For the Love of Lynette

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For the Love of Lynette Page 12

by Jillian Eaton


  “Good job, little sister.” Standing, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her tight against his side when she bounded up off the stool and all but flew into his arms.

  “Do you truly think so?” she asked anxiously. Her thick blonde curls bounced as she shook her head from side to side. “I got a bit lost in the middle and may have missed a note or two. But overall it went quite well. Much better than it has in practice.”

  Making a mental vow never to attend one of Annabel’s practices, Nathaniel kissed the top of her head before letting her go. “You made it uniquely your own.”

  The dimple high in her right cheek flashed as she smiled. “I did, didn’t I?”

  “Splendid!” Rebecca cried. “Positively splendid, my dear.”

  “Yes, it was very good,” Harold said belatedly. “Very good indeed.”

  There was an awkward moment of silence. A moment that should have been filled with Adam’s compliment if he were with his family as he should have been instead of gallivanting about only God knew where.

  As he thought of his twin, Nathaniel’s jaw hardened. Didn’t Adam know the distress he was causing their parents with his endless gambling and rakish ways? Instead of being content with what he’d been given, he’d chosen to focus on what could never be his. Instead of making something of himself, he’d made bad decision after bad decision, forcing everyone around him to suffer the consequences of his careless actions.

  Including Lynette.

  Lovely, sweet, stubborn Lynette… She twisted him up inside as no other woman ever had. What began as a sensible means with which to get them both what they wanted – a wife who would leave him to his own devices and a husband who would rescue her from financial ruin – had turned into something else the moment they’d kissed.

  The taste of her lips… the silky texture of her hair… the softness of her skin…

  He grew hard just thinking of it.

  Thinking of her.

  Nathaniel had wanted their union to be uncomplicated. A business arrangement, he recalled with a wry twist of his mouth. Wasn’t that what he had said? And it had been… until he nearly took her innocence on the dining room table.

  He was not a man accustomed to losing control. Not of his household staff, not of his money, and certainly not of his emotions. And yet that was precisely what had happened once he’d sipped the sweet nectar of Lynette’s lips.

  Oh, he’d been bloody careful not to show his loss of control on the outside. But within… within he had been desperate for her to accept his proposal.

  And Nathaniel didn’t like feeling desperate.

  He also had no intention of turning into the sort of weak, simpering husband his friend John Baloch had become. If being in love meant never being able to enjoy oneself, then Nathaniel wanted no part of it.

  When he and Lynette were next together, he would make sure to inform her of everything there marriage was going to be… and everything it was not. Aside from wearing a ring on his finger, he had no intention of changing anything about himself once they were wed. He would still go out as he pleased. Gamble as he pleased. Visit the occasional whorehouse as he pleased. As long as he met his obligations, Nathaniel saw no harm in indulging in a bit of vice every now and again and he did not need – nor want – a wife who felt inclined to dog his every step.

  Thankfully, Lynette seemed to be practically minded. She’d certainly brought up nothing about love, for which Nathaniel was grateful.

  As he’d told John, love was for fools and fairytales… and Nathaniel was no more a fool than he was a prince charming.

  “I have an announcement to make,” he said, drawing the attention of his family. “It is why I came here today.”

  “I thought you came for my recital,” Annabel said with a pout.

  “That too, pigeon.” It was a nickname he’d used for her ever since they were children. Neither one could remember what had started it. “But I also have something to tell all of you. Something I hope will please you.”

  Setting aside the sheet music she’d been reviewing with Annabel, his mother clasped her hands together after a quick glance at her husband. “Yes dear, what is it?”

  “I am getting married.”

  For a moment, there was only stunned silence.

  And then…

  “Oh,” Rebecca gasped before she ran to Nathaniel and threw her arms around his neck. “I thought this day would never come.” Pressing her face into his chest she began to cry, leaving him to awkwardly pat her back while he looked to his father for assistance.

  Harold’s broad shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug as he looked at his wife before meeting Nathaniel’s gaze. “Well, what did you expect her to do? Congratulations, son. I have to say it is about bloody well time.”

