Loving Lady Marcia
Page 27
Marcia’s heart twisted. “I’m sorry I was so rude. But I can’t tolerate Mr. Lattimore in our house. I don’t want to see you hurt, Janice.”
“Hurt?” Janice wiped away a tear. “Why should he hurt me? He’s the most lovely person in the world. He accommodates the family on our outings. He has a cheerful demeanor and wonderful manners. How could you find fault with him?”
“Yes, Marcia.” Mama’s limpid blue eyes showed concern. “I have to wonder that myself. What do you know of him that we don’t?”
“Haven’t you heard?” Marcia’s lips thinned. “He’s been cut off by Lord Chadwick.”
Although she was done with Duncan, her heart had beat hard at reading the news in the paper that morning. She wondered if he’d done it partially for her.
“Yes, the gossip columns say so,” cried Janice, “but sensible people know better. You can’t believe everything you read—why, it said the other day that you and Lord Chadwick had disappeared at the Livingstons’ ball! No one believes that.”
Marcia’s face heated. “Perhaps not. But Mr. Lattimore’s moved out of Albany and is living with friends.”
“Yes, he has,” said Janice. “Lord and Lady Green.”
“Perfectly respectable people,” Mama interjected.
“And he told Mama and me himself,” Janice said with great passion, “that he wasn’t cut off from his brother. He chose to move from Albany and make something of himself. He’s only at the Greens’ temporarily. He’s decided to join a regiment. I, for one, think that’s commendable.”
“I must agree,” said Mama. “I admire him for not living out of his brother’s pockets indefinitely, as so many young men do.”
Marcia was seething with frustration. Janice was implacable. Mama, it seemed, had been as taken in by Finn’s charms as Janice. But could Marcia allow herself to be surprised? Here he had taken her virginity and abandoned her, but years later, she’d still been drawn to him.
“Mama,” she said patiently, “are you really going to allow Janice to go to Vauxhall with him tonight?”
“Yes,” Mama replied firmly. “I trust the Greens implicitly, and I think it’s unfair at this point to base our judgments of Finnian Lattimore upon gossip that appears completely unfounded.”
“I agree,” said Janice, sounding smug to Marcia’s ears.
Marcia’s frustration, fueled by her own romantic misery, boiled over. “You’re making a huge mistake, Janice. If you could get the stars out of your eyes, you’d see.”
Janice stood, quivering. “So now you’re jealous? It’s your fault he switched his attentions to me.”
“I couldn’t care less,” Marcia said. “I only wish he’d leave you alone, too.”
Janice gasped. “I was so happy when you came back that you’d be here to share in my first Season, especially because you had to miss my debut. And I was perfectly content to share my beaus with you. More than happy. I was overjoyed to see you take so well after having missed out on having your own London debut. But now I wish you’d go back to that school of yours!”
She raced out of the room and up the stairs. Marcia heard her give a little sob on the way.
Tears came to her eyes, too.
Oh, she felt terrible. Terrible.
But she couldn’t regret what she’d told them about Finn.
Mama’s eyes were grave. “I hate to see you and your sister at odds.”
Marcia sighed. “I do, too. My heart aches for her. But I stand by what I said, Mama. It has nothing to do with jealousy.” She stood. “And I might as well tell you now. I am going back to Oak Hall. Lysandra has seen sense, in her own selfish way, and offered me the position again.”
“Oh, Marcia,” Mama whispered. “You’re doing so well here. Are you sure there isn’t a young man you care for among the many we’ve socialized with this Season?”
Marcia went to sit next to her and took her hand. “No, Mama,” she said firmly, although she had butterflies in her stomach. She’d never been good at lying. “I’m so sorry.”
She and Mama exchanged a long, silent look.
Mama tilted her head knowingly. “Are you sure there’s no one? I thought you might like Lord Chadwick. You’ve brought Joe here several times.”
Marcia began to feel distinctly uncomfortable. “But you notice I’ve gone to great lengths to get him here without fanfare so there won’t be any gossip about me and his father. That’s for a good reason. There’s nothing between us.”
