Jilted By A Cad (Jilted Brides Trilogy Book 1)

by Cheryl Holt

  “We haven’t been friends all that long, but I’d like to suppose you know me better than that. I would never be that cruel.”

  “I received a letter from you.”

  “What did it say?”

  “I had to fetch her from Benton by the fifteenth. If I didn’t, you’d directed Mr. Slater to send her to an orphanage.”

  Lord Benton froze, seeming chilled by the news, and he shook his head with disgust. “I didn’t write you a letter, Jo. I specifically ordered Richard to give you as much time as you required. It was my last command to him as I walked out the door to leave for London.”

  “Well, then, either he feels no need to obey you or he is deaf.”

  “Where is Daisy? Is she still at Benton?”

  “No, Lord Benton! Pay attention. I had to fetch her away from there. Bobby and Jane had to go too. Their governess, Miss Watson, traveled with them to Cornwall.”

  “Why?”

  “She hopes to meet with Jane’s uncle and beg him to have mercy on them.”

  He appeared stunned. “Richard evicted them?”

  “Yes.”

  “And where is Daisy?”

  “She’s waiting for me at our boarding house. I’ve rented a room there.”

  “A boarding house! You have to be joking.”

  “When I left Benton with her, I took her to the home I used to share with my sister.”

  “The one you used to share?”

  “My sister was extremely irate, and she kicked us out on the road.”

  His shoulders drooped, his dismay obvious. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear it.”

  “So we came to London, and I’ve been trying to find a job.”

  “A job!” he huffed as if it had never occurred to him that a woman might have to work.

  “Mr. Slater provided some money to tide us over, so for now, our situation isn’t dire. But if I don’t land a position soon, I can’t predict what will happen.” Her tears had become a veritable flood. She couldn’t hold them in. She’d been so frightened, and she was terrified about the future. “I desperately need some help, Lord Benton, and I have nowhere to turn.”

  “Yes, you do. I will help you, Jo.”

  He dragged her off her chair and nestled her on his lap, and she rested against his chest and had a cathartic cry. It was wonderful to be able to lean on him, to let him carry her burdens just for a bit.

  He’d insisted he wasn’t responsible for Mr. Slater evicting Daisy, Bobby, and Jane, but Jo was too weary to figure out if she believed him. For the moment, she would accept his statements as true, but later, when she was stronger, she would assess his veracity more carefully. Ultimately, she might decide he was lying, but she wouldn’t part from him again without garnering some serious promises of support.

  Daisy was his niece. Daisy was his deceased brother’s daughter, and Jo expected him to behave appropriately toward her.

  She had no idea how long she wept, but she continued until there were no tears remaining, and she felt hollowed out.

  “We’ll retrieve Daisy from the boarding house,” he said. “Immediately.”

  “I’ve been gone for hours. She’s probably worried sick.”

  “The two of you will stay here with me while we devise a plan to keep you safe. I’ll ensure that Richard never interferes.”

  Jo wanted to decline his offer, wanted to say absolutely not, that she didn’t trust him, but she had to think of Daisy, so she couldn’t be proud or vain. “I guess we can stay with you, but you have to swear you’ll always be honest with me.”

  “I shouldn’t have to swear, Jo. You should know I will always be honest.”

  “The past few weeks haven’t won you any gold medals.”

  “My first act, after I get you and Daisy settled, will be to ride to the country and have a talk with Richard.”

  “Good. I hope you’ll be very vicious with him, for he has certainly been vicious to me and mine.”

  Their banter dwindled, and she drew away and straightened herself. They were very close, so close, and he dipped in and kissed her, just a quick brush of his mouth to her own. She should have deflected it, but her spirits were at their lowest ebb, and it was precisely the balm she needed.

  “Let’s locate the housekeeper,” he said, “and I’ll have her prepare a bedchamber for you. Then we’ll have Newman order my carriage.”

  “What about your party?”

  “Don’t concern yourself over it. Your dilemma is more important.”

