The Debutante Is Mine (20 page)

J
ack left London and rode to his mother’s house. He needed advice that only her unique perspective could offer.

The hours gave him time to think and time to wonder what was happening with Lilah in Surrey. He hated this uncertainty. He hated not knowing how to proceed. And he hated the news that Vale had delivered—Ellery was Lilah’s perfect match.

No
. While Jack didn’t know the viscount’s intentions toward Lilah, he knew Ellery was an honorable man. Yet none of that mattered because Jack felt in his heart that Lilah was his.

But was that enough?

By the time he arrived, dusk had fallen, and Bellum needed a good rest. Exhausted and weary as well, Jack left his Destrier in the care of the stable master.

The fieldstone cottage with green shutters and a cedar-shake roof was a welcoming sight. Jack had purchased this for his mother shortly after leaving school. At the time, he’d made enough money for her to keep a cook and a maid as well. Now, she could have her choice of any house and any number of servants, but she said she preferred to live a simpler life.

On his way across the lawn, his mother came out through the whitewashed kitchen door, her sand-and-silver-colored hair tumbling out from beneath a matron’s cap, her gaze curious, her mouth smiling.

“What gift has brought my son to me this evening?” She opened her arms wide.

As always, he embraced her heartily, lifting her to her toes. She’d grown plump in the past years after he’d begun making his fortune. Her life was easier now, and she always had bread with her broth, in addition to anything else she wished. “I know not. One minute I was in London, and the next thing I knew, Bellum had brought me here.”

“Aw . . . such a sweet lie.” As he set her down, she patted his cheek. “Now for the truth. Those worry lines on your brow tell me that you are troubled.”

He shrugged. “It was a long ride. Nothing more.”

“Very well,” she said with a sigh that suggested she did not believe him. But instead of pressing, she merely linked her arm with his as they walked inside.

Then later, as the evening progressed, and he’d had more than his share of wine with his broth, he told her of Lilah. Not of what his intentions were but merely stating that he was acquainted with a young woman whose circumstances were forcing her into a life not of her choosing.

“Would there have been any advice or assistance you would have wanted at that time in your life?” he asked.

Mother was quiet for a moment, her gaze leaving his to stare into the cozy fire. “There is something I am obligated to tell you,” she began, her voice quiet. “As you know, the reason that your father and I separated was because he needed to marry an heiress in order to secure monies for the earldom. Up until that point, his family was fine with our arrangement. Yet they would not stand for having the heir to an earldom married to his mistress.”

“I remember,” he growled, the words bitter on his tongue.

“But what I did not tell you was that your father and I ran away together.” She shifted in the chair, seemingly uncomfortable, and eventually met his gaze. “We drove to Gretna Green and eloped in secret.”

“Eloped?”

She offered a tentative nod and swallowed. “Within a month, his father discovered what we had done and had our marriage annulled. A scathing letter from the earl arrived, informing us that our union was unlawful. Enraged, your father left to confront his father, but before he could, his father—your grandfather—had a heart seizure and died. With John’s mother devastated, and his younger siblings grieving, your father remained behind to see to their well-being.”

Jack was trying to wrap his thoughts around this startling news. What his mother had suffered was even worse than he’d imagined.

“By the time John returned, a month had passed. He had not, as I’d hoped, addressed the issue of our marriage to his remaining family. Confessing this, he’d asked me to have patience and wait for a suitable mourning period to pass. I felt affronted. Unimportant,” she explained, her voice rising in indignation, even after all this time. Then a pained look crossed her face. “I’d already begun to suspect that I was carrying his child. Yet after the way I’d been treated by my first husband and society after his scandal and subsequent death, I could not bear the thought of your father forcing me to play the mistress in confinement.

“So I demanded that he marry me once more, or we could never be together. And when he asked for understanding, instead I used our love against him. All the secret fears that lovers confess when they believe they are in a safe harbor—I used them as weapons, turning our love into the bitterest hatred. It was no wonder that he chose to leave, and I made him promise never to return,” she finished, her voice breaking.

Jack sat forward in the chair, short of breath, and suddenly feeling as if the one person on whom he’d always counted had betrayed him. “If you were married, then that means . . . ”

“You are legitimate. Or at least, you would have been, if not for the annulment before your birth.”

