The Shocking Secret of a Guest at the Wedding (Millworth Manor)

by Victoria Alexander

  Delilah’s eyes narrowed. “How?”

  “The best way to handle gossip is to control it. And the best way to control it is to start it yourself.” Beryl took a bite of her toast. “I’ll come up with something.”

  Delilah stared in horror. “What?”

  “I don’t know yet.” Beryl took another bite of toast and chewed thoughtfully. “Perhaps something along the lines of long-lost lovers, separated by fate and distance and misunderstanding. That sort of thing.” She glanced at Jack. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to let people think your mother has been in an asylum for the past thirty years?”

  “Most certainly not.” Jack stared at his cousin. “My mother may be many things but she’s not mad.”

  “Are you sure?” Aunt Bernadette asked hopefully.

  “Yes,” Jack said firmly, although mad was one of the kinder things he had thought about his mother’s actions since he had learned the truth about his father.

  “I don’t like that either.” His father’s hard gaze pinned Beryl’s. “Should I hear so much as a mention of madness—”

  “Goodness, Uncle Basil, it was only the first thing that came to mind.” Beryl huffed. “I shall certainly think of something better. The last thing we need is anyone suspecting actual lunacy runs in the family.” She thought for a moment. “Amnesia is always nice though.”

  Jack drew his brows together. “Amnesia?”

  “There is nothing like amnesia to make even the most absurd story sound legitimate.” Delilah nodded. “The best part is that when anyone questions a detail the answer is always, “Oh, but she didn’t remember, you see.”

  Aunt Bernadette nodded in agreement. Teddy seemed to be the only one among the women who didn’t appreciate the idea of amnesia. Perhaps lunacy did run in the family after all.

  “I’m not sure I like the idea of people thinking my mother has had a faulty memory for thirty years.” Indignation sounded in Jack’s voice. “And I don’t like the idea of gossip at all.”

  “Come now, Jack.” Beryl cast him a pitying look. “Unless you’re prepared to let the entire world know your mother deceived your father about your very existence, which I must say casts her in an even worse light than if she were truly mad, we do need to come up with some sort of story.”

  “Perhaps something closer to the truth?” his father murmured.

  “I shall think of something plausible.” Beryl’s gaze shifted to Jack. “I know all this is awkward for you, I heard your comments from the door. But I must say I was pleased to hear you finally speak out. You scarcely said more than a few words last night. I was beginning to think, in spite of your resemblance to Uncle Basil, that you weren’t related after all. No one in this family ever hesitates to speak their mind.”

  “It was difficult to get a word in last night,” Jack said wryly. “But I will try to do better.”

  Beryl smiled in a thoughtful manner. “Yes, I suspect you will.”

  “Teddy, dear, why don’t you go look in that book of yours and see if a New Year’s Eve ball is a possibility,” Aunt Bernadette said. “It is silly to even consider if Teddy can’t manage it. Of course, we could do it without her . . .”

  “I’ll check on the date,” Teddy said quickly and stood. “It should only take a few minutes.” She turned and took her leave.

  “I know we are more than capable of arranging this ourselves, Mother,” Delilah said in a quiet voice. “But Teddy is my dearest friend and an event like this will only strengthen her reputation and increase demand for her and—”

  “I know, dear,” Aunt Bernadette met her daughter’s gaze.

  Delilah’s eyes widened. “You do?”

  “I know far more than you give me credit for.” Aunt Bernadette reached over and put her hand on Delilah’s. “I have always thought of Teddy as another daughter and I will do all that I can, whenever I can, to assist her.”

  Jack had no idea what they were talking about but then his father and uncle’s puzzled expressions said neither did they. It struck him that it would be quite some time before he knew the histories and backgrounds of the various players in this new world. The secrets and mysteries that were common knowledge in this family.

  Still, there was one mystery he could solve right now.

  “If you will excuse me,” he said and got to his feet. “I’ll be right back.” He turned and started after Teddy.

