Jilted By A Cad (Jilted Brides Trilogy Book 1)

by Cheryl Holt

  “I can support your child,” Evan reminded her. “You don’t need him.”

  “I haven’t agreed to wed you. You haven’t convinced me it’s a good idea.”

  Evan steadied his expression, determined Jo never discover the horrendous lie he’d spewed at Peyton. He’d declared that he and Jo were married, but it wasn’t true. Evan had proposed, but for the moment, she’d declined, claiming she had to ponder for a bit.

  He shouldn’t have tricked his old friend, but he understood Peyton all too well. Peyton would never blithely permit Jo to slip through his fingers. It wasn’t so much that he was fond of her, but he didn’t like to lose and he was very vain. He always had to get his way.

  Jo was anxious to move on with her life, and by deceiving Peyton, Evan had helped her accomplish her goal.

  People would probably be astonished to learn that he’d proposed, but it wasn’t such a wild notion. He’d been contemplating matrimony for years, but he hadn’t met a female who was worth the bother.

  Jo was worth it. His sister and mother adored her, and why wouldn’t they? She was beautiful and sweet, educated and loyal. She was all a fellow sought in a bride. No, she didn’t have a dowry, but she brought every other positive attribute to the table.

  What sane man wouldn’t pick her?

  “I will convince you to marry me though—eventually.” Evan glanced at her tummy. “It’s not as if you can traipse around much longer without a husband.”

  “Yes, but you’ve already been much too kind to me. You don’t have to sacrifice yourself.”

  He scoffed. “I’ve informed you over and over, Jo. It will hardly be a sacrifice.”

  “I’m having another man’s child, Evan. I don’t believe you’ve considered all the ramifications.”

  “It’s not as if the child will be a stranger to us,” Evan insisted. “Peyton practically grew up in this house.”

  “I don’t deem that a compelling basis for you to wed me. It only makes the match sound more peculiar.”

  Evan turned to his sister. “Tell her it will be all right. Would you please?”

  “I have told her, but she’s dubious.”

  “With valid reason!” Jo added.

  “You should remember, Jo,” Amelia said, “that Evan is as vain and driven as Peyton. He never does anything he doesn’t want to do. If he didn’t want you to be his wife, he wouldn’t have asked you.”

  Jo scowled. “I wish all of us had more time to reflect on our choices.”

  “Well, Evan has all the time in the world, but you don’t have that luxury. You have to focus on how fast the clock is ticking.”

  “I’ve thought of naught else for months,” Jo admitted, “and it’s wrong to rope your brother into a quandary he didn’t create and shouldn’t have to fix.”

  “Don’t worry about him,” Amelia said. “He’s a master at fixing quandaries.”

  “Yes, but maybe I should have to fix this on my own.”

  “How would you?”

  “I could buy a cheap wedding ring and move to a village in the country. I could pretend to be a widow.”

  “I’m sure no female has ever used that ridiculous story before. How would you support yourself?”

  “Lord Benton would support me.”

  Evan and Amelia laughed, and Evan said, “You can’t rely on him. If you could, wouldn’t you be his bride about now?”

  “You’re correct of course.” Jo sighed. “This entire episode has exhausted me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Evan murmured.

  “It’s not your fault. It’s Lord Benton’s fault.”

  “It certainly is.”

  “I need to rest for a bit.”

  Jo headed off, and they were frozen in place until her door closed.

  Then Amelia whispered, “How did you force him to depart? What did you really say?”

  “I told a little white lie.” Evan paused, then shrugged. “Actually, it wasn’t little or white. It was quite a whale of a falsehood.”

  “What was it?” his sister asked.

  “I told him Jo and I are married.”

  “Evan! You didn’t!”

  “I couldn’t figure out how else to persuade him to leave her alone. I claimed she was my wife, and I didn’t want him talking to her.”

  “He believed you?”

  “Yes.”

  “What if she never weds you, Evan? What if he finds out you deceived him?”

