Millicent sighed. “He is, after all, half American.”
“Quite.” Olivia nodded. “I fear any knowledge of the Earl of Graystone’s activity would be quite scandalous.”
“Olivia, you can certainly trust me not to say a word,” Millicent said solemnly.
Olivia cast her a grateful smile. “Oh, my dear, I am certain I can trust you implicitly.” Olivia bit her lip to keep her smile from blossoming into a satisfied grin.
“I’m confident you’ll do exactly what needs to be done.”
“And so you see, sir,” Jared pulled a deep breath and held it, “I should very much like to marry her.” He had no doubt as to Cece’s willingness to wed him, but would the father share the opinion of the daughter?
Henry White leaned against the mantel in one of Lady Millicent’s parlors, diffidently swirling brandy in his glass. The man seemed somewhat preoccupied, his mind anywhere but here. The moment stretched endlessly.
Jared cleared his throat. “Sir?”
“What is it, my boy?” Henry said absently.
Jared narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. He had run into White several times this past week, and always the American had appeared contemplative and very far away. Jared wondered what could be troubling him. Even though he had requested White’s presence away from the party, and had spent an interminable amount of time gathering up the courage to do so, this was obviously not the right moment to ask for Cece’s hand. No matter; it could wait. Odd; there was more disappointment than relief at the thought.
“Perhaps I could lend my assistance in resolving whatever problem you may have encountered?” Jared asked.
“Problem?” Henry took a deep pull of the liquor and shook his head. “I appreciate the offer.” He shrugged. “But I’m afraid this is something I’ll have to deal with by myself.”
Again White seemed to sink deep into thoughts of his own. What ever was bothering the man was no doubt quite personal and extremely private. Jared wondered if he should silently take his leave.
“How much a role does my money play in your interest in my daughter?” White said without warning.
Jared drew a deep breath. He’d expected just such a question from Cece’s father. Obviously the man was paying far closer attention than it appeared. Was this ability to concentrate on one topic even while preoccupied with another a clue to the American’s business success?
“To be honest, sir, initially it played a rather significant role. But now…”
“Now?” White raised a stern brow.
Jared shrugged. “Now it no longer matters.”
“Why?” White shot the question like an arrow.
“I love her, sir,” Jared said simply.
“Would you love her as well without her fortune?”
“Yes,” Jared said without pausing so much as a heartbeat.
White’s eyes narrowed slightly, his studied gaze intense and deliberate. Jared resisted the urge to loosen the collar around his neck, which seemed somehow tighter than only a moment ago. Abruptly the older man nodded, as if satisfied with what he’d found. Jared released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d held.
“Love is a tricky emotion,” White said quietly. “And women are dammed unpredictable creatures.”
“I seem to have discovered that already, sir.” Jared’s tone was wry.
White drew a deep pull of the brandy. A droll smile quirked the corners of his mouth. “You appear to know my daughter far better than I expected.”
Thoughts of Paris flashed through his mind, followed swiftly by memories of their encounter in the stable. He struggled to suppress a satisfied smile. “I have done my best, sir.”
Again, White narrowed eyes that flashed an unspoken threat. “See that you do not grow to know her too well.”
He could see by the look in White’s eyes that any protestations of innocence would not be believed. He grinned weakly. “No, sir.”
White nodded, as if certain his implied warning was understood. “There are some things you should know about my girl. You’d better sit down.” White pulled two cigars from his waistcoat and handed one to Jared, who grinned his appreciation. “This might take a while.”
He settled into a burgundy brocade wing chair and gestured to the younger man to take the matching chair. Jared sank into the comfortable seat and, for the first time since the two men had entered the room, relaxed. There was nothing like a good cigar and good company to do that for a man.
White struck a match and leaned forward to touch the tip of Jared’s cigar, then lit his own. Long seconds passed in the companionable silence of men who shared an appreciation for the finer things in life.
“First of all,” White blew a small, wobbly ring of blue-gray smoke, “Cece takes after her father in many respects.”
“Really?” Jared blew a ring slightly larger than White’s.
“Indeed.” White puffed a circle, steadier and larger than the last. “She can be quite stubborn, extremely persistent and determined to have her own way.”
“I have noticed those tendencies,” Jared said idly.
“She is also impulsive, prone to leaping into matters without any consideration as to the possible consequences of her actions.”
Jared gazed smugly at his latest, and most impressive, ring of smoke. “I have noticed that as well.”
“Mark my words, Jared, Cece needs a husband with a firm hand.” White pointed his cigar sternly at the younger man. “But like any good filly, she’s worthless if her spirit is broken. I would not like to see that happen to any daughter of mine.”
White puffed a large misty ring, followed quickly by a second that spun lazily through the first. “Do I make myself clear?”
Jared stared at the dissipating haze. White’s point went well beyond any spur-of-the-moment smoke-blowing competition. He looked at the man with renewed respect and hoped he would remember this intimidating technique when he someday had daughters of his own.
“Very clear, sir.”
“Excellent.” White rose to his feet, and Jared followed suit. “I shall settle a considerable sum on Cece when you marry. And I will provide her with funds of her own on an annual basis.”