  “Where on earth is he going?” his aunt’s voice trailed after him.

  “I suspect, Mother, the answer to . . .”

  He caught up with Teddy at the main stairway. She was already halfway up the stairs. “May I speak with you for a minute?”

  Her eyes widened. “I really don’t have time right now. I do need to check my schedule if your aunt’s brilliant idea has any chance of coming to fruition.”

  “I understand that but I promise, I’ll be brief.”

  She paused, then sighed. “Very well then.” She came back down the steps to his level. “What is it?”

  “Why don’t you like me?” he said, then cringed to himself. He hadn’t meant to sound quite so, well, pathetic.

  “I don’t dislike you.”

  “But you don’t like me either.”

  “Nonsense.” She scoffed but her objection didn’t ring true. Not to him anyway and, given the uncomfortable look in her eyes, not to her either.

  “Have I done something to offend you?”

  “No, of course not.” She waved off his question.

  “If so,” he continued, “it was unintentional on my part and you have my sincere apologies.”

  She hesitated, then sighed again. “You really have nothing to apologize for.”

  “If my behavior in some way—”

  “Not at all. You were quite . . . charming.”

  “I was?” She thought he was charming? And wasn’t that unexpected.

  “Yes.” She nodded. “If that’s all—”

  “It’s not.” He studied her closely. “I thought that last night, well . . .”

  “Last night?” Her brow arched upward. “Are you referring to our minor adventure?”

  “Well, yes, to our dance and our talk.”

  “One and the same, aren’t they?”

  “I had a very nice time with you, Teddy. In fact, it was one of the best parts of the evening for me. You and I, well, it seemed, maybe just for a moment . . . I thought . . .” He drew a deep breath. “And I thought you enjoyed it as well.”

  “Goodness, Jack.” She shrugged. “It was only a dance. We agreed, as adventures went, it was minor. Less than minor really as I danced with several gentlemen last night.” She paused. “But yes, I did enjoy it.”

  “And yet, in spite of that, today you act like I am the last person you want to ever see again. I want to know why.”

  “Very well then.” Her voice sharpened. “Last night, while knowing full well my connection to this family, and while claiming to prefer honesty to dishonesty, you proceeded to mislead me.”

  He frowned in confusion. “How did I mislead you?”

  “All that nonsense about your story being long and convoluted—”

  “It is.”

  “And that the end has yet to be decided.”

  “It hasn’t.”

  “And refusing to give me your name.”

  “But we agreed that made it more of an adventure.” His father was right, women were incomprehensible.

  “Admittedly dancing with a handsome, dashing stranger might well be considered an adventure, a minor adventure, but when one discovers that stranger is hiding a fact of great importance that affects the lives of my dearest friend and her family, one can’t help but feel, from the moment you asked me to rescue you to the moment you vanished, you had some sort of . . . of . . . of ulterior motive.”

  Obviously this lovely creature was as mad as the rest of them. He shook his head in confusion. “Ulterior motive?”

  “Yes!”

  “And what might that be?”
>
  “I don’t know,” she said in a haughty manner.

  He stared at her for a long moment. He hadn’t lied to her, not once. He didn’t think he had misled her either, not really. Certainly he had been vague but for her to be so irate with him made absolutely no sense. Unless . . .

  He smiled slowly. “You did like me.”

  “Honestly, men are all the same.” She rolled her gaze toward the ceiling. “And you are as arrogant as the rest of them.”

  “Arrogant? Me?” He widened his eyes in surprise. “I’ve always thought I was one of the least arrogant men I know.”

  “Then your circle of acquaintances must be very small.”

  “I don’t think you liked me last night out of any sense of arrogance.” He leaned closer. “I know it because I liked you, too. And today, I still like you although for whatever reason, today you don’t like me.”

  “Don’t be absurd. I said I don’t dislike you.”

  “You also said I was handsome and dashing.”

