A smile tugged at his lips as he raised her hand to them. “A debt that can never be repaid,” he confirmed.
“Apologies for what?” Tina was puzzled at the exchange. “Whose debt?” Obviously there was something going on here that she was unaware of.
Her grandmother turned back to her. “For being a bitter, stubborn old woman. But we will talk of it later. For now, I am glad to see you unhurt.” Turning to look out over the sea of color that was the ballroom, she asked, “And where is that brother of yours? I would speak with him as well.”
“He is here, somewhere.” Turning eyes bright with a sheen of moisture in them on Jay, her voice wobbled a bit when she asked him to find her grandmother a chair while she found Jon.
Jon did not believe her at first, when she found him. “Why would she want to speak with me?” he groused. “She ordered me out of her house the last time—the only time—I saw her.”
“I think she wants to make amends.” Tina’s eyes widened at his snort of disbelief. “She apologized to me. I think she wants to do the same to you. Now, come on. And, be nice.”
Jon allowed himself to be led to where Jay stood beside a chaise where their grandmother rested. The two men exchanged glances, but said nothing.
Leaving Jon with their grandmother, she allowed Jay to lead her out onto the floor for the first dance—a waltz—of the evening.
“I can’t believe she actually came—and spoke to me,” Tina’s eyes were shining brighter than the candles overhead. “When I sent the invitation, I wasn’t sure.”
“Perhaps she has finally realized what she is missing. She cannot bring back her husband or sons, but you and Jon, you are all the family she has left.”
“What did she mean by you being in her debt?”
Jay chuckled as he spun her into a turn. “I meant it originally as a joke, but, as I told her, it can never be repaid.” Looking down into the puzzled blue-green depths, he explained. “I told her once I was in her debt for ignoring you.”
Confusion warred with her conscience as color rose in her cheeks. When he looked down at her, his dark eyes brimming with warmth and tenderness, the cynic she’d become since the masquerade faltered. How could he look at her like that and not care for her?
“I will always wish I had hurried home when I first heard the rumor of Aaron’s death. Then you would not have suffered at Milton’s hands. But I will always be glad your grandmother did not take you under her wing.”
What was he saying? Was he truly glad they’d married? As for her, she knew she would have spent more time looking for the other half of her pendant. Perhaps none of the events of four nights ago would have happened at all had she found it.
Later, she sat beside her grandmother and listened to her talk about her father. “He would have been proud of you—of the way you and Jon turned out. His letters home were always so lighthearted and gay. In some ways, I envied him. He obviously loved your mother very much. It just took me too long to see it.”
“Jon showed me his portrait at Kent House. It looked very much as I remember him.”
The countess nodded. “Jon looks very much like him. I’m afraid I’ve had so much loss in my life, I didn’t recognize a lifeline when I saw it. Jon reminded me too much of your father.”
Reaching up, she unclasped the locket she wore and, releasing the catch, handed it to Tina. Tina stared in awe at the miniatures within. One side held a picture of her parents while from the other side she and Jon beamed up at the observer.
Tina suddenly recalled a part of the letter Lord Enderly had given her. It had described the locket her father had sent his mother at the same time as the letter to his friend. She remembered wondering if the dowager had discarded it, but discovering she wore it always gave Tina the courage to forgive the past. It could not have been easy for her grandmother to swallow her pride and admit her mistakes.
“Nona said she didn’t know if our grandmother would ever accept us,” Tina told Jon later. “I wish I could have told her about tonight.”
“I suspect Nona would have known, even if the cards did not tell her.” He looked out over the crowd for a moment, then turned back to her. “Have you spoken to Jay about his father’s will?”
She grimaced. “No. I’ve been too busy. Tomorrow.”
“Putting it off won’t make it any easier.”
“I’m not trying to put it off, but this soiree is all I’ve thought of for the past two days,” she snapped.
Jon merely looked at her for a few moments longer—long enough to make her uncomfortable—before replying, “Very well. I will stay out of it.”
Guilt washed over her. “I’m sorry, Jon.”
He shrugged a black-clad shoulder. “No need to be. It’s your marriage and your life. I need reminding occasionally that you no longer need me to look after you.”
She wanted to tell him that she would always need him, but held her tongue. Regardless of his words, she knew he would be there for her should she ask for his help.
*
Tina slept away a large portion of the next day. Exhaustion had finally claimed her after the soiree and its attendant excitement. By the time she awoke, it was after noon.
Ringing for Milly, she requested a light meal, then went into the dressing room to peruse her gowns. She wanted tonight to be a new beginning. It was time to repair her marriage. Studying the rainbow of gowns hanging there, she finally selected a burgundy silk, decorated with black trim. Someone else might look at it as if it were a just-out-of-mourning dress, but she knew that its shade enhanced her own coloring. Her skin would look milky white against the black trim, accentuating her own raven hued tresses. With it she wore the pendant.
Just before she left her room for dinner, she handed Milly the case for her pistols and instructed her to place it on her husband’s desk in the library.
