by Alice Gaines
“There are, however, some problems,” Mrs. Oxley said. “For one, your brother.”
“My brother’s a viscount,” Jason said.
“And a decent, upstanding man, I’m sure.” Mrs. Oxley looked straight ahead at her son’s game with Lily. “But he has odd theories, and he acts on them.”
“Lily and your son would have their own household,” Jason said.
Mrs. Oxley’s head snapped around to stare at him.
“With you, of course,” he said. “I only meant that they wouldn’t live with my brother.”
“They would visit. I won’t have my son injured by one of his experiments.”
“They’re mostly harmless. He’s never hurt anyone but himself, and only minor injuries.”
“Well enough. I’d imagine you’d be there to oversee things,” she said.
“Of course. Mr. Swan’s trusted me with his daughter. You could safely do the same with your son.”
“I suppose.” She sat in silence for a moment, watching her son like a mother hawk. “There’s also a question of your own behavior.”
“Mine?”
“Your . . . how shall I put this . . . absence that night.”
“I can explain that.” Although he couldn’t, really. The story didn’t bear up under scrutiny.
“There’s talk of you and that Rushford woman.”
“Lady Rushford is my neighbor, nothing more.”
Mrs. Oxley stared at him. Trying to read him, no doubt. “Indeed.”
“Indeed,” he repeated. “She keeps herself to Carlton House. Once I’ve ended the lease on Hollyfield, I doubt our paths will cross again.”
Delightful. He’d apologized for his brother and denied his feelings for Bess, all within less than a minute. Disgrace followed by dishonesty. If he concentrated on his little sister taking her place as a duchess, perhaps he could forget how she’d gotten there.
“I’m sure it’s all quite innocent,” she said. “But it doesn’t look good.”
“It won’t look like anything at all,” he answered. “There’ll be nothing further to discuss.”
“Good. That only leaves one thing.” She folded her napkin, set it on the table, and smoothed it out. “Who is that dark-skinned man?”
“Vajra? He’s my—” He stopped himself before he blurted out the word “partner.” Any whiff of him being in trade would sour this arrangement for certain. “He’s a friend I made in India.”
“You made friends among the natives there?” Her tone on the word “natives” was an icy one, indeed.
“Some. Vajra is the son of a Rana,” Jason said. “He’s royalty, in fact.”
“He’s not planning to marry into your family, is he?”
What a thoroughly unpleasant woman. He ought to have suspected this from her, but her lack of respect for someone because of the color of the fellow’s skin rankled. He took a soothing breath before answering. “As I only have the one sister, I think that unlikely.”
She gazed toward where Will and Lily continued their game, still laughing.
“My son’s a sensitive boy. Your sister seems to make him happy.”
“Lily makes everyone happy.”
“I think we can come to an arrangement,” she said.
Jason let out his first easy breath since this interview had started. He’d done it. His plan had actually worked. He’d see his precious sister married to a duke and mother to the heir.
Just then, Lily’s heel got caught in the hem of her dress, and she took a tumble onto the lawn, giggling. Will stood over her, laughing even harder.
“You think that’s funny, do you?” she called up to him.
“Wouldn’t you?” he said back.
“See how funny this is.” Lily grabbed his heel and tugged until he toppled to the soft grass beside her. Soon, they were both laughing as if they’d invented some new joke.
Beside Jason, Mrs. Oxley stiffened. “She’s still wild. I’d watch that if I were you.”
*
Jason paced the study, waiting for Lily to arrive. Although Thomas, the head of the family, was in attendance, he most likely wouldn’t realize the importance of making this match for their sister and would spout some new theory on the subject he’d arrived at after reading a book about baboons. Grace would support whatever her husband said. The task would fall to Jason to explain the realities of a good marriage to Lily and insist, if he needed to, on her marrying her childhood friend. She would not take the lesson calmly.
She arrived, finally, and when she noticed that the entire family was in attendance, she tried to reverse her way out of the room.
“Come back here, young lady,” Jason ordered as he intercepted her and closed the door, barring her escape.
“What’s this about?” she asked, although the suspicious expression in her eyes said she had a good idea why they’d called for her.
“Our brother has news,” he said.
Thomas snapped out of whatever daydream possessed him at the moment. “I do?”
“We’ve discussed this, Thomas,” he said.
“Oh, yes, yes, that business,” Thomas said. “I say, Jason, are you quite sure?”
“It’s about me marrying Will, isn’t it?” Lily said.
“Your brother and I—” Thomas began.
“This isn’t any of your doing, Thomas,” Lily said. “It’s all Jason. I watched him bargaining with that dreadful woman.”
She said “bargaining” as if she might have meant selling her into service as a scullery maid.
“He’s going to turn me over to her like so much horseflesh,” she said.
“Horseflesh that’ll be a duchess,” Jason said. Couldn’t she give him a little credit for what he’d accomplished for her? For what he’d sacrificed?
“So that is what you’ve brought me here to tell me. You’ve made your choice for me, and I have no say in the decision.”
“A girl your age has no sense in these matters,” Jason said.
