The Shocking Secret of a Guest at the Wedding (Millworth Manor)

by Victoria Alexander

  She paused. “Well, I suppose that might have been a factor—”

  “And that you still harbored some affection for me.”

  “Don’t be absurd.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I certainly haven’t been pining away for you if that’s what you think.”

  “I don’t know what to think. This has all been something of a shock.”

  “For all of us,” Jack added.

  “It’s not been particularly easy for me either,” his mother said under her breath.

  “Good God, Elizabeth.” His father glared. “For all you knew, I could have remarried.”

  “Nonsense.” She sniffed. “You were not the marrying type.”

  “I married you, didn’t I?”

  “That scarcely counts.” She glared back at him. “Besides, you agreed that it was a mistake.”

  “Only because I couldn’t fight your parents who were determined that our marriage be annulled. And you were completely under their thumbs.”

  “I was not!” She hesitated. “Well, perhaps I was but I was a mere girl of eighteen and it did seem that we had been impulsive and—”

  “And as much as I hate to interrupt and suggest that the two of you work out your marital entanglements another time there are other issues to settle at the moment.” Jack turned his gaze to his mother. “While I can probably make allowances for your failure to tell him he had a son, I don’t understand why you never told me I had a father. A living father.”

  “I intended to. It just never seemed quite the right time, that’s all.” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter but the evasive look in her eyes and the set of her shoulders said more than words that she knew how very much it did. “First you were too young to understand. And even as you grew older it was difficult to find the right words. And then you were, well, an adult with your own life and it didn’t really seem to be of significance one way or the other. After a while, I suppose you could say that it simply slipped my mind.”

  “It slipped your mind?” Jack stared at her. “Didn’t I have a right to know?”

  “Didn’t I have a right to know?” his father added.

  “And what about me?” She fisted her hands on her hips. “I am your mother and your”—she closed her eyes as if praying for strength—“wife. Don’t I have any rights?”

  “Mother, don’t be absurd. You’re a woman.” The words were out of his mouth an instant before he realized what a mistake they were.

  His father choked.

  Mother’s glare shifted from one man to the other. “Well, you certainly are his son. I’m surprised I haven’t noticed it before. Now then, I am going to return to the dining room.” She directed an annoyed look at her husband. “Basil, do honor us with your presence for dinner.”

  His father’s eyes twinkled with triumph. “I would be delighted.”

  “On one condition,” she said firmly. “There is to be no mention, from either of you, that he is my husband.”

  “You think they won’t notice the similarities in name?” Jack said.

  “I could be the cousin of your late husband,” Father said in a helpful manner that should have earned him credit but elicited a scathing look from Mother nonetheless.

  “I am not trying to orchestrate a theatrical production.” She heaved a resigned sigh. “But yes, I think that might work, however—”

  A knock sounded at the door and it opened almost at once.

  “I do beg your pardon but is anything wrong?” Lucinda Merryweather stepped into the room and glanced around. “You’ve been gone so long we were wondering if there was a problem.” Lucy smiled her familiar, bright smile.

  Jack had known Lucy for all of her life. She was unfailingly cheerful, possessed a fine mind, and was really quite lovely with her fair hair and slightly turned-up nose. Marrying Lucy would not be a hardship. Their families had planned their marriage since the day she was born and they were well suited to one another. In very many ways she had long been his dearest friend. And he did love her of course. Who wouldn’t?

  They had never kept anything from each other and Jack saw no reason why he should start keeping anything from her now. Especially a matter of this magnitude. She was to be his wife one day after all.

  “Come in, Lucy, and please close the door behind you.” Jack cast an affectionate smile at the young woman he was almost, nearly, practically engaged to.

  “Do you think that’s wise?” Annoyance sounded in his mother’s voice.

  “Lucy and I have no secrets, Mother,” Jack said firmly. “She deserves to know what is going on.”

  “Secrets?” Lucy’s blue eyes widened with delight. “Oh, I simply adore a good secret.” She turned her attention to the colonel. “And I suspect that has to do with you, doesn’t it?”

  His father chuckled. “I’m afraid so.”

  Mother sighed and moved back toward the brandy decanter.

  Lucy stepped toward the older man and extended her hand. “We haven’t met but you are obviously related to Jackson.”

  Jack’s father took her hand, a pleased note in his voice. “Do you think so?”

  “Oh my, yes. The resemblance is unmistakable. You share the same coloring and in spite of the gray, it’s obvious your hair was once as dark as his. And the blue of your eyes is very nearly the exact same shade as his.” Lucy directed her words to Jack even as her gaze stayed on his father’s face. “Goodness, Jackson, do you realize this is exactly how you will look in twenty or thirty years?” A flirtatious twinkle shone in Lucy’s eye. “I must say, I am going to like it.”

  “Lucy.” Jack drew a deep breath. “This is my—”

  “Oh, I know who he is,” she said, studying his father curiously. “This is Colonel Basil Channing. I read an article about him.” She glanced at Jack. “The similarity in name, you know, caught my eye although I must say his photographs don’t do him justice. I didn’t notice any sort of resemblance at all until now.” She nodded. “He’s quite famous.”

