Second, someone might recognize her as Lady Stratford’s—“Meg’s”—dead twin sister. Which would be inevitable if Meg and Serena went out and about together. But Serena was a popular, fashionable lady about Town now, and knowledge that Meg hadn’t drowned would inevitably create gossip. If that happened, Caversham or his brother, the Marquis of Millbridge, would find her post haste, she’d be thrown into prison for kidnapping, and Jake would be back in his father’s clutches.
So she couldn’t go outside. She couldn’t step past the doors of the Earl of Stratford’s opulent townhome. She often sat, as she did this morning, on one of the silk-upholstered chairs clustered between the majestic Ionic columns that flanked the drawing room window. From here, she could watch the bustle of the square beyond through the crack in the curtains.
She’d loved London on her last visit. It was so vast, so endlessly marvelous after a quiet childhood on a small, sparsely populated island. There was so much to see and do. And the people—so many of them, of all shapes and sizes, of all colors and social statuses.
But now, all she could do was look out the window and watch them.
Beside her, Jake sat on his heels on the carpet, examining the torn-up pieces of paper scattered around him. Jake’s new obsession, now that he couldn’t follow Will around all day, was puzzles. Using the earl’s pen and ink, Meg would draw a picture of a house or countryside on a sheet of parchment, then tear it up into tiny pieces. Jake would spend hours putting the puzzle together, mixing the pieces up, and putting them together again.
Outside, three young women walked by, their heads close together, laughing at something one of them had said.
Meg had spent a great deal of time trying to reacquaint herself with her sisters. Will came every day and sat with her as she did so. Olivia and Phoebe, whom she’d reunited with the morning after she’d arrived in London, made daily visits from the Duke of Wakefield’s house to see her.
In the afternoons, they’d all sit in the drawing room with her, talk to her, reminisce with her. It seemed to Meg that they were unconsciously trying to form her into the dear sister they’d once known. All their effort only served to remind her that she wasn’t that person anymore. She still loved them. She was glad that they were happy here in London, with their newfound status and riches. But the past years had formed her into a different being. Serena, Olivia, Phoebe, and Jessica were obviously sisters, of one mind and spirit, and Meg stood apart, the proverbial black sheep.
In a way, being with them was worse than dreaming about them, remembering them. Now, in their presence, she realized that at some point in the past several years, the connection between her and them had been severed. She wasn’t a true Donovan. Not anymore.
Suddenly, Jessica burst into the room. “There you are!”
Meg smiled up at her sister. “Good morning.”
Jessica gave Jake a friendly smile, but he didn’t pay her any attention. Sighing, Jessica plumped down on the chair beside Meg’s. “What do you think, Meg?”
“About what?”
“Well, Lord Marsden has asked me to walk with him today. Serena is insisting that she come along. I think that’s absurd.”
“Why?”
Jessica huffed out a sigh. “For goodness’ sake. I’m not some virginal maiden in need of protecting. I’m nineteen years old!”
Meg raised a brow. “You’re not a maiden? You’re not virginal? Is that what you’re saying?”
Jessica had the presence of mind to blush at that. Then she scowled. “I wish I wasn’t.” She looked directly into Meg’s eyes. “Virginity is a pest a lady is best rid of as soon as possible, don’t you think?”
Meg stared at her sister. Then she simply shrugged and looked down at Jake, who’d ignored the entire conversation. He was busy mixing up the pieces of the puzzle for the hundredth time.
Jessica gave a low chuckle. “That would have truly scandalized the old Meg.”
The old Meg. Her sisters often talked about “the old Meg” and how her demeanor had changed so much from that perfect, idealized young lady.
“Would it?” Meg murmured. “You were only eleven years old the last time you saw me. How could you remember how the old Meg would have reacted to such a statement?”
“Because I scandalized you all the time then. Don’t you remember?”
