by Lynda Hurst
Gripping Jackson’s arm firmly, Mary had stated, “I fear Father knows his time is near. I think that’s why we are meeting tomorrow morning for a formal breakfast. His solicitor will be present tomorrow as well.”
Jackson had felt the blood drain from his face that same moment. He had known his father’s condition was worsening, but not to the point where they would have to make provisions in the event of his passing this very moment. Both his and Mary’s refusal to accept that their father was dying had the both of them ill-prepared to handle the reality of it all.
With Mary sobbing softly, his mind still dwelling on their father’s poor health, he had felt as though his body was moving on its own as he rose from his seat to gather Mary in his arms, providing comfort to his twin.
Having to worry over his family made for an unpleasant rest of the evening. With the rest of the household quiet and ensconced in their beds, Jackson could not find solace in sleep. His mind had raced frantically, troubled by what the morning may bring and by what his sister had said about their father’s condition.
Tossing and turning as he did, he had tried to turn his thoughts to more pleasant ones in the effort to calm his mind. And was surprised to learn that thoughts of his afternoon with Margaret was extraordinarily effective in providing him a measure of peace. Reflecting on her reactions to today’s discoveries had reminded him of her open and honest emotions.
It wasn’t until he had remembered her look of sadness from earlier that he hadn’t before considered how conflicted the woman made him feel. He had been so sure he knew what his future held for him, so certain of his place in this world and who would be beside him for years to come. But with his father’s failing health, the pressure to place duty above his own desires weighed heavy on him as it was something his father would definitely expect of him; especially now that he recognized that Margaret captured and held his interest.
Awareness of the woman was always at the forefront of his mind whenever she was near, and it was doubtful that she knew the pull she had on him. With thoughts of her running rampant, he had been able to drift into sleep with ease.
The arrival of the bright morning saw Jackson tired and anxious about the inevitable announcement at breakfast. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he attempted to further rouse himself with a hand swiping up and down his face, coaxing his blood supply to do what his mind could not.
His valet, Castor, was on hand to help him dress for the day in a fresh shirt and trousers, and as a final touch, helped him shrug on a morning coat before he headed downstairs.
Surprisingly, he found his father and mother already seated at the breakfast table with their solicitor, but Mary still had yet to arrive as her seat was still empty. Bidding everyone present a ‘good morning’ he thought it best to hold his questions for after his sister arrived. Fixing himself a plate from the laden sideboard of various breakfast dishes, he summarily seated himself across from his mother, just as Mary breezed through the dining room door.
He watched as she kissed their father and mother ‘good morning’ on each of their cheeks and swiftly turned to grab a piece of toast from the sideboard to bring with her to the table. Chaucer poured everyone a cup of coffee and served it to each individual seated at the table.
Like his sister, his appetite wasn’t at its usual strength as they anxiously awaited what it was their father was about to reveal.
Bringing the rich cup of coffee to his lips, Jackson sipped lightly as the earl finally addressed them all. “It’s no secret that my health isn’t what it once was, and it is for that reason I’ve brought you together with my solicitor present.” Lord Anthony waved to indicate Mr. Bellamy with whom everyone was familiar.
He continued, addressing Jackson, “With careful thought and expedited motions to bring this about, I’ve decided to retire my position in the House of Lords. With the help of Mr. Bellamy, we have been able to speed up the process involving a writ of acceleration for you, my boy.”
Before Jackson could utter a reply, Mary replied for him as was her way since they were children, “Writ of acceleration? What does that mean?”
Lady Diana, their mother, scolded, “Mary! Your father would have explained in due time if you would just hold your tongue for a moment longer.” Properly chastised, Mary mumbled an apology and pursed her lips as if the action would actually curb her lively tongue.
Continuing, Lord Anthony said, “It means that Jackson will be assuming my seat in Parliament as one of my lesser titles, Baron Osborne of Ellesmere, until such a time comes, upon my expiration, when he will succeed me for my earldom.”
Both Jackson and Mary heaved twin sighs of relief upon learning that their father’s announcement wasn’t as dire as they originally expected. As Jackson watched, his mother lovingly laid a hand on her husband’s outstretched one upon the table; the look she bestowed on their father, tender and a little proud.
If there was anyone in their family who felt their father’s mortality more sharply, Jackson was sure his mother felt it more keenly than anyone else, as the pair of them were everything to each other. A love like theirs that transcended anything he’d ever experienced had him in awe every time he witnessed them together. Watching them now, he felt a little lacking for never having known something as powerful as what his parents had for each other.
Mary, in all of her outspoken glory, proclaimed, “I do believe I’ve recovered my appetite!” Without further hesitation, she jumped from her seat to fetch a few more breakfast items to add to her mostly empty plate. Rolling his eyes at his sister’s childish display, he knew his twin was cleverly disguising her true emotional state by leaving the table and having her back turned towards them. Without that mask, she would most likely have broken down unbecomingly in front of him, their parents, and Mr. Bellamy.