  “I don’t care if he finds out. He’s not entitled to any honorable conduct with regard to her. He’s behaved despicably.”

  “I know, but what if she discovers you tricked him? I like her so much, and I’m glad we’re friends. I can’t envision a better conclusion than to have her as my sister-in-law.”

  “I’m delighted to hear it.”

  “But this is a terrible secret to keep from her.”

  “Do you think she loved him?”

  “Probably.”

  “Do you think she still does?”

  “I can’t guess, and I haven’t asked her.”

  “Whatever her opinion,” he said, “she was yanked to her senses quickly enough when he failed to attend his own wedding. Can you imagine how she must have felt?”

  “No, I can’t. What happened that day? Why would he treat her so shabbily?”

  “It doesn’t matter, but we’ve had a whole lifetime to learn what he’s like. She had to learn in an instant. She can never trust him.”

  “I suppose,” she grumbled.

  “And I will wear her down. I want her to marry me. It’s the perfect ending for both of us.”

  “Yes, it is, dear brother, and don’t forget that you relish the chance to play the part of knight in shining armor.”

  “I admit it. I have a soft spot for damsels in distress, and Peyton’s not the only one who always gets his way.”

  “No, he’s not.”

  “She’ll ultimately agree to have me,” he predicted. “After all, it’s not as if she can refuse to make up her mind. I was betting it will occur by Saturday.”

  “Why Saturday?”

  “We’ve invited all the neighbors to supper, and it will be a festive occasion. Why not announce an engagement while we’re merry and celebrating?”

  “Why not indeed?”

  * * * *

  “What is it?” Barbara demanded.

  She was in her boudoir, and she whipped around to glare at her maid. The woman had run in as if the house was on fire.

  “Lord Benton has arrived.”

  “Thank you for apprising me. Inform him that I’ll be down shortly.”

  “You should come now, my lady.”

  “Why?”

  “He has a dozen ruffians with him, and when I was eavesdropping, he ordered them to begin packing Master Richard’s things first.”

  Barbara scowled. “Packing what things? His belongings?”

  “Yes. Lord Benton sent them to his bedchamber, then he asked Mr. Newman for the names of all the servants who traveled to Benton with you from your father’s property.”

  “Why would he have to know that?”

  “He told Mr. Newman that we’ll all be leaving with you.”

  “Leaving? The man’s insane. I’m not going anywhere. Neither are any of you.”

  “Lord Benton said we’re all going now—this morning.”

  “Help me finish with my clothes.”

  Barbara was alarmed and furious. Wasn’t it enough that they’d nursed him back to health after he’d nearly killed himself? Wasn’t it enough that they’d worked themselves to the bone for him—when none of them could abide him?

  She dashed into her dressing room and grabbed her simplest gown. Her maid assisted with laces, buttons, and shoes, and in a quick minute, she was racing down the stairs.

  The scene in the foyer was chaotic. Men were scurrying about, carrying in crates and trunks. They appeared tough and dangerous, like
pugilists who fought in the boxing ring. The front door was open, and out in the drive, there were numerous wagons, the field horses hitched and ready to haul away heavy loads.

  Peyton was standing in the middle of the mayhem, barking commands, giving directions, and acting very much like the pompous aristocrat he’d become upon his brother’s death.

  She hurried over and forced a calm expression onto her face, even though she was livid.

  “Peyton, what’s happening? You’re creating an enormous amount of turmoil. Must you stir such a commotion?”

  “Hello, Barbara,” was his only comment.

  “How about if we step into the library? Let’s find a more private spot where we can talk.”

  “We don’t need to talk.”

  He glowered at her so coldly that she staggered back. If he’d struck her, she wouldn’t have been surprised. He looked that angry.

  Her brother rushed up, and he gaped at the stacks of trunks and boxes.

  “Peyton!” Richard snapped. “I heard you were blustering around like a mad hornet. What the devil are you about?”

  Peyton didn’t respond to Richard. Instead, he turned to the man next to him and said, “This is Mr. Slater. Escort him down to the wagons and be certain he stays there. He won’t be allowed inside my house again.”

