Scandalous Scions Two

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  When breakfast ended, Mayerick served a fresh pot of tea, and the nurses took the children back upstairs to be washed and dressed for the day. That left the four of them alone in the dining room.

  Dane glanced at the open doorway. “I learned interesting things about Burscough last night at the club.”

  Ben raised his brow.

  “Should we perhaps go into the morning room?” Sharla asked.

  Jenny’s heart sank. Yesterday’s short conversation in the morning room had stretched her nerves and given her a headache. She dreaded returning to the interview process that Ben was insisting upon.

  “Here is fine,” Ben said. “Gossip is still gossip no matter where it is aired.”

  “It’s slightly more than gossip,” Dane replied. “Common knowledge, most of it, yet put together…” He took the full teacup Sharla handed him with a nod. “Burscough was the third son and never expected to inherit.”

  “I believe Jenny could have told you that, my dear,” Sharla said, smiling.

  Dane gave Jenny a glance. There was amusement in his eyes. “I’m sure Jenny can also tell us Burscough is a military man and saw service.”

  “In India,” Jenny added. “Although I don’t know what regiment. I’m not even sure about what rank. Burscough didn’t like to talk about it.”

  “Because he was drummed out,” Dane said. “Dishonorable discharge.”

  Jenny stared at him, shocked. “That isn’t possible. He served in India for six years, until he was called home.”

  “Two years,” Dane corrected. “He fought during the Indian Rebellion of 1857 and was wounded, which is why he limps, still. He would have been court-martialed for cowardice. The matter was hushed up because of his family connections. He was discharged, instead.”

  “He was in India for six years, though,” Jenny said, bewildered.

  Dane nodded. “The chap I spoke to last night was posted in Karachi with the British East India Company. He agrees with you on the date. Burscough travelled to India with his regiment in 1855. He served for two years, then remained in India for another four after that. He only came home when his brothers and father died and he was needed here.”

  “What was he doing in India for four years?” Ben asked. “It’s broadly known the family were not…well-founded.” He cleared his throat and glanced at Jenny.

  “That is true.” Jenny resisted smoothing her hand over the worn cotton of her dress.

  Dane grimaced. “Wilson, last night, used a phrase I’ve never before heard. He had to explain it. He said Burscough ‘went native’. It is apparently something that can strike a fellow who lives out in the colonies and empathizes too much with the natives. They turn into a native themselves, aping the customs and living just like them.”

  Jenny had trouble thinking of Burscough wearing a turban. He was too English. He liked hunting and brandy and cigars.

  “In Burscough’s case, it wasn’t so much the life, but the habits he picked up,” Dane added. “He ran an opium den in Karachi.”

  Sharla gasped. “Opium!” Her face grew pale.

  Jenny wondered why Sharla spoke the word with such dread. “Opium is the tobacco the Chinese use, isn’t it?”

  “And the third sons of destitute dukes,” Dane replied.

  “Oh.” Jenny frowned. “Why would he do something like that? It seems rather silly. Why not return home?”

  “Because he was the third son of a duke,” Dane replied patiently. “He knew there was nothing for him to inherit. He wrote off the family and lived like a native because no one cared.”

  “Including Burscough himself, I guess,” Ben added.

  “Then both older brothers died in a mine cave-in and his father died at the news,” Jenny murmured. “That made him the heir and forced him back to Britain. I see.”

  “None of that is useful for Jenny’s case,” Ben said.

  “It points to a weakness of the mind, though, doesn’t it?” Dane replied. “What other weaknesses does Burscough have?”

  Ben looked at Jenny. “I’m hoping we can uncover one or two at least. Shall we adjourn to the morning room?”

  Jenny sighed.

  Sharla narrowed her eyes. “A moment, Ben,” she said softly and leaned toward Jenny. “What happened after Jack kissed you?”

  Jenny cleared her throat. Her cheeks warmed, as she glanced at Dane, who sat with his brow lifted in astonishment.

