“He did not tell you?” Was she simply being coy? Why else would a gentleman wish to speak with a lady’s father? “As we have been courting, I assumed you wish to marry me.”
Good God, no! He almost blurted out. “It wasn’t officially a courtship, and a gentleman must get a father’s permission.”
“My brother has given permission.”
“He is still not your father.”
“He acts for my father when he is not present. I see no hindrance to your plan.”
They stopped and turned to face one another.
“I was mistaken, Lady Jillian.” Noah paused and searched for the correct words. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t let her assumption continue. It was best to be forthright. “We will not suit.”
Her fingers dug into his arm. “I believe we will.”
Noah glanced down at her hand. How could he have thought she was kind and sweet? How could he have been so gullible in believing she would make a fine wife? Someone he could live with? Why would she want him when she could have anyone she wished? “I disagree. Shall we return to the manor?”
“Not just yet.” She moved to stand in front of him. “I have chosen you to marry.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her audacity. Did she think it was that simple? “Do you always get what you want?”
A smile pulled at her lips. “Of course I do.”
Her father was a duke, and apparently Lady Jillian had been spoiled her entire life. It was another reason he did not wish to pursue her any longer. He anticipated spoiling his wife, but he also wanted someone who would appreciate the attention whereas Lady Jillian would expect it. “You will not in this case.”
“Once I tell father how you kissed me when no one else was around, he may force the issue.”
Noah bit back a laugh. “We no longer live in an age where a kiss is considered compromising a lady.” At least not the kind of kiss he had given her.
She frowned up at him. Her icy blue eyes narrowed as if calculating a decision. “This is because of her, isn’t it?”
He knew she spoke of Rosalind, but Noah wasn’t going to admit to anything. “Whom do you speak of?”
The corners of her mouth tilted, and she slightly shook her head. “Miss Valentine, as you very well know. She is the one you want.”
“I’ve known Miss Valentine for many years, and she has nothing to do with my decision to not court you.” There was some truth in the statement. Even if Rosalind was not here, Noah would have misgivings over his pursuit of Lady Jillian now that he had come to know her better and especially after the uninspired, cold kiss they shared.
Lady Jillian tilted her head and studied him. “How well do you know her?” Her eyes narrowed and she leaned in. “Do you know her family secrets?”
No, though he suspected there were a few. “There are none,” he insisted.
Lady Jillian chuckled. “Oh, yes there are.” She linked her arm with his and pulled Noah along the path. “I will share them with you and then you can decide if you really wish to pursue Miss Valentine. She is not who she says she is.”
Though Noah wished to be away from Lady Jillian, he wanted to hear what supposed secrets she thought she knew. He needed to be prepared in the event Lady Jillian was going to set about trying to ruin Rosalind.
Lady Jillian’s eyes gleamed in anticipation. “My father had a cousin from his mother’s side, so she was really of no consequence, who had made a poor choice.”
Noah narrowed his eyes. What did this have to do with Rosalind and her family?
“She foolishly fell in love with a stable hand and thought to marry him.”
“I don’t understand what your family history has to do with the Valentines.”
“I am getting to that.” She patted his arm in a condescending matter. “My father’s cousin ran off with this man which resulted in her being cut off from the entire family.”
Noah gritted his teeth wishing Lady Jillian would hurry on with her story while fearing where it would lead.
“The two of them settled in St. Giles because it was all they could afford, and he found a position with the mews in Covent Garden.”
Noah kept a vague look of interest on his face even though his pulse increased. Once when Demetrius was deep in his cups, he had admitted his father was never a missionary but never elaborated on this comment, and Noah didn’t ask. Thankfully, it was only said to him.
“From what I understand, the stable hand had assumed that once the family realized that my father’s cousin was in love, they would make their situation easier, but that was not the case.”
It rarely was Noah thought to himself.
“The man became difficult to live with, drank heavily, and kept his wife with child so she would not leave him.”
A sickness tightened within Noah’s stomach. The Valentine children were born barely a year apart.
“The two of them had three children, and my father’s cousin was expecting her fourth when her husband, drunk one evening, stepped in front of a hackney and was killed.”
Noah stopped and looked at Lady Jillian. Perhaps she wasn’t speaking of the Valentines since there were ten children in all.
“My father’s cousin had ten children in all, which means the remaining six’s parentage is somewhat questionable.”
Noah’s throat tightened. Did Rosalind even know who her father was?
“One day Vicar Grant was visiting a parish priest in St. Giles when a young boy tried to lift his purse. Instead of calling the authorities as he should have, the Vicar made the lad take him to his house so he could have a word with the parents.” She chuckled. “I am assuming Vicar Grant is still as naïve as he was then.”
Noah watched her with narrowed eyes. Though no names were mentioned, he suspected the pickpocket was Demetrius.
“Vicar Grant was aghast to find ten children, one barely a month old and screaming, living in filth.” Lady Jillian glanced up at him with disgust. “Apparently the mother, my father’s cousin,” she reminded him, “had died shortly after the infant’s arrival and was buried in some pauper’s grave. A lady who lived in the building helped feed the newborn, but nobody else would see to the others. They were all too poor, of course, so the boys took to thieving.”