  “But…but…you can’t be serious,” Richard stammered.

  Peyton still hadn’t addressed him, and the man seized Richard and started out. Richard glanced at her over his shoulder, imploring, “Barbara! Stop this lunacy!”

  “Peyton, please!” she tried.

  “I won’t go!” Richard insisted. “You can’t make me!”

  He was yanked through the door at a brisk pace, and though he attempted to wrestle away, the man simply tightened his grip. Richard continued to complain though, calling to Barbara, but his words rapidly faded.

  Peyton gestured into the parlor. “Now we can chat.”

  “Yes, of course we should. Clearly, you’re distraught, but I can’t imagine why. What have we done? I wish—just once—you would behave like a rational human being.”

  He didn’t reply, and she kicked herself for hurling an insult. Why would she? He’d merely grow more incensed.

  They entered the parlor, and without preamble, he asked, “Where is Daisy?”

  She hadn’t expected the question, and she blanched before she could conceal her reaction.

  “Daisy Prescott?” she innocently inquired. “Is that who you mean?”

  “Yes, that’s precisely who I mean.”

  “Why would I know where she is?”

  “Are you sure that should be your answer?”

  A perilous silence stretched out, and he waited, then waited some more for her to expound. How had he learned about the blasted girl? And so swiftly too! Was he a sorcerer? Would Barbara ever succeed in thwarting him? Her mind was racing to devise a suitable lie, but in the end, she figured it was best to deny and deny and deny.

  “I haven’t a clue where she is,” Barbara firmly stated. She’d go to her grave pretending she didn’t know.

  “I will give you one chance to confess your treachery toward Josephine Bates. Depending on your candor, I will then decide how much compassion to show you.”

  He had the most aggravating knack for making her feel small and irrelevant, and she frowned, feigning confusion. “Josephine Bates? Why would you ask me about her?”

  “One chance, Barbara. That’s it. You were married to my brother, and I realize your life with him was horrid. I’m sorry for what you endured, so I’ll let you tell me the truth. If you do, I will rein in my temper, and I won’t punish you quite so severely.”

  A thousand possible avenues flitted in her head at lightning speed. What was safest? What was the most believable? Or should she admit her perfidy and beg for mercy? He’d never seemed very merciful though, so it probably wasn’t a good plan.

  “I have no information about Miss Bates or Neville’s bastard daughter.”

  “Fine. Have it your way.”

  A young man poked his nose in. “May I interrupt, Commander Prescott?”

  “Yes, Arthur. What is it?”

  “I found out where they sent your niece.”

  “Marvelous.”

  Peyton waved him in, and Arthur slapped a document into his hand.

  After perusing it, Peyton asked Arthur, “Where did you find this?”

  “In the estate agent’s office, in Mr. Slater’s desk.”

  “Excellent work,” Peyton said to him. “Now that I’ve discovered Daisy’s whereabouts, I don’t need to confer with my sister-in-law. Her brother is outside with the wagons. Escort her there too.”

  Arthur glared at her. “If you’ll come with me, my lady?”

  “I most certainly will not.”

  “Get her out of here,” Peyton seethed, “before I grow angry.”

  Arthur stomped over and grabbed her arm, and he marched her out—just as Richard had been marched out. Arthur was a lean, thin fellow, and Barbara struggled with him, but she couldn’t wrench free.

  As they reached the door, she peered back at Peyton. “Can we discuss this?”

  “No, and if Daisy has been harmed, there will be a price you’ll have to pay.”

  “It was all Richard’s idea.”

  “Really?”

  “I warned him not to move against Miss Bates, but he’s always been too loyal to me. He wouldn’t listen.”

  “I’ve already unraveled what happened, Barbara. You were both there at her house. You both participated. You can’t deflect the blame.”

  “When you were injured, we managed the finances for you, and we didn’t understand the expenditure for the rent on that house. You’d ordered us to cut down on our spending, and we went to check. That’s all. We were…were…trying to be fiscally responsible!”