L
ilah returned to London later that evening, just as Aunt Zinnia and Juliet were donning their hats in the foyer, in preparation to leave and dine with Mrs. Harwick.

“It was a long journey, wasn’t it, dear,” Aunt Zinnia said, her typically stern voice softer now. “If you’d prefer, we could all stay in and talk about your visit with your mother.”

Juliet took notice as well, moving closer and placing a comforting hand at Lilah’s shoulder. “We could have cups of chocolate and pieces of cake for our supper.”

That sounded truly divine. A night of staying in and drinking cups of warm chocolate normally would have been Lilah’s remedy of choice. Yet at the mention of Mrs. Harwick’s, Lilah instantly thought of Jack. There was a possibility that he would have been invited as well. And seeing Jack was the only remedy her heart required.

“Actually, if it wouldn’t be too much of a bother, I should like to go to Mrs. Harwick’s as well and put this day behind me.” Far, far, behind her.

Unfortunately, when they arrived at Mrs. Harwick’s, Jack was not there. Nor did he arrive at any time during dinner. Neither did Thayne. Instead, it was just the four of them, chatting away about recent gossip. Though Mrs. Harwick, Aunt Zinnia, and Juliet carefully veered wide of anything relating to Winthrop’s announcement at Tillmanshire’s party or to the Season’s
Original
.

By the time they adjourned to the parlor, Lilah could no longer bear it. She had to know. “Was there anything of note in this morning’s
Standard
?”

“Of note?” Mrs. Harwick asked, her eyes blinking for four counts, as if a metronome controlled her lashes.

“There was that fascinating tidbit about the scalloped lace spotted on the cuff of Lady Amberdeen’s sleeve,” Aunt Zinnia added. “Four tiers of it, mind you. On a
sleeve
. Needless to say, it caused quite a stir.”

Juliet remained quiet, seemingly distracted by the tassel at the end of the pillow beneath her arm.

“Was there any mention of the Season’s
Original
?” There. She’d said it, and now the question must be answered.

Mrs. Harwick and Aunt Zinnia exchanged a look. Juliet cleared her throat and offered, “There was.”

And then the room fell silent again.

Lilah stood and placed her hands on her hips. She’d had enough of politeness, and meanness, and everything else in between.

“I would just like to know who was named.” Her voice cracked under the strain of her emotions. “Miss Ashbury?”

“No, dear,” Aunt Zinnia said. “No one was named the
Original
.”

“What do you mean? The committee always names the
Original
after the first month.”

“Usually, yes,” Mrs. Harwick added. “But not always.”

Juliet brushed her hands over her skirt and lifted her gaze. “The
Standard
announced that the anonymous committee informed them, by way of messenger, that they were delaying their announcement until the end of next month.”

“Next month?” Lilah shook her head, not wanting to believe that it was over. She searched the faces in the room, hoping. But it was futile to deny the truth. She’d failed. “Juliet, I’m sorry. I had hoped—albeit foolishly—that I might win for you. That, perhaps, the committee had decided before Lord Tillmanshire’s party.”

“I never should have let Max goad me into that wager and involve you. It is my own fault.” Juliet stood and took Lilah’s hand, squeezing it with affection. “You were perfect.”

“It isn’t over,” Lilah said firmly. “I mean, it is for me but not for you. There is still a way for you to win part of the wager. All you need is to make sure that Thayne does not succeed with Wolford.” Then, remembering where she was standing, she glanced over at her hostess. “Forgive me, Mrs. Harwick.”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” she said with a laugh. “I happen to enjoy a little rivalry from time to time.”

Juliet’s eyes brightened to their usual gemlike quality as she nodded. “You have quite the devious mind, Cousin. If all goes well, I can continue to be a thorn in Max’s side. Heaven knows he deserves it—one redeeming moment aside, of course.”

“What was that?” Aunt Zinnia asked, not hearing the last bit that Juliet whispered.

“Hmm?” Juliet lifted her brows as if she didn’t understand the question.

And before Aunt Zinnia could ask again, they were interrupted by the appearance of the marquess in the doorway.

