by Jenna Jaxon
Jenny laughed and patted his hand. “That’s all right. I understand.”
“Anyway, I’ve told them I won’t do it. I won’t marry you.”
She blinked and stared at the young man she had known all her life. Or thought she had known. “You won’t?”
“No.” He shook his head and his fair hair caught the firelight, turning it red-gold.
“You’re going to defy your parents?”
He cocked his head. “Aren’t you? You said in the dining room—”
“I said I wouldn’t do it. But that doesn’t mean they won’t try to force me.” Jenny twisted her handkerchief again. It would probably be in tatters by the end of the afternoon. “And there are legal papers, Aunt Henrietta said. A contract. Can that compel us to marry?” She looked again into his face, pleased to find his brows furrowed in thought.
He shook his head. “I know very little about the law. I believe that a betrothal contract may be entered into by our parents on our behalf, however we must consent to the marriage. I have heard of the Hardwicke Laws and they make it impossible for anyone to compel us to marry if we do not wish it. And we do not.”
“No, we do not.” A twinge of regret flickered through her. As though a door she had not known was open suddenly closed.
The library door swung open and Jenny jumped as Aunt Arabella entered, bearing two dishes of trifle.
“What’s this Aunt?”
“It’s your birthday, Jenny.” She smiled and set the dishes down in front of Alec and her. “That’s still cause for celebration.”
“Hmmph. Much good turning eighteen will do me.” Jenny took up her spoon and stabbed the creamy confection. “I’m sure Mama and Papa won’t let me go to London now. They will make me stay here, hoping I’ll change my mind and marry Alec.”
Aunt Arabella settled herself down in a deep brown leather library chair. “And what does Mr. Isley have to say about this whole business?” She turned to him with kind eyes. “Setting your impassioned plea to your parents just now aside, what do you want, young man?”
Alec set his spoon down. “I believe we need to focus on how to get Jenny what she wants. To go to London, have her grand come out, go to parties and balls, flirt and dance with all the eligible men, and set her cap for the one she wants as her husband.” He raised his brows at Jenny. “Have I got that right?”
“You have indeed.” Jenny smiled in spite of herself, surprised at his accurate depiction of her Season. “How did you guess?”
“Yes, how did you know?” Aunt Arabella spoke up and leaned toward him. “You seem rather astute for one of such a young age.”
“I am almost four and twenty, my lady,” he said, a touch of impatience in his voice. “And I have the advantage of living with younger sisters who like to confide in me.” He grinned at Jenny. “That was everything Margaret said she wanted before she went to London two years ago.”
Jenny sniffed. “And now likely something I shall never do.”
Alec clasped her hands. “We will find a way to persuade them. I will speak to my father. If he can convince your father that the match between you and me will never take place, then your parents will have to let you go if they want you to marry well.”
Jenny looked deep into his earnest face, finding determination there that at once gave her hope.
“Perhaps that will help the situation, Mr. Isley.” Aunt Arabella nodded and smiled at him. “If you can stand fast in your decree not to marry Jenny, your parents may see sense. My brother and his wife, however, may be harder to sway. They have Mrs. Harmon to answer to, which is not a pleasant prospect for anyone.” Her aunt shuddered. “Your great-aunt is a formidable woman, Jenny. She’s used to getting her way and your mother still feels guilty over disappointing her so many years ago.”
“I should not have to pay for Mama’s guilt. She should feel guilty for making me do this.” Jenny’s shoulders slumped as she smoothed the sodden handkerchief out on her lap.
Aunt Arabella settled back in her chair, playing idly with her string of pearls. “Your parents are likely thinking of your welfare, my dear. Mrs. Harmon’s wealth is substantial and though its loss would not be a hardship on your father, if she left you a goodly portion because you pleased her by marrying Mr. Isley, you would end up a very wealthy young woman. Because you’re an only child and your father’s estate is not entailed, you will inherit a fortune as it is. If your great-aunt chooses to augment that amount, you could become quite an heiress.”
