Not Always a Saint (9 page)

“W
e won't have many days more like this.” Mariah took a sip of lemonade as she gazed from the Ashton House gazebo to the sunny lawn where Beth and several other children were playing with shrieks of delight. “We'll be heading home to Ralston Abbey soon. You can stay on if you wish, though. Heaven knows the house is large enough.”

Jessie felt a pang. She'd loved living under the same roof as Mariah and Julia, who had become the best female friends she'd ever had. Writing letters wouldn't be the same. “No need. We've had a wonderful visit, but it's time to return to Kent.”

Mariah had been idly shuffling through a small stack of invitations that had been delivered to her earlier. She pulled one out to study more closely. “The Dunhavens are having a harvest ball next week, so stay until then. That will be a nice ending to the little season. Any fashionable folk still in town will be there, so we can say our good-byes. The Dunhavens are splendid hosts.”

“I'm not sure I should go to a ball,” Jessie said half seriously. “My resolve to behave might dissolve and I'll disgrace myself by waltzing.”

“The world wouldn't end if that happened.” Mariah set the invitation aside to be answered later. “But how goes your quest for a husband? You haven't said much about that lately.”

“Well, I've received indecent propositions from several men anxious to comfort a lonely widow. Most of them married.” She made a face. “One was from Sir Harold Truscott.”

“Isn't he one of the widowers you considered to be a good husband prospect? Rich, agreeable, and elderly?”

“He seemed a good choice, but alas! It was not to be. When he propositioned me, I told him I'd consider marriage, but not an illicit affair.” Jessie chuckled. “He suggested that he might be willing to marry me, but first he would have to try the goods to be sure of what he was getting. I told him I wasn't going to lower my market value by giving away free samples. It was all dreadfully mercantile.”

Mariah laughed. “Were you tempted to continue negotiations in hopes of striking an acceptable bargain?”

“Not really. His hands were clammy.” Jessie suspected that she might have been able to charm Sir Harold into an offer of marriage, but she really didn't want to marry him. She couldn't help but compare him to Lord Romayne. Though Sir Harold was an easygoing man with a good reputation and good connections, he was boring, and the more she saw of him, the more boring he became.

“I'm surprised that you haven't received at least one offer,” Mariah mused. “You've enchanted any number of gentlemen just by stepping into a room.”

“I don't count the very young men who offer their hearts and bad poetry,” Jessie said. “There were several of those. I invoke my recent bereavement and refuse very gently but very, very firmly. There's only been one remotely plausible offer, but that one wouldn't have worked.”

“Oh?” Mariah gave Jessie a bright-eyed glance. “Who was plausible but wrong?”

Jessie hesitated. She shouldn't have said anything, but she realized she wanted to talk about him. “Lord Romayne asked permission to court me. I declined, of course.”

“What?” Mariah stared at her. “What do you mean, ‘of course'? Daniel is a lovely, intelligent, charming fellow, and as Laurel's brother and a long-term friend of Adam, Randall, and Kirkland, he's a known quantity, not an unreliable stranger. Apart from his age, he fits your conditions perfectly. I've seen him at the Zion House infirmary and he's wonderful with children. He'd be a marvelous stepfather for Beth. He also has a title and powerful connections to help keep you and your daughter safe from the loathsome Frederick. How could you say no?”

Daniel.
His name was Daniel. “I was very tempted,” Jessie admitted. “But I don't think we would suit, and I . . . like him too well to burden him with a wife he'll soon regret.”

Mariah pursed her lips. “I have the feeling that this is much more complicated than you wish to discuss.”

Jessie's smile was crooked. “You're right, and I appreciate your tact in not asking more questions.”

“I can be tactful when there's no other choice,” Mariah said dryly. “Apparently you're no longer as worried about your nephew as when you first arrived in London?”