  “I wouldn’t say famous,” his father said in a modest manner. “Well known perhaps, in certain circles.”

  “He’s an, oh, what’s the word? Adventurer I suppose.” She shivered with delight. “How very exciting.”

  “What on earth have you been reading?” Mother said under her breath and poured a new glass of brandy.

  “And better yet, you’re part of the family.” Lucy beamed. “Just how are the two of you related?”

  “He’s Jackson’s father’s brother,” Mother said quickly. “Or his cousin, something like that. Now, we should return to the others.”

  “No, he’s not.” Jack braced himself. “He’s my father.”

  “Really?” Lucy’s eyes widened. “How delightful. And that does explain the resemblance.” She leaned toward the colonel in a confidential manner. “But aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

  “Rumor.” His father shrugged. “Nothing more than that.”

  Lucy nodded solemnly. “Rumors can be dreadfully hard to stop once they take hold. And in your case, one might say they were positively . . .” Her eyes twinkled with laughter. “Fatal?”

  The colonel chuckled. “One could say that.” His father glanced at Jack. “I like her.”

  “Everyone likes Lucinda, Basil.” Mother took a fast swig of her drink.

  “Of course they do,” Lucy said. “I am unfailingly pleasant, cordial to a fault, and I am rather more intelligent than is seemly in a woman but I am clever enough to keep that to myself.” She smiled in an overly sweet manner. “For example, right this very moment, I am well aware that there is more to this meeting than any of you have revealed thus far. Admittedly, it doesn’t take a great deal of intelligence to ascertain that. After all, it isn’t every day that a man’s dead father and a woman’s late husband appears just in time for dinner. Add to that the fact that Mrs. Channing is drinking brandy before dinner, which I have never seen her do before, and Jackson has the oddest sort of stunned look in his eyes, well, as I said there
is more to this story.” She settled on the sofa and looked at the gathering expectedly. “A story I would very much like to hear.”

  “Yes, well, it’s not a story I wish to tell at the moment.” Mother inched toward the door. “And there is dinner—”

  “Dinner can wait, as I would like to hear this story as well.” Jack glanced at Lucy. “She’s been remarkably reticent to reveal anything at all thus far.”

  “Imagine my surprise,” Lucy murmured.

  “Go on, Mother,” Jack said in his best banking and trust vice-presidential voice. “Tell us your story.”

  “I really don’t think now . . .” Mother glanced around the room then sighed. “Oh, very well.” She downed the rest of her brandy and drew a deep breath. “Thirty years ago, my father served as a financial advisor to an American company that had interests in India. The position required him to travel to that part of the world. Mother and I accompanied him as neither of us had traveled extensively. It was quite exciting as I recall.” She glanced at her son. “Travel is extremely broadening, you know.”

  “I am well aware of that, Mother.” Jack had always thought he would have a grand tour when he finished his studies. But he had started at the bank and one thing had led to another and he had never quite had the time a grand tour would require. He had responsibilities after all.

  “I have always wanted to travel,” Lucy said under her breath.

  “Continue, Mother.”

  “While in India, I met a young, dashing, handsome British officer. He was quite, well, irresistible.”

  Father tried and failed to hide a satisfied grin.

  “We knew each other for only a few weeks but I fancied myself madly in love, the way only someone young and inexperienced can be. It was all terribly romantic.” She shrugged. “In a moment of mad, starry-eyed impulse we eloped.”

  “Scarcely a moment,” his father said. “As I recall it took quite a bit of secrecy and several days of machinations to arrange. It was not at all easy.” He smiled at his wife. “But well worth it.”

  “Don’t try to be flirtatious with me, Basil.” Mother huffed. “I am long past the time when that sort of thing will work on me. Especially coming from you.”

  “My apologies, Elizabeth.” His father struggled to keep a smile off his face. “You can’t blame me for trying.”

  “I most certainly can.” Mother paused. “Now where was I? Oh yes, we were married. My parents were not at all pleased. In fact, Father was livid. He thought I had surely lost my mind. I had never been an impulsive sort. They pointed out Basil and I had nothing in common. He was English after all and I was American.”

  “That doesn’t seem like a great deal to overcome,” Jack said.

  “That wasn’t all. They said we were being reckless and irresponsible. That marriage was forever and we hadn’t given it due consideration. They said our marrying was nothing more than the foolish actions of youth. There was more, of course, but I don’t remember all of it now. Suffice it to say, they convinced me”—she looked at her husband—“or rather they convinced us we had made a dreadful mistake.” She shook her head. “You must understand I did not have nearly the strength of character than that I do now.”

  “The biggest mistake I made was allowing them to convince me,” his father said.

  “Stop it, Basil.” Mother glared at him and continued. “My parents said the best way to resolve the situation was to return to America and have the marriage annulled. And so your father and I parted. By the time I returned home I realized I was, well, you were going to arrive, which made an annulment impossible.” She raised a shoulder in a casual shrug. “And that’s all there is to it really.”

  Jack stared at his mother. “Although I believe you have left out the part where you never mentioned to my father that he had a son. Or the part where you failed to tell me I had a father who was very much alive.”

