The Shocking Secret of a Guest at the Wedding (Millworth Manor)
Page 19
“Immediate action was called for.” He set his chin in a determined manner. “And action I took.”
She stared in disbelief. “You’re proud of what you just did, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am.” He grinned.
“Don’t you understand—”
“I understand that I hear your mother and Simon returning.” He shook his head. “And I understand this will be even more complicated should they suspect you and I are not the blissfully engaged couple we appear.”
She choked.
Lady Sallwick led the way back down the stairs. “I have a few questions for the two of you.”
“Yes, Mother.” Theodosia heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I imagine you do.”
“As much as I would like to hear the answers,” Simon said, edging toward the door. “I think it’s best if I took my leave.”
A few minutes later, Simon escaped for lack of a better word. Jack envied the man. But apparently if one was going to rescue a fair maiden, one was going to have to face the consequences. And the dragon.
“Now then,” Lady Sallwick began the moment the door closed behind the other man. “Where did you meet? Who is your family? How long have you known one another? What is your income—”
“Mother!” Horror sounded in Theodosia’s voice and a blush washed up her face.
“It’s quite all right, Theodosia,” Jack said. “Your mother has only your best interests at heart.”
Theodosia scoffed. “My best interests?”
“Of course I do.” Lady Sallwick paused. “Why, I know nothing about this man aside from the obvious. He’s an American. His apparel is of good quality. He’s not unattractive—”
Jack flashed her a grin. “I believe you said I was handsome enough a few minutes ago.”
Amusement shone in her eyes but her expression remained cool. “Did I?” She shrugged. “I don’t recall.”
He laughed.
“There is nothing amusing about this, young man,” the older woman said in a hard tone. “You intend to marry my daughter and there are any number of assurances I need before I . . .” Her brow furrowed. “Channing, did you say?”
“Mother.” A warning sounded in Theodosia’s voice.
Lady Sallwick ignored her. Her eyes widened with realization and she gasped. “You’re the American everyone is talking about. You’re Basil Channing’s son, aren’t you?”
“You needn’t make it sound like an accusation, Mother.”
Jack nodded. “I am.”
“The one raised in the wilderness by wolves?”
Theodosia groaned.
“You’ve met my mother then?” Jack said lightly.
Lady Sallwick ignored him as well and continued to stare. Jack could almost see the cogs and flywheels of her mind turning like a fine Swiss watch. “Then you’re the Earl of Briston’s heir.”
“So it would appear.”
“I see.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, her perusal ongoing although Jack was fairly certain she was no longer seeing an American caught in what might be considered a compromising situation with her daughter but rather the future. Theodosia was right. He hadn’t thought this through. “How . . . perfect.”
Theodosia stared at her mother. “Perfect, Mother?”
“Yes, of course.” Her mother nodded firmly. “This is a brilliant match, Theodosia. In spite of the circumstances we find ourselves in at the moment.” She cast a chastising look at her daughter. “Which I am willing to believe are completely innocent despite appearances.”
“Completely, Mother,” Theodosia said in a resigned tone.
“He is exactly the kind of man you should marry. Well connected, heir to a respectable title, and even if one didn’t know the financial resources of his family, one can tell just by looking at him that he is not lacking for funds.”
Jack’s brow rose. “Then I meet with your approval?”
“Oh my, yes.” Lady Sallwick beamed and held out her hands to him. He promptly took her hands in his. “Welcome to the family, Mr. Channing.”
Jack grinned. “Thank you, Lady Sallwick.”
“You have my heartiest congratulations and my blessing.”
“Thank you.” Jack tried to pull his hands away but the older woman held fast.
“I cannot wait to announce your engagement.”
“No.” Panic shone in Theodosia’s eyes.
“Not quite yet,” Jack said quickly.
Lady Sallwick frowned and dropped his hands. “Why on earth not?”
“Well . . .” Theodosia nodded at her mother. “Explain it to her, Jack.”
“Very well.” Explain what? “It’s really quite simple.” He struggled for an acceptable reason. Or any reason.
“Yes?” Lady Sallwick’s brow arched upward.
“An announcement at this time would be, oh, premature,” Jack said.
“I assumed that much. What I don’t understand is why.” Suspicion sounded in the older woman’s voice.
“It just seems best to me . . .” he began. “To us that is . . .”
“Yes?” Lady Sallwick prompted.
“Well . . .”
“Out with it, Mr. Channing.”
“Yes, Jack.” Theodosia’s tone was pleasant enough but there was a distinct gleam of revenge in her eyes. “Out with it. After all, my mother deserves to know the truth.”
“And I wouldn’t dream of keeping it from her.” At once the answer struck him. “Or any mother, for that matter. Lady Sallwick, as a mother, surely you can understand why we don’t want to announce our engagement to the world until I am able to inform my own mother and the rest of my family. As she and my grandfather reside in New York, and given the slow nature of mail between our two countries, it will take several weeks. So you can see why I am reluctant to announce our engagement publicly until I hear from my family.”
“Very good, Jack,” Theodosia said under her breath and favored him with an admiring smile. “Nicely done.”