  “Language, Harold,” Rebecca sniffled.

  “Who is she?” Annabel demanded. “What is her name? What does she look like? How did you meet her? Does she have any brothers or sisters? Do I know who she is?”

  Having expected a flurry of questions, Nathaniel gently guided his mother to the chair beside his father he’d recently vacated and offered her his handkerchief.

  “T-Thank you,” she said, dabbing at her eyes before she crumpled the embroidered handkerchief into a tiny ball of white. “My dear, dear boy, is this simply the very best news a mother could possibly receive. This calls for a celebration. Margaret! Margaret, are you there? Oh, where is my bell?”

  “Mother,” Annabel exclaimed.

  “What?” Rebecca looked at her daughter. “What did I say?”

  “You must stop summoning the servants as though they are dogs. I will go get Margaret. You sent her out to the garden to pick a bouquet of sunflowers, do you not remember?”

  “Yes, yes quite so,” Rebecca said with a vague wave of her hand. “Ask her to have Cook begin preparing dinner. Lamb, I think, with breaded mushroom crust. And she can bring a fruit and cheese platter in here. Tea as well, although best make it coffee for your father. For you, dear?” she asked, looking at Nathaniel with such love and admiration it made him feel as though he were the prodigal son returned. “What would you like?”

  “Coffee is fine, thank you,” he said.

  “Make it two coffees.”

  “I heard him, I heard him.” Annabel flounced to the doorway where she turned and pointed a finger straight at her brother. “Do not say a single word,” she warned, “until I return.”

  The corners of his mouth twitching, Nathaniel solemnly nodded. “Not a word.”

  Waiting until Annabel had left the room, he went to the pianoforte and leaned his weight against it, resting an arm along the glossy surface and casually crossing his legs at the ankle. “Are the servants her latest crusade, then?”

  For as long as he could remember, Annabel had always been campaigning for one cause or another. His personal favorite was when she’d refused to eat meat for an entire year, driving poor Cook to distraction trying to come up with alternatives. Now it seemed her interests had shifted to the treatment and welfare of the working class. All things considered not an unworthy cause, but hardly one she’d be able to influence or change. Not that he was about to tell her that.

  “Heavens yes,” his mother said with a long, suffering sigh while his father merely shook his head and looked pained. “She is insisting we give them holidays off as well as Sundays. Can you imagine? Am I supposed to prepare dinner for Christmas? I should think not! Next she will be asking for your father to up their wage. I swear my children are going to be the death of me. Oh, not you my dear.” Eyes shining with adoration, she beamed at Nathaniel. “You are positively perfect in every way.”

  “I am back!” Annabel said breathlessly as she all but flew into the music room in a flurry of pale green skirts. Catching herself on the back of their mother’s chair, she frowned down at Rebecca. “What about me? Aren’t I perfect?”

  “Yes, dear. You are my perfect daughter.”

  “I am your only daughter,” An
nabel said with a quick roll of her eyes before her attention refocused on Nathaniel. “Well?” she asked. “Out with it, then. Tell me all about my future sister-in-law. How old is she? When can we meet her?”

  Having anticipated the plethora of questions his unanticipated engagement would garner, Nathaniel took his time in answering, wanting to be tactful as possible with his responses. “Her name is Miss Lynette Swan. Her father was a baron and her mother the daughter of a well-respected viscount.” ‘Well-respected’ was a bit farfetched if only because he’d never met Lynette’s grandfather and knew nothing about him, but Nathaniel intended to do everything in his power to ensure his parents did not find Lynette wanting, for as much her sake as their own.

  “Was?” Annabel asked.

  “Both of her parents are deceased.”

  “How dreadful!” Rebecca exclaimed, covering her mouth with one gloved hand. “The poor dear.”

  It was, he supposed, as good a start as any.