“Then I’m very surprised they aren’t pushing Jenny to go to London. She could likely marry better than a mere baronet.” Alec’s words were tinged with bitterness.
“There is nothing wrong with your family or title, young man.” Aunt Arabella leaned toward them, her eyes flashing. “It’s the man behind the title that matters. But I think I know why they have most happily settled on you. First, there is the great friendship between your parents. All parties would be happy to see such a match unite your families.”
“I told you that was the reason,” Jenny spoke up. Being right, however, gave her no pleasure at all.
“I also believe Mrs. Harmon was being truthful about her fear you’d act as your mother did and not marry a title at all. Best stick with a sure thing and be able to crow over your family’s new status.”
“Then what am I to do, aunt?” Jenny’s throat clenched and tears threatened once more.
“I’ve been pondering that ever since you left the table.” Aunt Arabella tapped her fingers together. “At present, your parents, the Isleys, and Mrs. Harmon are still all determined to have the two of you wed.” Her aunt shifted in her seat, her lips a thin disapproving line across her face.
Jenny seized her handkerchief again. The words sounded worse each time someone said them.
Alec’s strong hand gripped hers. “We are not going to let that happen, Lady Marbury.” His blue eyes flashed at the viscountess. “Jenny deserves her Season in London and someone who will make her happy.”
Aunt Arabella gazed at Alec, a slight smile touching her lips. She turned to Jenny. “I think perhaps a short respite from your home may be in order, my dear.”
Jenny leaned forward, shaking her head. “What do you mean, aunt?”
Aunt Arabella smiled. “If you are willing, I have got your parents to agree to let you spend the Christmas season with me at our estate in Somerset. That part of the country is lovely this time of year and you’ll be in much different society than here. We host a Christmas house party every year. Quite a lot of festivities with dancing and party games and outings.”
“But who attends, aunt?” Jenny didn’t want to get her hopes up, but she tingled with excitement from head to toe.
“Oh, there is quite a bit of society in Somerset, my dear. Some of our family, but mostly friends and neighbors, many with daughters your age.” Aunt Arabella paused and Jenny caught her breath, then frowned. There would be little fun indeed if only other young ladies attended her aunt’s entertainment.
Aunt Arabella smiled, as if reading her thoughts. “And of course several of them also have sons of an eligible age. Your cousins, Eric and Stephen, will also be home from London. I’ll ask them to invite some of their friends as well.” She laughed. “Never fear, my dear. We will see that you have your pick of young men for your Christmas Season.”
Jenny clasped her hands, her heart lighter by far than just ten minutes ago. Her gaze lit warmly on the young man next to her. “What do you think of this scheme, Alec?”
He breathed deeply and a slow grin spread across his face. “I think it sounds a perfect plan. Perhaps if you find someone else, someone you have affection for, our parents will relent and break the betrothal.”
Aunt Arabella peered at him. “You are a very understanding and gallant young man, Mr. Isley. I appreciate that you have Jenny’s happiness in mind. If only others were as much inclined.” She pursed her lips and shook her head before extending her hand to Alec. “I wish you well, and a very br
ight future.”
“Thank you, my lady.” He shifted his attention to Jenny and took her hand. “And I in turn wish nothing but your every happiness, Jenny.” He lifted her hand and kissed it.
Warmth from his lips poured through her. Startled, she sat up straighter and as he rose, searched his eyes for some clue to the sensation, but found only determination.
“Lady Marbury. Miss Crowley.” He bowed and strode from the room.
Jenny gazed at him—admiring his straight back and how the light glinted off his golden hair—still holding her hand aloft. She checked it, expecting her skin to bear a singed mark. So odd to feel such warmth from just a kiss to her hand. The sensation of intense heat lingered on her skin long after the door shut. At last she lowered her hand to her lap, rubbing the spot absently. Alec had never had that effect on her before. She glanced at her aunt, and was brought up short by the satisfied smile that graced her lips.