  Before they could stand to depart, the door opened, and a very pretty young lady peeked inside.

  “There you are, you sly devil!” she said.

  She started to laugh, but swiftly swallowed it down as she noted the intimate way Jo and Lord Benton were snuggled together on the chair.

  “Oh, hello, Amelia.” His cheeks flushed with chagrin, and he gestured to Jo. “This is…ah…my friend, Josephine Bates.”

  The woman’s cheeks flushed too. “Supper is ready, and…well…Newman is in a dither. We can’t go in without you.”

  “I’ve had an issue arise,” he said. “I won’t be joining you for supper.”

  The woman, Amelia, looked stricken, and Jo hastily stated, “Lord Benton, you don’t have to fuss with me. You should entertain your guests.”

  “My guests are all adults. They can eat without me.”

  “No, no, I insist,” she hurriedly told him. “I can find Mr. Newman, and I’ll fetch Daisy on my own. It’s your birthday. You should enjoy yourself.”

  She slid off his lap, but he was holding her hand. Amelia saw that he was, and Jo was incredibly embarrassed.

  Who was Amelia? Was she a sweetheart? Gad, might she be his betrothed? She was definitely scowling as if he belonged to her, as if she’d like to scratch Jo’s eyes out.

  Jo yanked away and rushed out without further comment. If he was about to explain himself to Amelia or if the pair of them was about to quarrel, Jo refused to listen.

  She marched down the hall, stopping a footman to ask after Mr. Newman so she could have a carriage arranged. She’d pick up Daisy, then come right back. It appeared Miss Amelia might have a huge problem with that situation, but Jo couldn’t worry about it.

  For once, she could only worry about herself.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “I think you should join me.”

  “I wouldn’t lower myself.”

  Amelia frowned at Evan, wishing she could encourage him with a smile. They were in their carriage outside Benton House. It was early afternoon, and she had charged him with one of the more difficult tasks he’d ever assume.

  He had to talk to Peyton for her.

  The prior evening, when she’d hosted his birthday party, was to have been the perfect event. It should have settled their nagging question with regard to Peyton: Would he propose or not?

  But the entire occasion had collapsed into a debacle.

  Evan had been Peyton’s best friend since they were eight, and they were closer than brothers. They’d learned to sail together, had enlisted in the navy together, had served together ever since. Evan was his First Officer and had stood by him through thick and thin.

  Peyton had been like an abandoned orphan, so the Boyles had furnished the family his own family had refused to supply. He’d been welcomed by them for holidays, school breaks, and navy furloughs. They resided in London with their widowed mother, Lydia. She had felt sorry for Peyton, and she’d doted on him. He’d become a regular fixture in their lives.

  Amelia was eight years younger than he and Evan were, and she’d played the part of little sister to Peyton. That is until he’d come home when she was eighteen, and she’d been all grown up.

  From that moment on, there had been a special chemistry between them, and the Boyles had believed it would blossom into love and marriage. Peyton had never given them a reason to suppose he wouldn’t wed her, so Amelia had never bothered with courting anyone el
se.

  There had been no need. She figured she’d found her husband.

  Yet when Neville had died and Peyton had inherited the title, it had caused frantic discussions around the Boyle dining room table. Was he too grand now to have Amelia as his bride? Would he pick a girl who had a loftier status?

  Even then, even recognizing how his path had veered off from theirs, they hadn’t wavered in their conviction that he’d proceed. They’d been so certain of him. He might be an earl, but it wouldn’t alter who he was deep down.

  The previous night, he’d elevated her expectations to the very highest level. He’d agreed to escort her to the theater, and he’d asked if he could stop by early to raise an important topic. No woman in the kingdom could fail to grasp the implication of a request like that.

  He’d been planning to propose. Why wouldn’t she have thought so?

  At least it had seemed to be his intent—until it had been time to lead his guests into supper. He’d vanished, and Amelia had gone in search of him. A footman had directed her to the butler’s office behind the kitchen, and she’d walked in on Peyton who—if he was about to betroth himself—had clearly been misbehaving.

