Cece’s smile broadened into a grin. If Emily had long worried about her sister’s fate, so too had Cece harbored concern over Em’s future. It seemed there was no longer cause for concern. Emily was following in her sister’s lightly trod, occasionally reckless, thoroughly enjoyed footsteps.
“I was so shocked to hear about Jared.”
Cece spun around to meet Linnea DeToulane’s mournful greeting. Her eyes widened and her heart stopped. Had something happened to Jared?
“What is it?” Cece asked sharply. “Tell me! At once!”
“You needn’t take that tone,” Linnea huffed. “It’s not as if the man were dead or mortally wounded or anything like that.”
Cece breathed a sigh of relief.
“He’s not even mildly injured, as far as I know,” Linnea said, adding in a dark tone, “although he might as well be, at least as far as his reputation is concerned.”
The woman made absolutely no sense. “What on earth are you talking about?”
Linnea glanced to one side and then the other, as if making sure they were not overheard. “You do remember the discussion at dinner last week about Quentin’s tinkering with that horse less carriage?”
“Of course I remember,” Cece said impatiently.
Linnea leaned forward confidentially. “Jared’s doing it as well.”
Caution colored Cece’s voice. “Doing what as well?”
Linnea sighed with exasperation. “Tinkering with automobiles, you silly goose.”
At once Linnea’s manner and the murmurs skittering around the ballroom made sense. Jared’s secret was out. And, exactly as he had feared, it had not been well received.
Cece drew a deep, steadying breath and forced a cool, casual air. “Oh, that.” She laughed lightly. “I think it’s quite delightful of him to be so terribly creative.”
Linnea shook her head in a pitying manner. “I suppose one really can’t expect you to understand, being from America. You people simply don’t have the same sort of standards we have. Standards that have helped us build an empire, while you…”
“Have carved out a completely new country?” Cece suggested sweetly, stifling the impulse to show Linnea precisely the type of damage one standardless American girl could do to one smug British face.
Linnea shrugged, as if there was no need to respond to a comment she clearly considered ludicrous.
“I will not debate the merits of my country with you, however.” Cece smiled wickedly with unexpected inspiration. “There are a vast number of men in my country who have a great deal of ingenuity, exactly like Jared. With their creativity and inventiveness, those men have made a considerable amount of money.”
“She leaned closer to Linnea, as if revealing a confidence. “I have even heard it said that, today, there are more men worth millions in my country than anywhere else in the world.”
Cece had no idea if her statement was true or not, but it had a convincing ring. Her words hit their mark, and a speculative gleam appeared in Linnea’s eye.
“And Linnea,” she cast the widow a knowing smile, “a great many of them are…elderly.”
“Mature,” Linnea murmured vaguely.
“Old,” Cece said with a firm note. She could see the gears and wheels of Linnea’s mind working as clearly as she could see the inner mechanics of Jared’s automobile.
“I think it’s admirable that the British pride themselves so on their standards and their heritage. But it does make it all so much more lamentable, don’t you think?”
“Lamentable?” Linnea’s brow drew together in puzzlement. “What ever do you mean, ‘lamentable’?”
“Well,” Cece sighed and shook her head in feigned melancholy, “it simply seems to me, in many cases, your fortunes are as old as your history. The inspiration that created the wealth originally is long gone. And without a continuing infusion of fresh funds,” she shrugged, “some of your best families have already found themselves forced to sell family heirlooms and forge alliances through marriage with those with substantially lower standards. Americans,” Cece struggled not to choke on the words, “like myself.”
“Quite,” Linnea said thoughtfully. “Do go on.”
“Jared’s automobile has unlimited potential. It could very well be the vehicle of the next century.”
“And?” Linnea prompted.
“And…” Cece paused, drawing out the moment. The time was right to press home her point. “Everyone will want to buy one.”
Linnea’s eyes widened, and she fluttered her fan before her face. “Everyone?”
“Everyone.” Cece nodded in confirmation. “It simply stands to reason. If Jared wishes to produce automobiles, there shall surely be a market for them. Why, look at how popular telephones and electric lights have become.”
“And profitable,” Linnea said under her breath.
“Indeed.” Cece bit back a satisfied smirk. “As the inventor and manufacturer, Jared would doubtlessly double his family’s fortune in no time.”
“No time at all,” Linnea agreed, a somewhat stunned expression on her face.
“Given all that, I can’t imagine why every single one of these people here aren’t slapping Jared on the back and applauding his British ingenuity. I should even think,” Cece lowered her voice, and Linnea leaned toward her to catch her words, “some of those with a bit of business acumen and a little foresight would even wish to invest in this endeavor.”
She fanned her face and studied Linnea with a surreptitious eye. The woman looked very much like a cat discovering the untold possibilities of delight to be found in a dairy barn. Cece couldn’t resist one final jab to ensure that the woman understood her point. “My father says—you have met my father, haven’t you? He’s the American with all that money?”
Linnea nodded mutely.
“I thought you’d met.” She smiled sweetly and mentally crossed her fingers against the tale she prepared to spin. “My father says anyone would be a fool not to invest in something with as much obvious potential for the future as automobiles. I’m fairly certain he plans on investing quite heavily.”
