by Alice Gaines
Jason glanced at Grace, his gaze begging her for help. In response, she gave her husband one of her adoring smiles. “Why don’t you sit down and eat, Hadleigh?”
“In a moment, my dear,” Thomas answered as he lifted his violin to his shoulder and raised the bow.
Jason reached for the instrument and stopped Thomas for the moment, but a few seconds later, Lily rose from her chair and lifted her chin, looking out over the throng as if she were daring anyone to defy her.
“I want to hear my brother play,” she declared. “He’s the head of the family. Why shouldn’t he do what he wants?”
“Lily,” Jason warned.
“And don’t try to quiet me. I may be a female, but my mind is every bit as keen as yours, and I know what’s right. I say let’s hear Thomas’s composition.”
“I’d like to hear it,” Lady Deauville tossed in. Ever happy to cause problems for Jason, even if it might not gain her anything. Or perhaps it would, or she’d calculate some way in which she could benefit from a social catastrophe at this particular dinner. In any case, she gave him a smile that was more like a smirk. “Lord Hadleigh is quite musically talented. If he’s gifted Lady Rushford with a performance, I’d like to enjoy him as well.”
“There, you see?” Lily declared, her glare more obstinate than ever.
“Very well.” Thomas lifted his bow again and set it to the strings of the violin. “I call this Air for a Lovely Young Girl.”
Thomas then proceeded to saw away at the strings, making the most ungodly sound Jason could remember, and he’d been captive at several of Thomas’s impromptu performances. Impossible to tell if Thomas had actually composed the piece that way or if it was his lamentable playing that made it resemble a trio of cats with their tails caught in a vice. Some of the guests covered their ears, while others simply sat with pained expressions. Sarah continued to smile as if she’d enjoyed a triumph of some kind. Mrs. Oxley went pale, all of the color draining from her face in a matter of seconds. Disaster. Utter disaster.
Jason reached for the violin again. “Thomas. Please. Enough.”
His brother finally stopped playing. “You don’t want to hear the rest?”
“Of course I do,” Jason said. “But privately, later.”
“Very well.” Thomas handed the violin to one of the footmen and took his seat next to Grace. An embarrassed silence fell over the party. After a moment, a few people tittered behind their fingers. They’d need to get past this moment and quickly if the evening were to be the success he’d hoped for to launch his sister into the haute ton.
The sister in question still stood beside the table, still hoping for a fight, if her stance told him anything. He’d watched her since she’d been a little child, and when she got her spine up, she’d happily take on any opponent.
“That was wonderful, Thomas,” she declared. “Don’t you think so, Lady Deauville?”
“Delightful,” Sarah answered smoothly. She didn’t mean it, of course, as anyone could plainly see. In fact, her agreement was meant as an insult to the family in general. The titters grew louder. Some people averted their eyes in chagrin.
“What are you laughing at?” Lily demanded of no one in particular and everyone. No one answered that, of course, as things became more and more uncomfortable. Some actually squirmed in their seats.
Lily’s face flushed with anger, and she stamped her foot. “I think you’re all horrid.”
Mrs. Oxley gasped. “Young lady!”
“Thomas is the best brother a young woman could hope for,” Lily said, pointing toward Thomas. “I won’t have you insult him.”
“It doesn’t matter, pet,” Thomas said. “Sit down and eat your fish.”
“But it does matter,” Lily said.
No one said a word, and eventually Lily resumed her seat, obviously seething with anger. An awkward situation all around.
“Well, then . . .” Jason cleared his throat. “What say we move onto the next course?”
The footmen removed the largely uneaten fish, as if it were responsible for the display they’d just witnessed. At least the clink of china made a pleasant noise, and the servants had the good sense to fill all the wine glasses.
Ever in her element when she’d managed to embarrass someone else, Sarah lifted her goblet. “Here’s to music. I imagine yours is somewhat different in your homeland, Mr. Singh.”
“We’re learning English customs, Lady Deauville,” Vajra answered.
