“What on earth—”
“A real plan, something more substantial than your last plan. Nothing.” She huffed. “What kind of plan is nothing?” Dee paced the floor. “Mother will be the problem or one of them. Father won’t be difficult to manage once Uncle Basil talks to him.” She paused. “Does he know?”
“Does he know what?”
“Does Uncle Basil know that your engagement isn’t legitimate?”
Teddy nodded. “Jack told him when it became public.”
“That’s something anyway. It will certainly help.”
“Help what?”
Dee stared at her for a moment, then drew a deep breath. “We have visitors or at least we will. They’re spending a few days in London before they come here. A surprise visit, Camille said. She told me all this. They met them onboard their ship.”
“What are you talking about? Who met whom?”
“Camille, Grayson, and Sam of course.”
“And?”
“And . . .” Dee paused, obviously reluctant to continue. “And they met Uncle Basil’s wife. Jack’s mother. Mrs. Channing.”
“Good Lord.” Teddy gasped.
“She’s apparently come for Christmas. Or to reclaim her son. Camille didn’t wish to speculate on that possibility although given some time, I’m certain she will.”
“That will certainly complicate matters. Does Jack know?”
Dee shook her head. “He and Uncle Basil are off riding. They weren’t here when Camille and the others arrived.”
“I should probably find him. He should be warned.” Teddy pushed back from the desk and stood. “I would hate for him to be taken unawares. I can’t imagine . . .” She narrowed her eyes and stared at her friend. “But you said them.”
“Yes, well, Mrs. Channing is not alone.”
“Did his grandfather come as well?”
“I don’t think so.” Dee shook her head. “It’s possible I suppose but Camille didn’t mention a grandfather. I daresay she wouldn’t overlook a grandfather.”
“Then who?”
“Mrs. Channing was accompanied by a young woman, a Miss Merryweather. She was introduced as . . .” Dee winced. “Jack’s fiancée.”
“His what?” Shock coursed through Teddy and her stomach twisted. “His fiancée?”
“Apparently,” Dee said weakly.
“His fiancée,” Teddy repeated. Surely not. “Perhaps Camille misunderstood?”
“I don’t think Camille would misunderstand something like that.”
“His fiancée,” Teddy said again. Try as she might she couldn’t quite grasp the concept of it. Jack had a fiancée? “How could he?”
“How could he have a fiancée?” Caution sounded in Dee’s voice. “Or how could he not tell you?”
“Both,” Teddy snapped. Anger swept through her along with a stunning sense of sheer betrayal. She turned and paced, fury fueling her steps. “How could he?”
“You said that.”
“It bears repeating!”
“I know this complicates the fake engagement between the two of you. And I can certainly understand why you might be annoyed.” Dee studied her closely. “But you are far angrier than I expected.”
“Of course I’m angry. I’m furious.” A voice of reason somewhere in a part of her mind not simmering with rage whispered that Dee was right. Teddy shouldn’t be nearly as angry as she was. She ignored it. “I can’t remember ever being this angry with a man before in my life.”
“Yes, I can see that,” Dee murmured.
“Even when I discovered the truth about Cyril, I wasn’t this angry.” But then hadn’t she always suspected that Cyril Goddard was not quite as he appeared? But Jack, Jack was a good man. The kind of man a woman could trust. With her secrets. Or her heart. Or so he had seemed. “The man has two fiancées, Dee. Two!”
“One of them is not exactly—”
“I thought Jack was one of the most responsible men I’d ever met. And trustworthy as well, the cad!” Her jaw clenched. “Obviously I was wrong!”
“I’m not sure that—”
“Bloody hell, Dee. The man’s a banker! Shouldn’t a banker be a bit too stuffy to have two fiancées?”
Dee stared. “You do realize you’re actually not—”
“And an honorable banker at that. Why, he should be entirely too straitlaced and stodgy for this sort of thing.”
“He doesn’t really have—”
“Two fiancées! Two! What was he going to do? Marry us both?”
“I didn’t think marriage—”
“One in America. One in England.” She narrowed her gaze. “What if he has one in every country? Who knows how many fiancées he has!”
“Don’t you think you’re being a bit irrational?”
“You’re right.” She waved off the question. “He’s not well traveled, he’s admitted as much. Not that what he says can be taken as the truth.”
“Teddy, I—”
“I wonder if he rescued her as well. He does that, you know,” she said darkly. “He rescues women who have no need or desire to be rescued. No need or desire for a . . . a hero!”
“I—”
“But then we all need a hero, don’t we? Or at least we all want one. Deep down inside where we are weak and vulnerable.” She moved to the wardrobe and flung open the door. “Are there still swords hanging over the fireplace in the billiards room?”
“As far as I know.”
“Good!”
“Why?”
“Just a thought, nothing important.” She grabbed her cloak and slammed the door shut.
“Teddy, this might not be the best time—”
Teddy pulled on the cloak, then realized where she’d heard that name before. “Did you say Merryweather?”
Dee nodded.
“Isn’t the name of Jack’s bank, Graham, Merryweather and something?”