  “That was no more than a simple observation,” she snapped. “After all, you look very much like your father. And even at his age, the colonel is still quite attractive and perhaps the most dashing man I have ever met.”

  He chuckled. “But you didn’t say it about my father, you said it about me.”

  “Very well then.” She heaved a frustrated sigh. “You are handsome and dashing just like your father. And, exactly like your father, you are an outrageous flirt as well.”

  He stared in disbelief. He had never considered himself the least bit flirtatious. “Am I?”

  “You know full well you are.” She scoffed. “You are an adventure. My God, how long did you practice that?”

  “I’ve never said that before in my life.” Indignation rang in his voice.

  “Well, it certainly sounded like you had.” In spite of her words, doubt flickered in her eyes.

  “And yet.” His gaze locked with hers. “You seemed to have been quite flustered by it.”

  “Rubbish.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t the least bit flustered. I simply had other matters on my mind, that’s all.”

  “One of which being that you liked me.” He grinned.

  “I wish you would stop saying that.” Her fists clenched at her side. “Will you let the matter drop if I allow that there is the most minuscule possibility, that for the briefest of moments last night, there was perhaps a chance that I might have liked you?”

  “Absolutely not.” He laughed, obviously a mistake.

  She glared at him, turned, and started back up the stairs.

  “Admit it,” he called after her. “Last night you liked me.”

  “I will do no such thing!”

  “My God, you’re stubborn.”

  “Thank you!”

  “And one more thing.”

  She stopped in midstep, turned, and stared down at him. “What?”

  “I liked you last night and I like you today.” He shook his head. “God only knows why.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “But I think it’s probably because, in spite of your obvious dislike, which I am fairly sure I didn’t earn, I still think . . .” He met her gaze firmly. “You, Lady Theodosia Winslow, are definitely an adventure.”

  She stared at him for a long silent moment. At last, a slow smile spread across her lovely face. Her green eyes flashed. “I know.”

  She nodded and continued up the stairs, the bustle of her dress swaying with every step.

  Jack watched until she disappeared from sight. In the span of less than a day this woman had called him mysterious, secretive, intriguing, handsome, dashing, flirtatious, charming, and arrogant. As far as he could recall, and he did think he would remember that kind of thing, no woman had ever used those words about him. He was usually described as . . . nice.

  Jack considered himself a rational, logical, sensible man. A man who routinely dealt with facts and figures. He sank down on the stairs and considered the matter. The facts here made no sense whatsoever.

  Fact number one: for whatever reason, he wanted Teddy to like him. It made no particular sense but there it was. Facts that made no sense could be discarded for the moment.

  Fact number two: while he was confident she had liked him last night, when he was a stranger, today it was obvious she did not. Therefore one might think it was the revelation of his identity that had affected her view of him. Which in itself was odd as the Channing family appeared pleased at the discovery of his existence. So that made no sense either and again could be set aside.

  Fact number three: she claimed he had misled her and further charged that he had an ulterior motive, which was absurd. He’d had no intentions of misleading her. It simply hadn’t seemed wise to give his name at that particular moment. Besides, he was enjoying the, well, the romance of it all he supposed. She wasn’t the only one dancing with an attractive stranger.

  Now that he thought about it, when he had been introduced to her, and to everyone else from the day he met his father, he had introduced himself as Jack. His father called him Jack but he hadn’t introduced himself as Jack since he was eight years old and had bid farewell to childish dreams of adventure. That he did so now was interesting. Until this moment, he wasn’t sure he had even realized it himself.

  Was it possible that something as simple as what name he chose to be known by could change his entire life? No, of course not. The very idea was absurd. Besides, there were any number of other factors that had recently changed his entire life.

  He had come to England without any particular plan in mind, which in itself was unusual for him. He’d had no idea how long he would stay. Now, of course, he would have to remain at least until his aunt’s ball. To leave before then would not only be rude but would adversely affect his relationship with his new family. Besides, Teddy would be arranging the ball and they’d have to spend a certain amount of time together. He’d write to his grandfather and let him know he would be staying longer than he had expected. He ignored a twinge of guilt at not wanting to write to his mother.

