A Most Peculiar Season Series Boxed Set: Five Full-length Connected Novels by Award-winning and Bestselling Authors

by Michelle Willingham

  “Do you indeed?” Annabelle crossed her arms in front of her. “And what might that be? Surely you don’t suppose that apologizing to Lord Hawthorne will do any good.”

  Whatever he had in mind must be equally distasteful, Annabelle sensed from his demeanor. She could not help but be touched that he was willing to make such a sacrifice for her sake.

  “If I thought it would help, I would beg his pardon on bended knee.” Jack’s voice rang with conviction she could not doubt. “But I suspect it would have the opposite effect.”

  “What do you intend to do then?” she asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Jack hesitated, clearly struggling with himself to put his abhorrent plan into words. “I need to marry you, of course.”

  Chapter Nine

  “HAVE YOU GONE quite mad?” That evening after putting the baby to sleep, Annabelle repeated her original response to Jack’s marriage proposal. “It is an even worse idea than your plan to wed Sarah’s mother.”

  “Why?” he demanded, stung by her contemptuous refusal. “It seems likely we will never find Sarah’s mother. I have exhausted all my possibilities, as has Rory. I doubt Gabriel’s lady love could have borne a child without her old watchdog of a father finding out. Even if the child does not belong to any of us, I love her as if she were my daughter. You have cared for her as devotedly as any mother, so why should we not become a family?”

  Why did he bother asking when he knew the answer? Jack strode to the drawing room window and stared out at Bruton Street. Spring rain spattered the puddles on the cobblestones. Annabelle did not want to marry him because he wasn’t Frederick and never could measure up to the standard set by his cousin.

  “Besides,” he continued when she hesitated, “marriage between us will restore your reputation and quell any gossip about us.”

  It would also ensure Annabelle never had to go back to that squalid set of rooms or struggle to support herself. Was the prospect of marriage to him so much worse than a life of poverty and loneliness?

  “Do you believe it will stop the gossip?” Annabelle sighed. “I fear it will only divert it to a new channel.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Jack turned back from the window to confront her. It disturbed him to discover how much he wanted Annabelle to agree to his plan and how much her resistance grieved him. If he had any sense, he ought to let the matter drop, rather than humiliating himself by arguing and pleading. But there was the baby to consider and Annabelle’s situation. Whether or not she would admit it, Jack was certain marriage to him would be her best hope for the future.

  “It means people will say I took advantage of your situation to ensnare the heir to an earldom.” Her tone had a sharp edge of impatience. “There was plenty of gossip when I married Frederick. Because I did not have a title or a large dowry, everyone assumed I must be a fortune hunter. To wed my late husband’s successor when I am barely out of mourning will only confirm that suspicion in everyone’s mind.”

  “You said you did not care about Society’s opinion,” he challenged her, “only the regard of me, my friends and Sarah. Is that true or not? Make up your mind!”

  Annabelle flinched at the harshness of his tone, which Jack regretted. He sounded far too much like his uncle. That was no way to win her over.

  “It is easier to disregard the opinions of Society when one is not confronted by them at every turn,” she replied. “As Sarah’s caregiver, I could live quietly until the gossip dies down. As your wife and future countess, I would have no choice but to take my place in Society—a place many people believe I have no right to.”

  Jack understood what she meant and he could sympathize with her feelings. Somehow it soothed his irritation to know Annabelle was not simply making excuses because she could not abide the prospect of marrying him. “No doubt there are a great many people who believe I have no right to my uncle’s title. You could be one of them for all I know.”

  “I am not!” Annabelle shot to her feet, her delicate hands clenched and her warm brown eyes blazed with amber fire. “I know you have it in you to be a fine earl, just as you have become a wonderful father to Sarah. Anyone who says otherwise is a fool!”

  There could be no doubt of her fierce sincerity. This was Annabelle as he remembered her from their youth—the girl whose constant, unconditional belief in him had made it possible to ignore the harsh criticism of so many others in his life. He wanted that Annabelle back but feared pushing her into marriage might drive her away forever.