“I don’t remember.” Dee stared. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so—”
“I daresay it’s not a marriage as much as it is a business arrangement.” She buttoned her cloak and started for the door. “Which he thinks is perfectly all right. Marriage, he said, has always been a business proposition.”
“Does that make it better or worse?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” Teddy stalked into the hall, Dee right behind her.
“Where are you going?”
“I am going to find Jack.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I haven’t decided that yet either.”
“You’re not going to hurt him, are you?”
“Probably not.” Teddy reached the top of the stairs and drew a calming breath. “Your family would never forgive me if I did away with the newfound heir to Millworth Manor. And I am fond of your family.”
“Do keep in mind that we like him,” Dee said. “It would really be such a shame—”
“He’ll be fine.” Teddy started down the stairs. “I promise not to hurt him. Much,” she added under her breath.
“Are you sure this is the right time—”
“I told you, Jack should be warned that his mother and his . . .” She could barely choke out the word. “Fiancée are on their way here.”
“Yes, of course,” Dee called after her. “But who is going to warn him about you?”
“He doesn’t need warning about me.” She grit her teeth. “He’s my bloody hero!”
Jack had known any number of crafty men before but he could now put Colonel Basil Channing at the top of the list. Rather than point out the benefits of being the Earl of Briston as the men rode around the estate, the older man chose instead to concentrate his comments on life at Millworth, on the importance of heritage and family, and how one generation passes on responsibilities to the next. Jack realized his father consistently, but oh so subtly, brought up these particular themes whenever he and his son wandered the estate. Oh, he was indeed a crafty devil.
It was just cold enough today
to be invigorating without being frigid but by the time father and son had turned over their horses to the stable hands, both men agreed it was time to share a steaming cup of tea or coffee by a warm fire.
“Isn’t that Theodosia?” his father said when they left the stable and started toward the manor.
A female figure strode toward them in a determined manner. Even from a distance, the set of her shoulders and the length of her stride said she obviously had something on her mind.
His father leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I don’t want to borrow trouble but . . .”
“I suspect you won’t need to borrow it,” Jack said under his breath although he had no idea what it might be. He thought all was going quite well between them.
In spite of the fact that there had been no official announcement, their engagement did seem to be universally accepted as fact. Everywhere they went, someone remarked upon what an excellent match they were. He couldn’t have planned a better way to be more quickly accepted into English society although he was decidedly uncomfortable with the deceit. Still, as it meant spending more time with Theodosia, it was well worth what was really little more than a white lie.
He was fairly certain his feelings toward her went far beyond friendship even if hers did not. At least not yet. But the more time they spent together, the greater the chance that he could indeed win her heart.
Not now, of course. The closer she came, the more apparent it was that she was not happy about something.
“Did you know there is a distinct flash of copper in your eyes when you’re angry?” Jack said with a grin. “It’s very becoming.” And frightening.
“Excellent,” his father said under his breath. “Disarm her before she has a chance to attack.”
“I’m not angry,” she said sharply, then paused. “Although, I will say, a few minutes ago, I was completely irrational. I have now thankfully come to my senses, perhaps because it’s so bloody cold out here.”
Jack and his father exchanged glances.
“That’s good to know,” the colonel said cautiously.
“It’s always good when you come to your senses,” Jack added.
“I think so.” She nodded. “Admittedly I was a bit taken aback when I first heard.”
“Were you?” Jack had no idea what she was talking about but he had learned with Theodosia it was wiser to let her say whatever it was she had to say rather than plunging ahead and making a mess of it. Inevitably, he would be wrong.
“Well, furious, really.” She drew a deep breath. “But then I realized I have no real claim on you.”
He studied her closely. “Perhaps this would be the right time to tell me exactly what you’re talking about.”
“I’ll leave you to it then,” Father said. “It’s too blasted cold to stand around chatting.” He started toward the house.
“I’m afraid this involves you, too,” Theodosia said.
His father stopped, a wary look on his face. “Oh?”
She nodded. “It appears we are about to receive some unexpected guests.”
“Unexpected guests?” The colonel’s eyes narrowed. “Out with it, Theodosia. Who are these unexpected guests?”
She hesitated, then met his father’s gaze. “Your wife for one.”
Jack stared. “My mother is here?”
“Elizabeth?” His father shook his head as if to clear it. “Are you sure?”
“Unless you have another unknown wife, I would say yes, Elizabeth, Mrs. Channing.” Theodosia huffed. “And no she’s not here yet. She’s in London but is expected to arrive here in a few days. It’s a surprise.”
“She’s never been to Millworth,” Father murmured.
Theodosia’s expression softened. “Then Christmas is an excellent time for a visit. There are few places lovelier at Christmas than Millworth.”
“I should . . .” Father started toward the manor, then paused. “Thank you for warning me. I would hate to be caught unawares.”
She cast him a weak smile. “I thought you should know.”
He nodded and again started off.
“She’s not here yet, you know,” Jack called after him. “Where are you going?”
“To prepare,” he said over his shoulder. “Spruce up the place, select the right room, talk to the cook, that sort of thing, whatever is necessary, you know . . .”