  “Don’t look at Dane,” Sharla told her. “He has a broad mind, anyway—far broader than you or I, let me tell you.”

  Ben laughed.

  Sharla waved her hand at Ben. “Make yourself useful and pour Jenny another cup of tea, please. Jenny, don’t look at either of them. They’re men and don’t understand, while I do. Tell me about you and Jack. Just look at me and tell me, as you might in a letter. What happened after he kissed you? I would really like to know.”

  “Nothing happened,” Jenny said. “You know what it is like, Sharla. You lived there, too. There is always someone else in any room you go into, unless you go to your bedroom and shut the door. Even then, someone would find you there after a while.”

  “Yet you and Jack used to talk all the time, when you examined the ladies and their kisses.”

  Jenny frowned. “After the kiss, it became difficult to find time alone.”

  “Did you want it to be difficult?” Ben asked.

  Jenny dropped her gaze to her hands. “I think so, yes. I was confused and afraid.”

  “Because you thought it was wrong?” Sharla asked.

  Jenny shook her head. “No, never. We knew our bloodlines. Well, Jack knows his. Mama Elisa never did know who my real parents were. We knew there was no consanguinity between Jack and I. Only I thought it should feel wrong and because it didn’t, I wondered what was wrong with me, instead.”

  “He kissed you again, though,” Sharla said.

  Jenny looked down at her hands, remembering Sharla’s suggestion she speak as though she was writing a letter just for Sharla to read. Yet writing in her journal was easier than letter writing. What would she put down on a page of her journal?

  The words came to her. “Jack kissed me in the front foyer, right there in front of the door, when I was leaving one day and he was coming home. The door was open, anyone could have seen us. Yet he kissed me and it was as though the whole world melted away and there was just the two of us.”

  She kept her gaze on her fingers. At the edge of her vision, she saw Ben’s hand push a full teacup in front of her. She forced herself to focus on her hands once more. “After that, we couldn’t stop kissing each other. I could see it in his eyes when he looked at me, that he was thinking about it, about how we felt together. Then he attended Cambridge for the final examinations for his Masters certificate and everyone else returned to Fairleigh for the start of the hunting season.”

  “Then Innesford, in October,” Sharla murmured, “for the Gathering.”

  Jenny nodded. “By then, I was frantic with the need to see him and speak to him…to kiss him. It burned in me. Letters were a poor approximation. Jack pined for the family. For…me.” She breathed, easing the tension in her chest. “The next time we met was at the Gathering and that was when we knew.”

  Chapter Five

  Six Years Ago: The Great Family Gathering, Innesford, Cornwall. October 1861

  Jack had less distance to travel to Cornwall from Cambridge, so he was already there when Jenny and her family arrived in the big Truro charabanc.

  Corcoran and his staff streamed out of the house to carry trunks and help down ladies. The younger children jumped down and mingled with those already in the big manor house and ran about the gravel, shouting in high, excited voices. The horses snorted and stamped while adults stretched and eased travel aches.

  Jenny thanked Travers for his assistance down to the ground, then looked toward the big front door of the house and the broad steps up to it.

  Jack was there, as she had known he would be. He stood with his
shoulder against the door. It was meant to be an indolent pose, yet she could see the fine tension in his shoulders and eyes.

  There among the family members, standing upon gravel in broad daylight, while children called and trunks clattered unmusically from the back of the charabanc, Jenny felt as though she was enclosed in a bubble of silence, while truth whispered through her.

  Jack. She loved him, with a power that might have scared her but for the heavenly peace the knowledge gave her. Of course, it was Jack she must love. He was family, dear and familiar. He knew her better than any other soul on earth.

  Happiness lifted inside her, raising her chest and shoulders and making her smile.

  She loved Jack. How wonderful!

  The knowledge kept her warm, just as Jack’s arms would when he held her. Jenny moved through the tiresome greetings and conversations with everyone in the big drawing room with the tall windows looking out upon the sea.

  She could feel Jack watching her.