Turning to his father, Jackson said, “I know it must be hard for you to relinquish your parliamentary duties, Father, given your passion for the people under our care. Without your hard work, our crofters and farmers would not have received an increase in their income from the bill you’ve put into motion.” Lord Anthony was an advocate of taking good care of the people who depended upon him, to the point of actively seeking out fair prices for their crops with his bill.
Lord Anthony smiled and said, “A legacy I now entrust to you, my boy. With this frail body of mine, I can no longer attend to my regular duties. So, I trust that you will be Earl of Ellesmere in everything but in name.” Lady Diana then cast a sad smile at her husband, who patted her hand comfortingly, knowing he was the reason for the look on her beloved face.
Jackson inwardly sighed; taking over for his father was something he had been groomed for his whole life. Only, it bore some heavy thought that he was suddenly thrust into the position so prematurely. But with his father so frail and unable to physically do more than rise out of his bed with help, Jackson resigned himself to succeeding his father in every area except the title.
“Oh, and I have one more matter to discuss,” Lord Anthony continued. “I know I’m most likely not long for this world, but I confess that it would set my mind at ease if I knew my children were happily settled.”
Glancing at his twin, he watched as Mary stopped mid-chew, as a look of horror descended upon her face when it dawned on her what their father referred to. She promptly chewed a little quicker than usual, swallowed audibly, and opened her mouth to protest, “But Father! I’m not yet ready to settle down in addition to the fact that there hasn’t yet been a gentleman who I feel measures up to my standards.”
Sternly, their father rebutted, “Then your standards have been too high for far too long. Do you think I would go peacefully to my grave knowing my only daughter isn’t provided for?”
Stubborn to a fault, Mary cried, “I am perfectly content to stay with you as a dutiful daughter and a loving sister to Jackson. It’s not my fault none of the gentlemen I’ve encountered haven’t measured up.”
“And what of your brother?” Lady
Diana countered. “If he were to find a wife, do you think his bride would enjoy having his spinster sister hanging about?”
Looking down at her hands, hiding her embarrassment at the picture their mother had painted, Mary uttered softly, “I haven’t given that possibility much thought. I suppose that when Jackson eventually brings home a wife, I shall make myself scarce and probably venture out and see the world.”
Lord Anthony, who had been an indulgent father thus far, decided that this would be the day he would put his foot down. “Over my dead body! There will be no gallivanting the globe for you until I can be certain that you are settled! I can still see to it that there will be no funds forthcoming for such a venture!”
As soon as the last word left his lips, Lord Anthony was suddenly overcome by a fit of wracking coughs that soon left him breathless and weak, causing him to slump back into the cushions of his wheeled chair. Lady Diana, her heart in her throat for her beloved husband, had risen to her feet to soothe him by rubbing his back through the worst of it. The look their mother directed at Mary was one of chastisement, and Mary felt terrible for upsetting her father so.
Making their excuses to Mr. Bellamy, Lady Diana readied her husband to be wheeled back to his bedchamber, but not before she cast both of her children a stern glance. “Your father will need to recover from the morning’s excitement,” she said. “Before you come up with any more excuses why you can’t be married, consider this: we just want you to find the kind of happiness your father and I share with the spouse meant for you. That’s all we ask.”
With both twins speechless, Lady Diana exited the dining room with their father.
With a spouse meant for him? Jackson was once sure he knew who would have been his future wife until his mother and father showed him today what he wanted in his own marriage. A love like theirs was fragile yet tested strong against his father’s continued illness. If he could have even a tenth of what his parents have, he would be more than content.
What was once resolve in his choice for a wife, he was now conflicted since their father’s both simple and almost impossible request. It used to be very clear to him that Lady Celia would make him the perfect wife, but he had long since admitted to himself that another woman had almost completely seized his interest. However, Faith had already mailed out her invitations for her Prestonridge Manor party in a few weeks, and his family had received theirs just yesterday, and thus, it was too late to rescind Lady Celia’s invitation.
Fortunately, he had made no promises to Lady Celia and he knew there would be no misery involved on her part if he chose not to ask for her hand in marriage. Given her pretty looks and demure mien, he was sure she would move on easily to the next candidate.
As for Mary, who was still ill at ease since their parents left the room, he wasn’t sure what, if any, marriage prospects were in his sister’s future, and decided he should ask.
“I suppose we must seriously consider what Father has asked of us. Have you anyone in mind that will help you in that score?” Jackson asked tentatively.
Somewhat back to her usual self, she scoffed, “Instead of worrying about me, what about you? Is Lady Celia still a candidate?”