  He consciously softened his tone. “If you trust me to be a good earl and a good father, can you not believe me capable of being a good husband? I promise to do everything in my power to make you happy.”

  ”I know you would.” Annabelle’s clenched fists relaxed and the blaze of indignation in her eyes muted to doubt and confusion. “I wish that was all it took to make a happy marriage.”

  She looked as if she meant to say more when Gabriel suddenly appeared. He was dressed in a most subdued fashion, without even his usual bright waistcoat.

  “Are you on your way to a funeral?” Jack asked, though he knew full well such ceremonies were never conducted in the evening.

  His friend paused in front of a looking glass and fussed with his cravat. Gabriel’s handsome features were drawn into an anxious frown. “It may be my own funeral this evening after Father and Mother get through with me. They heard about the baby and they have summoned me to Cheviot House to answer for my behavior. At the very least I fear they will force me to choose between a naval commission and holy orders.”

  The thought of Lord Gabriel Stanford at the helm of a battleship was almost as absurd as that of him preaching virtue from a High Church pulpit. In spite of Jack’s tumultuous feelings, or perhaps because of them, his lip began to twitch and laughter bubbled up inside him. He strove to suppress it, as he would on any other solemn or sad occasion, but that only intensified its power. He glanced at Annabelle, hoping a reminder of their disagreement might quench his perverse amusement.

  Instead her lips were pressed tightly together and her whole frame quivered. When her gaze met his, her eyes dancing with bottled-up mirth, he could not hold his back. He began to laugh and so did she. Soon they were roaring wildly, helpless to contain it.

  Gabriel turned from the mirror with a scowl. “This is no laughing matter! You have never heard my father go on about me bringing disgrace on the Stanford name. He is terrifying, I tell you!”

  By a massive exercise of will, Jack managed to master his mirth. “Forgive me, Gabriel. I did not mean to make light of your ordeal.”

  “Nor I.” Annabelle forced her features into a repentant expression, but her lips twitched ominously. Jack suspected it would take very little to set either of them off again.

  “It was just the thought of you in a vicar’s cassock...” She clapped a hand over her mouth and her shoulders shook.

  Jack averted his eyes before the sight of her pushed him back over the edge as well. “Your father sounds like my Uncle Knightlow. I can almost recite his ‘disgrace’ speech by heart.”

  “That is not the worst of it.” Gabriel shuddered. “Mother will shake her head and look as if I have stabbed her in the heart. I’d sooner be horsewhipped.”

  “If it is any help,” said Jack, “tell your parents I mean to take permanent responsibility for Sarah. That should deflect any gossip away from you.”

  He expected his friend to show some gratitude, instead Gabriel bristled. “That is all very well. But what if she isn’t yours? What happens then?”

  Before Jack could reply, he seized his hat and stalked away, shutting the door forcefully behind him.

  “What was that all about?” Jack shook his head.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Annabelle murmured. “He wants the baby to be his, just as much as you want her to be yours.”

  Could Sarah be Gabriel’s daughter by Miss Brennan? Somehow the possibility affected Jack like a threat. “I told you how unlikely that i
s. If Gabriel wants to settle down and have a family he should look for a wife.”

  “That is easier said than done for a man without a fortune,” Annabelle reminded him.

  “Then he should seek a wife who has a fortune. Many of those would be happy to marry into a duke’s family.”

  “Perhaps they would.” A chiding note crept into Annabelle’s voice. “But I do not think your friend could bring himself to wed a lady for her fortune or for any other reason besides love.”

  She clearly approved of Gabriel’s impractical approach to matrimony. Would she have been so resistant if the penniless young wastrel had proposed they wed and raise little Sarah together?

  Jack’s earlier urge to laugh fled as fast as it had come. “There are plenty of good reasons for people to marry besides love. Those reasons will stand the test of time with a steady glow, rather than blazing and burning out, leaving nothing but ashes of regret.”