  Only, it was past two o’clock before Jenny could extricate herself from the whist game at the round table and slip out of the house. She didn’t bother looking to see if Jack noticed. She knew he would see her leave.

  Jenny hurried around the house to the east garden and the maze. She knew the maze thoroughly, for she had grown up chasing her cousins and siblings through the green corridors. She made her way by the most direct route to the heart of the maze and settled on the stone bench to wait for Jack.

  He was only minutes behind her. He appeared around the last turn into the center, moving silently. He settled beside her and kissed her.

  It was the first kiss he’d given her since he had gone back to Cambridge in September. Jenny wrapped her arms around his strong neck and let herself sink into the perfect pleasure of the kiss, her body stirring as it always did.

  When they were breathless with wanting, Jack let her go just enough to draw back and study her. He stroked her face. “I love you,” he said quietly. “I realized when I saw you arrive. It all shifted into focus just in that moment.”

  Jenny laughed with pure happiness. “Oh, Jack, I love you, too. I realized it at the same moment. It is as though your going away has made us both see the truth.”

  He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “I have always known you were beautiful. Now, every woman pales next to you, while you are surrounded by clear light. It is the strangest thing.” He gave a soft laugh. “I always thought the poets were mad, that love couldn’t affect a man so, yet now I understand what they have been trying to tell me for years.” He kissed her again and Jenny found herself on his lap. His lips moved everywhere while his hands held her steady. She relaxed, trusting him completely, and enjoyed the sensations.

  Until, with a groan, he lifted her back onto the stone bench and took his hands from her waist with deep reluctance. He put his palms on his knees, anchoring them there. “There is much more I would like to do with you.”

  “But you want to wait,” Jenny finished.

  He nodded. “For when we are married. Do you mind?” He glanced at her, his mouth lifting. “Your kisses are the sweetest, the most perfect kisses I’ve ever experienced. They drive me to madness…I could easily forget myself when we’re together and that is why I must wait.”

  “You want to start out right,” Jenny said. “You don’t want to spoil it.”

  His brow lifted. “Yes. You understand. I knew you would.” He pressed his lips to hers, then swayed back, as if he was removing the temptation once more.

  “It isn’t simply understanding,” Jenny told him. “I feel the same way. We grew up in the same house, virtually brother and sister. To do anything now would feel…odd. If we wait until we are married, then we will be husband and wife and then it will be…”

  “Perfect,” he breathed. Then he laughed again. It was a carefree sound. Jenny didn’t think she had heard Jack ever sound so joyful and her heart swelled.

  Jack squeezed her hand. “I suppose I should ask you, shouldn’t I? To marry me, I mean.”

  Jenny shook her head. “Questions are for people who are uncertain what the answer might be. You and I are certain. Why bother asking a question when you know the answer?” She rested her head on his shoulder. “This is the happiest moment of my life, Jack.”

  He held her against him and she listened to his heart. “I am only sorry it took me so long to see the truth.” He kissed her forehead. “When there is a quiet moment, I will talk to Mama Elisa and Vaughn.”

  Jenny sat up. “Must you? I mean, right now?”

  “You don’t want me to?”

  Jenny rested her hand against his chest. A little thrill ran through her when she realized she would be able to do that whenever she wanted, from now on. “I do want you to speak to them, only not right now.” She saw the fine line forming between his brow and picked up his hand and held it. “We both realized the truth here, in Cornwall, with the family around us. It wasn’t in a stuffy drawing room in London surrounded by strangers. Maybe that is why it happened here and not London. You don’t like the Season any more than I do. Here, with the family, we are both happier.”

  “We know and trust everyone here,” Jack added.

  “Yes. You understand.” She gave his hand a little shake. “I want to keep this perfect moment between us for a while. Just for the two of us, with no one asking questions or demanding explanations. I want to…to keep it pure for a while.”

  Jack’s frown was fully formed, yet there was understanding in his eyes, all the same. “I don’t know that I can wait for long,” he warned her.