At the mention of ten children, Noah knew for certain she was speaking of the Valentine children.
“They were no more than animals, yet when Vicar Grant discovered the letters the mother was writing to my father and others in the family, he thought to gather the children up and deliver them to father.” She cringed and turned to Noah. “At the time, Vicar Grant was assigned to our parish”.
“What did His Grace do?” Noah asked quietly.
“He arranged for Vicar Grant to find a new post and insisted he keep the children since he was the one who plucked them out of St. Giles without inquiring if anyone wanted the brats.” She linked her arm with Noah’s, and they continued to stroll. “I am not sure how the agreement came about as it has never been discussed with me, but my father has since been supporting the family. He arranged for the boys to be educated so long as nobody ever learns who their mother was and Vicar Grant never tells of their connection to my family.”
She turned onto a path leading into the woods. Noah was not about to move out of sight of the manor, and he resisted her pull and continued along the tree line.
“Vicar Grant and his wife were unable to have children of their own, so my father thought it a perfect solution and helped him create the story of where they came from, even giving them new names.”
Noah’s mind reeled from this information. “New names?” Had Rosalind not always been Rosalind.
Lady Jillian stopped again. “Of course. The children who were old enough to speak didn’t even know what their surname was.” She continued on the path slowly meandering away from the house. “We know the three oldest, and possibly the fourth, had the surname of Jones, but it is anyone’s guess who fathered the remaining children.�
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Noah’s gut churned with disgust. Not at the information he was receiving but in how Lady Jillian perceived the situation and looked down on those who she knew nothing about. Lady Jillian had probably never known a hardship in her life. Neither had Noah, but he was well aware that there were those in the world who lived in dire conditions. He didn’t feel any animosity toward them just sympathy for their lot in life and the cruel blow of fate. “Vicar Grant has always claimed they were the children from the deceased sister and brother-in-law of his wife who did perish in India many years ago.”
Lady Jillian smiled sadly. “There was such a couple, but their children perished along with their parents.”
“Was their surname at least Valentine?” Noah asked dryly. What kind of a tale was she weaving because he knew for a fact that Mrs. Grant had a sister who married a missionary by the name of Valentine before the two traveled to India? If Lady Jillian claimed differently, then he knew he could not believe anything else she said.
“Oh, yes, of course. Such a fact would be too easy to check.”
“Yet finding the facts to prove or disprove their children did not survive is not?”
“They were killed in an uprising. From what I understand, it was difficult to tell who was who.” She grimaced. “As there were children among the victims and no children came forward later claiming to be a Valentine, it is assumed they died. But, it could never be proven either because of the conditions in which the victims were found.”
Noah nodded. Vicar Grant could simply explain that the children had been rescued and brought to him, and it would easily be accepted.
“The youngest, Perdita, was too young to have been born in India and travel to England which was a concern for the Vicar and another reason Papa arranged for him be move to a different town.” She glanced up at him. “The one where you live though I didn’t know the two were one in the same until recently.”
“You said the names were changed?” Noah prompted. “Or only the surname added?”
She sighed. “They were given new first names. The vicar and his wife love Shakespeare.”
“I know,” Noah ground out while his mind reeled with this revelation. None of the Valentine children had been to India but were born and raised in St. Giles, the cesspool of London.
“Then it isn’t lost on you that all of them are named from characters in a Shakespearian play?”
Noah already knew this. The Vicar and his wife had claimed it was her sister and husband who loved Shakespeare. Though one would think a missionary or vicar would have given their children Biblical names.
“Demp became Demetrius; Benny became Benedick, Ollie became Orlando, Mervin became Mercutio, Petey became Petrucio, Rosey became Rosalind, Izzy became Isabelle, Bea became Bianca, Bert became Bertram, and Poppy became Perdita.”
Noah simply stared at her. She knew all of their names and said them in birth order. He had also heard the siblings call each other by those names when they were children and first arrived. Noah always assumed they were simply nicknames not their birth name.
He shook his head trying to clear his thoughts. Lady Jillian knew far more about the family than he did and probably more than they wished anyone to know. “Did your father tell you all of this?”
She chuckled. “Goodness, no! I found papers hidden away this past summer and made it my business to know.” She sobered. “It never hurts to have information about others in the event it may be needed in the future.”
A chill ran down his spine. “How so?”
She stepped closer fingering his cravat. “I know you care about the family even though they are far beneath you.” Her eyes met his. “It is simple. I have chosen you as my husband. If you do not agree, I will share what I know with society.” She pulled back and strolled away. “How would Demetrius’s career as a Barrister fair if everyone learned that he had lied about who he is and where he had come from?” She wheeled around. “Or Benedick. He once lived amongst thieves and cutthroats and survived as a pickpocket. Will others wonder if he has changed?” A cold smile came to her lips. “And what about your precious Rosalind? Once everyone learns, they will never believe she didn’t attempt to seduce Thorn to better herself. Her mother had been a whore after all.”
