She had to speak though. It was just so unfair. What right did they have to prey on him?
“No one has proof. Right now, all we have are rumors and an appeal for funds from a third party.”
“My family and their servants are good, honest, upstanding Christians. Besides, we’re speaking of Jay Truitt. This is not the first nor the last time the Truitt family paid for one of his ‘accidents.’ How could you not know your own fiancé?” Priscilla flipped her coifed ringlets, ironed and perfect, but false, not Ursula’s natural locks. It didn’t matter. Simulated curls won due to the face they framed. The source, not the style mattered.
Priscilla stroked the porcelain rim of her teacup, a knowingness creeping into her voice. She was like a panther, ready to pounce, stalking, circling, batting Ursula about.
“Unless you don’t expect him to remain one for very long and are only using him in a ploy to do something even more dubious and loathsome than Jay’s own behavior.”
Bloody Hell.
They couldn’t know about the engagement plot, could they?
Ursula spotted Katherine glancing at her lap, a frown spreading through her features. Hugo. Hugo must have done something obvious. Maybe she should’ve answered his request for a meeting after all. This was the trouble with enlisting another less than dubious person. Blasted tells.
The poor man didn’t even know she wasn’t going to marry him either. Not a pleasant conversation, but she needed to have it. Sooner, rather than later. Though she’d better find an alternative for him, save him from Katherine. First thing first, though, Jay. She drew in another deep breath. Time to hold her own.
Ursula tilted her chin even as her innards disintegrated, and a staleness settled in her stomach.
Logic. Pick them apart with calm logic.
“If that was the case, and I was the type of woman you described, I wouldn’t care about the rumors nor about the Truitt family finances. Though I suppose any decent woman, no matter what the relation, should and would care about innocent people being swindled.”
The three burst into titters. Priscilla recovered first and continued her role as unappointed spokesperson.
“Innocent? Jay Truitt? And here I thought Jews were supposed to be clever.”
A low humming invaded Ursula’s ears. A swirling mix of emotions threatened to engulf all her reason. It was all too much. Her voice shook as she spoke. “Jay is a good person. He’s careful and considerate. He’d never do that and just leave a woman and child.”
“So, we are the liars?” Agnes’ voice was like iron, frozen iron, in the dead of winter. She’d scooted closer to her cousin.
Priscilla clasped her relation’s gloved hand and smirked.
Ursula pinched the skin between her thumb and pointer. She would not throw anything. She would not.
Think Ursula, think.
“I don’t know your motives, but I suspect your family needs funds. I understand things have been hard—”
“Which you people just love.” Agnes’ voice shook and her eyes flashed.
Even Priscilla glanced to the side, her brows raised at the tone.
A dig at the banks? Nunes didn’t have a monopoly and not all European banks were owned by Jews. The American banks were majority gentile.
Force us into a profession, but decry every success.
She ground her molars. “Nunes charges the same rates as all of the European banks, no matter who owns them. Everyone raised their rates after President Jackson killed the American banking industry. High interest isn’t usury, just good business, at the moment.”
“Naturally.” Agnes’ venom matched Priscilla’s. She wasn’t mousey anymore.
It was all about the money and Jay was an easy target, like her. His family, his life, his name, his reputation, not to mention that of an innocent servant who probably had no idea her name was being used, all ready to be sacrificed because Agnes’ family wanted money so they wouldn’t lose social standing. As if only the Pierponts were important.
Ursula rose and wagged a finger at the trio. “This isn’t about me. It’s about Jay and it isn’t fair and it isn’t right. Those properties should stay in the Truitt family. You aren’t entitled to them. Worse, you’re causing a rift between Jay and his parents. Don’t you see how your actions are hurting people?”
Agnes leapt to her feet as well, thrusting herself in front of Ursula so the two were inches apart, though Ursula was a good four inches taller. “Why does it matter? No one will ever find out. The Truitts will see to that. That’s how it’s done. That’s how it’s always done. Besides, the Truitts have plenty and Jay has done enough on his own to humiliate his entire family for generations to come. They deserve it.”
