by Mary Campisi
“But Francie—”
She held up a hand and said, “Alexander prides himself on manners and comportment. So be it.”
“Thank you.” Julia nibbled on the cinnamon bread and concentrated on the reason for her visit. “I’m so excited, I have to tell someone.”
“Yes?”
“You know the couple you set on matching?”
“Sophie and Mr. Thurston?” Francie’s eyes lit up as she spoke.
Julia nodded. “They’re engaged!”
“I knew it!” She clapped her hands and laid them over her bulging middle. “I absolutely knew they’d suit. Do tell, every last delicious detail.”
“Actually, I don’t have any details. Not yet.” Holt had mentioned it in casual passing as he headed for the carriage on his way to London this morning. And being Holt, there was no wrestling further information, not even a time or place.
Jason hadn’t been much help either. Unfortunately, this was the blasted day of the month when he checked the estates and wouldn’t be home until supper. Julia had no information but the most important; a Langford was wedding a Seacrest. Of course, she couldn’t divulge that tidbit, not yet anyway.
“No need to worry,” Francie said, clasping Julia’s hand. “I’ll call on Sophie myself and congratulate her.”
“I think you should wait until they post bans, Francie. I get the impression Mr. Thurston is a very private man.”
“Sophie is my friend.” She realized her error as soon as she’d spoken the words. “I’m sorry. I know the two of you were once very close.”
“We were. Perhaps one day we’ll be close again.”
“One can only hope.”
“Yes,” Julia agreed. “One can only hope.”
Chapter 13
“Who would have believed Holt would walk back into our lives and end this ridiculous feud between the families by marrying Sophie? Love does prevail, does it not?”
Laughing at his sister’s sweet naiveté and charming antics, Jason chuckled and hugged her. “Hold on a minute. Holt mentioned nothing of being a peacemaker or ending feuds.”
“Meaning?”
“Sophie might not be aware of Holt’s true identity.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. How could she not know? Holt may be many things, but stupid is not one of them.” She hoisted herself onto the edge of his desk and swung a leg back and forth. “How could any girl not fall madly in love with a man who looks like a pirate? It’s the very stuff of fairy tales.”
“He’s not a pirate.”
“So you say.” She threw him a sly smile. “In all the times I’ve asked him, has he ever denied it?”
Jason sighed. “No.”
“Well, there you have it.”
“He probably thinks it is too ridiculous to warrant a reply.”
She shrugged. “Edith thinks he’s a pirate. So does, Marta. Even Gwen.”
“Good Lord, you’ve consulted the staff?”
“No.”
“Then how did you come by such information?”
His sister grew most intent on a tiny string dangling from the hem of her gown. “The wager book,” she muttered.
“Wager book?”
“Mmmm.” She darted a glance at him. “They’re betting chores on whether or not Gregory Thurston is a real pirate. Think what they’d say if they knew who he really was.”
“Yes,” Jason mused, wondering if he should fire the lot of them. “Just think.”
“They mean no harm. Please don’t mention it.”
“You think the hired help placing bets on their employer is harmless?” Did they make wagers on him, as well?
“Yes,” she stumbled, “I mean, no. Drat, I do mean yes. If you are bent on punishment, then you must punish me also.”
His gaze narrowed on his sister. “Why would I do that?”
She shrugged. “I provided the book and set the rules.”
“Julia!”
She threw him a pitiful look. “I know. I’m dreadful. Punish me, not them.”
Jason rubbed the back of his neck and wished for the hundredth time their mother had lived to teach Julia proper manners of comportment. He’d tried over the years, but she knew full well how to persuade him to permit breeches when she rode and her friendship these past several months with Francie Bishop had only exacerbated the situation. That woman let a dog and a damn duck run loose in her library!
“Jason, I promise to cease providing information regarding Gregory Thurston.”
“Good. Cease doing so immediately.”
“You have my word.” She slid off the edge of the desk and stood before him.
“Yes?” He tried to sound stern but failed as he always did with matters concerning his sister.
“May I please congratulate Sophie?”
“Julia.”
“Think what this union means. Not only will we gain the return of our brother, but I’ll regain my best friend.”
Jason shifted in his chair. “I don’t know. Holt merely informed me they were marrying in three week’s time and said he would discuss the rest when he returned from London.”
“Oh, Jason, don’t you see? Holt would never ask her to marry him and not reveal his true identity. That would be lunacy. You’ll see. I’ll invite her to dinner this evening and by the end of the meal we’ll be laughing about this.”
Once again, Jason could not resist the pleading look she gave him, and in the end, consented. Only after Julia left did the niggling doubt return. What reason would Holt have for keeping his identity a secret? Not Seacrest Shipping for he could have easily controlled or crushed the business had he a mind to do so. But what if Holt were in love with Sophie? What if he didn’t want to reveal his identity just yet for fear she’d reject him? Then, there might be a need for subterfuge. That possibility left Jason shaken until he recalled his brother’s words and relaxed. Holt didn’t believe in love. Period.