  “We actually met three years ago at a ball and have only recently rekindled our courtship.” As a general rule, Nathaniel did not lie to his family. Adam did enough of that for the both of them. But he could hardly tell his parents and Annabel one thing while he told Society another, which meant the only way to salvage Lynette’s ruined reputation was to dance along the edges of the truth.

  “Why have you never mentioned her before now?” Annabel asked with a skeptical tilt of her head.

  Little brat, Nathaniel thought without rancor. Leave it to his sister to ask the pertinent questions. Despite being the youngest member of the family, she didn’t miss much. Truth be told, he suspected she paid far closer attention to everything - not to mention everyone - than she let on.

  “I was not planning on asking for her hand in marriage. At least not until I’d had an opportunity to introduce you to her. The proposal...slipped out.”

  That, at least, wasn’t a complete lie.

  “How romantic,” his mother sighed.

  “Indeed,” his father agreed gruffly.

  “Hmmm,” his sister said.

  Giving Annabel a searing glance that clearly said ‘best be quiet if you know what’s good for you’, Nathaniel continued to mercilessly play on Rebecca’s sympathetic heart. He’d debated whether to reveal Lynette’s past or keep it to himself, but had ultimately decided there would be use trying to hide it when his mother would no doubt hear of the gossip the very first time she mentioned his engagement to any one of her many friends. “After her parents died, Miss Lynette fell on some...hard times. I fear some people within the ton have taken advantage of her unfortunate situation to spread rumors which are, quite frankly, completely exaggerated.”

  That gave Rebecca pause. “What sort of rumors?”

  “The usual sort small-minded people like to spread when they’ve nothing better to occupy their time,” he said with a thin smile.

  “Oh.” Looking only half-convinced, Rebecca’s brow puckered as she considered the ramifications of welcoming a daughter-in-law into the family whose reputation was far from sterling. “I do not mean to pry, dear, and forgive me if I am lingering on a touchy subject, but how do you know the rumors are, as you said, completely exaggerated?”

  “Because I was there on the night in question,” he said easily, “and I was the man who accompanied Miss Lynette out to the gardens when she became a touch lightheaded. Those with wandering tongues and spiteful natures made the innocent encounter into something it was not, besmirching Miss Lynette’s good name and ruining any chance she might have of making a favorable match. Something I was completely unaware of until we recently crossed paths and I remembered how enchanted I had been by her.”

  “People can be so cruel sometimes,” Rebecca said with a sorrowful shake of her head. “I simply cannot imagine what your poor fiancé has gone through. What a remarkable story you shall have to tell when you are married!”

  “Yes,” Annabel said with a mischievous grin, “what a creative - er, I mean remarkable - story.”

  “We must begin planning at once!” Rebecca clapped her hands together. “A spring wedding would be beautiful, but I think summer would be best. Less of a chance of rain and much more time to prepare. Were you thinking in town or out in Devonshire? Devonshire,” she decided, answering her own question before Nathaniel could say so much as a word. “That way you can be married in the village church and we shall have a grand reception at the estate. Tea and pastries to start, I think, with a full buffet of meats and cheeses and pie for dessert. Won’t that be lovely, Harold? I say Harold, where are you going?”

  Having been caught in the act of attempting to sneak from the room - an amusingly regular habit of his - Nathaniel’s father stopped in his tracks and pretended to straighten a painting on the wall. “Just giving this a nudge, my dear. It was a bit crooked.”

  Rebecca’s eyes narrowed. “Indeed. Well, as I was saying-”

  “We have already discussed it and we are going to wed in the fall,” Nathaniel interrupted.

  “The fall?” She pursed her lips. “It is a bit unorthodox, although it does give us more time to plan. The middle of September would be-”

  “This fall,” Nathaniel clarified.

  His mother’s mouth dropped open. “T-this fall?” she sputtered.

  “Yes.”

  “But you cannot be serious!”

  “He looks serious to me,” Annabel grinned.