Meg frowned. “No.” In truth, she hardly remembered anything of that Meg. Except that she had possessed so many romantic notions and dreams. She had known so much less about the world than she did now.
“Well, it doesn’t matter,” Jessica said. “But honestly. What does Serena think I’m going to do? Lie with Lord Marsden in the middle of Hyde Park? Goodness, I don’t even like him very much. I doubt I’d let him kiss me.”
“Why not?” Meg asked, bemused.
“His nose is too long. And he’s thirty-one. Far too old.” She gave a mock shudder.
“I see,” Meg said gravely.
Jessica’s blue eyes suddenly widened. “I’ve a brilliant idea! Why don’t you come with me instead of Serena? You can walk far behind us, and we’ll hardly know you’re there. You’ll be far less bothersome than Serena, I know it.”
“I don’t think so,” Meg said.
Jessica’s lips turned down in a little pout. Good Lord, but her youngest sister was lovely. And she knew it, Meg thought, watching the sparkle in those intelligent eyes. She knew how to manipulate with her expressions and her looks. But it wouldn’t work with Meg—at least not when it came to her going out among people and the risks that would entail.
“I can’t leave the house, Jessica,” she said. “You know that. It’s too dangerous.”
“Pfft. You can’t stay imprisoned in this house forever.”
That was true enough. A plan was forming in Meg’s mind… It wasn’t ideal, but it was the only one she had. The only thing that might protect all of her loved ones.
She’d talk to Serena and the earl about it. Tonight at dinner, perhaps.
The thought of it—of leaving her family again, and this time voluntarily—made a hard lump form in her throat.
She glanced meaningfully at Jake. All her sisters knew that she’d taken Jake illegally. Thank God they hadn’t condemned her for that.
Jessica glanced down at the boy, then bit her lip and sighed. “I understand.” Clasping her arms over her chest, she leaned forward. “I appreciate your need to protect him,” she said in a low voice. “I truly do, Meg, because you consider him family. I would protect any person in my family to the best of my ability, too. And that includes you, you know.”
Meg’s heart softened toward her younger sister. “Thank you,” she murmured. She’d heard about how Jessica had befriended Lady Fenwicke last winter, and when she’d discovered how Lord Fenwicke was beating his wife, she’d convinced her to leave the horrid man.
As beautiful and delicate as Jessica appeared, she possessed an inner core of solid steel. It felt good to Meg to have such strength on her side.
Jessica’s blue eyes studied her, and though they still contained that mischievous spark, they were serious. “I know you, Meg. Even though you think I cannot remember your true character, and even though you think you have changed irrevocably, I do know you. And above all, I know you wouldn’t have”—she glanced at Jake again and lowered her voice, even though he continued to ignore them—“taken a child from his father unless it was truly warranted.”
Meg closed her eyes, and with a shudder, she remembered the time Jake had been trailing after his father—just after his mother had died—and for no other reason than his rage over Sarah’s death, Caversham had grabbed the child by the collar and tossed him overboard. If not for the quick thinking of one of the sailors, who, by some God-given instinct, had torn off his jacket and jumped in after the boy, he surely would have drowned.
The crew had turned the ship around to fetch the boy and the sailor, while Caversham had stalked to his quarters and drunken himself into a stupor. No one saw him for tw
o days after that, when he returned to the deck, pretending like none of it had ever happened.
That incident had only been the beginning. It had been bad enough with the drunken rages and beatings when Sarah had been alive. But afterward… Meg shuddered again.
She bent forward and ruffled Jake’s soft brown hair. He was safe now, and she’d keep him that way.
“If there’s one thing I’ve ever done right in my lifetime,” she told Jessica, “it was taking him away from that man.”
The door swung open, jolting Meg’s attention. Even Jake’s head riveted toward the sound.
It was Serena and the earl, followed by one of the maids. Serena smiled, first at Jake. “Jake, Molly is here with me. She wants to take you into the kitchen for a sweet. Would you like that?”