***
Sophie glanced up from her easel as the horse and rider descended the hill. Only one woman handled a mount with such precision and skill; Julia Langford. Sophie watched her old friend’s approach with a mixture of curiosity, longing, and apprehension. They’d had no more than a few chance encounters over the years and those had been awkward and unsettling. Sophie missed her dear friend and cursed the fate that had ripped them apart. She wanted to welcome Julia with a warm embrace, but duty and responsibility overshadowed instinct. “Julia,” she offered a cool smile, “this is something of a surprise.”
“Is it really a surprise, Sophie? How long did you think I could wait to see you?” Julia dismounted quickly and rushed forward. “I just returned from the continent yesterday or I would have called on you last evening!” Her smile grew radiant, excitement bubbling in her voice as she reached for Sophie’s hands, squeezed them tightly for a moment before releasing them to grab her skirts and twirl around. She laughed until, out of breath, she collapsed to the ground.
“Whatever are you doing?”
Julia laughed again. “I’ve come to offer my congratulations on your upcoming nuptials.”
“You know?”
“Of course, I know.”
“Well, thank you.” She supposed it was only proper for Gregory to inform his hosts of something as eventful as a marriage. Still, she would have preferred the Langfords know as little as possible about her family.
Julia sat up and said, “I know I should have waited until Holt got back to make the formal announcement, but I’ve missed you so. We’re going to be sisters!” She smiled and closed her eyes. “Isn’t it just too much?”
“Sisters?” What on earth was she blabbering about? And then, “Holt’s back?” Visions of a scrawny young boy with dark hair and a pale face flashed through her brain.
Julia’s eyes flew open and she jumped up, her face suddenly gone white. “Yes,” she hesitated and added, “Holt’s back.”
She did not sound certain of her answer. “Well, give him my regards.” Sophie pictured th
e poor young man who couldn’t walk across the room without stumbling.
Julia swallowed several times, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t be upset with him. He was going to tell you.”
“What are you talking about?” Julia had always been a bundle of energy, bouncing from one totally unrelated thought to another but she made absolutely no sense.
Julia bit her lower lip and blinked hard. “I should never have come and now I fear it is too late.”
Sophie grew impatient with her old friend’s blathering. “Julia, what you are talking about?”
“Holt.”
“Your brother.” The poor, awkward young man who hid behind his books . . .
Julia nodded. “Holt,” she repeated, “is . . .”
“Yes?” Sophie attempted to stifle a sigh but it slipped past her lips. “Holt is?”
“Gregory Thurston.”
“Absurd.”
“It’s true.”
“No.” No. “Holt Langford was a gangly young man who couldn’t lift an ink blotter without spilling it on himself. His skin was so pale it appeared translucent. I never thought he’d live to see his twentieth year.” Sophie threw her a knowing look. “Gregory Thurston could squeeze the life out of your brother with a mere glance.”
“It’s Holt,” Julia whispered in a pained voice. “Jason didn’t recognize him at first either. None of the servants know who he really is but I could tell from the eyes.”
“It can’t be.”
“Please don’t be mad at him for not telling you. I know he intended to very soon.” Julia paused a moment, beseeching Sophie to understand. “He started this charade about his identity because he didn’t want anyone to shove the title at him should he choose not to accept it. He created his own spider’s web when he hid his real identity from you, but the man you’ve come to know and have feelings for is Holt Langford, the new Earl of Westover.”
Holt Langford? It seemed impossible but Julia had no reason to lie. How ironic the man she opened her heart to should turn out to be a Langford.
“Sophie? Are you all right?”
No, she would never be all right. She gave a false smile, carefully avoiding Julia’s eyes. “I’m fine. I’m certain there are many young women who find themselves in similar predicaments, don’t you agree?” She began gathering her paintbrushes. “After all, a woman about to marry a man should not necessarily hope to learn his real name, should she?”
“Sophie, please—”
“Indeed not. I suppose once the marriage takes place is soon enough. Yes, that sounds perfectly reasonable to me.”
Julia fidgeted, staring uneasily at Sophie. “Please, you’re taking this whole situation much too far.”
“It is I who is doing so?” Sophie shook her head. “Oh no, Julia. This whole Langford charade has gone too far. Gregory — Holt, has gone too far and I am the unfortunate one caught in his web of deceit.” She bit the inside of her cheek, determined she would show her grief to no one, least of all Holt Langford’s sister. She would not allow herself to consider forgiving him. The man had deliberately deceived her and then there was the whole Langford issue. He was heir to her family’s chief rival. Had his interest in her been fueled by his desire to obtain Seacrest Shipping? Of course! The Earl of Westover could choose any marriage partner he desired and yet he had chosen her to avenge his family. He cared not a fig for her. The pieces all fit, nice, tidy, and exceedingly ugly. “I must ask that you not speak a word of our conversation to anyone until I have a chance to meet with your brother.”
“But what will you say to him?”
Sophie looked away and said nothing.
“Of course, I’ll keep quiet.” Julia’s voice turned desperate. “He should have told you, Sophie. I’ll admit that, but no matter, you care for one another. You’ll work this out. Won’t you?”