Jessie nodded. “I haven't heard a word from him, and now I think I reacted too strongly to his threats. He was furious, but he's also rather lazy. After he got over the initial shock of not inheriting the title, he must have realized that he'll have a very handsome fortune with none of the responsibilities of running the estate. That should suit him perfectly, considering how averse he is to anything resembling work.”

“As a mother, of course you reacted strongly to a possible threat to Beth,” Mariah said sympathetically. “But if the danger has passed, no need to rush choosing a new husband. It shouldn't be hard to find a man you like who doesn't have clammy hands.”

They both laughed. Mariah was right. Now that Jessie's fears had subsided, there was no need to rush into marriage. In truth, she'd rather not marry at all. Her gaze went to her daughter, who was giggling with the butler's daughter. While she had her doubts about marriage, she'd love to have more children.

Maybe someday . . .

 

 

The Dunhaven ball proved to be worth waiting for. After an initial round of greetings, Jessie found a position by the wall where she could enjoy the music and elegant guests spinning across the polished floor. In her mourning, she felt like a raven at the feast, but even if she couldn't dance, she could enjoy. Surely tapping her foot to the music wasn't a serious violation of mourning customs.

The ballroom was less crowded than Jessie's first rout, and there was a relaxed air as people came to bid farewell to friends they wouldn't see for months. Mariah and Julia were dancing with their husbands, and very happy all four of them looked. Jessie smiled wistfully. She loved to dance, but Philip hadn't, so it had been far too long since she'd attended even a simple country assembly.

But next year she could return to London, and she'd no longer be in mourning. Mariah had given her an open invitation to Ashton House, and Jessie looked forward to future visits, not least because Beth needed to grow up as part of this sophisticated world.

She was about to join a group of older women who'd taken possession of one corner of the ballroom when her attention was caught by new arrivals. Lord and Lady Kirkland and their guest, Lord Romayne.

Jessie felt as if she'd been kicked in the stomach. She hadn't seen him since their last meeting almost a fortnight earlier, and she'd hoped to keep it that way.

Since he hadn't yet seen her, she retreated through a pair of French doors to a balcony overlooking the extensive Dunhaven gardens. The early autumn air was brisk, but it steadied her nerves. She shouldn't have been surprised to see Lord Romayne when most of fashionable London was in attendance tonight, but she'd tried not to think about him.

She rested her hands on the wooden railing, thinking of her time in London. Though she was profoundly grateful for the friends she'd made, she was ready to return to the quiet of Kent. London had taken the edge off of her grief over Philip, and now that she wasn't worried about Beth, she could begin building her new life as a modest widow who didn't need a husband.

The next time she saw Lord Romayne, he'd probably be happily married to a woman of impeccable reputation. Jessie hoped his wife would also be kind because kindness mattered, and he deserved it.

She was ready to return to the ball when the doors opened behind her, releasing warmth and merriment into the night. Before she could turn, a large male hand trapped the gloved fingers of her right hand where it rested on the balcony railing. She tried to pull her hand free, but the man kept her pinned to the railing.

Thinking it was another lout who wanted to comfort a poor widow, she turned—and was appalled to see Frederick Kelham.

Outraged, she freed her hand with a powerful yank, giving thanks for gloves that meant their bare fingers hadn't touched. “How
dare
you! Get away from me!”

He moved a step back, raising his hands placatingly. “Don't take on so, Jessie! I just need to speak with you in private.” He was a handsome man, and quite charming when he smiled at her as he did now. He had blue eyes and the toffee-colored Kelham hair, and looked rather like a youthful version of Philip.

Best of all, he looked reasonable tonight. Perhaps he wanted to apologize for his outrageous tantrum when he'd learned that he wasn't heir to the title. “Very well,” she said warily. “Did you want to tell me that you've come to terms with Philip's will?”

His mouth thinned before he replied. “Now that I've had time to think about it, I've come up with a perfect solution.”

She frowned. “There's nothing that needs solving. The situation is quite straightforward, and I think Philip handled it very fairly.”