Mama sighed. “I’ve noticed the earl doesn’t come round anymore.”
“I went to that trouble for Joe. He’s a sweet boy who needed some friends.”
“He is, isn’t he?” A tender, almost sad smile formed on Mama’s face.
Marcia hated to disappoint her mother. But she couldn’t tell her that she’d loved meeting Lord Chadwick in those few stolen moments when they’d met to exchange Joe. It had been her way of telling him she cared, not only about Joe but about him.
She just couldn’t let Mama know. There was no future there.
“I suppose we’re going to lose you again,” Mama said.
Marcia hugged her. “Please don’t be sad for me,” she whispered and clung to her mother’s shoulder. “You know how much I love Oak Hall.”
“I do,” said Mama. “And I’ll support sending you off again on one condition—”
Marcia pulled back. “What is it?”
“That you’re going for the right reasons,” Mama said lovingly, and tucked a curl behind Marcia’s ear, “and not trying to run away from something else.”
“Of course,” Marcia said out loud, but inside her heart broke a little more.
Mother’s intuition was an uncanny thing.
Chapter Thirty-one
That night Marcia lay in bed waiting for Janice to come back from Vauxhall. She heard her about two in the morning, creeping past her bedchamber to her own.
She was tempted to go to her—to apologize for interfering with her debut, for making her cry—but everything had gotten so complicated.
She didn’t want to create any scenes late at night, especially when feelings were so raw already.
In the morning she went to Janice’s room, prepared to talk things out with her sister—even if it meant she had to tell her the whole truth about Finn—but she wasn’t there.
Usually, Marcia was awake well before Janice, no doubt because she was used to keeping headmistress’s hours, no matter how late she stayed out the night before. But this morning, when she came down the stairs, she could hear Janice talking with Mama and Daddy in the breakfast room.
Janice sounded incredibly excited about something.
Marcia paused.
“But do you love him?” Marcia heard Mama say.
Marcia’s heart nearly stopped. And then she had a wild hope that they were talking of someone other than Finn.
“Yes, I love him,” said Janice happily. “Who couldn’t? He’s kind, amiable, handsome”—she giggled at that part—“and he treats me like a queen. He’s also got so many wonderful ideas. Life with him will be an adventure.”
“So you’d follow the regiment?” asked Daddy.
Marcia clenched her skirts. Dear God, it was Finn they were talking about! Oh, he was a sly one. Right under her nose! All because he knew she’d never tell what had happened between them.
“Yes, of course,” said Janice. “I look forward to that.”
“When is he coming to speak with Daddy?” Mama asked her.
“This afternoon sometime. He said after one.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Daddy said. “But my dear, one part of my heart is still troubled by this report in the paper that he and his brother are estranged. I’ll need to speak to Lord Chadwick to clarify the situation.”
“Daddy! Don’t do that,” Janice’s voice was strained with something like panic. “You’ll make Finn feel like a scoundrel.”
“It’s my duty,” their stepfather replied.
“Yes, Daddy
.” Janice’s indignation was muted, out of respect for him, but Marcia could hear it, nonetheless. “I dread telling Marcia,” she added, caution in her voice. “She hates him so.”
“It will have to be done, my girl,” said Daddy, “if it even happens at all. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“But Daddy, of course it will be done! He hinted very strongly to me that today was the day. I’m sure I didn’t read him wrong.”
“Perhaps you didn’t,” said Mama. “But I agree with your father, Janice. We’ll have to wait and see how the day unfolds.”
Marcia backed up the steps. She simply couldn’t face them, not now. She would go to her room and ask for tea and toast to be sent up.
Janice couldn’t marry Finn. She just couldn’t. But the more Marcia protested with vague criticisms, the more everyone would believe she was simply jealous.
Could Duncan convey to Daddy how wrong Finn was for Janice?