“That’s extremely generous, sir.” Far better than Jared had hoped for. Cece’s money would mean a rebirth of the estate and all that went with it. Even so, now that the deed was nearly done, it was more than a little distasteful. It must be that bloody love business rearing its annoying head again. If he had known how that per sis tent emotion would complicate everything, he might well have married the first heiress he’d found, even one whose brows met over her nose.
White tossed his half-finished cigar in the fireplace with a look of regret. “What do you plan on doing with that horse less carriage of yours?”
“My horse less carriage?” Jared said cautiously.
White leveled him a sympathetic gaze. “Surely you did not think Cece would keep such a secret?”
Jared groaned to himself. “Actually, sir, yes I did.”
“Not when it comes to her father.” A touch of triumph colored his smile. “Although she did tell me not to reveal your activity to anyone else. Some nonsense about society here not understanding—”
“Yes, sir,” Jared interrupted. “I believe I’ve heard it all before.”
White laughed. “No doubt you have, especially if I know my daughter.” He paused and eyed Jared speculatively. “I find motorcars extremely interesting. If some of the kinks can be worked out, I suspect they will be the vehicles we shall all ride into the twentieth century.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Jared nodded eagerly.
“I should like to see this machine of yours.”
“It would be my plea sure, sir.”
“Perhaps…” a gleam twinkled in White’s eye, and Jared noted how familiar that expression appeared, “…you would even permit me to…”
Jared’s stomach sank.
“…oh, say…”
At once he realized
why he recognized that look of White’s.
“…drive the automobile?”
Bloody hell! The woman did indeed take after her father.
“Of course, sir.” Jared forced a smile to his lips.
“You are a damn poor liar, my boy. I like that.” White grinned. “I detest liars, especially good ones.” He turned to go and reached for the door handle.
“Sir…” Jared blurted impatiently.
White raised a quizzical brow. “Yes?”
“You still have not answered my question.”
“Your question?” White’s brow creased with puzzlement, then smoothed. “Of course. Completely slipped my mind. Yes, yes, you can marry her, if she’ll have you.” White’s gaze flicked over him in an assessing manner. “But I must admit you’re much more acceptable than I ever expected from Cece. She’s made a good choice.”
The compliment was tossed out in an offhand manner, but White’s words warmed Jared. He already had a great deal of respect for this self-made man, and knowing White considered him at least satisfactory for his daughter touched him in a way he never would have expected.
“Thank you, sir,” Jared said sincerely.
White nodded shortly and pulled open the door. “It’s high time we made our presence known at this fiasco.”
“Fiasco?” Jared suppressed a grin.
White rolled his eyes heavenward. “Did I say fiasco? Slip of the tongue.” He leveled Jared a sidelong glance. “Remember that phrase, my boy, ‘slip of the tongue.’ It’s saved my life with my wife more than once. It’s convenient, easy to remember and almost impossible to argue with.”
Jared’s grin broke free. “‘Slip of the tongue,’ yes, sir. I’ll remember.”
The men strode side by side down a long corridor, through a door and into a second-story foyer. To one side, a double stairway swept down to the first floor. On the other, a tall, wide arched entry framed the ballroom. White surveyed the room and his expression froze. Jared followed his gaze to where it rested on Quentin’s father. Sir Robert appeared in idle conversation with a small gathering of gentlemen.
Was this what had the American so preoccupied? Lady Millicent had mentioned a long-ago relationship between Phoebe White and Robert Bainbridge, but surely the past had no bearing on the events of today. White’s dark eyes narrowed, his face set as if carved in steel itself, and Jared pitied any man on the receiving end of that expression.
“Jared…” White’s intense gaze never left his quarry.
“Yes, sir?”
“I told you I detest liars, didn’t I?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I also despise thieves and cheats.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And I protect what is mine.”
“I can certainly understand that, sir.”
“See that you do, my boy.” White nodded sharply. “See that you do.” White turned to leave, then turned back.
“By the way, Cece told me about your motorcar, but I’ve no doubt she kept your secret when it comes to anyone else. She has a highly developed sense of loyalty.”
Jared grinned. “I am counting on that.”
White shrugged. “Apparently others do not have the same qualities.”
A sinking sensation settled in the pit of Jared’s stomach. “What do you mean?”
White shook his head wryly. “I mean, I have heard about your automobile for the past hour, right here. Rumors, some quite unpleasant, have been flying all evening.”
Jared groaned. “Bloody hell.”
White quirked a brow, his manner mild. “I don’t understand you British at all. Why, in my country—”
“I know, sir, I know.” Jared pulled a deep breath and gritted his teeth. The rest of this evening would not be at all pleasant. “And believe me, right now I would just as soon rather be in your country.
“I’d rather be anywhere but here.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Where on earth is Jared?” Cece struggled to keep a peevish tone from her voice. “I have barely seen him all week, and now he seems to have vanished.”
“I shouldn’t worry,” Emily said, her mind obviously elsewhere. “He’s certain to be here somewhere.”
Cece glanced critically at her sister. This was the first moment all evening she’d had a chance to speak with Emily. The girl had been surrounded by eager young men as soon as the festivities began.