“You do have a point, I suppose,” Lady Sallwick said.
“Beyond that, my aunt, Lady Briston, is planning a grand ball on New Year’s Eve to, well, introduce me to their friends and society as a whole I suppose. In fact, Theodosia is handling the arrangements.”
“A coming-out party of sorts.” Lady Sallwick nodded. “Excellent idea.” She glanced at her daughter. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“My apologies, Mother.” Theodosia shrugged. “I thought I had.”
“I would have remembered if you had. Goodness, it isn’t every day a new heir—”
“And it did seem to us,” Jack continued, “that there would be no better time than that to announce our engagement.”
“Yes, I can see that.” Lady Sallwick thought for a moment, then nodded. “That would be most appropriate and completely unexpected. It would add a lovely element of surprise to the evening. People would talk about it for months. It would certainly go a long way toward everyone’s acceptance of you as well. Why, I think it’s a splendid idea. Simply splendid.”
“Thank you,” Jack said modestly. “But it was Theodosia’s idea.”
“Excellent plan, my dear girl.” Lady Sallwick cast her daughter an affectionate smile. “But then I always knew you were a clever child.”
“Thank you, Mother,” Theodosia said wryly.
“Now then, I believe I shall retire for the evening.” Lady Sallwick heaved a weary sigh. “It’s been a most exhausting day what with all the surprises, good and bad.”
“Oh, then Simon’s visit was a surprise?” Theodosia asked.
“Of course it was.” Her mother shrugged. “Oh certainly, I’ve been inviting the man to come for some time but I had no idea he would make an appearance today.”
“That together with the fire,” Jack began.
“And don’t forget the flood,” Theodosia added.
“I would never forget the flood.” Her mother sniffed. “The flood was the worst of it. All that . . . water.”
“Ah well. If Simon had come when I first invited him perhaps things would be different now but I can’t say I’m disappointed. And he may well be right.” Lady Sallwick cast them a brilliant smile. “Perhaps things do have a tendency to work out the way they are supposed to in the end after all.” She nodded and started back up the stairs. “I shall leave the two of you to say good night.” She glanced back at them over her shoulder. “You are leaving now are you not, Mr. Channing?”
“I was on my way out the door when you arrived.”
“See that you remain on that path.” She continued up the stairs. “Good evening, Mr. Channing.”
“Good evening, Lady Sallwick.”
Theodosia’s gaze followed her mother. “She didn’t used to be like this,” she said softly. “Before Father died she was really quite pleasant and oh, easygoing I suspect is the right term for it, even a bit flighty. She never seemed to have a care in the world. Now, she feels the need to control everything around her, especially me.”
“Extremis malis extrema remedia,” Jack said quietly.
“Extreme remedies for extreme ills? Desperate measures for desperate times?” Theodosia nodded, then her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by desperate times? Our times are certainly not desperate.”
“Maybe they are for her, with your father dead and the loss of the family title. Her life, her expectations changed entirely. That would be enough to scare anyone, I would think.” He shrugged. “Perhaps all she wants is for her life to return to the way it was.”
“Unfortunately, the only way to get what she wants is for me to make an appropriate match.” Her tone hardened. “I have no intention of marrying at all let alone simply to better our lot in life. Nor am I a prize to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.”
“Oh, but you are.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “A prize, that is.”
“And I thought I was a gift.”
“You are both a gift and a prize.”
“Goodness, Jack.” She pulled her hand from his. “Don’t think you can charm your way out of this.”
He gasped in feigned dismay. “I would never . . .” He grinned. “Is it working?”
“Perhaps a little.” A reluctant smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“Ah well, then.” He shook his head in a mournful manner. “I shall have to do better.”
She laughed, then shook her head. “At least you have bought us some time.”
“Time?”
“To come up with a way out of this mess and do it without gossip and scandal. I have managed to avoid scandal thus far in my life but it hasn’t been entirely easy.” She shuddered. “And I really would prefer not to lose another fiancé, thank you very much.”
“Another what?”
“It’s not important at the moment.” She waved off his question. “What’s important is that the New Year is still five weeks away.”
He drew his brows together. “I’m not sure I like my fiancée calling our engagement a mess.”
“Nor would I if it was a real engagement preceded by a genuine proposal. As it is not . . .” She shrugged.
“Of course not.” He ignored an immediate stab of something that might have been disappointment. Or regret. “I shall see you tomorrow then.”
“Tomorrow? Oh no.” She shook her head. “That will never do. Not with my mother here. She’ll be watching us like a bird of prey ready to pounce on a field mouse.”
“Then I shall play the dutiful fiancé,” he said staunchly. “We do have to decide on a course of action. Perhaps we could go for a stroll in the park?”
“It is dreadfully cold and wet for a walk in the park.”
“Well then . . .” He thought for a moment. “An inside stroll at the British Museum perhaps. Or a gallery.”
“Not a bad idea, really,” she said thoughtfully. “It’s not at all unusual for me to go to a gallery or museum in the afternoon without benefit of a chaperone. But I don’t know . . .”