Marcia really had no idea why Finn had been cut off. What if Daddy thought that Duncan’s problems with his brother was mere family bickering—and what if he went ahead and gave permission?
Then again, what if Duncan didn’t even try to warn off Daddy? He had no authority over his brother anymore. He’d cut him loose. Perhaps if Daddy summoned him, he wouldn’t even come over to discuss the issue, especially in light of the fact that she’d turned down his own proposal of marriage and run away from him.
Oh, dear.
It was all too iffy—except for one solution.
There was no way around it. She’d have to be the one to stop Finn. And she knew how to do it, too.
A strange buzzing began in her arms and legs, and she felt light-headed. She lay back on her bed and took slow breaths. Now, she told herself. Do it now before you lose your nerve.
That was the thing about secrets, she thought as she went seeking Mama. You never really could run away from them. They always came back to haunt you.
But Mama had already gone out, the boys told her in the breakfast room. She, Cynthia, and Janice had gone to Covent Garden to select the week’s flowers.
Daddy was in the back garden, tending his beloved climbing roses.
Slowly, Marcia walked through the house and opened the door to the garden. There he was, looking up at one of the climbers, pruning shears in his hand, no doubt anticipating the blooms that would soon come forth.
She caught his eye, and he grinned. “Hello, sleepyhead. I missed you at breakfast this morning.”
She gave him a wan smile. “I had tea and toast in my room.”
“Are you well? You look a little peaked.”
“I’m fine, Daddy.”
He did a little pruning and stood back. “Your mother told me about yesterday afternoon.”
He eyed the climber again. Snip, snip.
Marcia crossed her arms and walked up close to watch him. “Yes, it was difficult.” She paused. “I overheard your discussion this morning with Janice.”
“You did, now.”
“It’s why I wasn’t at breakfast.” Her voice was thin.
Daddy gave her a long look. “Do you still have a tendre for the lad? Is it going to break your heart if Janice marries him?”
She couldn’t help a little laugh. “Oh, no, Daddy. I don’t like him at all. And I’ll be devastated if Janice marries him.”
He lifted her chin with his free hand and looked down his nose at her. “You need to explain yourself.”
“I will,” she said, “but keep pruning. Please.”
His forehead wrinkled, but he did as she asked.
Snip.
Marcia prayed for courage. “Long ago,” she began, “Finn and I had a few weeks in which we had eyes only for each other. As young people do. Especially those thrown together on a journey.”
Daddy looked over at her and grinned. “Oh, I know, my dear. I had a few of those myself.”
Snip, snip.
“We traveled to Liverpool together,” she said, “then to Dublin, and on the night of my sixteenth birthday”—she swallowed hard—“I gave myself to him, Daddy.”
Snip.
An entire cane of the climber came falling down, nearly on their heads.
“Bloody hell,” Daddy said, and stared at her.
Her eyes filled with tears. “He told me we’d run off to Gretna Green together. But the next morning, he left for America. He wrote me a letter telling me his brother had forced him to go. He said one reason was to keep us apart.”
Daddy dropped his shears and put his hands on her upper arms, bracing her. She’d never seen his gaze so sad, so disbelieving.
“The truth was, Daddy,” she whispered, “Finn wanted to go. He hadn’t been meant to leave for another year, or even two. He asked Lord Chadwick to send him early. His brother had no idea, of course, what had happened between us. He thought Finn was showing maturity, an eagerness to start a new life managing their property outside Richmond. But Finn was merely frightened, I believe, of continuing our relationship. Of perhaps being found out and made to marry me.”
“Oh, my darling girl.” The creases around Daddy’s eyes and mouth deepened. “The agony you must have gone through.”
He held her close against his chest, and she let silent tears stream down her face. “I was afraid to tell you and Mama.”
“I wish you had, my dear.” He pressed her closer. “Family is family. We would have supported you through it all.”
“I know that now.” She pulled back and wiped her eyes with her fingertips.