Jake didn’t answer. He stared at her, then looked at Meg, his blue eyes flaring with panic, and gave a vigorous shake of his head.
Meg tried to give him a reassuring smile. “I could go with you,” she murmured. “Would you like that?”
The earl cleared his throat. “There are a few things we’d like to discuss with you, Meg.”
She glanced sharply at him. The way he and Serena stood side by side, it looked like they did intend to have a serious discussion with her. One they didn’t want Jake present for.
She didn’t want him present for it, either. But being away from him made her anxious—even when he was safe asleep in her bed and she was awake somewhere else in the house. Whenever she was apart from him, she worried. He felt the same. This was a new world for him, and his fears tended to overwhelm him unless Meg was within viewing distance.
Jake was only six years old, but he understood a great deal, not the least of which was why they’d escaped from his father. She sighed and looked up at her brother-in-law. “Jake would prefer to stay here. Whatever we need to discuss can be said in his presence.”
The earl leveled a look at Jake, who ignored him, having already gone back to his puzzle. He tended to focus so intensely on his current obsession that he usually didn’t listen to the drone of adults, anyhow.
Serena glanced at her husband and nodded. “Very well.” After turning to dismiss Molly, she took the seat beside Meg on the opposite side of Jessica. The earl sat on a cream-striped silk chair across from them.
Her brother-in-law opened his mouth to speak, but Meg held up her hand. “Please,” she said. “I believe I know what you’re going to say. This situation is truly impossible, and it has been horrible of me to disrupt all of your lives this way—”
“Nonsense.” Serena sounded cross. “Really, Meg. Don’t be absurd. We’re your family.”
Meg clasped her hands in her lap and looked down at them, watching her knuckles turn white. She chose her words carefully so as not to upset Jake—if he was listening. “The truth of the matter is that I cannot stay in London. I’m positive he’ll be coming for us. I can’t allow that to happen.”
Serena nodded thoughtfully. “Jonathan and I have spoken about this. We want to help you.” She leaned forward in her chair and spoke earnestly. “We are so happy you’ve come back to us. We all wish we could keep you here, have you close, so that we can be sure you’re all right. We want you with us so badly. But the fact of the matter is that you’re in danger here in London, and we cannot continue to selfishly keep you here.”
It was a relief, really. Serena and Lord Stratford already understood why she needed to go away.
“I should go to Ireland,” Meg said. “It is where I had originally planned to go, before Captain Langley—”
Serena shook her head. “No,” she said, her voice flat. “It’s too far away. Plus, the Donovan side of the family was never happy with Father for leaving Ireland to begin with, don’t you remember?”
“Of course, but I don’t think they’d turn me away.” Meg had met her grandparents and aunts once, on a visit to Ireland before they’d gone to Antigua. They had seemed to be kind enough people, if a little distant. But wouldn’t anyone feel distant from a son who’d been gone for a decade, a daughter-in-law they’d never met, and five young and very English granddaughters? “Even if they did turn me away,” she continued, “I’d manage.”
Again, Serena shook her head. “This is where our idea comes into effect.”
“Phoebe’s husband, Sebastian, has a house in Prescot, in Lancashire,” Lord Stratford said. “We’ve used it as a safe house before.”
Jessica, who’d been sitting quietly to this point, snorted. “Not very effectively!”
“True,” Lord Stratford said. “But in the past, the various people who found it were able to easily discover our connection to the house. This time, it won’t be so easy.”
“The first time, it was Phoebe,” Serena said. “She ran away with Sebastian and they lived there for a few days—until we found them. Jonathan knew it was Sebastian’s only property, so he assumed correctly that it would be the logical place for them to go.”
“And then it was me and Beatrice.” Jessica blew out a breath. Beatrice was Lady Fenwicke—the sweet lady who’d escaped from her abusive husband. She was currently their houseguest and had been for some time.