  “Can you wait until April, Jack? That is only a few months and you have work in Lincolnshire in February. What if we wait until your work is done? Then you can speak to Mama and Father and save me from the agony of the Season and having to meet all those eligible bachelors. Now that Sharla is married, there is no one to deflect their interest. While Sharla was standing next to me, none of them noticed me.”

  “They’re all fools, then,” Jack said roughly. “Very well, I will happily save you from the inconvenience. The day you arrive in London, yes?”

  “Yes. Oh, yes, Jack—that is the perfect time!” Jenny wound her arms around his neck again. “Now, kiss me again. Then we should return before anyone misses us.”

  “I will kiss you only if you promise to meet me later. After dinner.”

  “Where?”

  “Here.” He looked around at the green, growing walls surrounding them. “The truth at the center of the puzzle.”

  * * * * *

  Present day: The Wardell house, Grosvenor Square, London. February 1867. The next day.

  Jack stayed behind the big desk, which was covered in structural diagrams from a recent project, and watched Will and Peter greet Cian and Neil. He didn’t have the energy to join them as he normally would.

  It was strange to see Cian here in London. The man had been hiding out in Cornwall for well over a year. There had been questions in Whitehall about his disappearance. As his father’s representative, Jack attended parliamentary sessions and had heard all the rumors and speculation about Cian’s troubles. None of them had come close to the truth.

  Peter had his full height now. He was a good six feet, although he was wiry and lean. Neil looked rather fine in his uniform, which made the most of his shoulders and dark Celtic features, although there was a sadness around his eyes and his movements were no longer buoyant and energetic.

  Will had mentioned that Neil and Alice had an understanding. Alice’s passing would explain Neil’s listlessness.

  While Will poured brandy for everyone, Cian, Neil and Peter pulled the chairs around the desk, into a tight group better suited for talking. Will put the decanter on the front edge of the desk, shoving the diagrams out of the way.

  “Careful,” Jack told him, and rolled a few up to better clear the space.

  Peter rested the ankle of one long leg over the other knee. “Why are you in London, Cian?” he asked, swirling his brandy.
“I didn’t think anything short of gun powder would stir you.”

  Cian didn’t bridle at the direct question. He gave a small shrug. “I brought Neil up to see Mother and Raymond. Although, the timing might have been better. Now, with all this bother about Jenny in the papers…”

  Jack’s gut clenched. He had combed every newspaper available this morning, looking for reports about the divorce. There had been some, yet no one had named the other party yet. Jack held a slender hope that Burscough was fabricating the accusation and would name someone else entirely. Until Jack saw his name in Times Roman font, he could pretend that the anvil waiting to fall upon him was not there.

  None of the men in the room looked at Jack when Cian mentioned the divorce.

  Jack drained his glass in a convulsive swallow and reached for the decanter. The conversation had already moved on and he picked up the threads.

  “…always considered the man capable of such a public display of disdain,” Will said. “After that affair at the club—”

  “Wait,” Jack said, sitting up. “What affair? Involving Burscough?”

  Will snorted. “You were there, man. Don’t you remember?”

  “Remind me,” Jack said.

  Cian rolled his eyes. “Even I remember that. 1862, yes, Will?”

  “Sixty-one,” Will said. “Burscough had just inherited, I believe. He still carried the tan from India. They let him into the club because he was a newly minted duke, although I think it curled the mustaches of the membership judges to do so. I suppose Burscough lived up to his lack of promise.”

  Jack frowned. He couldn’t remember a single thing involving Burscough at the Garrick.

  Will shook his head. “Clearly, you don’t remember when I was forced to announce to the membership that he’d failed to meet his debt to me?”

  “They revoked his membership after that,” Cian added.

  Jack sat back. “That, I remember.” Being expelled from a club was the height of social disaster and everyone had talked about it for weeks. “I didn’t know it was Burscough, though.” He hid the bubble of fury that rose in his chest. This was the man Jenny had married? Bad enough that he was putting her through the humiliation of a public divorce. Now, it appeared his own character was questionable.