Vaguely, he replied, “Perhaps. I hope to be more certain around the time of Faith’s house party.”
With her nose in the air, Mary declared, “Then I, too, shall have someone Father cannot complain about for the same time you’ve specified.”
Recognizing the mischievous gleam in her eye, Jackson already knew his sister was up to something that would have them all groaning once she eventually revealed whatever scheme she was arranging.
12
The Same Day—Prestonridge Townhouse
Upon rousing that morning, Margaret mentally sped through her plans for the day and was momentarily surprised when her maid, Janet, came knocking to announce a visitor for her, awaiting in the parlor.
“Who is it, Janet?” Margaret asked, curious to hear who would come calling this early when she was sure everyone in the house was still abed. It was just past eight in the morning, and as Devlin and Faith had been visiting the Havershams late last night, it was doubtful either of them would be up and about.
“It’s Lord Collingwood, milady. He insisted he would wait if you haven’t yet risen, but I see you’re fully dressed and ready. Shall I tell him you will be down presently?”
“Yes, of course. Tell him I’ll be just a moment.”
Janet bobbed her head in acknowledgment and closed Margaret’s door before relaying the message to Lord Collingwood.
With Janet gone, Margaret cast the ceiling a look of astonishment and forcefully blew out a big, but slow breath. In all of the excitement since they’d arrived in London, she hadn’t given Jeffrey much thought. She was over the moon that they were closer to finding the next Revelstoke treasure piece and had a grand time the night before, regaling Faith and Devlin with her latest discovery. In light of her exuberance of late, it felt odd that she was more excited about her day’s plans than she was at the thought of meeting with the man who wanted to marry her. Was it awful of her that she wished him anywhere but here?
To be fair to the poor man, he deserved to be properly received and welcomed while here, and feigning a headache now wouldn’t do her any favors since she planned to later run her errands for the day. In addition, she feared being caught in her own lie if she were to later run into Jeffrey while doing said errands.
With a smile pasted on her face as her way of drawing up from her personal store of cheer and happiness, she felt it was time to meet with her current suitor and made her way downstairs.
Reaching the parlor, she noted that Hugo must have gotten to Jeffrey first and had left a full tea service available for him with a few scones on a plate. Margaret eyed the scones hungrily, realizing belatedly she hadn’t yet had her breakfast. Jeffrey’s back was turned, but he quickly turned when he heard her approaching.
“Ah, good morning,” Jeffrey intoned happily, swiftly making his way to take her hand in greeting, and dropping a kiss upon the back of it. As he looked up at her from her hand, it pleased Margaret to see how pleasant it was to look into his smiling eyes, the corners crinkled in merriment.
“Good morning, Jeffrey,” she said, answering his smile with one of her own. It was never a hardship to be so at ease with this man; his smiles were always forthcoming, his manner, very agreeable. No one could say that there was anything off-putting about him, he was so good-natured.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” she asked amiably.
Smiling even wider, Jeffrey turned to the sofa he must have occupied earlier, picked up a rather large bouquet of fresh cut flowers, and presented them to her. “For you, my dear,” he said.
Recognizing her favorites in the selection as she absolutely adored lilies, she received them with a grateful smile. “Oh! Jeffrey, they’re lovely! Thank you!” She reached up to kiss his cheek in thanks, and he beamed at having obviously pleased her. “I’ll have Hugo put them in water.”
Just to prove his efficiency, Hugo, who must have been within hearing distance, appeared silently and retrieved the aromatic bouquet to do just that. Margaret, though not outwardly surprised at Hugo’s near-supernatural ability to know when he was needed, nodded at the longtime servant, and thanked him before he left the pair alone.
In other circumstances, Margaret would observe proper social protocol when it came to being alone with a man. However, Jeffrey was a genial soul who would never think to compromise her reputation as he strictly adhered to a code of moral conduct that, in retrospect, had everything to do with preserving his father’s name.
He began with a hopeful smile, “Even with your express wishes in mind, I’ve come to persuade you to reconsider a much sooner meeting with your brother. I know we’ve discussed the matter extensively, and you’ve given me an approximate schedule, but I find myself anticipating a different answer each time I ask.”
For Margaret, there was no tell
ing what, judging by his open expression, his true motive was for wanting to press the matter further. More than once, she had explained her need for more time and why. It was unnerving to find him deviating from his usual easygoing manner.
“Jeffrey,” she said with forced patience evident in her tone, “we’ve discussed this. I’m flattered that you find it urgent to marry me. But I’ve already given you a deadline for my answer. And that’s not until the house party at Prestonridge Manor later this summer.”
He sighed, “If I had it my way, I’d give you all the time you needed for your answer. However, it’s my father who is adamant about seeing me fully settled. It’s more a matter of giving him peace of mind more than seeing to your level of comfort, or for that matter, mine.”