“Well, isn’t that interesting.” Jack chuckled. “My father wants to impress my mother.”
Theodosia watched the older man’s brisk walk back. “Do you think he still cares for her?”
“Stranger things have happened, I suppose. Although she’s certainly not done anything to endear herself to him. She could be coming to apologize, or make amends, but I wouldn’t bet on it. My mother rarely acknowledges when she is wrong.”
“Perhaps she’s coming to drag you back to America.”
“I’m not a child, Theodosia.” He drew his brows together. “She cannot drag me anywhere.”
“Perhaps she can’t.” A deceptively casual note sounded in Theodosia’s voice and Jack braced himself. “But perhaps Miss Merryweather can.”
Jack’s breath caught. “Miss Merryweather?”
“Your fiancée?”
“Lucy is with my mother?”
Theodosia folded her arms over her chest. “Awkward, isn’t it?”
He studied her for a long moment. A dozen thoughts ran through his head. This was obviously what Theodosia was so upset about. She had no need to be. Even if he and Lucy had once planned to marry, her parting words made it very clear she considered him under no obligation to her. Of course, he’d had no response yet from the letter he’d written to her but unless he was terribly mistaken he was free to do as he wished.
“Well?”
“Well . . .” No, Theodosia had absolutely no need to be angry and yet it was obvious from the look in her eye and the set of her chin that she was. For a fake fiancée to be so angry at the sudden appearance of a heretofore unknown almost fiancée struck him as, well, delightful. No one was that furious unless she cared more than she wanted to admit. He resisted the urge to grin. Theodosia would not take that well at all.
“Aren’t you going to say something?”
“There’s really nothing to say.” He took her arm and started toward the manor. “You’ll like Lucy. She’s very intelligent and—”
“And.” Theodosia jerked out of his grasp and glared. “She’s your fiancée.”
“No, she’s not.” He took her arm and again started off.
Again she pulled free. “Your mother seems to think she is.”
“My mother is confused about a great many things. I would certainly not take her word on a matter of even minute importance.” He met her gaze firmly. “Now, are we going to go back to the house and discuss this in a sane, rational, warm manner or are we going to stay out here and freeze?”
“I’m not cold,” she said in a lofty manner.
“Well then. Good day, Lady Theodosia.” He tipped his hat, turned, and strode toward the manor.
An indignant gasp trailed after him. “Are you going to leave me here?”
“I’m not leaving you,” he called back to her. “You’re choosing to stay.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake.”
He tried not to grin but it wasn’t easy. A moment later she was by his side.
“Then you’re not engaged?”
He shook his head. “Not to my knowledge.”
“But your mother thinks you are?”
“Probably.” He stopped and turned toward her. “It was assumed that Lucy and I would marry eventually. We assumed it ourselves. But we never managed to make it official. I never proposed, she never accepted. There was no ring, no announcement. In that respect you and I are more engaged than Lucy and I ever were.”
“Go on.”
“That we kept putting it off never seemed to bother either of us. Which now, in hindsight, does seem to indicate that we both knew it wasn’t right fo
r either of us. When I left with my father she released me from any obligation, real or assumed.”
“I see,” she said thoughtfully.
He glanced at her. “Feeling foolish, are we?”
She ignored him. “If you’re not engaged why would your mother bring her here?”
“The actions of my mother become more incomprehensible with every passing day. As I suspect do the actions of yours.”
“We’re not talking about my mother.” She paused. “And really, my mother’s actions make a fair amount of sense if you understand how uncertain her life has become. You made me see that.”
“I am wise beyond my years.” He gestured toward the manor. “Shall we?”
She nodded and this time took his arm. They walked on in silence for no more than a few seconds.
“Do you love her?” Theodosia said abruptly.
He slanted a glance at her. “Why do you want to know?”
“It just seems to me that is the kind of thing a fraudulent fiancée should know.” She paused. “It’s simple curiosity, I suppose.”
“I have always loved Lucy and I always will.”
“Oh.” A vague but definite note of disappointment sounded in her voice.
“She has always been my closest friend.”
“Oh.” Her tone lightened. “Still, you should have told me about her.”
“Why?” He glanced at her. “You haven’t told me about your fiancé.”
“That’s different.” She shrugged. “He isn’t going to show up when you least expect him. He is dead after all.”
“Did you love him?”
“Why are you asking?”
“I could say curiosity, just as you did.”
She shrugged. “Admittedly, it was not a good answer.”
“No, it wasn’t.” He forced a casual note to his voice but held his breath. “You asked about Lucy, it seems only fair that I ask about your fiancé, that’s all.”
“I thought I loved him at the time.” She sighed. “Then, shortly before he died, I realized I was wrong. He had, well, deceived me. What we had, or what I thought we had, was built on lies.”
“I have never lied to you.”
“Probably but—”
“No probably about it. Did you ever ask if I was engaged? If I’d ever been engaged?”
“Perhaps not but—”
The Shocking Secret of a Guest at the Wedding (Millworth Manor) Page 24
