by Jaimey Grant
It also occurred to her that Lucy was, in actuality, a spy for her father. She didn’t care. Lucy could tell them whatever she chose to impart. It would not change Jenny’s feelings toward her family and their meddling.
Jenny filled her days with sewing little infant garments for her baby, whose arrival was even more anxiously awaited than before. Her days she could fill with mindless, thoughtless activities.
That was simple.
But her nights…her nights were spent regretting the loss of her husband and reliving the one intimate encounter she’d had with him. What she wouldn’t give for just one night in his arms!
She’d wake every morning with tears dried on her face, miserably sad.
And her family avoided her.
After the first few weeks of refusing to see any of them, they stopped coming, only sending the occasional note. She never read the notes unless they came from her mother and even then, she never answered them.
Gwen had returned from Scotland with her new husband and been accepted back into the family fold. Even Miles, despite his having run off with the precious Lady Guinevere Northwicke, was wholeheartedly accepted. It was just one more thing to add to her already immense bitterness towards her family.
She had no way of knowing it was their conduct with Dare that made them more willing to accept Miles, in spite of his actions—actions of which Jenny still had no real knowledge.
It was with a great amount of willpower that Jenny refused to see her twin when Gwen showed up on her doorstep.
Things might have gone on in this less than healthy vein for quite some time had not Jenny received a surprise and wholly unexpected visitor.
She was due to have her child sometime within the next month. She was ungainly, and so large that she was positive she was carrying twins.
It would not be surprising, she thought wryly, a sad twisting of her lips passing for a smile.
She was walking in the garden, enjoying the mild fall weather when she was alerted to the sound of a horse approaching. She circled around the house to the front door, her steps slow and ponderous.
She heard the visitor dismount before she’d quite reached the front. When she finally rounded the last corner, she looked up.
And gasped.
Dare?
A second, closer look revealed that it wasn’t, in fact, her husband but her sister’s. Dare’s eyes were just a shade darker, his hair a touch longer.
And he was far handsomer, in Jenny’s biased opinion.
Knowing she actually had it in her to be quite rude to an unwelcome guest—she’d more than proven that these past few months—she also knew there was no way she could turn away her husband’s twin brother.
So, pasting on a determined smile, she advanced, holding out one hand while holding her skirts with the other.
“Miles, how lovely to see you,” she lied.
Miles looked her over carefully, as if searching for visible injuries. Finally, he met her eyes. “You look radiant, Jenny,” he told her softly.
She released a rather unladylike snort. “Nonsense. I am a cow and look as tired as I feel.” Hoping rather perversely that he would decline, she asked, “Would you care for tea?”
He accepted after another drawn out moment of careful thought. Jenny reflected that Miles hadn’t changed at all, even after doing something so unexpected like eloping with her sister. He still made every decision only after careful thought.
“How is Gwen?” she asked, leading the way into the cottage.
“She would be much better if you’d agree to see her,” was his acerbic reply.
Jenny turned, meeting Miles’s eyes with both of her pale brows lifted in surprise. Perhaps he had changed some after all. She was absurdly pleased.
“I am rather…estranged from my family, as you surely know,” she said in response.
“I can understand that, having been filled in on some horrifying details before I was pressed into coming to see you. I fail to see, however, how that affects your relationship with your twin. She’d never hurt you.”
Jenny gestured toward one of the two comfortable armchairs in her quaint little sitting room. She moved to the bellpull but Miles beat her there, giving it a tug before helping her to her own seat, opposite his.
She smiled her thanks even as she remarked, “I know she never meant to hurt me, Miles. And part of me, despite how everything has turned out, is grateful that she stole you from me. But another part of me can’t get past the fact that I could be contentedly married to you instead of miserably married to your brother.”
A moment of stunned silence followed. “That was blunt,” her guest finally said, a bit woodenly. “I’m not sure how to respond to that.”