  She waved off Jack’s comments. “You already know that part. I didn’t think it necessary to repeat it. So.” She cast them her brightest smile. “Shall we go in to dinner?”

  “No.” Jack shook his head. “You really have given no good reason as to why you didn’t tell me about my father. What you’ve said thus far is not a satisfactory explanation. I think I—I think we—deserve better.”

  “Nonetheless that’s all I have.” Mother’s jaw tightened. “Would you prefer that I say I was afraid? Afraid that your father would snatch you away from me? Afraid that you would hate me if you learned what I’d kept from you? Is that what you want to hear?”

  “Only if it’s the truth,” Jack said slowly.

  “Very well, then I suppose that was part of it.” She shook her head. “I had no desire to lose my only child.”

  “Did you really think I would do that?” his father said quietly.

  “How did I know what you would do? I barely knew you after all.” She paused and her voice softened. “I truly did try to write to you, Basil, but I couldn’t find the words. And the longer I put it off, the harder it was. Surely you understand?”

  Lucy nodded. “It’s like running into someone you’ve met over and over again, but you can’t remember their name. And the longer that you go on without asking what their name is the harder it is to ask.” She shook her head. “That can be most embarrassing.”

  “Exactly.” Mother thought for a moment. “Well not exactly but you do understand my dilemma.” Her gaze shifted from Lucy to Jack to her husband. “Do you? Understand, that is?”

  “Not really,” Jack muttered. “Especially since this is far more important than not being able to remember someone’s name.”

  “But surely you can forgive me?” A hopeful note sounded in Mother’s voice. “It is all water under the bridge now, isn’t it?”

  “There’s really no need to hold a grudge.” His father studied his mother carefully. “It’s not as if we can go back thirty years and undo what was done.”

  Mother stared at him. “You’re much more forgiving than I expected.”

  “And probably more than you deserve,” Lucy said helpfully.

  “I for one am not sure I’m ready to forgive you.” Jack blew a long breath. “However, my . . . father is right. What’s done is done. It can’t be changed. No sense in looking backward.”

  “Good.” Mother breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s that then. Perhaps now we can go to dinner.”

  “I don’t think we’re quite done yet, Elizabeth.” His father chose his words with care. “There’s a great deal yet to discuss and a great many more questions that still remain.”

  “I really can’t imagine what those might be.” Mother set her glass on the desk and moved toward the door. “And we do have guests waiting. So perhaps—”

  “Perhaps we need to discuss the future and what happens now.” His father absently tapped his finger against his glass and studied her for a moment. “You were right about one thing though.”

  Mother’s brow arched upward. “Oh?”

  He smiled slowly. “I do intend to take your son.”

  Chapter Two

  Mother sucked in a sharp breath and her eyes narrowed. “Over my dead body!”

  “That seems appropriate,” the colonel said in a hard tone. “As you’ve essentially had him all these years over my dead body.”

  “One wonders how they managed to stay married for a full week,” Lucy said under her breath to Jack.

  “Might I point out to both of you, I am not a child to be squabbled over.” Jack glared at his parents. “Nor am I a possession to be divided between the two of you.”

  “Of course not, dear.” A conciliatory note sounded in his mother’s voice. “You’re an intelligent adult with a position of responsibility and authority. You make important decisions every day and you are more than capable of making decisions about your own life. For your father to make such a threat in the first place is utterly absurd.”

  “It’s not a threat,” his father said coolly. “Although perhaps I misstated my inte
ntion.”

  Mother huffed. “I should think so.”

  “My apologies, Elizabeth.”

  Mother snorted in disdain.

  “As I said, it was not a threat. It was simply a statement of fact.” He turned to Jack. “Forgive me if I am not saying this as well as I might but you must understand, until last week, I had no idea of your existence. Most men have months to come to terms with the possibility of having a son. I’ve had only a week and most of that was spent onboard a ship although admittedly it did give me plenty of time to consider the ramifications of your existence. Not that I’m not pleased,” he added quickly. “I had quite frankly resigned myself years ago to the idea that I would never have children of my own.”

  Jack smiled. “Well, I never expected to have a father either.”

  “How lovely,” Lucy said. “You have something else in common.”

  “Delightful,” Mother said through clenched teeth.

  “There is however more at stake here, Jackson.” He considered his offspring for a moment. “Did your mother tell you anything about me? Anything at all?”

  “No.” Jack shot an annoyed look at his mother. “From as far back as I can remember, the very mention of your name upset her. I learned as a young boy that you were a part of her life she did not want to be reminded of. I always thought it was lingering grief.”

  “A love so tragic she could not bear to have it brought to mind. The kind you read about in novels.” Lucy sighed. “So very romantic.”

  Mother stared at her. “We must look at your reading material, dear.”

  “I grew up believing my father had died fighting Indians in a Western territory, Nebraska or somewhere.”

  “I never told you that,” his mother said quickly.

  “No, that was Grandfather’s doing.” Jack thought for a moment. “Although you never saw fit to correct the impression he gave me either. Admittedly, it was all rather vague. More implication than anything else. Grandfather never wanted to speak of my father either.”