  Annabelle’s face paled to the color of ash. She no longer looked as if she wanted to laugh. “Is that what you think of love? Then no wonder you have taken such pains to avoid it all these years. Now I understand why you are prepared to marry me or some other woman who means nothing to you.”

  She headed out of the drawing room, clearly in no mood to discuss the matter further with him

  “I was not referring to you and Frederick,” he called after her. “He loved you from the time we were young. That devotion never wavered any more than yours did for him.”

  Annabelle refused to turn and face him, but she did pause at the entrance to the dining room, her shoulders bowed with the weight of her grief. Could he play on that to persuade her that marriage to him might not be so distasteful after all?

  “Since you were fortunate to have such a singular connection,” he continued, “you assume everyone else can and should have it as well. You do not understand how rare that is. For most people, love strikes with swift intensity, turning their world upside down. But it can disappear just as fast, sometimes turning into equally violent loathing. If two people rush into marriage during the first flush of infatuation, they may find themselves yoked together for life while time and closer acquaintance poison those feelings.”

  Still Annabelle kept her back to him. When she replied the rustle of her voice was colder than he had ever heard it—like a January wind through the hedgerows. “The depth of your cynicism is quite breathtaking. I can only assume you speak from very painful experience.”

  “Of course I do.” Jack broke his longstanding reluctance to speak of that old, deep hurt. He must keep Annabelle talking or she would leave and never give him another opportunity to persuade her to accept his proposal. “Did you ever hear how I came to live with my uncle’s family?”

  She nodded and turned slightly, though not enough to face him. “The servants at Eastmuir said your father was killed in a duel over your mother. Then she ran away with the man who shot him.”

  Hearing the scandalous destruction of his family reduced to such a few words struck Jack like a well-aimed pistol shot. As he had done for so many years, he concealed his pain behind a bitter jest. “For once the servants’ tattle was perfectly accurate, fancy that! My father was wildly in love with my mother—enough to wed a woman of whom his family did not approve. But look how it ended. I want something better than that for Sarah. Don’t you?”

  “Of course. Who would not want that for any child? I wish there were some way I could alter the past so it never happened to you.” The sorrow and pity in her voice worked their way under Jack’s skin like stinging nettles. “Then perhaps you would not have such a warped view of love. You would not have spent all these years running from it.”

  “My view of love is not warped!” he snapped. “It is rational—which is more than I can say for love itself. What is more, I have not been running from it, quite the contrary. Do you know how many women I have bedded? I have learned from experience that passionate love does not last. The hotter it blazes, the faster it burns out or flares into something ugly and dangerous!”

  His denial burst out instinctively. But even as he spoke, Jack found himself questioning whether there might be some truth to Annabelle’s accusations. Had something in him been damaged by the failure of his parent’s marriage and the upbringing he’d suffered as a result? Had it compelled him to seek out transient involvement with women who were no more capable of deeper feeling than he? If all that was true, what did his sudden, potent attraction to Annabelle signify?

  For the next few days, Jack mentioned nothing more to Annabelle about his marriage proposal. Did it mean he had given up on the idea? she wondered.

  While Gabriel took his turn helping her with the baby, she toyed with the notion of asking whether Jack had spoken to him about the idea. Part of her was reluctant to raise the subject with anyone for fear of stirring up matters that were best forgotten. Yet curiosity plagued her like an intense itch in a place that was impossible to scratch.

  Annabelle told herself she should be relieved if Jack had given up on the idea of marriage. Yet somehow it vexed her that he had been so easily discouraged.

  There’d been a time when she would have given anything to have Jack propose to her. Even after Frederick had made her a suitably romantic offer of marriage, it was his cousin she’d truly wanted. Postponing her answer, she had sought Jack out with the excuse of asking his advice. She’d poured out much of her heart to him, confessing her doubts that she and Frederick were suited for one another.