“Now, my dear.” Aunt Arabella leaned forward and grasped her hands, infusing even more excitement into her. “Let us put our heads together and decide which frocks you will take with you and which ones we will need to have made up in London. I intend to make sure you have the merriest Christmas ever.”
Chapter 3
Alec strode outside, calling for the family’s carriage to be sent around and sending a footman to ask his parents to meet him as soon as possible. The quicker they could leave the better. If he was mortified, what must poor Jenny be feeling?
Surprisingly, Mother and Father appeared in short order, likely as embarrassed as he by the turn of events. He helped his mother in and climbed in after his father, taking his accustomed place in the backward facing seat. They sat in silence, not even meeting his eyes.
Why had they not told him this rather important bit of information? Dash it, that one statement had set his plans for Christmas and the London Season all awry.
“Are you going to tell me what this is all about finally?” He clipped his words so short they scarcely came out. “I think I have a right to know why you’re trying to leg-shackle me at such an early age.”
His father grunted and leaned back against the worn leather seat. “Will that make a difference to your obedience? You have stated emphatically that you won’t marry Jenny.” He rapped on the trap and the carriage started.
“She really is a lovely, girl, Alec. Almost part of the family.” His mother patted his hand. “She would make you a wonderful wife.”
“Except that I think of her as one of my younger sisters. You might as well marry me off to Patrice.”
“Alexander! What a thing to say!” Mother clutched the jeweled necklace of her parure, pulling the small emeralds to and fro around her neck.
“That is enough, young man.” Father puffed out his chest, looking like nothing so much as a bullfrog getting ready to croak. “I’ve had enough of your insolence for one day.” He continued to mutter under his breath. “Ungrateful puppy.”
Alec took a deep breath and forced himself to unclench his hands. “I am not sure what you mean by ungrateful, sir, but I am bewildered as to why you have kept this such a deep dark secret. Had I grown up with the expectation, I might have been more accepting of it.”
Indeed, he might have. Jenny had grown into a very pretty girl. The hoyden who had raced around their yard, screaming like a banshee when she was ten had become, while not a beauty, still a lovely woman. He’d noticed her two years ago at Margaret’s wedding. She had stood next to his sister, hugging her and wishing her happy, when he had realized she outshone the bride with her bright blue eyes, sweet smile, and deep ebony ringlets that framed her face perfectly. He’d thought at the time that Jenny would turn all the heads in Mayfair when she had her come out.
Yet now, faced with parental displeasure if he did not marry the girl, he balked. He’d had a Season or two in London and more than one eligible young miss had taken his eye. He knew what he’d be missing next year and the next. Understood well why Jenny longed for the parties and the excitement of dancing with a partner to whom you’d just been introduced, when the only ones you’d danced with previously you had known all your life. Poor Jenny. At least he’d gotten to squire the delectable Miss Sophia Winston around the town last year before the Season ended. Golden hair, a radiant smile, and a tinkling little laugh that had made his chest hurt with the throbbing of his heart.
If she had not become affianced by this spring, he had hoped to dance with her again. Miss Winston, daughter of Lord Stonebridge, would likely have an ample dowry. If his father insisted that he marry, perhaps he could persuade him that she would be an acceptable substitute for Jenny. Alec sighed. What a mess. If news leaked out of his engagement—and Mrs. Harmon was apt to put it in the next edition of the Times—he’d have no choice but to act as a man betrothed. That would put an end to his hopes for Miss Winston.
“Crowley and I thought it best not to tell either one of you, for fear you would take an instant dislike to one another as children.” Father clenched his fists. “The plan originally was to have you escort Jenny during her come out and hope you came to like one another well enough for us to reveal the plan when there was some hope of its success.” He drew his bushy gray brows down until they almost touched his nose. “Then that harridan Mrs. Harmon had to let the horse out of the stable like this. I told Crowley he should have banned her from the house until the matter was settled.”