Lily turned toward her sister-in-law. “How old were you when you decided to marry Thomas?”
“Please leave me out of this,” Grace answered. She always did have a decent head on her shoulders.
“You’re part of the family and the only other woman here,” Lily said.
“I was your age, and my marriage was arranged while your father was still alive,” Grace said.
“But you two love each other. It’s not the same thing.” Lily began to pace up and down across the carpet. She could be obstinate when crossed, but her normal sweet nature usually returned quickly. By the frenzy of her movements, she didn’t appear likely to oblige this time. “I don’t love Will.”
“I don’t love Miss Swan, but she’s the perfect match for me,” Jason replied. At least, she would be as soon as he could get her to stop giggling over his kisses and respond with anything that remotely resembled passion. Had Bess ever giggled over someone’s kisses? And when in bloody hell would he begin to forget about Bess?
Lily stopped pacing and raised her arms in supplication to her elder brother. “You know this is nonsense. You know you can’t abide Miss Swan and she’ll never make Jason happy. You’re the head of the family. For heaven’s sake, do something.”
Thomas appeared a bit perplexed for a moment. His normal state, actually. Finally, he glanced to Grace for guidance and she just gazed at him as if he could do no wrong. Her normal state, too. With no help there, he appealed to Jason. “Is all this strictly necessary?”
“We’ve been over it and over it,” Jason answered. Of course, as soon as the conversation had ended, one of Thomas’s experiments drove it completely from his mind. “Will and Lily have known each other since childhood. They’ve always adored each other.”
“As friends,” Lily shouted.
Jason gave her a warning glare, so she went back to pacing.
“If she marries a duke and I marry a well-bred young woman who’s related to a duke, it strengthens our family’s position immeasu
rably,” Jason said.
“It’s impeccable logic,” Grace said.
“Not you, too,” Lily wailed.
“Your brother’s right. Your sister-in-law is right,” Thomas said finally. “You’ll marry Will.”
“I won’t,” she said but without much conviction. As part of a close-knit family, she’d always valued their advice and always accepted it, though sometimes under protest. She’d obey this time, too, and the last hurdle would had been jumped. They only needed one last lavish occasion to make the wedding announcement. Then he could close up Hollyfield and finally pay attention to the plans for his own wedding.
*
This party would be even more lavish than the last one. After all, they’d be announcing the upcoming marriage of a duke to the loveliest young lady in England, Jason’s sister Lily. Imrey had hired extra help several days before so that everything would sparkle, from the marble floor to the huge chandelier that would light the dancers. Candles blazed in the dining room, so many it almost seemed like daylight. Cook had spared no expense and had bought out everything expensive and fresh from the surrounding countryside. Fish from the local streams, squab, a haunch of beef, aged cheeses. Then she’d spent the last twelve hours working her staff into exhaustion to create a meal the guests would speak of for months.
Everything moved smoothly with laughter, music, and scintillating conversation. Jason ought to have relaxed, but he wouldn’t enjoy himself until the formal announcement had been made with the duke’s mother looking on in approval. His Lily would become Lady Latimore, Duchess of Latimore. She’d be presented at court and turn every head there. Prinny would admire her, as would the rest of the ton. She’d receive the respect she deserved, and he would have kept the vow he’d made to himself when their parents died. He’d have taken care of her as well as they could have.
As the gathering moved into the late hours of the night and the crowd tired of dancing, the time came for supper and the moment he’d waited for for years. In pairs, the guests entered the dining room, still buzzing with talk of what a splendid evening it had been so far. They exclaimed at the lavish settings with gleaming silver and fine china and crystal.
Will escorted Lily, and Mrs. Oxley allowed Jason to lead her to a seat on his left. Only one person was missing. His brother had disappeared some time earlier and still hadn’t rejoined his wife. That might have reassured Jason, as Thomas presented the only true threat to the perfect order he’d established. Unfortunately, if Jason couldn’t keep his eye on Thomas, he couldn’t be absolutely sure what he was doing. An explosion or fire from another part of the house could disturb things as completely as a social misstep in the middle of the party.
Once he had Mrs. Oxley seated, he approached Grace where she sat next to the empty chair Thomas should have occupied.
“Do you know where my brother’s gotten himself to?” he asked softly.
“I don’t.” She didn’t appear concerned, but then she took everything her husband did in stride.
“Did he say anything about where he was going?”
She thought for a moment. “He didn’t tell me anything, but I know he was excited about this engagement.”
Thomas excited wasn’t a picture likely to reassure. As clever as he was eccentric, the man might dream up any number of ways to celebrate—none of them something that polite society would find acceptable. Jason couldn’t sneak out to find his brother with the big moment approaching, but he could send someone. He glanced around and found Peter approaching the table with Harriett Ellsford on his arm. Of course, her mother followed right behind. Sarah would realize he had a problem on his hands with his older brother. Nothing to do about that.
Jason sidled up to Peter and leaned toward him. “I need a favor.”
“Anything,” Peter answered.
“Find my brother and see what he’s up to.”
“The viscount isn’t here?” Peter said.