“I’m sure that’s so,” she said. “But one hears so many exotic stories about India.”
“Exotic only refers to what one doesn’t know,” Vajra said. “Indian things are normal for me. England seems more mysterious.”
“Especially our marriage customs,” the vicar said sourly as he stared into his wine. “They must seem positively medieval.”
“Ours are on the rigid side, too,” Vajra said.
“With no concern for what the young lady wants?” the vicar asked.
“I’m afraid I must defer to people more knowledgeable than me on the subject,” Vajra said.
What was going on here? He’d invited the vicar as a matter of course. He was a young man, not what one generally expected of the representative of the Church of England in his position. The fellow might well be a drunkard. Such things did happen, and Jason wouldn’t have heard about that in normal conversation. Still, he seemed to have taken some personal tragedy from the happy occasion, and that made no sense at all.
“Do tell us about your adventures in India, Lieutenant Weston,” Sarah said. “Captain Northcross is so quiet on the subject one can’t help but wonder if he isn’t hiding something.”
“There’s nothing of interest to tell,” Peter said.
“Not true, Lady Deauville, the two of them were perfect hell-raisers,” Vajra said.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Jason said.
Vajra had had a bit of the nectar of the grape himself. In fact, the whole party had drunk more than would normally be expected. The staff kept pouring and pouring. Jason had better get the formal part of the evening over before some new calamity descended on his plans.
“Spicy food, spicy drink.” Vajra winked at Sarah. “Spicy women.”
“Do tell all,” she responded.
Jason shot out of his chair and lifted his glass in order to make the announcement of Lily’s engagement. “I’d like to take this opportunity—”
“Jason could be a holy terror,” Vajra said. “I remember one argument he had with a certain spice merchant. Fat fellow, used to having his way, especially with Englishmen.”
Sarah arched a brow. “A spice merchant. What quaint people one encounters in military service.”
“‘Twasn’t about the army, my lady,” Vajra said. “But about some of our personal business.”
Dear God, Vajra wasn’t about to tell that story, was he? They’d spoken about their business and how the ton wouldn’t approve of his being in trade. Could he have forgotten?
“I say, old fellow,” Jason said. “We don’t want to bring this up just now—”
Vajra wasn’t paying attention, though. He laughed heartily, even pounding the table with his palm. “Jason launched into him with Hindi most Englishmen have never heard.”
Mrs. Oxley put her hand over her ample bosom. “You speak Hindi, Captain?”
“A few words,” he sputtered. “One picks such things up.”
“Not like that,” Vajra said. “Nearly blistered the merchant’s ears. He never tried to cheat us on a shipment again.”
“Shipment?” Sarah said. “Why would you be taking a shipment from a spice merchant?”
“Why, for our business, of course.” Vajra lifted his glass. “Our little company’s profits probably paid for this wine.”
“Business,” Mrs. Oxley repeated. “Am I to understand that you’re in the spice trade?”
Jason’s stomach sunk toward his knees. “I suppose you could look at it that way.”
&nbs
p; “Wait for the dessert course,” Vajra said. “It’ll probably have some of our cardamom in it.”
“Cardamom,” Mrs. Oxley intoned as if the word might have meant Beelzebub. She tossed her napkin onto the table and rose. “I don’t even know what that is.”
“It’s—” Vajra said.
Mrs. Oxley turned a withering stare on Vajra. “I don’t care to learn it from the likes of you.”
At that, the whole company gasped. They’d seldom seen such a spectacle, and they’d memorize every moment so that they could repeat them ad nauseam in the years to come.
“Is this individual your partner in business, Captain Northcross?” Mrs. Oxley demanded.
“He is.” No point denying it now. Besides, Vajra would stand next to him in a tight spot. He deserved the same consideration.
“Then our arrangement is at an end,” Mrs. Oxley said. “Come along, Will.”