  She’d hoped that, faced with the prospect of losing her to his cousin, Jack would suddenly realize he cared for her after all. Instead he’d ignored her most blatant hints about her feelings and all but pushed her into Frederick’s arms. Her heart had broken that evening. But after a night of anguish, she had tried to make herself believe Frederick’s love could heal the wounds Jack had unknowingly inflicted. Too late she discovered love did not work that way.

  Now she must take care not to let her foolish hopes and desires persuade her that another one-sided marriage could be anything but a mistake for both of them... and perhaps for little Sarah.

  The baby’s infectious chortles roused Annabelle from her brooding. She glanced over at Gabriel, who sat on the sofa with the child on his lap, making faces to amuse her. His performance lacked its usual energy, but Sarah did not appear to mind.

  Annabelle had scarcely seen Jack’s friend since his interview with the Duke and Duchess. Was that the cause of his deflated spirits?

  Putting her own troubles aside, she resolved to cheer him up, or at least offer a shoulder upon which he could unburden himself. “Were your parents very angry when you saw them the other night?”

  Gabriel nodded and pulled a wry face that made the baby laugh so hard she began to hiccough.

  “Dash it all!” He handed the child over to Annabelle. “I cannot do anything right.”

  “Nonsense.” She rubbed the baby’s back. “You are too severe on yourself. You have gotten so much better at handling Sarah than you used to be and she adores you.”

  “Thank heaven someone does.” Gabriel heaved a sigh, but Annabelle suspected her reassurance comforted him more than he let on.

  “What exactly did your parents say?” she persisted. “I know the interview cannot have been pleasant but at least you are too old to be punished.”

  “I wish that were true.” Gabriel shook his head. “Mama has threatened to host a ball!”

  His tragic air was so at odds with his words that Annabelle could not suppress a chuckle. “How terrible for you! What does she hope to accomplish with that?”

  “It may sound amusing to you...” Gabriel shuddered. “But I assure you it will be an evening of torment. My mother believes the best way to combat gossip is to hold one’s head high and behave as if nothing is wrong. What more public way to do that than with a ball? I gather it is also meant to demonstrate that I have the support of my family. It might make people think twice before spreading tattle about me.”

&nbs
p; By now the baby’s hiccoughs had subsided. She snuggled into Annabelle’s arms and gave a wide yawn.

  “I cannot deny your mother’s ideas make sense. Yet it must be a great deal of trouble and expense to host a ball. Your parents must love you a great deal to go to such lengths on your behalf.”

  She expected her words to comfort him but instead Lord Gabriel shot to his feet and began to pace the drawing room. “They are not acting on my behalf but to defend the reputation of the family! I have never been anything but a disappointment to my parents and a bone of contention between them. I never understood why until the other night.”

  His voice trailed off, almost as if he’d forgotten Annabelle was listening.

  “But you do now?” she prompted him softly.

  She knew from experience that it helped to understand the reasons others acted the way they did. Her aunt and uncle had treated her more like a servant than a family member because they felt her mother had married beneath her, rather than upward like Aunt Abigail. Jack could not allow himself to love any woman because his mother had betrayed his father and destroyed their family. Knowing their motives helped her feel less at fault, less unworthy of respect and love.

  Gabriel gave a grim nod. “I was a fool not to have guessed before, but one does not like to think of one’s parents in that way...”

  “What way?”

  His aristocratic features twisted in a grimace of horror that would have sent little Sarah into gales of laughter.

  Understanding dawned on Annabelle. “Oh, that way.”

  “I overheard them arguing when I went back to retrieve my hat. It seems there is a good reason why I do not resemble my father or any of the Stanfords. From what I could gather before I crept away, I am the product of an indiscretion of my mother’s. The duke agreed to raise me as his own to prevent a scandal. It explains why Mama rather spoiled me. I always thought it was because I was her youngest. It also explains why His Grace never approved of anything I did.”

  Annabelle could imagine how such a revelation might turn a person’s world upside down. She suddenly felt a kinship to Lord Gabriel that she never had before. Like her and Jack, he knew how it felt to grow up unwanted.