Jenny shrugged and would have replied but Lucy walked in, bobbed a curtsy, and asked what she could do. Jenny smiled with genuine affection at the maid and ordered tea.
When she’d gone, Jenny said, “It has all worked out for the best though.”
This time, it was Miles who snorted. “That is highly debatable.”
Her smile wavered a bit. “Perhaps it is,” she admitted readily. “It would be far better had Dare stayed despite whatever my father told him to induce him to leave.” A tear trembled on her lashes, but she wiped it away briskly. “None of it matters anymore anyway. For all we know, he’s dead.”
Her statement ended on a rather strangled note and she had to duck her head to hide the sudden welling in her eyes. She would not cry now. Not after so many months…or weeks…very well, days without shedding a tear.
Hours, rather, she thought dejectedly.
Miles moved across the room, knelt at her feet. She hadn’t even realized he’d gotten up until he lifted her chin.
“He is not dead, Jenny. He writes Adam faithfully every week.”
An inarticulate “Oh” was all she managed to say to that little piece of information. “How is he?” She tried not to sound too terribly interested but even her child must have sensed her tension. A strong kick was her answer from that quarter.
Miles must have felt it, close as he was to her. His eyes widened and he smiled for the first time since arriving.
Impulsively, Jenny took his hand and placed it on her distended belly. She might not be able to share this wonderful part of pregnancy with her husband but she hoped he could at least experience some of it through the bond he shared with his twin if nothing else.
Miles resisted the improper gesture at first but then he relaxed and pressed his palm gently against her stomach.
As they waited for the next movement, he murmured, “He asks Adam and Bri about you.” A tiny flutter under his palm coincided with her swift intake of breath. He smiled sadly, glancing up at his sister-in-law. “He misses you and constantly asks about his child.” Another flutter, stronger this time. Miles almost thought the baby was reacting to his voice if not his actual words.
Carefully meeting her eyes, he demanded gently but firmly, “Answer a question for me, Jenny.” She nodded, her hand still clasped over his on her belly. “If Dare returned, would you accept him?”
Jenny’s quivering chin heralded the onslaught of another bout of weeping. Nodding emphatically, she whispered, “I accepted him long ago, Miles. I would have told him at our wedding if he had but given me the chance.”
The baby—or babies—settled down, apparently having managed to wear itself out. Miles returned to his seat, a thoughtful smile playing about his lips.
Jenny, painfully aware of just how alike Miles and her husband were, stifled the urge to demand Miles’s swift departure. It was most depressing to gaze at the mirror image of the man with whom she was in love. Especially when she grew more and more sure with each passing day that her husband would not return.
Holding the incipient tears firmly in abeyance, she asked, “Why did my family send you to me?” Lifting the teapot, she poured some into two cups and, without thinking, added a dollop of cream to one, handing it to her guest.
Mil
es stared at her blankly. Having had tea several times with Jenny and Gwen in the months that he’d known them, he knew that Jenny was fully aware of how he liked his tea—sugar, no cream.
Dare preferred his with cream, no sugar…when whiskey wasn’t available, that is.
Miles wondered uneasily if he might break down and cry himself before this visit was over.
Jenny, after a moment of protracted silence, met Miles’s eyes in confusion. He just sat there, holding his teacup, glancing at it oddly. Then she realized what she’d done.
Using the very last of her reserve of strength, Jenny forced a laugh from her achingly tight throat. “Oh, dear,” she murmured. Spooning sugar into her own tea, she handed it across to him. “I am sorry, Miles. I wasn’t thinking.” Her voice trailed away on a broken little sob and she fell silent.
Miles shook his head. “Please do not distress yourself, Jenny.” He paused, then set aside the tea he held, leaning forward slightly. “I was sent to try to convince you to relent towards your family,” he admitted.
A lengthy pause followed in which Jenny waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, she asked, “And why haven’t you?”
He sighed a little. “I think a part of me is just as upset as you are. Dare, while having behaved rather badly at first, should not be treated as if he is dirt for the rest of his life.”
