by Lynda Hurst
As her twin, Jackson had understood the underlying meaning behind her question: she wanted to know if he behaved as a proper gentleman should while alone with Margaret. What his answer would have been, if he chose to answer her, depended entirely on perspective. A bachelor such as himself should never be found alone with an unmarried lady for too long, but should still be honor-bound to conduct himself in such a manner so as not to compromise the lady’s reputation. Not unless he was prepared to be shipped off to the nearest church altar with her.
But from his own evaluation of the stolen moments with Margaret, he felt that he should have been lauded for his good behavior, for not allowing things to escalate further than a kiss. But he knew his sister nor the ton would clap him on the back for his restraint.
Instead, he had said as he tweaked Mary’s nose, “It would be ungentlemanly of me to say. What transpired between Margaret and me is really none of your business.”
Wrinkling her nose after the childish tweaking it was served, Mary had exclaimed, “Oho! If you aren’t telling your own twin what went on, then it must be something worthy of keeping it a secret!” When Jackson hadn’t volunteered anything further by remaining silent, Mary had gone on, the spirit of fun alight in her eyes, “No, don’t tell me. I want to hazard a guess. You’ve finally realized the dunderhead you’ve become and declared yourself to Margaret.”
His eyes had rounded owlishly at Mary, and it had been enough for Mary to burst out with a laugh. “I’m right, aren’t I? How about that? Faith and I had been debating just the other day over when you would finally realize your feelings for her.”
With the new day ahead of him, Jackson supposed he should begin his campaign for Margaret’s heart by first getting out of bed. Not to mention preparing to make his way back to the Prestonridge Townhouse to finally face down Frederick Revelstoke. In moments, he was properly outfitted for venturing out with Castor’s help, and then made his way downstairs to meet with Mary over breakfast.
Breakfast was quiet and brief, as the hour was still yet early. A note from Faith had arrived while they were still eating; it stated that Frederick would be arriving within the hour. Finished with the note, Jackson hastily jumped from his seat at the breakfast table, and urged Mary, “Let’s be on our way. Revelstoke will be there soon, and I don’t want to miss what he has to say for himself.” Mary nodded, still in mid-chew, and followed him out the door.
When they arrived, Hugo steered them towards the sitting room where everyone was already seated, including Frederick. Devlin sat next to Faith, while Margaret sat adjacent to Devlin in the same highbacked chair she had sat in the night before. Grayson was perched atop Faith’s lap while Frederick stared at the little boy. At the sight of the new arrivals, Faith smiled and said, “We had all just sat down. Please sit wherever you like.” Mary chose a chair on Faith’s other side while Jackson opted for the empty chair next to Margaret.
Looking Frederick up and down, Jackson noticed the other man’s demeanor in the light of day was markedly different from what they had seen last night. Frederick no longer looked the confident, assured gentleman who tried to intimidate Margaret since his return to England. On closer inspection, the man looked, for lack of a better word, humbled.
The thick silence was finally cut through by Frederick’s voice, awe coloring it as he still stared at Grayson who stared right back. “Faith, he’s beautiful. If I look hard enough, I can see a bit of Mother in him, and thankfully nothing of our father.”
Faith smiled kindly and said, “Thank you, Frederick. Now, will you tell me--tell us--what has happened that has brought you here?”
“All right, I owe you at least that.” Rounding on Devlin, he burst out, “As for you, I haven’t forgiven you for what you’ve done. If it weren’t for Faith and my nephew here, I would have torn you to pieces, but it’s only for their sakes that I’m staying my hand.”
Devlin said, stonily, “Fair enough. God knows I’ve berated myself many a time for my mistreatment of your family. I will just have to be thankful for your restraint.”
Nodding, Frederick continued. “When you had us thrown out, James and I had already been debt-ridden due to our efforts to raise funds for our family. We borrowed money only to use it on bad investments, and our father died, blaming us for the state of our finances. We hadn’t wanted to burden the rest of our siblings with the responsibility of paying back our debt so it was arranged that we would be indentured in the Colonies until the debt had been repaid.”
Faith gasped. Her older brothers had left the country when she was only sixteen, but she had thought at the time that her brothers were gambling wastrels who spent every shilling they had on games of chance. This shocking revelation had everyone proving everyone’s assumptions of the older Revelstokes to be false, and it had the women look at him with sad pity while Devlin and Jackson watched him warily.
Faith asked, “Indentured? What were you made to do?”
Anger simmered just underneath his skin, as Frederick gritted out, “James and I were no better than the lowliest slave, working ourselves to the bone on a great plantation. It was our misfortune to have found that our wages only covered what was needed to reduce our debt. We had to beg for our own food, but there were too many nights we went hungry. When we finally paid back our debt, I had made up my mind to seek what revenge I could against Prestonridge.”
Margaret cut in, “How were you planning to accomplish that? I remember the look on your face when I told you about Faith, Devlin, and Grayson, and then you suddenly had me in your sights. What were you thinking?”