How dare she?
She knew nothing. Jay was a person, a human, with feelings and a soul, not to mention the most honorable man anyone could hope to meet. He thought of others before himself—to his own detriment and he would rather die than cause another person pain. Maybe other people in their circle behaved differently, but that didn’t make it right.
Ursula’s voice quaked. “It matters because he did nothing wrong. Don’t other people matter to you? He’s not who everyone thinks he is. He’s a wonderful person.”
“Oh, my stars, she’s in love with him.” Priscilla’s gasp startled Agnes enough that she turned to face her cousin, almost bouncing against the overstuffed cushions.
“Oh.”
Bollocks, infinity bollocks.
“She is.” Katherine’s laughter echoed through the room.
Priscilla grinned and grasped her friend’s hand with a squeal. “You were wrong, Katherine. You always did have quite the imagination. Hugo Middleton is all yours. She has no sense. She truly wants to marry Jay Truitt, and believes she will.”
Bile rose in Ursula’s throat. She couldn’t marry Jay. He’d never marry anyone again. Not after Sophie. She wasn’t a dullard. She wasn’t going to pin her hopes on a literal pipe dream and—she opened her mouth to speak but almost nothing came out.
“I—”
She could do this. She could speak intelligently and find a way to exit and fix everything and be—she swallowed.
“Whether or not I’m in love with him has nothing to do with the conversation. I just know he’s not the guilty party.”
“We’re back to proof, aren’t we though?” Priscilla folded and unfolded her hands. “How exactly do you know?”
Ursula shifted on her feet. There had to be some way to show, to convince them.
“I know.” She made her voice as resolute as possible.
Priscilla clapped her hands together. “This is perfect. She’s one of his conquests. Know-it-all Ursula Nunes is silly over Jay Truitt. Even better, she spread her legs for him, permitted his debauchery and thinks it’s proof of love.” No mere polite titters, the girl was in near whoops.
Katherine settled back on the seat. “Just wait until he runs off with some harlot, not you, one who is clever enough to charge. Even the Truitt name won’t be able to protect you.”
Blast them all. Ursula slammed her fists into her thighs.
“Jay will not run off with anyone. This isn’t about me. This is about the Pierponts’ lies—complete and utter falsehoods. And I will make sure none of your families ever get another cent from the Truitts.”
Blinding rage overtook her. She bent down and grabbed two sticky buns. She palmed the sweets and pulled back her hand.
No. Jay’s voice sounded in her head. You’re giving them what they want.
Ursula drew the object back, towards her mouth and gulped down a large bite.
“And I did feel sorry for you,” she said between chews. “Losing standing, comfort—that has to be difficult. Now though, I’m not even sure you deserve my pity. There’s nothing good in you, nothing good in any of you.”
Before
any of the three could respond, Ursula sank her teeth into the second sweet, turned on her heels and rushed down the hall, grabbing Rose with one hand as she fled into the carriage.
Chapter Eighteen
Something cold invaded Jay’s face, cold and wet. He blinked. When his eyes adjusted to the dim light streaming through the drapes he stared into large green eyes surrounded by white fluff. Not the Nunes he’d have wanted, but after the previous afternoon, a man could dream.
Arte yawned and the scent of rotting meat and fish wafted over him.
Disgusting.
This was why he hated animals.
“Why don’t you go back and bother her for your breakfast?” The cat didn’t answer. Arte instead jumped a second time on Jay’s chest, sinking her claws into the head of his dragon. Ridiculous beast. “I don’t care if it takes her two hours to put on all her undergarments, that’s just the way of things. It’s certainly not my fault. You belong to her, not me.”
He stroked the silky white fur despite himself.