“I did wonder why you were so readily accepted upon your return.”
“Denbigh admitted he was wrong.”
Something inside Jenny clenched. “He actually said that?” she managed to whisper around the pain tightening around her heart.
Miles nodded. “Con did as well.”
The tears could not longer be held back. Jenny cried. And cried. And cried.
Miles watched helplessly, not sure what he could do to help but knowing he should do something.
In the end, he just waited for her to compose herself.
Jenny did, finally, bring her tears under control. She started to laugh then, odd, tearful sort of sounds that bordered on the hysterical. Miles was confused and alarmed by her behavior.
“Is that supposed to make everything all right now?” she asked sharply, each word punctuated by another choking sound of mirthless laughter. “Am I supposed to skip back home now, content and at ease, because Daddy and Con admitted they were wrong?” Her voice was approaching shrill but the laughter had stopped, replaced by fury. “I have a problem with that logic, Miles Prestwich. They may have been wrong, but I still have NO HUSBAND!”
Miles rose and grasped her by the arms, bringing her up to her feet. Giving her the tiniest of shakes, he snapped angrily, “Actually, Jenny, no one assumed anything. You’ve proven beyond doubt these months past that you cannot forgive. Even the sister to whom you owe much.”
He suddenly dropped his hands as if burned, stepping back a few paces to avoid doing something despicable like strike the infuriating little witch.
Jenny stared at him wide-eyed. “What do I owe her?” she asked softly, truly curious as to his answer.
Miles sighed deeply, splaying the fingers of his right hand through his short black hair. “It was Gwen who wanted to elope, Jenny,” he confessed. “She tried to convince me it was the only way to make sure you were able to wed Dare. She knew your father would convince Dare to do right by you if he didn’t come to the decision on his own.”
“And, obviously, you agreed.”
“I didn’t,” he admitted. He stared at her a long moments as if unsure whether to continue. Finally, he added, “Gwen asked Lady Prestwich for help who in turn asked Lord Greville for help. Greville kidnapped me and it wasn’t until I woke up in Gwen’s bed that I was informed that we were eloping.” His expression mirrored his self-disgust. “I had no choice but to continue on to Gretna.”
“You could have returned and let Gwen deal with her own ruined reputation,” Jenny pointed out, knowing Miles would never have done such a thing in a million years.
“I could have,” he surprised her by admitting. “And I would have, considering how extremely improper, not to mention dangerous, her actions were, had I not already been completely in love with her.”
Jenny smiled sincerely and truly at her unwanted guest. “I knew. Had Gwen asked me to help I would have.”
Miles dipped his head in acknowledgment of her rather backhanded compliment. “Gwen managed to convince me that it was for the best anyway. But I swear, neither of us even suspected Denbigh would make Dare leave after the vows.”
“I do not blame you, Miles, or Gwen. I am glad at least, of the four of us, that two are happy with how their lives have ended up.” Smoothing her hands over her belly, Jenny gazed down unseeingly. With a difficult little breath, she met his eyes again. “I am truly happy for you and my sister. But I cannot let go yet.” Her breath caught on a sob. “I have no pride anymore. If Dare showed up right now, I’d beg him to stay, promising anything in my power to induce him. At this point, all I have is my resentment. I have little doubt that I will relent in time.”
She paused, gazing off into the distance. “I can’t explain it, Miles. It doesn’t make sense to me. I feel as though the resentment is all that is holding me together. If I let go, I’ll shatter.”
It was a very thoughtful Miles Prestwich that left the very pregnant Lady Genevieve moments later. He rode in utter silence, pondering deeply the things she’d revealed…and some things she hadn’t.
It was apparent to the veriest nodcock that she was deeply in love with his brother, despite assurances by certain other parties that her feelings were superficial. Had he not seen her tears and heard her assertion from her own lips, he still would have believed she was in love with Dare. It was in her every movement, her every breath.