Jay was not alone when she entered the drawing room. He had with him a tall, slender young man with golden hair and unusual eyes. He introduced him as his partner, Brand.
“Just Brand?” she inquired, accepting a glass of sherry from Jay.
“Just Brand, my lady,” he confirmed, bowing over her hand.
His eyes locked on the pendant and, for a moment, she thought she saw recognition in his eyes. A frisson of apprehension slithered down her spine at his expression and she held her breath waiting for him to speak.
“Then you must call me just Tina,” she insisted when he remained silent. “If we are to be friends, we may as well be informal.”
“Will Jon be joining us tonight?” Jay asked, an odd tone in his voice.
Tina looked over at him, noting the smoldering look in his eyes. “No. Not that I’m aware of. I think he’s planned to dine at his club, then look in on one or two card parties.”
“He is not expecting to see you at any of them, is he?”
“No. After last night, I’m giving myself another few days to rest before I attempt any outings.”
“Good,” he remarked, as Keyes announced dinner.
Tina turned to Brand, noting again his preoccupation with her pendant, and slipped her arm through his. “I’d love to hear more about your voyages,” she began as she led him from the room, leaving Jay to amble in their wake. “You must tell me about some of the more interesting places you have been.”
Tina set herself to be charming to their guest, although the last thing she wanted tonight was company. She didn’t want to make small talk with his partner, she wanted to talk to Jay. But Jay told her Brand was leaving the next morning with the tide, so she told herself she could extend herself for one more night. It had already been two days since her conversation with Mr. Strate, and tonight was still young.
Drawing Brand out, just as Felicia had Jay that long ago night at Thane Park, she found herself amazed at his depictions of faraway places. Places she might only dream of visiting someday—if ever. Brand was a gifted observer and his descriptions of people, places, and animals were so real she could almost f
eel them. Never had she met someone who could tell a story so vividly. Jay’s tales paled in comparison.
“I’m sure the West Indies or Caribbean would be lovely to visit, but I would settle for seeing Paris or Rome someday,” she told Brand.
“Perhaps a Mediterranean vacation would be a possibility next year,” Jay granted.
After Brand took his leave, Tina and Jay retired to the library. “I like him. Is he married?”
Jay looked up from his snifter of brandy. “No. Why?”
“I thought he might be a good candidate for Felicia. He wouldn’t bore her to death after the first dance. I think they might get along quite well.”
“And Jon accused me of matchmaking,” he commented, drawing a glance from her.
“Matchmaking? You? Who?”
“I was also thinking Felicia and Brand might suit.” He took a swallow of his brandy. “I promised her a duke, if you’ll recall.”
“She’ll forget all that once she gets to know him,” Tina predicted.
“Possibly.” Jay did not sound convinced, but Tina did not want to pursue this topic for now. Felicia would take care of herself in a few years, but now she had better things to do.
Tina wandered over to his desk and spied her case. Lifting the lid, she looked up at him just as he drained the rest of the brandy from his glass.
“Jay?”
He put the glass down and came to her side. “Hmmm?”
“Jon told me he gave you my pistols the night of the masquerade.” Looking down into the empty case, she continued, “Might I have them back?”
The silence in the room seemed to stretch for an inordinate amount of time. She didn’t have the courage to look up at him. She was afraid of what she might see. Anger. Displeasure. She wanted, no needed, him to understand.
Jay crossed behind her and opened the top drawer of the desk. A moment later, he laid the two small weapons beside the case. Taking a deep breath, she raised her eyes to his. The look in his eyes nearly stole that same breath away.
“I wish you’d told me you had these.” His voice held a note of regret. Was he really disappointed she hadn’t confided in him? Or was he piqued to find out she hadn’t needed his help? Either way, she knew what was really lacking was trust. He might not be able to put a name to it, but she could.
“I know I should have told you,” she said as she picked up each weapon, checked it, then fitted it into its space within the case. “But, I was afraid you might not trust me with them.” Glancing back up at his face, she continued, “I would not have felt as safe in public after I was pushed into the river, if I had not had them with me.”
He turned her into his arms then. “You have been carrying them since then?”
She nodded. “I had both of them on me every time I left the house—and one on me at all times, even when I was in the house.” She glanced at the open case, at the two small pistols nestled within. “Felicia and I devised a way to carry both so if one was ever taken away, we would always have the second one.”
He groaned. “Don’t tell me that Felicia has a set, too?”
She nodded again. “The set she has used to belong to Mama.”
“Where did you get them?”
“Papa gave them to me on my fourteenth birthday. He taught Jon and I both to use his own pistols.”
“And Felicia?”
“Jon and I taught her. After Mama died we gave her Mama’s set.”
“Did Jon know you were carrying them?”
Tina understood the hidden question and wondered anew how they had come so far on the surface without trusting each other. But, perhaps it was because it was all they had. On the surface, their marriage was perfect. They seemed the ideal couple, both adoring and attentive, in public as well as private. Yet, it had taken a crisis to realize their marriage lacked depth. Thinking she might have confided in Jon could cripple the fragile bond she was trying to forge.