“I doubt it will be settled now.” Alec smiled grimly. Thank goodness Jenny seemed to be possessed of stronger mettle than he’d given her credit for. “Jenny’s refused point blank to consider the marriage.”
His father glared at him. “You needn’t sound so pleased, my boy. If she won’t have you, I’m reasonably sure no one else will.”
“Henry.” Mother grabbed Father’s arm and tugged on it. “Please don’t say another word.” She turned her gaze to Alec. “I’m sure you will find the perfect happiness, with or without Jenny.” Her brow puckered. “But you do like her, don’t you Alec? You haven’t taken her in dislike because of this, have you?”
“No, I like Jenny. I always have.” He cut his eyes from one parent to the other, his mother clutching his father’s arm, his father breathing heavily, pale as the moon. “What are you not telling me?”
“You may as well tell him, my dear. As Alec says, he has a right to know.” His mother smiled at him, although her hands shook as they pulled at her handkerchief.
“It started off as a harmless wager,” his father began, not looking at him.
Good Lord. Alec groaned inside. All the follies of the world seemed to spring from wagers of some sort.
“Crowley and I were young bucks in London for the Season. He’d taken a fancy to Judith Lansing, a beautiful girl, from a good family, with a small dowry but great prospects. All well and good, because Crowley’s family was solid gentry with a bit of money. Then the scandal broth put it out that she was hunting a title. She was pretty enough that if a lord wasn’t in desperate need of ready money, she just might make the match. And there was the hint that her aunt would be generous if she married into the nobility.”
“So what did you wager?” Alec was getting impatient with the history lesson.
“I wagered that he couldn’t get her to marry him.” His father sighed. “I had just begged your mother to marry me and she’d accepted. I guess our happiness spurred Charles on. I have no idea what he said to Judith, but the next thing I knew they were putting an announcement in the newspaper.”
“And to pay the wager, you had to pledge I’d marry their daughter?” Alec stared coldly at his sire.
“The only way to placate her aunt was the hope of their daughter marrying you and becoming Lady Isley.” His father glared at him. “Do you have any idea how much money we’re talking about, Alexander? Mrs. Harmon will settle thirty thousand pounds on Jenny on her wedding day with as much again to come to her upon her great-aunt’s death.”
The sum was staggering. Alec whistled and sank back into the
cushion. Jenny was an heiress. Correction, would be an heiress if she married him or presumably another titled gentleman. Did she even know?
“That seems like an exorbitant amount, but certainly one that could buy her almost any titled gentleman. So why would the Crowleys settle for a baronet when they could possibly make their daughter a duchess?” Alec searched his parents’ faces. They were still hiding something.
His parents exchanged a speaking glance. Perhaps now they’d tell him the truth.
“As Mrs. Harmon said, she prefers a bird in the hand after her niece disappointed her,” his father replied, meeting Alex’s eyes briefly, then twisting in his seat until the leather creaked. “And over the years, I’ve borrowed against the expectation of the marriage.”
Alec sprang upright in his seat, stunned. “Why would you do that, Father?” He shook his head, completely at a loss. “Why would you need to? The estate brings in more than a sufficient income.”
“And how would you know that?” His father snapped, crossing his arms, his frown deepening. “You’ve never even looked at the ledgers. You have no idea the problems that have plagued us for the last ten years.”
“You never wanted to share the financial side of running the estate,” Alec shot back. “God knows I’ve asked often enough for you to teach me. I will have the running of the manor one day.” Alec rubbed his temple, sensing a headache on its way. “How much did you borrow?”
“Twenty thousand pounds.”
“Good God, Father.” The amount was monstrous. Alec slumped back in the seat, his head whirling. “What possessed you to borrow such a sum?”
“There were expenses, legitimate expenses for the estate and the family.” His father pointed his finger at Alec. “And no, I don’t mean gambling debts or inappropriate wagers.”
“It seems the inappropriate wager occurred about twenty-five years ago.”
“Alexander.” His mother’s always gentle voice had sharpened. “You were not raised to be insolent to your elders.”