Arte closed her eyes and nuzzled his hand. What was wrong with the creature? Couldn’t she take a hint? He sighed.
“I know, I know. Any attention right now will do.” He scratched her ears. “Just so you know, if it was up to me she’d not wear anything under her dresses, or at all and would already be ready to feed you.”
Now that was an image. He placed a hand behind his back ready to indulge just a little, but Arte had other ideas. She stretched her claws again. He was surprised she didn’t draw blood. “Fine. I’ll get up. You know there’s a full staff? Why aren’t you bothering any of them?”
Still grumbling, he rose to pull on his trousers. He stumbled to the window and pushed open the shutters. A mistake.
The air floating in was already beyond warm. If only they could all go naked. With deep regret, he buttoned his shirt. He stared at his frock coat but couldn’t quite muster the energy or desire to even attempt it. Same with the necktie. Half undone was better than fully, wasn’t it?
He wrinkled his nose at his stockings. Ah, to be able to go barefoot. Not possible. The servants would think him mad, or worse suspect things.
Presentable...ish, he strolled down the hall, Arte in tow. When they reached the stairs, the cat yowled like a banshee.
Jay sucked in a breath. Just like her owner, always had to get her way. He bent down, and the creature leapt into his arms in a flurry of stray hairs. At least his shirt was white.
“You’re a real bother, you know that?” he told Arte as they descended.
The cat nuzzled his tie. Before he could scold her, the front door creaked. Jay started as Urs’ uncle stepped through the threshold, a manservant stumbling behind with a case. He met Jay’s eye and frowned.
Jay’d interacted with the man only once, the day after he arrived, when he’d been shoved into the office to sign some sort of Jewish document regarding his betrothal to Urs in front of the butler and another man. The thing was in Hebrew or some similar language. Levy hadn’t even greeted him or shook his hand during the entire event.
“Bernard, what are you doing back so early?” Judah’s voice boomed as he entered the foyer. Within moments servants ran through the house, many half-dressed, grasping outer garments and offering assistance. “I thought you were going to your club after prayers.”
“Yes, well,” Bernard muttered. “I spoke to the men in the congregation and certain things have come to their attention. Quite a feat since most don’t bother with the gossip in gentile society. After the information I gleaned from my youngest two children, I felt it might be prudent to involve myself a little more in the affairs of my household, despite your prior admonishments.”
Jay swallowed. What exactly had Isaac and Rachel seen or worse, heard? They were out the entire time the prior day, weren’t they?
“Your children are in good health and no danger. Nothing else, especially as it relates to me and my life is any of your concern.” Judah’s voice shook with undisguised anger.
Jay swallowed, and the two men stood nose to nose. Yes, Urs had hinted at some chasm between her father and uncle, but not open hostility. How could Urs not know all the background? How hadn’t she dug and nagged and pressed until she found the truth? Where were her terrier instincts?
“It’s always my concern. I run this family, in many ways. You may run the business, but anything else—” Urs’ uncle threw his hands in the air. “Your sister is my life and once, you were my best friend, like a brother, not a brother-in-law.”
“Once, but that changed, didn’t it?” Judah turned his back to the other man.
Jay held as still as he could. This was becoming interesting.
“Not on my side.” Bernard’s exasperation vibrated through the house. He ran around his brother-in-law so they faced each other once more. “I still care about you.”
“Just me.” Judah folded his arms.
“Not just you. I’ve always cared for the girl.” Bernard reached in his pocket and shook a paper at Judah. “And based on what my children have said, there’s cause for concern. She’s attracting attention. The gossip pages can’t get enough of her and Mr. Truitt. Her name hasn’t been mentioned, but if it is...there’s trouble, lots of trouble there...trouble you can’t shield her from. If anyone outside our community does any digging...”
“You’re wrong.” Judah’s voice was cold.
Jay mopped his brow. As curious as he was, the room no longer held enough space for him. He had to find an exit. Perhaps he could just back out. No one would notice. He’d find Urs and figure out what was happening—what to do—warn her.