And she was waiting for her husband to return.
Miles drew in a deep breath. His intuition, not to mention the fact that he could feel his twin’s pain, told him that Dare wanted his family. But Miles was unsure if Dare’s pride had relented enough to allow him to return.
Other than inquiring after her health in the vaguest of terms, Dare had not mentioned Jenny in any of the many letters he’d sent to Adam. He’d asked about the child, if it had arrived yet and begged—begged!—for details about it.
Oh yes, Miles knew Dare wanted the baby. But pride was a damnably hard thing to discard.
Chapter Seventeen
Some months later…
Dare stepped off the boat, experiencing a feeling of intense déjà vu. He shivered from more than just the cold, glancing around uneasily, almost expecting to see Adam with a gentleman and a veiled lady. But he could see nothing through the early morning fog.
He was reasonably startled, therefore, when Adam emerged from the mist. In fact, he nearly jumped from his skin.
“Adam! Damn and blast, what the devil are you trying to do? You scared me half to death.” He forced his breathing to still, not liking his cousin’s grim expression.
But then, Adam always looked grim.
Jenny’s face lifted before his mind’s eye, her beautiful face creased in delight, laughing at some jest. He choked back a groan. Even after all these months, just picturing her could nearly bring him to his knees.
With Jenny firmly in his thoughts, he asked sharply, “How is she? And the baby?”
Adam put his arm around the younger man’s shoulders, leading him firmly in a particular direction. Dare realized with something akin to panic that Adam was far grimmer than was his wont.
“I have a carriage,” the baronet told him, pointedly delaying his answer.
Dare considered digging in his heels, forcing his cousin to speak, but realized the futility of such an action. Adam could not be forced. Bri was able to cajole, coerce, or bribe him upon occasion but even she was only able to do what Adam allowed.
So he went with Adam, his mind concocting all kinds of horrific things that could have happened to Jenny and the baby. Fearing madness, he stifled the fears, adopting a bland expression.
&nb
sp; Once ensconced in his carriage, Adam asked, “What did you discover? Was it Penryn?”
Dare decided to allow Adam’s choice in conversation since there was much on that score he needed to reveal and it was rather imperative that he do so.
So, fears for his wife firmly suppressed, he disclosed, “Penryn was involved but not in the way we suspected.”
Adam’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Indeed? How was he involved if not in charge?”
“Honestly, he knew nothing about it. It was one of his captains, his most trusted, to be precise.”
“Hence, the reason it appeared to be Penryn himself behind it all.”
“Exactly. The man has apparently been wrecking for years.” Dare leaned forward, warming to his theme. “Nearly a decade ago, the earl’s brother was the ringleader, wrecking and causing general mayhem. The brother went to Waterloo and returned a trifle unbalanced. Added to his earlier criminal tendencies, he became a force to be reckoned with. One of Penryn’s employees—incidentally, she is now his wife—uncovered a plot to kill Penryn. His brother was killed. Evidently, the captain, being employed by the Earls of Penryn for more than thirty years, took it upon himself to continue with the young honorable’s chosen profession, having not been implicated himself.”
“What has Penryn done?”
“Had the captain taken up on charges, of course. But the blasted magistrate lost the fellow and a posse had to be assembled.” Dare leaned back, a smile of supreme satisfaction crossing his dark features. “I found the blackguard hiding out in a shack on Penryn’s own estate.”
“You found him?”
Dare’s expression became shuttered. “He will not be wrecking any more of your ships, I assure you.”
Adam let it go at that, satisfied. “And Penryn?”
“Sends his abject apologies and this.” Dare handed Adam a small slip of paper. “It’s a draft. He wanted to make some sort of restitution since it was his man who was culpable. He said he hoped it would suffice for now.”
Adam briefly scanned the paper in the dim light coming through the carriage windows. His eyes widened slightly at the amount on the paper but he said nothing about it, simply folding it and putting it in his waistcoat pocket.
