings. The evidence seemed irrefutable. Jack looked thoughtful and Amanda nodded, convinced. The marquess then offered the locket to the constables, who duly examined the article and returned it.
“Well, it looks like you won’t have to come with us after all, your lordship,” said the senior constable, giving his hat a straightening tug. “You’re lucky your brother showed up just now.”
“Yes, but how did you know to look here for your brother?” asked Amanda, turning toward the marquess.
“Mrs. Beane, the proprietress of the Three Nuns, gave me a clue as to which direction you were headed after leaving Horsham, and I’ve been on the lookout for you since I got to town yesterday afternoon. This particular inn escaped my notice when I made what I thought was a thorough search of places you might stay the night.” He raised a brow, much in the same manner as Jack sometimes did. “But this one is rather off the beaten track, isn’t it?”
Amanda blushed, all too aware that the inn had been chosen for just that reason.
The marquess continued. “I was making another round of the town before leaving and traveling westward when I spied these constables marching purposefully down the street as if on official business. I followed them on a hunch.”
“You ought to have contacted us the minute you came to town,’ said the constable. “We are trained to handle such situations, my lord.”
The marquess gave a soft, beleaguered sigh and removed a speck of lint off his otherwise spotless lapel. “I abhor a public to-do when I feel fairly confident in being able to handle things myself. Now if you don’t mind,” he continued, effectively taking charge, “I would like some time alone with my brother so that we might get reacquainted. Landlord, bring another setting, won’t you? I haven’t had breakfast.”
Summarily dismissed, everyone scrambled out of the room except for Amanda. Jack had caught her hand and was holding fast. “Miss Darlington will stay, of course,” he said.
The marquess looked at Amanda and bowed. “Of course,” he agreed, smiling. If he did not like her presence in the room, he hid it well behind a polite facade.
They sat down at the table, and plateware for the marquess was immediately brought in. Mr. Tebbs hovered and served for a few minutes, but reacted promptly to a pointed look from Lord Serling and left the room.
“So, Jack,” said the marquess, ignoring the food and leaning forward with his arms folded on the table. “Your memory is quite gone, is it? You remember nothing of your former life?”
“I remember nothing,” he answered calmly. Amanda thought Jack was acting very cautious and reserved. But if he didn’t recognize this dignified marquess as his brother, it would be rather daunting to suddenly find out they were so closely related.
&n
bsp; “How dashed inconvenient,” said the marquess, with a faint smile Amanda suspected was a little insincere. But why would Lord Serling make mocking comments at such a serious moment? “However, I am a wealth of information at your fingertips. Don’t you want to ask me a few questions?”
Jack chewed consideringly on a piece of toast. “The truth?”
Lord Serling spread his hands wide. “But of course.”
“Actually I’m not terribly interested in knowing particulars about myself just now.”
“Jack!” exclaimed Amanda. “I should think you’d be dying of curiosity!”
“It is enough that my brother has found me and can help me return home when the time comes.”
Lord Serling raised his brows. “When the time comes?”
“I have business to finish here first,” Jack answered obliquely. Amanda had a bad feeling she knew exactly what that “business” was. She was going to have to make it perfectly clear to Jack that she would not allow him to escort her to Thorney Island. She was about to tell him so when the marquess spoke up.
“But. you have friends and loved ones worried about you … waiting for you,” Lord Serling told him.
Jack sliced a piece of bacon. “Do I have a wife?”
Amanda held her breath. She had been wondering the same thing, agonizing over the possibility that she may have made love to another woman’s husband.
The marquess sat back in his chair and watched Jack with a penetrating gaze. “No,” he said at last.
Amanda released her held breath with a shudder of relief.
“Therefore I must conclude that I have no children … at least none that I can acknowledge. Do I have parents still living?”
“No,” said the marquess.
“Siblings?”
“Just me.”
“So, if you are my closest living relative and you already know I’m safe and sound, I see no reason to rush home. Do you?”
Lord Serling cast a flickering glance Amanda’s way and said, “You have responsibilities, Jack. Places to go, my dear brother, and … promises to keep.”
Jack dabbed his mouth with a napkin, then caught and held the marquess’s gaze. “Any promises I’ve made will be honored … have no fears about that. They must simply wait an additional day or two for my attention. In the meantime, perhaps you would be so good as to send word by messenger to my … er … friends and let them know I am safe and will see them within the week. Does that satisfy you?”
The two brothers stared at each other as if communicating in some unspoken language. Presently, the marquess stirred and said matter-of-factly, “I suppose it must satisfy me for now.” He lifted his fork and began to eat.
“But there’s no need for a delay of any kind,” Amanda protested, unable to hold her tongue any longer. “Jack has some harebrained idea he must escort me to Thorney Island to pick up my nephew. But I can assure you that there is no need for his escort or assistance at all!”
“Is that the unfinished business you referred to, Jack?” the marquess inquired mildly.
“It is. But Amanda … Miss Darlington … is not telling the truth about her trip to Thorney Island.”
“What?” Amanda exclaimed, laughing nervously.
“Are you calling me a liar, Jack … er … Lord Durham?”
“You might as well empty your budget, m’dear,” said Jack, pushing back from the table with a huff of exasperation. “And we might as well call each other by our Christian names, particularly since you now know my real name, Amanda!”
Jack turned to the marquess. “Julian, Amanda and I have become very good friends over the course of the last three days. After I wandered, dead drunk, into the path of her coach-and-four and hit my head on a rock in a clumsy attempt to get out of the way, Amanda went to considerable trouble and effort to nurse me through a fever and undertake sundry other unpleasant tasks to restore my health. If not for her, I might be dead.”
