As soon as she was gone, Jarret said, “It’s good to see you, George, but where’s your family?”
“In Burton.” The lad’s chin trembled, as if he were holding himself together only with great effort. “I came to London alone. I sneaked out.”
“Good God, lad, are you daft? They must be mad with worry by now.”
He thrust out his lower lip. “They won’t care.” His voice turned bitter. “I’m just a bastard and an embarrassment to the family.”
“Oh, George. I’m sure they didn’t say that to you.”
“No, they didn’t say anything to me. No one ever tells me things. I overheard them talking about it, about how … Aunt Annabel refused your proposal because of me, and I came here straightaway.” A look of desperation shone in his face. “You have to marry her!”
Jarret lifted an eyebrow. “I already proposed marriage, and she refused me, lad.”
“That’s only because she’s embarrassed that people will find out about me. But they won’t, because I’m not going to let her tell anyone. You’re going to marry her and bring her to London, s-so everything can go back to h-how it was before.”
The way the lad stood so stalwart, with his hands balled into fists and his eyes desperate, made something clutch in Jarret’s chest. “I’m sorry, George, but it can never go back to how it was before. You can’t un-drink the water. Even if no one else knows, you will. You won’t be able to put that out of your head.”
“Yes, I will! You have to marry her, so everything can stay the same.” He steadied his bony little shoulders. “If I have to, I’ll make you marry her.”
Jarret blinked. “Oh? And how will you do that?”
“I’ll call you out.”
It took Jarret an immense effort to swallow his laugh. “Using what for a weapon?”
“I-I was hoping you’d have an extra dueling pistol I could borrow.”
“I see. Do you even know how to shoot a pistol?”
George thrust out his chest. “I shot a fowling piece when I went hunting with Grandfather.” A troubled frown touched his brow. “Well, I suppose he’s not really my grandfather since he’s not Aunt Annabel’s father …”
“You see, George?” Jarret said softly. “Things can’t go back to how they were. You know too much now.”
“But I don’t want to know!” he cried. “I d-don’t want to h-have no father and no sisters or brother and n-no grandparents—”
Jarret was at George’s side in an instant, pulling the boy into his arms. “It’s all right, lad. It will be all right, I swear. Not at this moment perhaps, but in time.”
“It’s n-never going to be all right!” George wailed. “I’m a bastard, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“That’s true.” He tugged the boy over to the settee near the window and urged him down onto it, then sat beside him with his arm about his shoulders. “But it doesn’t have to shape your life if you don’t want it to.” The way he’d let his anger and pain over his parents’ deaths shape his life. “And I know that your mother doesn’t care if you’re a bastard.”
“Don’t call her that! She’s not my mother. I won’t let her be my mother.”
“That’s your choice, of course. You can continue to live the lie. But there’s a chance that doing so will hurt her deeply.”
His lower lip trembled. “She ought to be hurt. She lied to me. They all lied to me.”
“Yes. And I can see how that would make you very angry. But they were trying to protect you from people who are stupid and ignorant. They weren’t embarrassed by you. They just didn’t want you to be embarrassed.”
He squeezed the boy. “I know for a fact that your mother loves you very much. Most ladies, when they bear a child outside of marriage, give it away to be raised by someone else. Then they can go on to live their lives as they please, to marry where they please. But she didn’t do that. She gave up the chance of marriage and having a family and home of her own so she could be near you, to see you grow up, to take care of you.”
George swallowed. “I still say she should have told me. Mother and Father should have told me.”
“Yes, they probably should have. But sometimes grown-ups don’t know what to do any better than children. And consider this—most children only have one mother. I lost my mother when I was your age. Do you know how jealous I am of you for having two mothers who dote on you and brag about how clever you are? You’re very lucky.”
George scowled at him.
“I suppose you’re not feeling very lucky right now, but that time will come.”
“Does this mean you’re not going to marry Aunt … my mother?”
Jarret smiled. “How about this? If you’ll forgo the duel by fowling piece, I’ll ask your mother again to marry me. But if she refuses me, there’s not much I can do. You’ll just have to accept her decision. Can you do that?”
“I suppose.” He worried the edge of his coat with his hands. “Does that mean you’re going to take me back to Burton?”
“Actually, I would imagine that your family is already on their way here.”
“They don’t know I came to London. I didn’t leave a note or anything.”
“I daresay that won’t stop them,” he said dryly. “If I know your mother, she has already browbeaten every citizen in Burton to find someone who could tell her where you went.”
George shook his head vigorously. “Toby Mawer won’t tell. I gave him a watch.”
“Toby Mawer … isn’t he the fellow you called your archenemy?”
“Yes.”
“Never trust an archenemy, lad. We’re better off sending an express to Burton to tell them that you’re with me. I’d hate to head there and chance missing them as they came this direction.” He patted the boy’s shoulder. “Besides, I want you to meet my family. Just in case they become your family, too.”
George’s face brightened. “If you marry my … mother, you’d be my father, wouldn’t you?”