Daddy found a handkerchief in his coat pocket and took over. “It’s glad I am you told me,” he said in the thickest Irish brogue she’d ever heard him use. “You’re a brave girl. Protecting your sister, you were. You spilled a secret I’m sure you had no intention of sharing.”
“You’re right,” she said. “I thought I’d take it with me to the grave.”
“I’m glad not only for Janice’s sake but for yours that you didn’t.” He smiled sadly at her. “Life can’t be lived fully with such a burden weighing down your soul.”
“I do feel better, Daddy.” She bit her lip. “Although I feel guilt, too, that I’ve brought you sorrow.”
“Another part of life we can’t escape,” he said, trudging over to the shed to put the shears away. “But we’ll bear it together,” he said from inside.
Marcia peeked into the humble building—Daddy was stacking some pots in the corner and tidying up. Perhaps he needed a moment to compose himself.
Well, she would wait for him, poor man. She’d given him quite a shock.
A strong pang of nostalgia assailed her as her eyes roamed the cramped space. She’d had an amazing tryst here with Duncan. Funny that she felt no shame about it, even though here she was talking to her stepfather about sleeping with Finn.
But Duncan was different. He cared about her. He wanted to marry her.
But did he love her?
She didn’t know. What she did know was that she’d entered into a forbidden relationship with him fully aware of the consequences.
Outside the shed, she couldn’t help allowing her gaze to drift to the rhododendron bushes and the lamp post. Duncan had kissed her there. He hadn’t taken no for an answer, had he? She remembered that part with a smile. Afterward, he’d asked her who was taking care of her.
She closed her eyes at the poignant memory.
Thinking back on all the times they’d shared, both good and bad, she could no longer keep to the story that she only wanted to be with him because he was a good friend and a good man who happened to be devastatingly handsome and an excellent kisser.
She gave a little laugh of recognition. She loved him. She loved him with all her heart and soul. The knowledge made fresh tears come to her eyes, but she quickly slashed them away.
There was nothing she could do about it. And now wasn’t the time to make herself even more miserable.
“What should we tell Mama?” she asked Daddy a moment later, when he came out of the s
hed and shut the door behind him.
“Your mother and I have no secrets. And I think it’s best she know, don’t you? So she can give you her special brand of motherly comfort.”
Mama did know how to comfort people well. Marcia was so fortunate. She had the kindest parents in the world. Daddy hadn’t chastised her, and she didn’t think Mama would, either. Not when so many years had passed. Not when she was now older and wiser.
“We won’t tell Janice, of course,” said Daddy. “She has no need to know.”
“Thank you.” She hugged him again. “I’m so sorry about the roses.”
He chuckled. “Oh, it’s not all bad. It’ll come back stronger than ever. That’s what pruning does for roses. And that, my girl”—he held her at arm’s length—“is what pruning does for us, too. You’re stronger than ever because of the wounds you’ve suffered. I don’t think the Marcia I knew before this happened would have been able to run an entire school. She was a lovely, sweet girl with not a care in the world. She’d have been overwhelmed quickly, I think.”
“I think you’re right, Daddy.”
He cleared his throat, and his expression grew somber. “Now I am your father, so I have things I must do in accordance with what you’ve told me.”
She felt a jab of alarm. “You mean, other than not entertaining Finn’s suit?”
“Yes. There must be consequences beyond that.” His face took on a dark, brooding quality.
How had she never noticed how fierce and frightening Daddy could be? “But Daddy—”
“No buts.”
“I hoped you wouldn’t be angry at me. I thought we could move on. Together. Isn’t that what you said?”
“Yes, I did.” He squeezed her hand. “And I’m not angry with you. You were a young girl who was taken advantage of by an older boy. Whatever happens won’t be brought about to punish you, but you must prepare yourself.”
“Prepare myself?”
“This matter isn’t over. You brought it to light, yes. But justice has not been done.”
“I don’t want justice,” she insisted. “I want to go back to Oak Hall.”
“That may be.” Daddy’s expression was implacable. “But I won’t allow a daughter of mine to be hurt and there not be a price paid.”