Juliet feigned a gasp. “It is true. If you speak of the devil, he does indeed appear.”

“Then what they say about bad pennies is true about you, Lady Granworth,” Thayne said matter-of-factly as he stepped into the room, pausing to greet his mother with a kiss upon her cheek. “Good evening, Mother. Lady Cosgrove. Miss Appleton. I hope you don’t mind if I eat the rest of the cake. I’m starving.”

Mrs. Harwick sighed. “I promise every single one of you that Maxwell was taught proper manners.”

“And then he happily slipped free of those chains and became his own man,” Thayne said, loading a plate with a tower of little cakes, as if he truly intended to eat them all.

“Maxwell, you wound me.” Mrs. Harwick affected a sniff. “I was not overly strict in your instruction. In fact, I was quite indulgent.”

He tossed his mother a wink. “Quite right. You were far too indulgent when I needed strictness, and too severe when I required lenience.”

Mrs. Harwick grinned. “You have too much of your father’s teasing nature. What has put you in such a playful mood?”

After popping another cake into his mouth and licking his fingertips, he sat back against the cushions. “I am pleased to report that I have hired a team of laborers to begin repairs on my recently acquired townhouse.”

All eyes turned to Juliet, and hers, in turn, narrowed. “How kind of you to ensure that once this house belongs to its rightful owner, I will be able to move in directly.”

“Surely you cannot think to win, even now.”

Juliet glanced at Lilah and grinned. “Do not forget, Max, you still have to ensure Wolford makes a good showing before this is over.”

The marquess frowned. And though it seemed impossible, Lilah felt immensely better about the events of the day. At least for a moment.

Then Mrs. Harwick changed that with one question. “Where was Jack this evening, Maxwell? I thought he meant to dine with us.”

Yes
, Lilah thought, eager to see Jack. He should have been here already. Until now, every time she’d needed him, he’d always appeared. That connection should have been even greater now, considering they were both in love. Weren’t they?

Apparently no longer hungry for cakes, Thayne set his plate down on the table. “Marlowe is away, out of town, it seems. He did not leave word of when he would return.”

Mother’s voice made an unwelcome appearance in Lilah’s mind.
Men will say or do anything to slake their lust. They think nothing of ruining entire families, let alone one unmarriageable girl.

And in that moment, a terrible heartbreaking fear crashed over her.

J
ack left his mother’s home before first light the following morning, his mind weighted. All that he had believed—all the loathing that had spurred him and formed him into the man he’d become—had been a lie. He felt betrayed.

She’d apologized for not telling him the whole truth. She’d even confessed that she’d omitted some of the details out of bitterness but also out of a fear that Jack would leave her too.

There had been truth enough in his mother’s circumstances to reconcile her actions. Knowing what she’d suffered and all that she’d sacrificed, he’d forgiven her. But he valued honesty too much not to be angry.

Not only that, but there was one part of the story that still remained a mystery. His father’s side.

Once he arrived in town, exhausted, road weary—and yes, still angry—he did not go to his townhouse and mull over all that he’d learned. Instead, he rode directly to Mayfair and pounded on Dovermere’s door.

“Why did you not tell me that you had been married to my mother?” Jack asked the instant he entered his father’s study.

Dovermere looked up from his ledger with a start and, after a moment, slowly returned the quill pen to the stand. He gestured to the chair. “Good afternoon, Jack. Take a seat. You look like hell.” Then he glanced to the door, where the butler waited. “Mr. English, if you would be so kind as to have Cook send a tray, I would be much obliged.”

“I did not come here to take tea with you. This is not a social call,” Jack said, even as the butler bowed and summarily disappeared. “I want answers.”

“You’ve been to see your mother, I gather.”

Jack offered a stiff nod, still standing firm, waiting.

Dovermere exhaled. “I did not even know of your existence until you were ten years old, and your mother wrote to me, asking for your education.”

As a child, Jack had known her reasons. Mother had explained that his father had chosen money and other obligations over her. The hollowness that any boy might have felt at such news had been understandable. Jack had filled that empty place with hatred for the aristocracy and with determination to live a better life than that of the man who’d abandoned him. “Why not tell me, then?”