“Stepfather, yes. And my brother Gabe, the one who races horses, would be your uncle. Indeed, you’d gain two uncles, two aunts, and a great-grandmother. Not quite as good as a brother and sisters, perhaps, but it would be something.” He cast the boy a sly glance. “Of course, that’s only if you choose to live in London with your mother, and let everyone know that you’re a bastard. I won’t blame you if you don’t want that.”
Leaving George to ponder that, he rose and called for Croft. As soon as the clerk entered, he gave him instructions on sending an express letter to the Lakes in Burton.
Gran strode into the room behind him. “When did you last eat, George?” No doubt she’d been listening at the door and knew everything.
George hunched his shoulders. “A lady on the coach gave me some cake this morning after I ran out of money.”
A tightness gripped Jarret at the thought of Geordie on the coach alone. Anything might have happened to him.
“Why don’t I go get us some pasties from the cook shop on the corner?” Gran said. “That ought to hold the lad until we can get him home for a real dinner.”
“Thank you, Gran.”
After she left, Jarret took a seat behind the desk. “So tell me how you managed the trip to London.” After George related a tale of amazing ingenuity, Jarret shook his head. “You’re quite the clever lad, George Lake. Too clever for your own good, sometimes.” He cast the boy a stern glance. “You do know I’m going to have to punish you for this dangerous excursion. We can’t have you taking such chances again and scaring your family to death.”
“Punish me?” George squeaked.
“That’s what fathers do, isn’t it?”
First confusion, then anger crossed George’s face, but Jarret could see a tiny bit of relief there, too. George was a clever boy, after all. And clever boys wanted someone to rein them in when they did something wrong.
He took George’s silence for consent. “Well then, we’ll have to come up with something suitable. Perhaps a
day helping to muck out the brewery stables might work.”
“Yes, sir,” George said with a bit more enthusiasm than was warranted.
Jarrett hid a smile. George was in for a surprise if he thought he’d find any thoroughbreds in Plumtree’s stables. There were only very large, very dull cart horses who produced a prodigious amount of manure. It would definitely be a punishment George would remember.
“I have a question, sir.”
“Ask away.”
“How do you plan to convince Aunt Annabel … my mother, I mean … to marry you?”
“I have no idea. Any suggestions?”
George frowned, clearly giving the idea serious thought. “You should start by telling her how pretty she looks. Father, I mean, my uncle, always does that when he wants to get around my … my …”
“That’s an excellent idea,” Jarret said gently.
“Tell her she’s clever, too,” Geordie offered. “She’s not like other ladies, you know—she fancies herself as clever, and she gets insulted if you say otherwise.”
That’s because she was clever. Jarret loved that about her.
Loved?
He rolled the idea about in his mind and realized that he meant it. He’d been so busy holding on to an old way of life that didn’t work—had never really worked—that he’d missed the truth staring him in the face.
He loved her. He didn’t want to be without her. It hurt too much to be without her.
He didn’t care about protecting his heart any longer. She was right—some risks were worth taking.
“I suppose it would help to tell her that I love her,” Jarret said.
George screwed up his face. “If you have to. That’s awfully mushy. But I guess ladies like that sort of thing.”
Jarret bit back a smile. “In my experience, they pretty much expect it in a marriage proposal.”
George sighed. “Women are a lot of trouble, aren’t they?”
“Yes.” He stared at the boy he hoped to be raising soon. Funny how the thought didn’t panic him anymore. “But trust me, lad, they’re worth it. They’re definitely worth it.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
The trip to London seemed endless. They made it in seventeen hours, which was nothing short of miraculous. Hugh had spared no expense. With Geordie having several hours’ start on them aboard a mail coach that could go much faster than Hugh’s rig, they’d worried about the amount of time he would be left to his own devices in London.
She nearly wept with relief when their first stop, at the brewery—the only place they knew of that he might go to—yielded the information that Geordie was safe at Mrs. Plumtree’s town house. Mr. Croft even accompanied them there in order to direct them, a kindness for which Annabel couldn’t stop thanking him.
But as they approached the house in fashionable Mayfair, her thoughts turned to another problem. If Geordie knew the truth now, he was bound to be angry. How were they to handle that? What was she to say?
It occurred to her that Jarret might be there, too, that she might get to see him again, but she shoved that thought far down in her mind. She could handle only one looming disaster at a time.
They arrived at Mrs. Plumtree’s town house shortly after ten in the morning, where they were immediately shown into an elegant dining room. There they found Geordie surrounded by Jarret’s family, being pampered and coddled, fed with kippers and eggs and every delicacy the boy loved for breakfast. She recognized Lady Minerva and Lord Gabriel, and assumed that the other young woman was Lady Celia and the elderly woman was Jarret’s grandmother.
Jarret sat beside Geordie, joking about something to do with horses.
Geordie spotted them, and for a moment, joy leaped into his face. Then it faded to a troubled expression that cut her to the heart. Especially when he jerked his gaze to his plate, refusing to look at her.
He knew the truth, all right. She’d lost his trust, and she didn’t know how to get it back.
Jarret rose, his eyes kind as he laid a hand on Geordie’s shoulder. “You see, George, it’s just as I told you. They probably didn’t even see the express I sent. They must have left there long before it arrived. They were worried about you.”
“Terrified, more like,” Annabel choked out.