At that, she swept from the room so quickly her son could scarcely keep up. The young man only hesitated for a moment to give Lily a shy smile and bow toward Jason. Then he was gone, too.
Not to be outdone in his outrage, Mr. Swan also got to his feet at the other end of the table. “What do you have to say for yourself, Captain Northcross?”
Jason searched his mind for something—anything—to say about the evening’s disaster and why it didn’t make him out to be the most disreputable fellow on Earth. Who could have imagined that a fine young man like him would speak Hindi well enough to blister the ears of a spice merchant or would have the very bad taste to go into business with someone whose skin wasn’t an acceptable color?
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, so he simply waved a hand in the air.
“I thought so.” Mr. Swan straightened to his full height. “I’ve had my doubts about you, for reasons I won’t mention in deference to the ladies present.”
Meaning his association with Bess, no doubt. Why not add that to his sins as well? While they were at it, they could blame him for the loss of the colonies in America and the king’s madness. He was the lowest of the low. Beneath scorn. Not worthy of trampling under his daughter’s slippers.
“I must say I hadn’t expected all this, though,” Swan went on. “The lot of you belong in Bedlam, and I wouldn’t allow my daughter to marry into this family if His Majesty himself ordered it.”
“I must say I don’t like your tone.” Thomas rose. “My family is easily the equal of yours, and I won’t have them—us—insulted.”
“He’s a disgrace,” Swan said, pointing at Jason. “And you, sir, are a menace.”
“But Papa,” Miss Swan objected.
“Not a word, child,” he answered. “We’ll leave this place immediately.”
He made nearly as majestic an exit as Mrs. Oxley had before him, his wife and daughter in his wake. Miss Swan didn’t stop to glance back at Jason as the duke had at Lily, but then, Lily and Will actually liked each other.
“Well, this evening has certainly proved lively,” Sarah remarked, her smile positively lethal.
“I think I’ll go thrash that fellow,” Thomas declared.
Grace caught her husband’s arm. “My dear, please.”
“But he insulted all of us. I won’t stand for it.” With that, Thomas followed after Swan, and Peter charged after him. Peter was, after all, supposed to keep the viscount from behaving exactly as the viscount had just behaved. Peter would need help, though, to keep Thomas from bloodying the man’s nose, so Jason went right after his friend. Lily and Grace followed him, which meant that the entire Northcross family had left the scene of the disaster.
Chapter Nineteen
Jason let the company in the dining room take care of themselves for the rest of the evening and instead assembled with his siblings and sister-in-law in his study. He’d made a bloody mess of everything, or at least somehow had allowed what should have been a triumph to deteriorate to chaos of comedic proportions. The Northcrosses wouldn’t dare show their faces in polite drawing rooms for years to come for fear of causing hilarity. Thomas wouldn’t care, of course. Jason wouldn’t mind staying away from society, either, now that he thought of it. But what about Lily? This was her first and most promising season. After this, what would her future hold?
He scrubbed his hands over his face. “What happened here?”
“It was my playing, I’m afraid,” Thomas said. “Some people have no taste in music, it seems. I should have listened to you.”
“I can’t keep a civil tongue,” Lily said. “I’m too headstrong in company.”
“And I speak Hindi and sell cardamom,” Jason added. “We all ought to be taken out and whipped.”
Grace laughed. She covered her mouth, trying to stifle her mirth, but she kept right on, anyway. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to . . . it was all very funny.”
“Funny?” Jason repeated.
“That silly Mrs. Oxley, all puffed up. ‘Cardamom. Cardamom!’” Grace did a fair impression of the harpy, actually. And it was funny.
“And that Swan bastard,” Thomas said. “Imagine him thinking we aren’t good enough for that fluff-headed daughter of his.”
“You’re well rid of her, you know,” Lily said.