Emily positively sparkled to night. Her amber eyes glowed with excitement, high color warmed her cheeks, the frothy white gown she wore created a vision reminiscent of a fairy tale princess. Cece remembered the marvelous time she’d had at her own coming out and was inordinately pleased her sister was experiencing the same success.
“You seem to be having a pleasant evening,” Cece said with a smile.
“Oh, Cece,” the younger girl sighed, “isn’t this the most perfect night ever?”
Cece laughed softly. “Perhaps not ever, but I will agree it is a lovely evening.”
“It’s wonderful,” Emily said with a bob of her head. “Simply wonderful.”
Cece’s gaze skipped over the multitude squeezed in the ballroom and continued her search for Jared. He was nowhere to be seen, but Cece vaguely noted what appeared to be a great deal of animated conversation taking place among ducked heads and behind protective fans. She wondered if some juicy tidbit of gossip was circulating through the room, then dismissed the inconsequential notion.
“I only wish I could find Jared. I wonder if he’s with Quentin? Have you seen him at all lately?”
“Quentin?” Emily asked, as if the name was unfamiliar.
Cece smiled wryly. “Yes, Quentin. Surely you remember him? The gentleman you find so frustrating and confusing?”
“I know perfectly well who you’re talking about. I haven’t the vaguest notion where he is.” Emily lifted her shoulders in a casual gesture of dismissal. “And I’m not particularly concerned either.”
“You’re not?” Cece said cautiously.
“Not a bit.”
Cece cast her sister a speculative glance. “I thought you were in love with him.”
“So did I,” Emily said airily. “But that was long ago.”
“Last week, I believe.” A dry note sounded in Cece’s voice.
“It seems very long ago.” Emily’s tone was firm. “Honestly, Cece, I see no reason why I should set my cap for any one man right now. Just, for a moment, consider the possibilities.” Emily swept her fan in a gesture that encompassed the entire ballroom.
“Look at all these young men here. Handsome, exciting…why, a girl would be a fool not to consider all the options available. And not just here, either. There’s still all of Chicago society that I’ve yet to really meet, as an adult anyway.” She leaned toward her sister with a patronizing air. “It’s not as if Quentin was my only chance for a good marriage. After all, I am only seventeen. It would be far different if I were your age.”
“I see,” Cece said slowly. “Then I gather you think I’d best snare Jared and haul him to the altar before he notices my failing eyesight, imminent wrinkles and deteriorating wits?”
“No, no.” Emily shook her head impatiently. “I did not mean that at all. I am certain, even without Jared, you still have a few opportunities left.”
“Thank you.”
Emily blithely ignored her sister’s cutting response. “It’s of no consequence, at any rate. Whereas I have realized that my interest in Quentin was no doubt the result of close proximity and possibly even a still unknown malady, you are confident of your feelings for Jared.” She raised a brow. “You are still certain that you love him, aren’t you?”
Cece sighed in resignation. “Yes, that is one thing I’m confident of.”
“Very well, then.” Emily beamed. “We needn’t worry about your fate. There shall be no more nonsense about working for a living. You and Jared will marry and live happily ever after, and I need no longer fear you’ll end up old and feeble and alone.”
“I had no idea you foresaw such a dire end for me,” Cece muttered.
Emily nodded vigorously. “I did indeed. I have spent years hoping against hope you would come to your senses and finally develop some measure of decorum and rational behavior. At times I have even—”
“Pardon me.”
The girls turned at the deep, resonant voice.
“I believe this is my dance.” A tall, roguishly handsome, dark-haired man nodded to Cece and presented his arm to Emily. Cece had to admit, if Jared’s charms had not already blinded her to the temptation of any other man, she would find this one quite inviting.
“How delightful,” Emily said in a voice at once sweet and sultry. Emily cast her sister a smug smile, then turned her complete attention to the stranger, and the couple glided onto the dance floor.
Cece stared in astonishment. Where on earth had her quiet, proper sister acquired that flirtatious manner? From whom had she adopted that come-hither expression? Obviously, this trip to En gland had made an impact on Emily that Cece never would have expected. Why, Em seemed almost like…
The idea struck her with the force of a physical blow, and Cece’s eyes widened with the emotional impact. Emily’s behavior was not unlike her own at that age. Of course Cece’s adventures had started long before she discovered the innate appeal of the opposite sex, but the tilt of Emily’s chin and the rapt look in her eye that told the man she gazed at that he was, at that moment, her world, and even the mix of honey and spice in her voice was so like Cece at seventeen, it was nearly as if she’d just gazed into a mirror of the past.
My goodness! What had she done to the prim, docile child? Cece drew her brows together and tried to consider this new development rationally. Was this evolution of Emily’s character really so bad? A slow smile spread on Cece’s face. Of course not. She was merely following the example set by her big sister. Cece’d had some marvelous adventures in her life that she credited to her uninhibited nature. Only now did she truly understand the need to consider the consequences of her actions before leaping forward. But Emily had always had that sense of restraint. Tempering it with a bit of exuberance, perhaps a touch of intemperance, even a dash of outrageous abandon, would do the girl a world of good.
The Princess and the Pea Page 23