Frederick plainly said, “I never claimed sainthood, and as I already knew my reputation before leaving England was already besmirched, threatening a lady was just another thing to add to my list of sins. I wasn’t about to harm anyone that shared my blood.”
Devlin added, “For that I am grateful to you. But my sister? What would that have served?”
“If you haven’t already guessed, I have come back to reacquire the Revelstoke estate. After Lady Margaret had informed me about your new family, Prestonridge, I saw a way to get back my birthright through her.”
Jackson’s wild imagination had him shouting, “How was marrying her going to get you back your lands?”
Frederick scoffed, “That idea did have some merit, but that’s not what I had in mind. It was my plan to use her as a bargaining chip to have the Revelstoke lands signed over to me. What need have I of a wife when I’m still a homeless man, albeit with a title?”
Margaret narrowed her eyes at him, “How would you have used me as a bargaining chip? You’re being a little vague on the details.”
“Forgive me, my manners still have yet to fully resurface after having been gone too long from England,” he said, sarcasm heavy in his tone. “I feigned interest in you with the expectation that Prestonridge would be none too happy with me once I got too close. My aim was to toy with you to the brink of almost sullying your reputation for which I would have demanded the Revelstoke lands for the price of avoiding you altogether.”
Jackson seethed, “And why hadn’t you? What stopped you?”
Easily, Frederick said, “It was the sight of Faith. If it weren’t for our mother and father’s poison keeping us from truly being a family, she would have known that I would have done anything for my siblings. For her, especially.”
Faith whispered, “What? Why me? I had always thought you never wanted anything to do with me.”
Frederick looked saddened by her statement. “Our mother thought that James and I would be just like our father, and didn’t want us corrupting Erica, Ethan, or you and showed us only fear and hate. Our father whipped us for showing weakness by loving you, and thus we were conditioned not to show you any kind of affection.”
Openly sobbing, Faith managed to say through her tears, “And all that time, I thought I was unlovable, a girl with no real family, just living among people with whom she shared a bloodline.”
Frederick wasted
no time to get down on his knees before her, and earnestly say, “I could never forget you, Faith. If you didn’t know it then, know now that James and I have always loved our brother and sisters.”
Devlin cursed, “Damn that man for the hell he put his own blood through.” In agreement, Frederick nodded up at him, seeing the same sentiment he had for Edwin Revelstoke mirrored in the duke’s eyes.
Giving Faith a moment to compose herself, Frederick offered outstretched arms to hold his nephew. Grayson, recognizing a friendly face that looked similar to his mother’s, went willingly, only so he could turn and observe his mother.
As a child of two, Grayson was very astute for his age and stated anything he thought or felt with total abandon. “Mama, sad. You do?” he said sternly.
Margaret chuckled and interpreted for Frederick’s benefit, “He thinks you’re responsible for making his mama sad. You better explain to him quick before he starts—”
Grayson interrupted Margaret’s explanation with an ear-splitting wail of his own, one that greatly surprised Frederick. But instead of dropping the child, like Margaret expected him to do, Frederick gently shushed the boy assuring him, “No, Grayson. Uncle Fred made Mama so happy that she’s crying happy tears. See?”
As Grayson peered at his mother, Faith verified the statement by cooing, “I’m all right. Your Uncle Fred hasn’t hurt me at all. In fact, it’s the complete opposite.”
Margaret couldn’t resist and added, “Yes, and he won’t bother Auntie Meg ever again, isn’t that right, Uncle Fred?”
Looking disgruntled, he answered, “That’s correct.” The little boy seemed pleased by this affirmation and tried to squirm out of his uncle’s grip to reach his mother. Frederick passed the wriggling child to Faith who took him and settled him back in her lap as she rested her chin atop his unruly red curls.
Straightening, Frederick adopted a serious expression once again, and said, “I may have changed my mind about dallying with Lady Margaret, but I believe we still have the Revelstoke estate to discuss. I still intend to have it back in my possession.”
Devlin asked, cold once again, “How do you plan to do that? Since I assumed you were permanently in the Colonies, there has been some new developments planned for a portion of the land.”
Frederick mused over that tidbit for a moment. “What kind of developments?”
Jackson supplied, “Devlin and I were working on building a school that would help fill the gap in some of the local children’s education. It would also be a training center for adults, nobility or not, who would like to further their knowledge in other areas.”
Devlin provided Frederick the proposed location for this center, and again Frederick mulled over the information.
Finally, Frederick said, “As long as it doesn’t affect the people already living on the land, I’m agreeable to it. I would like to buy back the remainder that you aren’t using for your school.”
All eyes rounded in surprise. Devlin, being the first to come around from his shock, asked disbelievingly, “How are you to manage that? I thought you hadn’t a farthing to your name.”
Frederick shot him a lopsided smile. “That’s what everyone instinctively seems to assume about me. The truth is, James and I had finished off repaying our debt in the five years we had set foot on American soil.”
Faith sputtered, “But you have been gone for eight years! Why hadn’t you come back sooner? And why isn’t James here with you?”