Had Lady Jillian been a man, Noah would call her out. “You would risk a miserable marriage by blackmail?”
“Of course,” she shrugged. “I always get what I want. I want you and in time, you will come to care for me.”
The only emotion Noah would ever feel for Lady Jillian was loathing. “I can assure you, there will never be anything but animosity between us.”
She shrugged again. “It really doesn’t matter.”
“You would truly ruin an entire family? A family that has done nothing to harm you to get what you want?”
She stepped forward. “They don’t belong here. They don’t belong in society or associating with people like us.”
“I beg to differ,” he ground out. “What exactly do you have against those not born of privilege? It isn’t as if they can harm you.”
Lady Jillian stepped forward her face pinched in anger. “You can never trust anyone not born to privilege and the sooner you learn that lesson, the better off you will be.”
Noah was slightly taken aback by her vehement response. Was this her mother’s teaching or something else?
“Either you agree to a betrothal or Rosalind’s secrets will be known,” she said in a sickly sweet tone with a smile to match.
Noah couldn’t remember being this livid with anyone in his life. “Does your brother know what you do, about the Valentines?”
“I don’t believe so. If he did, I doubt he would care.”
Broadridge spent many hours arguing for fair pay and better treatment of the poor. “He would care if you ruined an entire family,” Noah pointed out.
“He may, but he wouldn’t do anything about it.”
In that, she spoke the truth. Broadridge would stand by his sister.
“Are we in agreement?”
He glared at her. He couldn’t make a decision right now. This was something he needed to think long and hard on. “Give me until tomorrow.”
“We leave at eleven in the morning. I will have your answer by ten thirty. If not, a letter will be sent to the papers upon my return to London.” With that, she turned and began marching toward the manor only to turn and come back to him. “By the way, if you wish to keep Rosalind as your mistress, I certainly wouldn’t mind.”
“I would never be so disrespectful.”
She chuckled. “That is sweet of you, but my feelings would not be hurt.”
“You are mistaken. It is Rosalind I would never dishonor in such a manner.”
She straightened as if affronted then shrugged. “I’ll speak with you on the morrow.” She turned once again and walked back toward the house. Noah watched until she was out of sight. “Bloody hell.”
He wasn’t ready to return to the house. The guests were gathered in the morning room, and Rosalind would be waiting.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered again and thrust his fingers through his hair and turned in the opposite direction. Demetrius emerged a few steps beyond and stopped.
“How much did you hear?” How long had he been sanding there, and why hadn’t he known the man was present.
“Everything,” Demetrius bit out.
“Is it true?” Noah needed to know if anything Lady Jillian had said was a lie. Not that it mattered where his feelings for Rosalind were concerned. It didn’t matter what her name was or where she was born. What mattered was the woman she was today and how much she had come to mean to him.
“Yes,” Demetrius answered flatly.
Noah simple stared at him. “Then I really have no choice.”
Demetrius took another step forward. “That would depend on the choice and the reason.”
Noah pushed his fingers through his hair. This was so bloody frustrating. “I must marry Lady Jillian.”
Demetrius’ jaw tightened. “Because my sister’s background lacks even more than you realized?”
Noah’s head jerked up. “How can you even suggest such a thing? I lo…” he stopped himself before he confessed to something he had no right to admit and hadn’t even realized until this moment. Yes, he was in love with Rosalind Valentine, or Rosey, or whoever she was. It didn’t matter because he loved her. But, he could never voice his emotions if he were to marry another woman.
Demetrius gave him a half smile. “I am glad to know my sister’s feelings are returned.”
Surely he wasn’t suggesting…“I suspected Rosalind may care for me.” How could she not after the embraces they had shared. But he wasn’t as certain that she loved him.
“Are you blind?” Demetrius demanded and laughed. “Rosalind has been in love with you since she was fifteen.”
Hope bloomed quickly followed by despair. It didn’t really matter. They could never be. “She told you this?”
“No,” Demetrius chuckled. “Rosalind will never admit to love, but she has admitted an infatuation, and only to me, and she always knew the match would be impossible.”
Noah narrowed his eyes. “Then how do you know she feels anything?”
“She admitted it the other day when I questioned her.” Demetrius shrugged. “Even if we hadn’t had the conversation, it is in her face when anyone mentions your name or she speaks with you.”
Perhaps Demetrius was reading into something that wasn’t there. Why hadn’t she said anything last night when they were in the orangery? He had said he wished to visit with her and she simply agreed that she would welcome his visit. That was not the reaction of a woman who had deeper feelings. It was one who was flattered only. “Why has she never given any indication?”
Demetrius shook his head and looked at Noah as if he were an idiot. “She, all of us, know you are above her reach. She knows her place.”
“But that is not true,” Noah insisted.
“Yet, you will marry another.”
“To protect her,” Noah argued. “If it were only you, or Benedick, I would not give into Lady Jillian’s blackmail.”
His Christmas Match (A Gentleman's Guide to Once Upon a Time) Page 20