Chapter 14
Holt couldn’t wait to get home. London had been crowded and stifling and all he’d thought of the last three days was getting back to Sophie. For years, home had been a ship and whatever port he docked in. But lately, he’d actually been thinking about the possibility of a real home, his home, inhabited by people he cared about and who cared about him. Especially Sophie.
He recalled the last time they’d been together. She’d cursed him in one breath and melted against him the next. He’d been with enough women to concede making love with Sophie created feelings in him he couldn’t identify and certainly didn’t want to acknowledge. As his phaeton drew closer to Ellswood, Holt concentrated on what he would say to Sophie this evening. There was the little matter of his true identity, which he must deal with posthaste. He didn’t like deceiving her, however innocently it had begun. He wanted to hear her say she accepted the man he was, not the title or family, and then he wanted to hear his real name on her lips as she clung to him and reached her fulfillment.
Twilight hovered over Ellswood when the phaeton finally rolled to a stop. Holt bound from it and raced up the entrance to his home. “Good day, Jaffe.” He actually smiled at the ancient butler. “Where’s that brother of mine?”
Jaffe cleared his throat before announcing in his most dignified manner, “Mr. Jason is visiting one of the properties and is not expected to return until later this evening.”
“And my sister?” He continued talking as he headed toward the stairs. “Is she here?”
“Lady Julia has taken to her quarters pleading a headache.”
“Very well. I’ll be leaving shortly.” He almost told the old man where he was headed, but tomorrow would be time enough to shake up the household with news of his real identity and his betrothal.
An hour later, Holt traveled the short distance to Waverly Manor. Soon, he’d pull Sophie into his arms, taste the sweetness of promise on her lips, and breathe in the intoxicating scent that was uniquely her. Who would have thought he would actually want a wife? Only one obstacle stood in the way of complete happiness and he would rectify that tonight. Sophie would not take kindly to the deception. He would have to handle her with kid gloves if they were to get through this with a minimum of upset, and they would get through this. After all, she cared for him. Didn’t she?
Why then was he experiencing a growing uneasiness as Waverly Manor came into view? He couldn’t put a name to it, but the gnawing in the pit of his stomach warned him that despite his optimistic viewpoint, his impending encounter with his fiancé would not be a pleasant one.
***
The drawing room was dim save for the glowing flames of the fire. The end of summer warred with fall and by night’s end admitted defeat as the cool airs permeated the darkness, necessitating a fire to cut the chill outside. Sophie stared at the jumping flames but saw nothing past the treachery that consumed her. He hadn’t cared about her at all and that realization proved almost unbearable. But she would bear it and she would go on because she had responsibilities and no one to blame for her foolishness but herself.
The door to the drawing room opened and she knew it was him. She did not turn to greet him lest he see the pain on her face. He approached her quietly and when he stood directly behind her, he placed a gentle kiss on her neck.
“God, how I’ve missed you.” His hands settled on her shoulders, molding them to his touch. His mouth became more insistent as it searched the tiny hollows of her neck. “You feel like heaven.”
She closed her eyes and braced herself for what she must do. “Hello, Holt.”
She knew the instant her words registered; just a hint of undue pressure on her shoulders before his hands stilled. “What did you say?”
Sophie turned and met his carefully blank expression. He was so very good at subterfuge. “Would you rather I call you Lord Westover?”
“Who told you?”
She merely stared at him. She must ignore the pain in her heart for that was caused by treachery, nothing more.
“Tell me, dammit.” When he realized she was not going to answer, he cursed and headed
for the half-full bottle of whiskey on the sideboard. Not until he’d downed his first whiskey and poured another, did he speak. “I never intended for any of this to happen. When I returned to England after Edward’s death, I had little intention of accepting his title or any of the trappings. I certainly had no intention of getting involved with you. Jason asked for my help settling the dispute between Seacrest and Langford Shipping. It seemed the least I could do after all the years he’d spent here while I was off chasing one adventure or another. I made him and Julia promise to keep my identity a secret. That way, when the job was done, I could exit gracefully and no one would be the wiser.”
“How very clever of you.”
He shot her a dark look and continued, “You changed everything. I no longer knew what I wanted.” He paced the floor, his eyes averted. “Christ, I couldn’t get through a day without wanting to hear your voice or see your face. It was unmanning me. So, I thought to make you my mistress and end the torment. You know what happened on that count.” His laugh rang out cold and humorless. “The day I visited your father, I had no intention of offering for you, but after the arrangements had been made, I was certain it was exactly what I wanted to do.” He pinned her with a deep, searching stare. “And of course, after the incident at the cottage, it was the only gentlemanly thing to do.”
Her gasp echoed throughout the room. The only gentlemanly thing to do! As though he were doing her a favor. “But we both know you are no gentleman.”
“Even I, on occasion, can behave as one.”
“You lied to me.” She moved toward him. “You let me care for you knowing full well how I felt about your family. You pursued me for Seacrest Shipping, but you won’t get the company because I won’t marry you.”
Holt’s expression hardened. “You think I wasted my time and an enormous amount of aggravation for Seacrest Shipping? I could buy ten of them. I don’t give a damn about your company, but in case you haven’t perused a balance sheet lately, if your father doesn’t stop his ridiculous vendetta against my family, there won’t be a company to worry about.”