“That time it was a bit more insidious,” Serena explained. “Lord Fenwicke had employed a spy in our household, and he learned the girls’ whereabouts from her.”
“I think it will be safe for you,” Lord Stratford said again.
“No one knows of your existence except the man who’s after you,” Serena added. “You could go to one of Jonathan’s or Max’s other properties, but surely anyone would search those before looking in Lancashire. It just feels like the safest option for you, Meg.”
Meg nodded, relieved. They really did understand the danger to Jake. They wouldn’t demand that she stay in London and parade herself about Town.
Serena leaned forward and squeezed her hand. “I need to remain here,” she said quietly. “It would raise too many questions if I were to go with you.”
“I’ll go,” Jessica said.
Serena shook her head. “No, Jess, you must stay as well, along with Beatrice. Too many people will notice if you leave London now.”
Jessica rolled her eyes heavenward and sighed heavily but didn’t argue.
“I can go alone,” Meg said quickly. “Jake and I will be fine.”
“A full complement of my most trusted servants will accompany you to Prescot. You’ll have a coachman, a footman, a maid, and a cook at your disposal,” Lord Stratford said. “And we’ll supply you with an unmarked traveling carriage with lanterns so you can travel through the night without having to repeat the awkward experience you had on your way to London.”
“Thank goodness Barbara and Mildred are harmless,” Serena said.
Jake looked up at that. “Barbara looks like an orange,” he said, before going right back to his puzzle.
Meg nodded gratefully, feeling a flush rise in her cheeks at the remembered embarrassment of those women believing she was Serena.
Serena brought Meg’s knuckles to her lips and pressed a hard kiss on them. “I know it’s been difficult for you here. I wish you could stay here with me—with us. I wish”—she blinked, her gray eyes, so much like Meg’s own, glistening—“I wish we could be as close as we once were.”
Meg turned her gaze to her lap. That was her fault. She was too quiet, too reserved. She’d withdrawn too much from them.
“But we have time,” Serena added, her voice quiet. “When this is all over. When you come back to us and this affair is all straightened out and”—she glanced down at Jake—“you’re safe.”
Jessica nodded vigorously. “This will be over soon, and we’ll all be together again. I feel it,” she proclaimed.
Meg wasn’t so confident. Her family still didn’t know Caversham’s identity—they’d given up pressing her for it—or his relationship to the Marquis of Millbridge. They didn’t know that Caversham would never give up.
Still, she nodded and tried to give her sisters an
d Lord Stratford a game smile. “When shall I go?”
“We’ll plan this carefully,” Lord Stratford said. “We must take great care in obtaining everything required to ensure your safety.”
“Next week?” Serena asked.
“Next week is perfect,” Meg said. It would give her time to prepare Jake for the journey.
She looked down at him, her expression softening as she watched him mix up the pieces of the puzzle, then shove them to the side to clear a space to put it back together again. Dear, sweet Jake.
Someday, she promised him silently, we’ll have a home where we will live, without moving, until you’re old enough to want to move away. And you’ll never have to worry or be fearful ever again.
Chapter Seven
Will sat in the alcove that served as his breakfast room. Laid out before him on the round oak table were his coffee, toast, poached egg, and an ignored copy of the Times.
He hadn’t touched the egg, and he held his half-eaten toast between his fingers as he stared out the window into the small, grassy courtyard behind his house.
He’d lived alone for a long time now, but in the past fortnight his house had begun to feel so… lonely. So quiet. Before he’d encountered Meg in the Irish Sea, he’d considered this his place of refuge, but now it seemed so cold and sterile. He hadn’t read the Times since he’d arrived in London—extremely out of character for him, a man who liked to keep informed. Every day, he rushed through his breakfast and abandoned it half uneaten simply so he could leave his empty house.
No, that wasn’t completely true. It wasn’t so simple. The truth was, he rushed to get out of here every morning because he missed her.
Pleasures of a Tempted Lady Page 8