Geordie just continued to stare into his plate.
She wanted to rush over and haul him into her arms for a bone-crushing hug, but she was afraid that would only make matters worse.
Jarret smoothed over the moment by making introductions. Then he turned to his grandmother and said, “I think we should let the Lakes have a moment alone.”
“I want you to stay, Lord Jarret,” Geordie protested. “If that’s all right with you.”
When Jarret looked to Annabel she nodded. Geordie had always idolized him, and though it hurt that her son would run to Jarret instead of her after hearing the truth, she would accept anything that might make this encounter easier.
Jarret resumed his seat while his family rose and left the room, their eyes full of curiosity as they passed her and Hugh. Hugh squeezed her arm encouragingly as they walked over to sit across from Geordie.
“How did you know I was here?” Geordie asked in a small voice, still not looking at them.
Annabel fought to remain calm. “Toby Mawer tried to sell the watch you gave him, and the shop owner saw the inscription. When Hugh threatened to have Toby arrested, he admitted that you’d gone to London to see ‘some fancy gent.’”
Geordie looked up at Jarret. “You were right, sir. Never trust an archenemy.”
“I don’t think you realize the enormity of what you did, lad,” Hugh said sharply. “You scared your mother and me to death!”
Geordie’s angry gaze shot to Hugh. “Which mother? The one who pretended to be my mother while all of you lied to me? Or the one who actually gave birth to me?”
As Annabel flinched at Geordie’s sharp tone, Hugh let out a low curse, but when he started to speak, she put a hand on his arm.
“Both,” Annabel said. “We were all petrified with fear. I kept imagining you lying in a ditch somewhere, beaten and bleeding and all alone—”
When she broke off with a sob, Geordie looked at her for the first time. “I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have run away.”
She reached across the table for his hand, but he jerked it back. Her heart sank. “I know I’ve hurt you deeply by keeping the truth from you. I should have told you that I was your mother a long time ago. But I was so afraid you—”
Her breath caught in her throat, and she had to swallow before she could go on. “I was afraid you would hate me. That you’d never forgive me for lying to you. And I love you so much that I couldn’t bear to have you hate me.”
His chin began to tremble, and he dropped his gaze to his plate again. “You’re embarrassed by me—all of you. I heard you tell Fa—your brother—that if you married Lord Jarret and took me to London, it would embarrass everyone.”
She vaguely remembered saying something like that, but he was taking it all wrong. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that how it sounded. I was thinking that I had no right to expose Hugh and Sissy to public slander by claiming you as my son.” Her voice shook. “But it wasn’t you whom I was worried would embarrass them. It was me.”
Geordie lifted his gaze to her, looking truly perplexed. “Why?”
“In a situation like this, it’s not the illegitimate child whom people blame; it’s the mother. They see her as … wicked. They see her family as wicked for covering up her indiscretion. I don’t mind if they call me a whore behind my back, but they would also malign Hugh and Sissy. I didn’t feel I had the right to put them through that.”
She took Hugh’s hand. “My dear brother assures me that they don’t care one whit what people say. But it wasn’t just them I worried about. I worried about how you would feel, too.” She lowered her voice. “I thought you might resent me. Hate me for making you the brunt of people’s cruel comments.”
“I
don’t hate you,” Geordie said in a small voice. “I could never hate you.”
Relief rushed through her.
“What I don’t understand, boy,” Hugh said, “is why you came here. What in God’s name did you think Lord Jarret could do?”
Jarret met Annabel’s gaze with one so kind, it made her throat close up. “He had some idea that if I married you and took you away to London, then everything could go back to how it was before. I believe young George is particularly upset about the fact that, as he sees it, he no longer has sisters and a brother or grandparents. Or a father.”
Annabel’s heart broke. She hadn’t even considered that he might feel he’d lost most of his family in one fell swoop. Still, it hurt that he would want to be rid of her rather than lose them. It was exactly what she’d been afraid of.
“You will always be my son in my heart, boy,” Hugh said fiercely. “I don’t care what happens. And I know Sissy feels the same.”
“Geordie,” Annabel said, forcing herself to speak the words, “we can still go back to how things were.” She swallowed her tears, determined not to let him see them. This was hard enough for him as it was. “You’ll call me Aunt Annabel and they’ll be your parents, and everything will be as it was.”
“No,” Geordie said firmly. His eyes misted over as he looked at her. “Lord Jarret said I can’t un-drink the water, and he’s right. I can’t go back. We can’t go back. We have to go on.” He glanced up at Jarret. “Are you going to ask her?”
The abrupt change of subject threw Annabel off, until it dawned on her what he must be talking about.
“Yes,” Jarret said, his gaze locking with hers, “but it’s not something I’m prepared to do before an audience, lad.” He looked at Hugh. “Mr. Lake, you and I had a discussion the night before I left Burton, and I told you I didn’t know what I wanted. I do now. So if you wouldn’t mind taking George for a moment, and letting me speak to Annabel alone …”
“Of course,” Hugh said as he stood.
When Geordie came around the table to meet him, Annabel couldn’t stand it any longer. She rose to grab him and hold him close.
A Hellion in Her Bed Page 29