  “Shut up, Barbara. With every word you utter, you dig a deeper hole.”

  “Peyton!” She actually stamped her foot—like a toddler having a tantrum.

  He shifted his gaze to Arthur. “Get her out to the wagons, then round up the Slater servants and get them out too. I won’t give them a final opportunity to steal or break anything.”

  Alice took that moment to run in. Her sister, Nancy, was hot on her heels.

  “Mother,” Alice frantically asked, “what is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Your uncle is evicting us,” Barbara furiously spat.

  “Not all of you,” Peyton said. “Alice, Nancy, come here.” Alice complied, but Nancy dithered next to Barbara, and Peyton snapped, “Nancy! Come!”

  He was very authoritative, and when he hurled a command, it was difficult to defy him. Nancy walked over and stood with Alice. Barbara gaped at the three of them, instantly recognizing that they’d formed a trio that didn’t include her.

  She’d never been an overly maternal person, but they belonged with her.

  “You can’t keep them!” Barbara raged. “I won’t allow it. I’m their mother.”

  “And I’m their guardian,” Peyton retorted, “so your opinion is irrelevant.”

  “You can’t keep them,” she repeated.

  “It’s not up to you, and they can’t live with you. I don’t believe they’d be safe.”

  “Not safe?” she huffed. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “I witnessed your capacity for malice in how you treated Daisy and Miss Bates. I can’t risk that your temper might flare and you’d imperil your daughters.”

  “That’s absurd!” Barbara fumed. “I would never imperil them.”

  “Well, this way,” Peyton said, “I can guarantee that you never have the chance.”

  “Is Miss Bates Daisy’s aunt?” Alice asked him. “Mother hates her. I heard her and Uncle Richard talking.”

  “I know your mother hates her,” Peyton said.

  “Is Daisy all right?”

  “I don’t know that, Alice, but I intend
to find out.” He focused on Barbara again. “Have you ever wondered what became of Miss Bates? Has her condition ever crossed your mind?”

  “I did nothing to her! I told you it was Richard’s scheming.”

  “Ever since my brother died, I’ve been confused as to why he put me in charge of Nancy and Alice. Your recent escapade has proved what you’re really like, so it’s all clear to me now. I won’t leave my wards with you. I’d be too afraid you might harm them, and I wouldn’t be present to stop you.”

  “I’m their mother,” she stated again, as if he hadn’t noticed the relationship.

  “I’d like to stay with her,” Nancy dared to say, but Alice mumbled, “I wouldn’t.”

  Their uncle shook his head at Nancy. “I can’t let you depart with her today. For the time being, you’ll have to remain here with me. We’ll check on her in a few weeks to assess her circumstances, then we’ll discuss it.”

  “Where am I to go?” Barbara demanded. “Tell me that—if you can!”

  “I don’t care where you wind up, Barbara, so long as you are removed from my sight immediately.” He nodded to the fiend, Arthur. “Get her out of my home.”

  Barbara was dragged away, but she managed a fleeting glimpse at her daughters. Nancy looked stunned, but Alice looked quite pleased.

  “Alice! Nancy!” she called. “Come with me! Come at once!”

  Then she was whisked into the foyer, and as their uncle rested a steadying hand on their shoulders, neither of them took a step to obey.

  * * * *

  “You’re a big fat liar.”

  “I am not.”

  Daisy sat on the floor in the common room at the workhouse. She stared at the girls surrounding her. There were some who were friendly, but they were grossly outnumbered by those who were older and tougher.

  Most of them had grown up in the terrible facility, and it had made them cruel. They fought for every little scrap, acting like wild dogs with no trainer to teach them how to behave.

  Daisy had learned to keep her head down and her mouth shut. It was dangerous to draw attention to herself. She was different from all of them. She’d been reared at Benton, had been schooled by Miss Watson and her other governesses. She was pretty and smart and educated, and they resented her for it.