“Ah. You’re as beholden to her, then, as you are to Robert, eh?”
“Yes.” Jack looked confused, then said, “I mean … that is … who is Robert?”
Julian watched Jack closely. “He claims to be your best friend. He saved your life in Oporto.”
“Ah, I see. Not very good of me to forget something like that, eh?” He chuckled uncertainly. “Well, as I was saying, I feel I owe Amanda a debt of gratitude. And as she is so shatter-brained as to have undertaken a journey from Surrey to remote Thorney Island entirely without escort and with only three servants in attendance, none of whom are female, she has already placed herself in unspeakable danger.”
Amanda felt the color rise in her cheeks as the marquess bent his keen gaze on her. “Yes, indeed,” he answered, frowning thoughtfully.
“Add to that the fact that Amanda is not going to Thorney Island to pick up her nephew, as she told me, but … forgive me, Amanda, for speaking plainly … to find an illegitimate child somehow related to her.”
Amanda sprang to her feet. “Jack! How did you ever get such an idea! I’ve never been so—”
“Settle down, m’dear,” Jack said soothingly, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to her seat again. “Theo told me. Only he didn’t tell me who the child belongs to. He just said Mr. and Mrs. Darlington would not allow the child on the premises at Edenbridge, but since their death you have taken a notion to restore the child to its rightful heritage. Am I correct so far?”
Feeling defeated, Amanda sighed and said, “Yes. So far you are absolutely correct.”
Jack looked satisfied. “So why don’t you tell me the rest, m’dear?”
Amanda searched Jack’s face. “You thought the child was mine, didn’t you?”
Jack looked chagrined. He bent near her and whispered. “I did, until—”
“Oh,” said Amanda, growing flustered and confused as she understood his meaning. Last night he’d discovered that she was a virgin when they’d made love, and virgins weren’t likely to have illegitimate children stashed away on remote islands. She hoped the marquess wasn’t reading between the lines. Darting a quick, embarrassed glance his way, she could not imagine, such a regal, masterful gentleman giving in to passion. He’d probably never understand why she had done so and would immediately label her a loose woman if he knew how wantonly she’d behaved last night in his brother’s arms.
Despite all the judgmental opinions Amanda was attributing to the marquess, he did not appear disgusted or even particularly interested when he prompted, “If the child’s not yours, Miss Darlington, whose is it?”
Amanda bit her lip and averted her gaze. “The child belongs to my father.” She gathered her composure and turned back to Jack and Lord Serling. She found herself directing her conversation to Jack, in whose dark eyes she could detect some sympathy. Not pity, thank goodness. Just honestly felt and offered sympathy.
“Although my parents both died in a carriage accident months ago,” she continued, “I didn’t find out about this sibling of mine till three days ago, the very day I nearly ran down Jack with my coach.”
She explained how the letter had been misfiled, the substance of it, and her concern for the child’s wellbeing after several months had passed without the usual funds being sent to the caretaker.
Jack took Amanda’s hand. “This is worse than I thought, Amanda! You don’t have the slightest idea what you’ll find when you get to Thornfield Cottage. You don’t even know the sex or age of the child! My dear, you haven’t the slightest notion what a responsibility you’ve undertaken!”
“Jack, how could I in good conscience do anything other than what I’m doing? I can’t bear to think that my brother or sister has been so neglected when I’ve had every material comfort. I know what it’s like to want for affection, too, and I’m determined to give this child everything it needs in the way of financial and emotional support. I want to make things right!”
“You are a very brave, right-thinking … and a very foolish young woman,” Lord Serling said sternly. “Ja
ck is right. You need an escort to Thorney Island and, particularly in view of the fact that you’ll have a child with you, you should be escorted home, as well. Where is your home, Miss Darlington?”
“It’s in Surrey, my lord. But I can’t allow Jack to keep his friends in suspense any longer. He needs to return to his home!”
“He does indeed,” the marquess said with grim determination. “And he will … after we have assisted you in locating your sibling and then returned you and your party safely to Surrey.”
Amanda’s eyes grew wide. “You mean you and Jack are both going with me?”
Jack frowned. “Julian, shouldn’t you go back to London and tell the others that you’ve found me?”
Lord Serling gave Jack a bland look and rose to his feet. “As you suggested yourself, Jack, I will send word of your safety by messenger. Surely two escorts for Miss Darlington are even better than one?”
Amanda laughed sadly and shook her head. “But you are just the sort of fashionable people I had hoped to keep my family secret from. I wanted my little brother or sister to grow up without the stigma of illegitimacy!”
“You don’t imagine, Miss Darlington,” the marquess began in an aloof tone, “that either Jack or I would divulge any information about your family you did not wish to have divulged, do you?”
Mortified, Amanda was about to apologize for having offended him, when she discerned a gleam of understanding in the marquess’s eyes. Instead she softly said, “Thank you, Lord Serling.” She turned to Jack, who was still holding her hand and said, softer still, “And thank you, Jack.”
She wasn’t just thanking him for helping her or for understanding her need to go to Thorney Island. She was thanking him for last night … for all the love and warmth and memories he’d given her … memories that would help her get through the rest of her life without him.
Julian arranged for one of his servants to ride directly on horseback to London with a letter for Charlotte. Then he gave orders for his remaining servants to await him at the Charleston Arms, and to stable his horses and coach there, while he rode with Jack and Miss Darlington in her carriage to Thorney Island. The trip was hampered by heavy rain showers and took the better part of the day, therefore Julian had more than sufficient time to think and come to some interesting conclusions.