  Nothing had been the same since.

  “Who was she again?” Evan inquired.

  “Josephine Bates.”

  “I’ve never heard of her.”

  “Are you sure, Evan? He never mentioned her? Tell me the truth. I realize you have a relationship with him that doesn’t include me. Has there been a secret you couldn’t share?”

  “No! I’m as stunned by this as you are.”

  “I’m not mistaken about what I witnessed. She was sitting on his lap, and it appeared as if they’d been kissing.”

  “If he was sweet on someone besides you, he would have told me.”

  “Are you positive? Any admission of that sort would indicate he’d changed his mind about me.”

  “Can I pose a scenario that might hurt your feelings?”

  “Do you mean hurt them more than they already have been?” She chuckled miserably. “Go on. What is it?”

  “She might be a…ah…doxy, a passing fancy. Men have dalliances, Amelia.”

  “I’m aware of that fact.”

  “Peyton is no different or nobler than the next fellow. He might simply be enjoying a fling before he’s engaged. If that’s his scheme, his association with her has naught to do with you.”

  She scoffed. “Naught to do with me!”

  “He wouldn’t have confided it to me either. Not with the two of you being…well…so fondly attached.”

  “You should have seen how he was looking at her. She wasn’t a dalliance, Evan, and she wasn’t a doxy. She was beautiful and elegant and quite fascinating. He was absolutely captivated.”

  “Are you imagining she’s an aristocrat’s daughter? Is that it? Are you afraid he’s chosen a more appropriate candidate?”

  “It will kill me if he has.”

  “If he’s about to spurn you, why would he ask to stop by this evening?”

  “Maybe I misconstrued about a proposal, and instead, he would deliver the news that it was over for us.”

  “And then what? After he broke your heart, you’d trot off to the theater together?”

  “I can’t predict what might have happened, Evan. All I can state with any certainty is that he was sequestered in an isolated room with a female on his lap, and it wasn’t me.”

  She moaned with dismay and rested her head on the side of the carriage, her eyes closed, her frustration acute. She hated to place Evan in the middle of such a quagmire. Any discord that arose would end up severing his bond with Peyton.

  He and Amelia had a very small family. It was basically him, their mother, and her. They had a few scattered cousins and that was it. Their father had been in the navy too, and he’d perished at sea when Evan and Amelia were young. The tragedy had created a tight link between them, and he was extremely devoted to her and their mother.

  He felt very protective of them, and it was a burden he’d assumed as a boy when they’d received the dreadful report about their father. The naval officer who’d conveyed the grim tidings had quietly murmured to Evan, You’re the man of the family now.

  Those words had become the bedrock of how he carried on. His world revolved around her and their mother and how he could keep them safe and happy.

  He was the most loyal person on Earth while Peyton wasn’t loyal at all. They’d remained friends because Evan worked at it and deemed it important. If the situation had been left up to Peyton, their connection would have swiftly dwindled.

  His father’s cruel treatment had hardened him, but Evan had managed to chip away at his shell. He understood what Peyton was like. If Peyton crushed Amelia’s expectations, how would they continue on in a cordial way? It didn’t seem possible.

  “I refuse to believe there’s mischief occurring,” he said.

  “You’re so naively faithful, Evan. You always have been. It’s what I cherish most about you.”

  “I won’t listen to more of your suspicions. I’ll talk to him as if nothing is wrong.”

  “You’re very brave.”

  “Or very foolish.” He snorted with disgust, then he urged, “Come in with me.”

  “Don’t be daft. What if Josephine Bates is there? What if he admits he isn’t visiting me tonight? You know what it would signify. Are you prepared for it? For I am definitely not prepared.”

  “There has to be an explanation. I’ll pester him until I learn what it is.”

  “Good luck.”

  He reached over and squeezed her hand, and she smiled wanly.

  “Will you wait for me?” he asked.