“How very interesting,” Linnea said under her breath.
“Oh, dear.” Cece widened her eyes in a stricken expression of dismay. “I really should not have been discussing such things. Father will be furious if he thinks I’ve discussed important business secrets.” And furious as well if he knew how very skilled his daughter was at fabrication. She pushed the guilty thought aside. Surely, given the opportunity, Henry White would indeed consider Jared’s automobile a good investment.
She laid a pleading hand on the older woman’s arm and gazed innocently into her eyes. “Please don’t repeat this to anyone.”
Linnea patted her hand sympathetically. “Of course not, my dear. Why, I shall simply forget this conversation ever took place.”
Cece breathed a sigh of relief. “I would be ever so grateful.”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me?” Linnea cast her a polite but impatient smile and turned away, eager to do what? Corner her banker, perhaps?
Cece grinned to herself. At least she now had Linnea seeing Jared’s work in a different, potentially profitable light. Hopefully, she would pass her newly acquired appreciation of his activities along and, with just the barest luck, others would feel the same way. All they really needed was to have their eyes opened. Determination filled her to do just that, even if it meant prying each and every eye open by force.
Still, Linnea was perhaps a bit more motivated by financial interests than most. Surely there was something else she could do to convince these people to see what Jared was doing not as menial and lower class but as fine and noble.
She cast her gaze around the room and caught sight of Jared sauntering toward her. The man moved with a stride cool, assured, even arrogant. A rakish smile skimmed his lips and his dark eyes danced in his handsome face. Relief battled with concern at his approach. Surely his behavior indicated that he didn’t know of the rumors c
irculating. She hated to be the one to tell him. She drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. But who better than she?
His gaze met hers and even at a distance she noted the blue of his eyes burning richer when it meshed with hers. Her resolve melted with her knees, and for the merest moment she wanted to forget all about rumor and scandal and even automobiles and let him wrap her in his arms.
“Forgive me, my love, for ignoring you.” Jared took her gloved hand in his and brushed his lips suggestively across the back. Something deep inside her fluttered at his touch. “I had some…er, business to attend to.”
His words brought back the matter at hand. “Jared,” she said quietly, “everyone knows.”
“I believe this is our dance.” He pointedly ignored her comment, placed her hand in the crook of his arm and led her the few steps to the dance floor.
“Did you understand what I said?” Her terse tone belied the public smile she plastered on her face.
He took her in his arms and they danced together as easily as if one were made for the other. Cece barely noticed.
“I understood you perfectly,” Jared said, his tone casual.
“You certainly are taking it well.” Suspicion colored her words.
“It was inevitable that it would come out sooner or later, I suppose.” He quirked a resigned smile. “I shall just have to make the best of it. It wasn’t my idea to keep it secret in the first place.”
Cece stared, surprised by the note in his voice. “Are you suggesting James’s advice to keep your work quite was wrong?”
Jared laughed shortly. “I have rarely thought my brother was wrong about anything. I never questioned him. Now I am beginning to see no small number of things he might have handled better, or at least differently.”
She leveled him a curious gaze. “What kinds of things?”
Jared shrugged. “Nothing of any major significance. I’ve just found some items dealing with estate management, accounting, varied and sundry business practices that can be improved. No doubt James would have found them himself if he had lived.”
“How did James die, Jared?” Cece said quietly. Jared pulled her a little tighter and his eyes darkened. She added quickly, “I apologize. If it’s too painful—”
“It’s not.” A muscle ticked in the tense line of his jaw. “It was an accident.”
He steered her to the edge of the dance floor, plucked two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and escorted her to French doors that opened onto a terrace. They stepped out into the cool night air and walked in companionable silence for several moments. Finally Jared drew a deep breath.
“James drowned. In that same little pond you drove into that first day. He was alone. And he died.”
The setting flashed into her mind: the road from the stable running along a modest ridge, the pasture falling away to the small valley, the water below. From what she’d seen the pond was not especially deep.
“How did it happen?” she said softly.
Jared’s eyes appeared very far away, as if he were once again seeing the scene replayed in his mind. “No one knows for certain. It had been raining. We believe his horse slipped on the wet grass and threw him. He must have hit his head and rolled down the hill into the pond.” Jared paused, as if choosing his words or his memories. “That’s where I found him.”
“You found him?”
Jared nodded.
“I see.” She pulled her brows together and considered her next question carefully. “I thought the stables with your motorcars was the only building on that road.”
“It is.” He paused and shook his head. “I still have no idea why James was there. At first I thought he had come to find me. I used to spend a great deal more time working on the automobiles than I do now. But then I realized that James knew I was still in London. He didn’t expect me at the castle for several days.”
“So he couldn’t have been looking for you?”
Jared shook his head. “No.”
How very odd. What could Jared’s brother possibly have been doing on that little-used section of the estate?
“I daresay we’ll never know why he was there. At any rate, I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore.” Jared frowned and eyed her over the rim of his glass. “What does matter now is how to weather this storm of scandal.”