Perhaps he was. He hadn’t relished the lengthy and largely thankless of task of teaching her how to kiss, followed by coaxing her to allow him to undress her and then worming his fingers between her tightly clenched legs. Oh, dear Lord, how would he have managed all that without turning into a drunkard or worse out of pure sexual frustration? By the time he’d wrested her first climax from her, he would have hated the sight of her. And his father-in-law would have scrutinized him the entire time to make sure he wasn’t sneaking off somewhere to give his suffering cock relief. Did all men go through that with their virginal brides?
“You know I’m right,” Lily said. “I can see it on your face.”
“Who I marry isn’t the point,” he said. “I wanted the best for you. An earl at the very least.”
“But why, Jason?” Lily asked. “I have everything I’ll ever need with you and Thomas and Grace. The only thing I still want out of life is to marry a man I love.”
“I must admit I don’t understand completely, either,” Grace said. “Why was this match so important to you, Jason?”
“I wanted to do as well as Father would have done for you.” Jason pounded a fist against the top of the desk and rose. He’d planned for years, had worked so hard to make himself rich. He’d even agreed to sacrifice his own happiness for Lily, and she didn’t know why. Everything had fallen apart, and she seemed happy. The fact that he felt only relief didn’t help matters.
He walked to the fireplace, rested his hand on the mantle, and let the dust settle in his mind. Finally, when the picture there didn’t make any more sense, he turned back to study the people he most loved in the world—minus one. He’d failed them all, and he’d failed Bess, too, when it came right down to it.
“When Mother and Father died, I felt responsible for us all,” he said.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Thomas said. “I was the oldest.”
“You were so bereft, and you had your own responsibilities as the new viscount,” Jason said. “Lily was small. We needed an anchor. I wanted it to be me.”
“I wish you’d said something,” Thomas said.
“And add more to your burdens? No,” Jason said.
They all stared back at him with the love they’d always given him. As though he were some kind of hero when, in fact, he’d run off and left them for the army and had proved less than useless when he got home.
“When Grace came along, you were settled, Thomas,” he went on. “That only left the best husband for Lily. A match as good as our father would have made.”
“I can make my own match,” Lily said.
“Not as good as Will Oxley.”
“For the dozenth time, Will and I don’t care for each other that way.” Lily seemed ready to stamp her foot again. “He doesn’t e
ven like girls.”
“What do you mean he doesn’t like girls?” Jason asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. Something about men and women and men and men.” Lily waved a hand. “He told me about it, but I couldn’t make any sense of it.”
Jason glanced at Thomas and found his brother staring back, his eyes wide. They’d both had the same thought, obviously. The young man hadn’t given anything away in his manner, but then, as shy as he was, who would have noticed?
“Well, well. I’d say his mother’s in for a bit of a surprise,” Jason said.
“Yes, he wouldn’t have done at all,” Thomas added. “But where will we find Lily a husband?”
“Are you two really so blind?” Lily nearly shouted.
This time, both brothers stared at her. Another revelation like the last one, and Jason really would take to heavy drinking.
“I already know who I want to marry,” she said. “We’ve been in love for weeks.”
“With whom?” Jason and Thomas said together.
“With Mr. Youngblood, of course,” Lily said. “He’s the most magnificent man in the whole world.”
The name didn’t register for a moment. Which of the young men who’d followed Lily around like puppies were named Youngblood? He couldn’t think of any mothers or fathers by that name, either.
“Youngblood?” he finally asked.
“The vicar,” she answered. “The tall, handsome, brilliant, kind vicar.”
Yes, the fellow who’d seemed so distraught earlier at dinner. Pining for the love he was about to lose and drinking a great deal. He was young, tall, and handsome, and obviously in love with his sister. Good thing Jason hadn’t realized that, or he’d have beaten him off with a stick.
He stared at Lily. “After all this, you want to be a vicar’s wife?”
Lily glared back at him as if she’d never heard anything so stupid. “I don’t want to be any vicar’s wife. I want to be his wife.”
Thomas turned to Grace. “Did you know anything about this?”
“I suspected there was someone,” she answered. “I didn’t know who.”
Jason and Thomas exchanged glances again.