  “Are you joking? I wouldn’t want him to glance out as I’m loitering in his driveway like a lovesick girl.”

  “But you are a lovesick girl.”

  “I won’t have him pitying me, and if he’s tossing me over, after all these years of my being so accommodating, I’d like to be apprised right away so I can move on.”

  “Honestly, it sounds as if you’ve already given up on him, but you shouldn’t surrender so easily. Don’t you think he’s worth fighting for? Don’t you think you are worth having? Shouldn’t we remind him that you are?”

  She sighed with resignation.

  She was much smarter than her brother. She had a woman’s pragmatism, and she saw matters as they truly were rather than how she wished they would be.

  After she’d stumbled on Peyton with Josephine Bates, she’d dragged him back to the supper, but every minute of the meal and the socializing afterward had been incredibly awkward.

  He’d kept sneaking off to have severe conversations with Mr. Newman. He’d ignored his guests, had declined to dance or play cards. Eventually, he’d disappeared for over an hour with no clarification as to why. Amelia had been so embarrassed that they’d called for their carriage and departed.

  Had he ever returned to the party? If so, had he noticed her absence? She was terrified he might not have.

  “Go inside, dear brother,” she said. “Speak to your friend. Find out what’s happening with him.”

  “He might not tell me.”

  “You’ll pry it out of him. I have no doubt, and maybe you’ll cross paths with the enchanting Josephine Bates too. We’ll chat again after you have.”

  “Are you heading home?”

  “Yes. I’ll be there in a bit. Please don’t delay. I’m starting to recognize that I’ve waited quite long enough for Peyton Prescott. My patience may have finally been exhausted.”

  Evan blew out a heavy breath and climbed out of the carriage. He motioned to the driver, and Amelia rolled away, being intent that Peyton never presume she’d been pondering him for a single second.

  * * * *

  Evan was sitting in Peyton’s front parlor when the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen strolled into the room. With auburn hair and big blue eyes, she was the kin
d of female who caused a man to gape and behave like an idiot.

  She was wearing a simple gown, a lavender print with cream-colored lace on the neck and cuffs, but from the way it hung on her slender frame, it looked exceedingly elegant, as if it had been sewn by the finest dressmaker in Paris.

  He had a sinking feeling that he’d bumped into the alluring, elusive Josephine Bates. No wonder Amelia had been so devastated. If Evan had witnessed this vixen nestled on Peyton’s lap, he’d have been devastated too.

  “Oh, hello,” she said as he stood to greet her. “I didn’t realize we had a guest.”

  “Hello.” He struggled to be cordial, even as he was raging on the inside. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Evan Boyle. I’m a friend of the Earl’s.”

  “Mr. Boyle! He’s spoken of you so often.”

  Her comment indicated a lengthy acquaintance of which he was unaware, and he forced a smile. “I’ve known him since we were boys, so I have no secrets from him. I hope he hasn’t shared any shocking details.”

  “Heaven’s no. It’s all been good.”

  She approached, and he watched her carefully, deciding she was graceful and polished, and he speculated as to whether Amelia hadn’t been correct. Was this an aristocrat’s daughter? Her demeanor painted her as someone from the upper echelons of society.

  But she said, “I’m Miss Bates. Josephine Bates.” So…not an aristocrat’s daughter after all. “I’m a friend of the Earl’s too.”

  “Pardon me for being blunt, but I thought I knew all his friends.”

  “I’m new. We only met the past month or so.”

  “How nice for you.”

  He kept his expression blank, not eager to provide a hint of his distress. She was very much at home in the parlor. Gad, were she and Peyton living in sin? Had matters progressed so far? If so, how could Evan not have guessed?

  Mr. Newman poked his nose into the room. “Lord Benton will see you, Mr. Boyle, but he’s moving slowly today.”

  “What a sluggard he’s become.” Evan tried to make the remark sound funny, but it fell flat.

  Miss Bates loyally explained, “He was up very late.”