“Jared, I don’t care—” she snapped her fingers in his face “—that much about what these people think.”
“Perhaps not.” His tone was wry. “But if we are to live with these people, as you so charmingly call them, in this society—my society, I might add—I would prefer that the Earl and Countess of Graystone be respected, not forever haunted by the taint of manual labor.”
She raised a skeptical brow. “And just what do you suggest we do?”
“I don’t know,” he said sharply. “I’ve never been in this situation before. Any other time I’ve been touched by scandal I’ve quite enjoyed it. I’ve never tried to repair the social damage I caused.”
“Well, what have you done before?” she snapped.
He grit his teeth. “Usually I do something to make the problem a little worse by thumbing my nose at the lot of them.”
“Why don’t you simply do that now?” Her words were clipped with exasperation.
“Now, I’m the bloody earl!” He ground out the words, his voice barely under control, his eyes flashing. “Before, I was the second son. Nobody expected any better of me. I could do what I damned well pleased.”
She cast him a glare of frustration. “Well, I’m not the earl and I can still do what I damn well please! I’m an American. They don’t expect anything better from me. I can certainly thumb my nose at them if that’s what I wish, and I should derive a great deal of plea sure from the act to boot.”
“And just how do you propose to do that?” Ire and sarcasm dripped from his words.
“How?” Her mind grasped for answers. How, indeed? What one thing would show those sanctimonious snobs she didn’t care one whit for their haughty, old-fashioned ways of looking at the world? At once the answer struck her with the clarity of fine crystal.
“That’s it, of course. It’s perfect. We’ll show them you’re not tainted and their absurd way of looking at the world doesn’t mean anything at all. We can announce it to night. It won’t stop the talk altogether, I suppose,” she paused to corral her ricochetting thoughts. “But it will give them all something else to gossip about.”
“Announce what?” Jared’s brows furrowed with apprehension. “What are you planning?”
“It is perhaps the most interesting idea I’ve ever had.” She beamed with modest triumph. “I’ll simply have to marry you.”
“Marry me!” He gasped.
“Yes, thank you, I’d be honored,” she said primly.
He glared, outrage shadowing his eyes. “That was not a proposal.”
She shrugged and waved her fan lightly. “It certainly sounded like one to me.”
“Well, it wasn’t.” He looked like a little boy about to stomp his foot in a fit of vexation.
“You don’t want to marry me?” She widened her eyes and bit her lower lip in an excellent imitation of crushed feelings. “I thought you loved me!”
“Of course I love you. And I do want to marry you.” Jared shook his head, as if to clear the confusion apparent on his face. “But when I ask you to marry me, it shall be my idea.”
“I thought it was always your idea,” she said innocently.
He stared for a long moment; then understanding dawned in his eyes. He pulled her tight against him, her hands flattened between his chest and hers.
“I had always assumed, when I asked a woman to wed, even an American, even you,” he growled the words, and the intensity in his gaze muddled her thoughts and stole her will, “it would be at my instigation, not hers. The act would be in my hands alone.”
“Everything seems to be very much in your hands,” she said breathlessly.
“Is it?” The
midnight of his eyes drew her into their depths until she wondered if she would glimpse his soul, and he would glimpse hers.
“Will you marry me?”
For once Cecily Gwendolyn White could only nod speechlessly.
“Excellent.”
His eyes smoldered and his voice simmered with the rich promise of all her silent agreement meant. He bent to touch his lips to hers and she strained forward until their breath mingled.
“Oh dear,” she blurted. “I nearly forgot.” Her words brushed against his lips.
He groaned with obvious frustration and pulled back to stare at her. “What is it now?”
“Perhaps this is not the right time.” She gazed at the desire on his face and wished she hadn’t stopped his relentless progress toward another of his rather awe-inspiring kisses.
“What?” he demanded sharply.
“I simply wanted to say you really should talk to my father.” Her voice was a sigh of longing. “To ask him for my hand.”
Amusement glittered in his eyes. He pulled her closer, and she melted into his arms. And just before his lips claimed hers he laughed softly.
“I already have.”
“…and I should therefore wish to propose a toast.” Henry White lifted his glass in a salute to Cecily and Jared. The hushed crowd in the ballroom followed suit. “May you find laughter, prosperity and joy. In life. In children. And, above all else, in each other.”
Murmurs of agreement and approval rolled through the gathering. There certainly was nothing like the surprise announcement of a betrothal to soften even the stuffiest hearts. Oh, it hadn’t quieted the snide jibes about Jared’s inventive nature, but it had thrown the dogs of gossip a new bone to chew. It had also proven, once and for all, the worthiness of the soon-to-be Countess of Graystone.
Olivia surveyed the happy couple by her side and could barely contain her delight. Certainly when Jared informed her of his engagement, a scant few minutes before Henry White announced it publicly, she was taken aback momentarily. It was not precisely how she had expected Cecily to handle this last test. Still, she had to admit the girl had finally gained her complete admiration. What better way to display courage and loyalty to a man, and to a family, than to declare to all the world your pledge to stand by his side forever?
The Princess and the Pea Page 24