“We do have to convince your mother we are a legitimately engaged couple.”
“I suppose but . . .”
“Besides, you did promise me your assistance and I still don’t know my dukes from my counts.”
“England has no counts,” she said dryly.
“See? I need your help.”
“Apparently.” She nodded. “Very well then, Jack, tomorrow it is. And tonight I shall try to come up with a way to dissolve our engagement before it all gets out of hand.”
“And we wouldn’t want that.”
“No,” she said firmly, “we would not.”
He leaned closer and spoke softly in her ear. “I would kiss you again if I wasn’t concerned that your mother might appear at the top of the stairs at any moment and demand that I marry you at once.”
“Why, isn’t that the most interesting thing, Jack.” She turned her head and gazed into his eyes, her lips close to his. “Even with my mother at the top of the stairs, I am fairly certain I would kiss you back.”
His gaze slipped to her lips and the memory of how delicious they felt against his washed through him. “I do hate to miss that.”
“As do I.”
“I should go.”
“I believe you said that earlier this evening and yet here you are.”
“I know.” He studied her for a moment. “It appears I find it remarkably difficult to leave you.”
“Oh.” The word was little more than a sigh. “My . . .”
“And yet . . .”
“And yet . . .” She drew a steadying breath and took a step back. “Good evening, Jack.”
“Good evening, Theodosia.” He smiled and again picked up his bags.
She opened the door and he stepped out into the night.
“Jack.”
He turned back to her. “Yes?”
“I didn’t need to be rescued but thank you for doing so nonetheless.”
He grinned. “It was entirely my pleasure.”
“I know.” She smiled and closed the door.
Jack inhaled the cold, sharp air and grinned. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep what was obviously a ridiculous, self-satisfied grin off his face. Why, one might think he was actually engaged to the magnificent Lady Theodosia Winslow.
In truth, he was practically, almost engaged to Miss Lucinda Merryweather. His step faltered. No, given all she said to him he had every right to consider himself free. Still, he should make certain he had not misunderstood. He would write to Lucy at once.
In the meantime, he was the fraudulent fiancé of the most fascinating woman he’d ever met. She was an intriguing mix of stubborn self-reliance and concern for propriety. She was indeed an adventure and for one moment, whether she admitted it or not, he’d been her hero. It was enough to make any man grin like an idiot. Even though they were now both in an awkward situation fraught with all sorts of complications and the possibility of scandal, he didn’t care. He was thoroughly enjoying himself and he would be her hero again if necessary. There was something about coming to the rescue of the fair Theodosia that was exhilarating and exciting and . . . right.
He did indeed have a great deal to be thankful for tonight.
Even if some of it wasn’t entirely real.
Chapter Thirteen
The following day,
The British Museum . . .
“. . . and so,” Teddy continued, “I do think this is the best course. We continue this farce of an engagement until after Christmas and then—”
“Christmas?” Jack slanted a thoughtful look at her. “I’d almost forgotten about Christmas.”
“Nonsense, how can you possibly forget about Christmas?”
“I don’t know.” He smiled and turned his attention back to perusal of the sculpture of some Egyptian deity or king or a rat catcher for all Teddy knew or cared. She suspected he hadn’t forgott
en at all. He struck her as the kind of man who would use Christmas as the perfect excuse for extravagant and delightful surprises. Even if she wasn’t really his fiancée, it was a lovely idea.
She and Jack had been wandering the Egyptian galleries at the British Museum for a good half an hour now but it was nearly impossible to drag the man’s attention away from remnants of a long-dead civilization to discuss the very pressing matters of the here and now. She had no idea bankers were so fascinated by antiquities but then she suspected Jack was not a typical banker. No, he was the son of the dashing, adventurous Colonel Channing and with every passing day, the similarities in mannerisms and character between father and son grew stronger. She had no idea if Jack was actually changing or if his father’s influence was bringing a part of himself long buried at last to the surface.
“Christmas is a month from today, Jack, and you do need to give it some attention.”
“Do I?”
“Of course you do.” She huffed. “You are staying in England for Christmas, unless you’ve changed your mind.”
“No, I intend to stay until the New Year.” He moved away from a huge granite torso of Ramses II, according to the placard, to a black granite seated figure, apparently also of Ramses II.
“Have you given any thought to gifts for the family? Or at least for your father?”
“I have no idea what to give a father for Christmas.” He shook his head. “Do you?”
A thought struck her and she stared at him. “Have you written to your mother that you’ll be here for Christmas?”
“I think so.” He shrugged. “I really can’t recall.”
“Jackson Channing.” She resisted the urge to stamp her foot. “What on earth is wrong with you today?”
“Nothing that I can think of. Why? Have you noticed something?”
“Yes! You haven’t paid a bit of attention to anything I’ve said. Furthermore, you’re not behaving at all like the rational, responsible banker that you are.”
“You mean the stodgy, straitlaced banker that I am.”
She ignored him. “Instead you’re acting like a—”
His brow rose. “Like a what?”
“I don’t know exactly but it’s most disconcerting.”