  Ten days ago, he was Jackson Quincy Graham Channing, great-grandson of the founder of Graham, Merryweather and Lockwood Banking and Trust. A solid, sensible man not known for impulse or reckless behavior. Now he was Jack Channing, heir to the Earl of Briston and the son of a man of travel and adventure.

  Of course he was still the same man. Wasn’t he? And more to the point—did he want to be?

  Jackson Quincy Graham Channing would never have been called mysterious or flirtatious or intriguing. And he was certainly not a man of adventure. Banking was in his blood.

  Jack Channing was another story entirely. And wasn’t his father’s blood flowing just as strongly in his veins as his mother’s?

  Perhaps he’d accept the duties of the next earl or possibly he’d eventually return to the bank. He had no idea at the moment, nor did it seem to matter. He was the son of a man of adventure and it was past time he had an adventure or two of his own.

  And he knew exactly what—or rather who—his first adventure would be.

  Chapter Seven

  Three weeks later, November 1887,

  The Explorers Club,

  London . . .

  Teddy made a few final notations in the book that was as much an appendage as her arms or her legs in the course of a social event. Tonight’s Explorers Club Ball was no exception.

  Teddy’s mother had secured the commission for the ball but, as had become her custom, had begged off actually attending, and assisting, because of a conflicting engagement. An engagement Mother said was crucial for her to attend. After all, one did need to keep up with the comings and goings of society if one was to be of assistance to those in society who might need it. Mother was a great deal like a wolf cutting an innocent lamb from the flock.

  Teddy stopped a waiter headed for the ballroom and suggested he fill the glasses on his tray more than halfway. At this point in the evening, supper, accompanied by endless speeches by ea
ch and every one of the club’s ruling body, had concluded and dancing had begun. The ball would continue for another few hours but, for the most part, her work was done. She could, indeed, she was expected to make an appearance now that would be strictly social. While ordinarily she wouldn’t have thought twice about it under other circumstances, tonight was different.

  He was here.

  Teddy had scarcely given Jack Channing a second thought in the three weeks since she’d left Millworth Manor. Or rather she’d tried not to give him a second thought although it was extraordinarily difficult to do so. For one thing, Lady Briston had come into London four times thus far to discuss the New Year’s ball. Admittedly, Teddy had used the ball as an excuse to leave Millworth earlier than she had planned, within a few hours after Lady Briston had announced her brilliant idea. Given her abrupt departure, it was understandable that the older lady would wish to talk about the ball. Although she did tend to talk as much, if not more, about her newly discovered nephew.

  Did Teddy know that Jack was the youngest vice-president in the history of Someone, Whosit and Whomever Banking and Trust? Teddy had heard that, yes. And was Teddy aware that Jack had distinguished himself in his studies at some prestigious university Lady Briston couldn’t for the life of her remember but was most impressive nonetheless? Why no, Teddy was not aware of that. And that he was considered financially astute, even brilliant? No, Teddy was not aware of that either. Or that while this was Jack’s first trip outside of America, he was quite interested in extended travel and hadn’t Teddy long expressed an interest in travel as well? And wasn’t that a coincidence? Teddy had smiled weakly, agreed it was a remarkable coincidence, and firmly steered the discussion back to the guest list.

  Still, it was very nearly impossible to dissuade Lady Briston from a course she was determined to follow. As subtle as the older lady thought she was, there wasn’t a doubt in Teddy’s mind that her closest friend’s mother was determined to bring Teddy into the family.

  One did wonder if her nephew was amenable to that.

  Even if Lady Briston hadn’t been relentless in the singing of Jack’s praises, Teddy still found him lingering in the back of her head. Like an annoying melody one keeps humming even if one doesn’t care for it.