“He isn’t, and I’m afraid he’s cooking up some mischief or other.”
Peter turned to Miss Ellsford. “I hope you’ll excuse me.”
Miss Ellsford curtseyed. “Of course.”
Jason took her arm and led her to her seat next to the vicar. The young man looked downcast for some reason and hardly noticed the young lady by his side. In fact, he’d already helped himself to some wine, and from the shakiness of his pouring, it seemed he’d had a bit to drink beforehand. Wonderful—a missing viscount and a tipsy vicar. This could be developing into something more memorable than he’d imagined, and in all the wrong ways.
The staff stood ready to serve the soup course, and it would get cold if they didn’t begin the meal soon. The others had taken their seats with only a few stragglers still settling in. With no choice in the matter, Jason took his place at the head of the table, Mrs. Oxley and her son on one side of him and his sister on the other.
The young duke stared down at his soup as if it held the answer to some fascinating secret. That was normal enough. Lily’s expression matched the vicar’s, although she hadn’t had anything to drink, thank heaven. She absolutely would not look Jason in the face but avoided eye contact. Well enough. She could be as angry at him as she liked as long as she behaved herself.
He turned toward Mrs. Oxley. “Is the soup to your liking?”
“Delicious,” she answered, her spoon lifted and her little finger curled regally. “You keep an excellent kitchen, captain.”
“It will only improve after my marriage,” he said.
Miss Swan gazed at him serenely from her place between her parents at the other end of the table. She wore the same pleasant expression she always wore. Lovely, and unmoved by any strong emotion.
“Ah, yes,” Mrs. Oxley said. “Perhaps we could make it a double wedding.”
“Delightful idea, but I think each of the brides deserves her own day in the sun, don‘t you?”
Lily fairly glowered at him. He gave her a stern glance in return. She’d marry the duke, and she’d be happy about the prospect, or they’d have another family discussion.
“Is the viscount joining us this evening?” Mrs. Oxley asked.
“I believe he’s been detained.” Lord only knew with what. Jason could hope that Thomas hadn’t thought of any dramatic contributions to the gathering. Thomas’s absence was starting to grate on his nerves.
By the time the soup course had ended and the staff had removed that and replaced it with the fish, Jason could scarcely sit in his chair, and the conversations around him had slipped into the background. Peter hadn’t reappeared, either. Not a good sign.
Lily sat in silence, staring at a spot on the opposite wall. Much like her intended, but not in keeping with her normal lively self. The vicar had stopped drinking, but that hadn’t done anything to improve his humor, which remained glum, to say the least. Something odd going on there. Another day Jason might worry about it, but the Church of England’s opinion on the proceedings hardly mattered, at least until he found his brother.
Finally, Peter slinked back into the room. He wound his way to Jason’s side as unobtrusively as possible, and indeed, it seemed few of the guests followed his movements, engaged as they were in conversation.
“I found him,” Peter whispered into Jason’s ear.
“Where is he?”
“In his rooms . . . rehearsing a piece on his violin.”
“Good Lord,” Jason said. “Not the violin.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Did you tell him to leave it behind and come down to dinner?” Jason said.
“I made the suggestion.”
“Suggestion?” Jason said loudly enough to attract the attention of the people around him.
“He’s a viscount,” Peter said. “I can’t order him to do anything.”
Jason tossed his napkin on the table. “Well, I can.”
Lily caught his arm. “This is my party, I believe, and if Thomas wants to play, I want to hear him.”
“No, you don’t.”
She raised her chin in her most obstinate manner. “I do.”
Mrs. Oxley turned and took in their conversation, one eyebrow rising. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing at all,” Jason said. “A small disagreement. Easily settled, I assure you.”
She appeared unconvinced, but then, she’d never seemed completely comfortable with this match. Those newly risen to a high station in society often strived too hard for respectability, while people more familiar with the role relaxed into their status. Jason’s family had occupied the viscountcy for several generations and now happily produced all sorts of idiosyncrasy . . . such as his brother’s odd ideas and even odder violin performances. He’d better stop this one—and his sister’s fit of disobedience—before they soured the deal with Mrs. Oxley entirely.
“Excuse me a moment,” he said to the woman before rising. A few seconds too late, as Thomas was just entering the dining room, his favorite instrument under his arm.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Thomas announced. “As a gift to my sister and her intended on this glorious occasion—”
Jason got to him and turned Thomas around before he could complete his little speech. “Do sit down and join us. You’ve already missed the soup.”
“I’ll have plenty to eat with the other courses,” Thomas happily told him. “I’ve composed a little piece especially for this occasion.”
“I say, why don’t you sing something later?” Jason said. “I’m sure one of the ladies can accompany you on the piano.”
“But I haven’t prepared anything to sing,” his brother said.
“You needn’t prepare. You sang beautifully at Lady Rushford’s dinner party.” Damn, why had he mentioned Bess? He was already on shaky ground because of his relationship with her. He’d done his best to convince everyone they had no relationship, in fact, and now he’d brought up her name.
“But I don’t want to sing,” Thomas said. “I want to play the violin.”