  “But - but that does not give us any time at all! No. No, no, no,” Rebecca said with four decisive shakes of her head. “I am afraid that simply will not do. Weddings take time to plan and coordinate. There is a guest list to put together, not to mention dress fittings and pie tasting and floral arrangements. We will need six months at the very least. Even though a year would be preferable,” she said with a sniff.

  “If you would like to plan the wedding, you may do so. However, Miss Lynette and I will be married in one month, not six and certainly not twelve.” An entire year spent discussing what color tulips to use? He shuddered to think of it. “I am procuring a special license tomorrow. There will be no bans read, nor any invitations sent out. This is to be a small, private affair with only close family in attendance.

  Rebecca looked ready to faint. “A s-special license? No bans? N-no invitations?”

  “None,” he said firmly.

  “Does this mean I do not have to wear a frilly dress?” Annabel asked hopefully.

  “You can wear whatever you like.”

  “Brilliant!”

  “I need to sit down,” his mother moaned. “Harold, help me sit down.”

  Rushing forward, Harold glared at his son over the top of his wife’s head as he assisted her into a chair, but not wanting to put himself in the middle, he remained silent.

  “Miss Lynette has two younger sisters,” Nathaniel went on. “I am going to move them all into Dunhill at the first opportunity, where they will reside until the start of the Season.” Using money he’d earned through gambling and investments, Nathaniel had purchased Dunhill, a moderately sized country estate of over three-hundred acres, two years ago. Although he would one day inherit the family estate, he’d wanted something of his own and after giving Lynette’s concerns in regards to their living situation due consideration, he had decided Dunhill would be the perfect place to begin their unconventional marriage. Mostly due to the fact that if she strained his nerves he would be able to easily return to town while leaving her behind, and a little because he found country life to be noticeably more agreeable than the hustle and bustle of town life. “Given that I cannot be there with Miss Lynette and her sisters alone until the time that Miss Lynette and I are married, I would like you and Annabel to accompany them.”

  Annabel’s entire face brightened. “Does this mean I can skip the Season?”

  “No,” he said matter-of-factly, “it does not.”

  “But you just said-”

  “We will be back in London well before the start of the Season.”

 
; “Bollocks,” his sister muttered under her breath so only Nathaniel could hear.

  Lifting a warning brow, he turned to his mother who was anxiously fanning herself with a crinkled piece of sheet music. “I know this may not be exactly what you envisioned, Mother-”

  “Hardly,” she snipped.

  “-but it is what will happen. I will have a carriage bring Miss Lynette and her sisters to Dunhill in three days’ time and we will be wed by the end of the month.”

  “I simply do not understand the rush,” Rebecca said with a frustrated wave of her hand. “It took you this long to become engaged. What is a bit more time spent preparing for a proper wedding?”

  “Because we wish to be wed before the Season begins.”

  “Yes, but why?” As tears flooded her eyes, she flapped the sheet music with increased vigor. “I j-j-just do not understand.”

  “Now look what you’ve done.” Breaking his silence, Hugh stood up and glowered at his eldest son. “You have upset your mother.”

  “I can assure you that was not my intention,” Nathaniel said stiffly.

  “Whether it was what you intended or not, it is what you have done. Now there, my dear,” he said in a soothing tone as he awkwardly patted her shoulder. “Nathaniel does not mean any harm. He is merely impatient to be a married man once and for all.”

  “But - but I haven’t even met her,” Rebecca wailed.

  “Goodness,” said Annabel, covering her ears. “That sounds worse than my recital.”

  “You heard Nathaniel,” said Harold. “He wants you and Annabel to accompany his fiancée to Dunhill where you can have all the time you’ll need to get to know your future daughter-in-law.”

  Rebecca dashed at her eyes. “But we just came from the country. Annabel has dress fittings and I have planned several luncheons-”

  “Which can all be rescheduled,” her husband assured her. “Do not fret, my dear.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Rebecca said as she used Nathaniel’s handkerchief to blow her nose. “You weren’t the one who planned everything!”

  “No, but now you get to plan something else. Something better. A wedding, my dear. You get to plan a wedding.”

 

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