“I was robbed of my inheritance!” Frederick snapped. “No one knew that the title came from a damned barony of writ, and there was no need to bring it up! Beth would still be an heiress and she'd never have missed being Lady Kelham.”

So Frederick had not recovered from his tantrum. “Perhaps not, but it gave Philip great joy that she was his heir,” Jessie said icily.

“My uncle is beyond caring,” Frederick retorted. “But as I said, I have a solution. Marry me, Jessie. Then we can be a family together at Kelham Hall.”

She stared at him, shocked. “Have you run mad? I'd never marry you after all you've done!”

“I haven't always behaved well, Jessie,” he said with an apologetic little-boy smile that didn't suit him. “But you wanted to marry me once, and we had a great time together. There's no one like you, and I was a fool to let you go.”

Her mouth tightened at his disingenuous description of how their affair had ended. “I am honored by your regard, sir,” she said with deep sarcasm, “but I must refuse, for I fear we would not suit.” She frowned. “I'm not sure it would even be legal since you're Philip's nephew.”

He shrugged that aside. “We're not blood kin, so that's no barrier. And think of the advantages, Jessie!”

Ignoring her flinch, he cupped her chin, and said huskily, “You're a passionate woman, Jessie, and you need a man. I know how to make you happy, eh?”

Revolted, she retreated out of touching distance. “Why the devil would I put myself and my daughter under your control? Kelham Hall and the title belong to Beth, and marrying me won't change that, Frederick! You've inherited a comfortable fortune and you needn't worry about running an estate or sitting in Parliament or any of the other boring responsibilities that go with the title. So enjoy your life and
leave us alone!
”

His handsome face turned ugly. “My damned uncle tied up my fortune in a trust so that I'm living on a quarterly allowance like a bloody pauper! I'm Kelham of Kelham Hall and I deserve better!”

Her stomach knotted as he revealed his weakness and greed. Those traits hadn't been visible when they'd first met. She'd been too young and foolish to see beneath his amusing surface.

As she edged slowly back to the far end of the balcony, she had horrific visions of what it would be like to be his wife. He would take over Kelham Hall and invite hordes of his drinking and gambling friends. He'd find ways to skim money from the estate, not caring if he destroyed what had taken generations to build. And he'd surely continue his quest to have Beth declared his illegitimate daughter rather than Philip's legitimate heir so the title would come to him.

His voice coaxing again, he followed her, keeping too close for comfort. “You're a smart girl, Jessie. When you think about it, you'll see what a fine plan this is. We'll rule at Kelham together and you'll have a real man in your bed. Philip was a good old fellow, but you can't claim that he was much of a lover.”

Her fear changed to swift rage. “You weak, contemptible swine! Philip was a hundred times the man you are, both in and out of bed!”

Frederick laughed. “I've always liked your spirit, Jess. It's why you were such a great mistress. But sheathe your pretty claws and accept the inevitable, because if you don't marry me, you'll regret it.”

“Rot in
hell,
Frederick!” she said in a low, dangerous voice. “I'll never marry you. Stay away from us, and do not
ever
set foot at Kelham Hall again! I have powerful friends and I won't hesitate to ask for their aid if you try to cause us trouble.”

“How long will they be your friends if they know the truth about you?” he sneered. “That you're a whore and Beth is my daughter. Anyone seeing us together will recognize the truth. She looks like me and she was born barely nine months after you and I parted. I've made all the preparations to file a suit to gain custody of the brat. I've already talked to a Chancery judge, and he said it won't be difficult to be declared her legal guardian.” His voice dropped to a hiss. “Accept my generous proposal, Jessie, or I'll ruin you and take your daughter. I swear it!”

She tried to dart around him to escape, but he grabbed her into a hard embrace. “Damn, I've missed you,” he breathed before his mouth crushed down on hers, his tongue hot and wet as he tried to force it between her lips.

Revolted, she managed to twist her head away, but he laughed again. Catching her left hand, he pressed it against his hard erection. “Remember how much you liked that? Show me again.”