She shook her head. “No, although he may have guessed. He knows I have them.”
His sigh of relief was not lost on her. But his next words were telling. “You should have trusted me.”
The same way you trusted me? No, she would not accuse. She wanted a discussion, not an argument.
She moved away from him. For a fraction of a second, she felt his arms tighten, then he let her go and she crossed the room to the fireplace to warm her suddenly chilled arms.
“I couldn’t,” she said, her voice strained. “I couldn’t take the chance you wouldn’t trust me with them.” She stood staring down into the flames for a long time before she continued. “Milton didn’t believe I would shoot him. Even after his encounter with Felicia, he did not believe I would do it.”
Jay was astounded. His father had become a different person after he left home. He knew he wouldn’t have recognized him had he returned before his death. He still had difficulty reconciling the father he’d known with the stepfather she and Jon often spoke of.
He continued to watch her in silence. He could feel the tension in the air, could feel her confusion and pain. But he sensed there was more, so he waited.
“I should have only wounded him, so the policemen could take him into custody,” she said in a voice so cold it could have frozen the fire she was standing before, “but he threatened you, and I was afraid we’d never be free of him.”
Jay moved then. Striding to her side, he turned her toward him and tipped her chin up so he could look into her eyes.
“Are you telling me you shot him because he threatened me?”
“Yes. No. I just didn’t want him to come back,” she said in a quiet voice. “I could have just shot him and made him drop his pistol. He was close enough I would not have missed, but I—I killed him instead.”
Her eyes had gone cold and dead. For a moment, he was at a loss. Once again she had surprised him into speechlessness. Yet, he did not blame her. He might not have been in the room, but he was certain that if she hadn’t killed Milton, Milton would have killed her.
“Why?” he finally found his voice.
“For Papa,” she answered. “He killed Aaron and it destroyed Papa. I couldn’t let him take another of Papa’s sons. I couldn’t let him hurt you.”
She was shivering now, even though she stood before a roaring fire.
“My father’s dead, Tina. It would not have mattered to him,” he said gently.
She closed her eyes and moisture began to seep from under her lashes. “But it would have mattered to me,” she whispered, agony in every word.
The pain in her voice revealed how much she was struggling. He was at sea. He wanted more than anything to help her, but he couldn’t see how to assuage the guilt she was obviously feeling. He, personally, wouldn’t have felt guilty at all if he’d been the one to shoot Milton. So, what was the point? “Why?”
She moved closer to him, seeking his warmth, and his arms automatically closed around her.
“Because I love you.” Her voice was clogged with tears. “I couldn’t let him hurt you. I couldn’t let him win.”
Jay barely heard the rest of her statement. She loved him! His heart swelled and his spirit took flight. Joy such as he had never experienced before flooded his whole being, opening up that small dark place inside him and filling it to overflowing. She loved him!
Her arms encircled his waist, her cheek pressed against his chest. “I know you don’t love me, but I…”
“How do you know that?” he asked hoarsely. “What makes you think I don’t love you?”
She looked up. The firelight on his face enhanced the sharpness of his features. “How could you?”
“How could I not?” he countered gently.
Her world tilted alarmingly. He couldn’t possibly love her. He didn’t even trust her. He didn’t want her hurt. He didn’t want her to suffer. But those were protective instincts. He was possessive, sometimes absurdly so. But that wasn’t love. How could he love her when he didn’t trust her?
She broke away from h
im again. “You don’t love me,” she whispered brokenly. “You only married me to get back Thane Park.”
There. It was out. Despite her earlier resolve not to accuse, it came out that way after all. Moving slowly around him, she dropped into one of the chairs.
Jay froze at the tortured words. Turning slowly, he watched her crumple into one of the wingback chairs positioned before the fireplace, averting her face to stare into the flames.
She knew. He didn’t know how she had found out. It was irrelevant now. What mattered was that he explain himself, something he rarely did. Since the day he left home at sixteen, he had been answerable to very few people. He had done as he pleased for the most part. Even in his shipping business, in his partnership with Brand, his was the final word, his decisions rarely questioned. But now, he owed her an explanation.
Dropping to his knees before her chair, he took her cold hands in his. “You’re right,” he told her and felt her stiffen. “I did marry you to reclaim what I felt was rightfully mine.” Rubbing her cold hands, he took a deep breath and exhaled softly. “When Strate initially apprized me of the contents of my father’s will, then the betrothal contract, I was furious. In his own way, my father had disowned me the only way he knew how. The only way I could regain what I considered to be my birthright was to marry someone I had never met and didn’t know. He was still trying to control me, regardless of what I wanted to do with my life.
“So I procrastinated. I spent three weeks in London, putting off my arrival at Thane Park until I couldn’t justify it any longer. I knew when I left London I probably had no choice.” He looked up into her eyes. “I still don’t know what I expected to find when I reached the Park, but I do know that you were not it.”
He dropped her hands and, turning, sat on the rug at her feet, his back against the chair, one long leg stretched out in front of him, the other bent, with an arm resting on his knee.
The Gypsy Legacy: Marquis Page 30