“Because, dear sister, James and I had built our fortune over the three years that we stayed in America.”
“Doing what?” Mary piped up, curious to hear what sordid details he had to share.
“Nothing nefarious,” he replied vaguely. “On a loan, James and I bought a ship that we took to the Orient, meant to bring back spices and silk goods. Since then, we have paid back that loan, been heavily involved in trade, and now the both of us are as rich as Croesus.”
Annoyed that she had been an unwilling pawn in his earlier plot, Margaret cried, “Then what was the use of trying to blackmail my brother into giving you the Revelstoke lands if you were able to buy it back yourself?”
Frederick sheepishly smiled, “You said it yourself. I would have much rather have been given the land without my spending a single farthing of my own hard-earned money.”
Jackson cut in, “And what of your revenge that you claimed was so important?”
With a shrug, Frederick said, “I can’t truly say I’ve forgotten about it. However, that drivel was part of my plan for Margaret to repeat it back to Devlin to spark the desired response. It was all part of my plan to get back the land of my birthright.”
Silence awkwardly followed his announcement, the embarrassment tangible in the air that they had all been so easily duped by this man. Faith was the only one who rolled her eyes in the knowledge that the late Edwin Revelstoke had passed down his skill for manipulation to at least one of his sons.
Heaving a weary exhale, Devlin motioned for Frederick to follow him. “Come with me to my study, and we’ll see about drawing up the papers for the sale. We can have both of our solicitors called in tomorrow to manage the finer details. Jackson, you might want to come along, too.”
After the gentlemen excused themselves to lock themselves in Devlin’s study, the ladies were left to themselves to discuss the bewildering events that had just transpired. Somewhere in the middle of their conversation, Little Grayson had fallen asleep in his mother’s arms, lulled by the soft, feminine voices that floated around him. Margaret offered to put him to bed upstairs in the nursery as her privilege as his aunt and Faith gratefully accepted.
Leaving Mary and Faith, she carried the sleep-warm bundle down the hall, past Devlin’s study, where she could hear the blend of male voices behind its closed door.
Confident that the drama involving Frederick was brought to a tidy end, Margaret was relieved that she would no longer have to worry about the man’s unwanted advances, contrived as they were. Just as she had said so the night before.
Just before she reached the stairs, she heard her name called out behind her. Turning, she found Jackson just as he was shutting the door to Devlin’s study. “What is it?” she whispered.
Drawing closer, Jackson peered at the boy in her arms and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Oh, he’s asleep. I’ll help you take him upstairs.” And he gently extracted Grayson from her arms, resting the boy’s head against his shoulder.
Side by side, they navigated the stairs silently, careful not to make any unnecessary noise in deference to the sleeping boy. At the top of the stairs, Margaret led the way to the nursery, a trip both of them were familiar with since his birth. As the boy’s godparents, they took their duty to the boy seriously, involving themselves as much as their schedules would allow them to minister to him.
In the nursery, the nurse stationed there smiled at the sight of Margaret and Jackson accompanying Grayson and promptly left the room to allow them the enjoyment of putting the little lord to bed. In concert, Margaret rushed on silent feet to pull back the bedclothes as Jackson balanced the sleeping boy against his other arm to slowly lower him onto the bed. Gently, Margaret pulled off Grayson’s shoes and set them on the floor while Jackson pulled the covers up to the boy’s chin.
Before turning to leave, Margaret pressed a soft kiss on the little boy’s forehead as Jackson looked on. His heart seized at the tenderness she bestowed, knowing she would be just as loving and affectionate with her own children. Children he hoped they would share one day.
Gently grasping her arm, he led her out of the nursery and out into the hallway. At their presence, the nurse bobbed a quick curtsy to them both and returned into the nursery to keep watch as Grayson slept.
The nursery door closed behind them, and Margaret was once again alone with Jackson. Suddenly nervous, Margaret stammered as she looked up at him, “D-did you need me for something before you had noticed I had Grayson in my arms?”
To Jackson’s mind, tha
t question contained a different connotation than Margaret had intended in her sweet innocence. So, he answered in tune with the mood he was currently feeling. “Yes, that something is quite urgent.”
A wicked gleam glinted in his eye which she recognized too late. Before she knew it, he had backed her against a wall, his palms flattening against the wall on either side of her head. His gaze, intent upon her, now roamed further down to her lips.
“Oh?” she inquired, her heart hammering beneath her ribs. “Does it warrant you standing this close?”
“Yes. If It was possible to do this from a distance, I would have already done it. But that urgent something…”
His voice trailed off as he closed the distance between them and seized her lips with his. Pure pleasure pervaded, sending electric tingles starting from her toes and ending in what felt like tiny explosions firing from the top of her head. Her senses were aware of only Jackson: his clean, masculine scent; his heated touch; and his unique, delicious taste. Being honest with herself, she reveled in this kiss, more so than she had ever had with any other man before Jackson; those kisses were more desultory and brief while this kiss went on and on, making her feel that there was nothing else in the world but the two of them.