“Naïve as ever, Judah. It’s different for a female and different here. We have to live with these people and they have certain rules. The past is only half of it. Even without the danger and ruin its exposure will bring, there’s serious jeopardy for her.”
Levy wagged a finger at his brother-in-law. “You may work with J.T. Truitt, but you of all people should know that the child cannot be determined by the parent. Besides, I know the Hales.”
Jay froze.
No.
“Bernard, always thinking the worst of everyone.” Judah balled his fists, a dangerous note in his voice. “Always so concerned, always sorting, judging...”
Were they to come to blows? Urs’ uncle poked a finger into the other man’s chest. “Better than sticking my head in the sand. If the girl is anything like you—”
Judah pushed the hand from his chest, his face red. “Well, how would that be possible? I believe you made an argument along those lines once upon a time.”
“That was not the gist of the argument and you know that. You were in pain and I was ‘concerned,’ if you want to use one of your words. Concerned for you and I identified those specific concerns, but—” Bernard Levy’s hands shook. “I may only see her once a year, but from what I’ve seen and my children have said, she’s exactly like you.”
Jay leaned over the rail, peering to see the letter. The floorboards creaked. Both men turned and glared at him.
“And I mean, Judah, look at him.” Levy jutted a thumb in Jay’s direction. “What are you doing, wandering around my house, coatless?” the man asked.
Color rose in Jay’s face. He’d never been treated with such blatant disregard. What gave Levy the right? He’d never done anything to the man.
“It’s hot, Bernard, very hot. Don’t concern yourself with Mr. Truitt. He’ll be gone soon enough. We’ve been over this before, it’s Hugo Middleton she wants and once she gets him out of her system, we’ll do what you suggested. One of those young men will please her, the match will benefit the business and all will be well.” Judah sucked in breath. “Her inevitable jilting of Mr. Truitt will overwhelm the gossip columns, so the other matters will never come to light.”
Bloody Hell. Why did the honest summary of the scheme stab so mu
ch? Everything said was fair and true but somehow—Jay bit his lip. Doubts invaded every corner of his brain.
“He’s a headache for his own family.” Bernard wrinkled his nose at Jay, staring at his shirt. What...? He glanced down. Blast. Misbuttoned. Finger shaking, he corrected as Urs’ uncle clucked his tongue.
“Why does it matter?” Judah shrugged. “If only you could’ve gone to Newport with my sister, you’d have never known and could’ve saved us all the hysterics. After the season you’ll get your way. She’ll marry a Beer or Rothschild.”
“I’m trying to prevent a disaster,” Bernard snapped. “You’re as blind and foolhardy now as you were then. This time though, it’s not only your life on the line.”
“Since when do you care about her? I remember certain suggestions you made and if I’d taken those we’d never been standing here arguing about this in the first place.” Judah’s voice was a full yell.
Jay shrank against the stair, forgotten. Nothing good could come of this argument. Even in his confusion that was clear.
“You’re putting words in my mouth.” Bernard waved his hands. “I didn’t suggest any particular course of action. I asked you questions regarding your motives, your state of mind. I made a few points. Your sister and I never harbored any ill-will towards the child.”
“But you never accepted us. We’ve lived in Delaware for nineteen years.” Weariness wafted from Judah’s voice.
“That was certainly never my solution, you know that. You chose that on your own.”
Jay’s eyes widened. A real explanation for a nagging detail of how Urs and her parents ended up in Delaware.
“You left us no choice.” Judah’s eyes glimmered like coals. “You and the community. You all made me choose. What else was I supposed to do?”
Bernard closed his eyes and sucked in a breath as if he was trying to regain control. “It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done and that’s not the issue on the table. He is.” He waved towards Jay.
“Do you really think the Truitt family would permit anything to get out of hand?” Judah pointed another finger at Jay.
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