The Promise (19 page)

“You were gone most of the night, so I didn’t get a chance to speak with you…” Cameron began.

“Go away!” Finn had scowled.

“Having an attack of maidenly nerves, are you?” Cameron chuckled and ducked just in time to avoid being brained by a shoehorn. “I see you’re in no mood for a brotherly talk, but I want you to know you have my blessing,” he smiled broadly, knowing the comment would grate.

“And that is
so
important to me,” Finn gave him a nasty look.

“Finn, your Miss Gray is a woman of many secrets. I think you would like to know…”

“I said go away!” Finn roared. His course was set and nothing his supercilious, domineering brother could say would change his mind. Part of him was irritated that Cameron thought he knew ‘secrets’ about Jane that he did not. If he did, Finn would hear them from her lips, not Cam’s.

“Very well. You’ll know soon enough, I suppose,” Cameron had thrown his hands up in the air. “If you don’t want my input...”

“I don’t,” Finn ground out, a muscle working in his jaw. “Mind your own damn business.”

Rutledge laughed again and shut the door.

THE DUCHESS FASTENED the clasp of a single strand of pearls around Jane’s neck and held up two pair of pearl ear bobs. “Which do you prefer? The flowers, or the dangles?”

“They are both beautiful, but I like these best.” The dangling ear bobs were simple but exquisite, each with one lustrous pearl suspended from a rose cut diamond.

“You look gorgeous.” The duchess met Jane’s eyes in the mirror with genuine admiration.

A cap sleeved, ivory satin gown with an overlay of white Brussels lace hugged Jane’s figure and made the most of her slender curves and tiny waist. It was a dramatic foil for her dark hair and brown eyes. Although the bodice was modest, the neckline was cut wide and emphasized her delicate collarbones.

The duchess’ French maid loosely braided Jane’s hair, weaving in a long strand of pearls. She looped the braids to form a coronet and pinned them in place. The style made her neck look long and graceful.

“My eyesight must be failing, my dear. I never noticed before today how truly lovely you are.”

She blushed. “That is kind of you to say.”

“Not kind, just truthful.”

Jane looked skeptical, but said, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Justine, remember? Or, if you prefer, mother, mama, or some variation on the theme.”

“Give me time,” Jane said with a smile. “I feel as if I have been strapped to the top of a runaway carriage. Everything is moving too fast.”

The modiste’s assistants were sitting on the floor finishing her hem. Madame Fournier had brought several in various stages of completion.

“Were these made for someone else?”

“Young ladies and their mothers can be fickle. They often change their minds, especially about wedding or debut gowns. Sometimes an angry husband cancels an order when his wife has exceeded her allowance. I keep the partially completed gowns for emergencies such as this,” Madame Fournier explained.

“Now that you have Lady Jane’s measurements, perhaps you could send over more things in the morning?”

“What sorts of things?” There was an eager look in the modiste’s eyes. The duchess was a stylish and generous client. She had spared no expense in dressing her daughter Maura, and Madame Fournier suspected the same would be true for her son’s new wife.

“She needs
everything
,” Justine said. “And I do mean
everything
,” she emphasized the word and held up Jane’s brown gown as if to underscore the sad state of her wardrobe.

“Everything?
Fabuleux!
” the dressmaker clapped her hands together, delighted at the prospect of a large order. “I will not disappoint.”

Pip, who had slipped out to spy on the guests, sprang back into the room to give a progress report. She launched into a detailed recounting of how many had arrived and what they were wearing. Jane listened and nodded, but her mind was on the coming ceremony… and Lord Wallace. A thrill shot down her spine. It might be a marriage of convenience, but in an hour she would be his wife and he would be her husband. She would have a family and a home to call her own.

It all seemed too impossibly wonderful to be true.

Chapter Fourteen

A curious calm settled over Finn as he studied the wrinkled folds of skin spilling over Father Reese’s collar. The cleric’s prayer book was tucked beneath the narrow sleeve of his black, double-breasted cassock. Tufts of white hair poked out from under a box-like biretta that reminded Finn of an organ grinder’s monkey. He stifled a chuckle at the irreverent thought. His mother shot him a quizzical look then glanced to the arched entry where Jane would soon emerge on Cameron’s arm.

Finn was surprised that he hadn’t experienced regret, panic, or any of the other unpleasant emotions he had mentally prepared himself to confront. Other than a mild concern regarding how the unexpected pageantry would impact Jane’s state of mind, he was calm, perhaps a little impatient. He wanted to take his vows and have the day behind him.

To his amusement, Father Reese was treating this ceremony with the same reverence he would a conventional wedding. The priest didn’t betray any disapproval for having been awakened in the wee hours of the morning by Cameron armed with a special license signed minutes before by no less than the Archbishop of Canterbury.

It went against the grain to call upon his brother’s influence. Finn had spent a lifetime witnessing the fawning his family’s social status inspired. It was bad enough as a younger son, but it was even worse for Cameron. A young, rich, handsome duke had no choice but to live his life in the crosshairs. His presence at any
ton
gathering provoked a feeding frenzy among social climbers and influence peddlers.

Finn grinned at the irony of it all. The Wallace name had worked miracles. Cameron had secured a special license and who but the dowager duchess could wield enough influence to throw together such an elaborate affair with only a few hours notice? To Finn’s surprise, his mother seemed to have embraced the marriage wholeheartedly.

He had his back to the crowd when restrained murmurs gave way to a collective sigh followed by excited whispers. He glanced over his shoulder and his heart warmed as a smiling Pip flounced his way, casting petals from a basket. Cameron stepped through the arch moments later with Jane on his arm. Finn drew in a sharp breath.

It was the first time he had seen her in anything but a brown pinafore with her chestnut hair in a loose, careless bun. She generally wore a look of harried dishevelment and, although her expressive brown eyes had drawn him from the beginning, she had otherwise seemed quite unremarkable. For weeks he had been perplexed by his growing attraction to her, but he was perplexed no longer. The woman walking toward him was a vision.

Jane held herself with quiet dignity as she glided down the aisle on Cameron’s arm. Chin raised, shoulders back, she looked regal. Her hair was elegantly swept up, emphasizing the delicate arc of her neck. Her creamy skin glowed in an ivory satin wedding gown and pearls.

She looked up and their eyes locked. A slight, rueful smile tilted the corners of her mouth. Finn returned her smile and glanced around the room before looking back with an unspoken apology. To his relief she seemed more amused than alarmed by the crowd. Cameron placed her small hand in Finn’s when they reached the dais, then stepped away.

Father Reese began to speak, but Finn found it impossible to concentrate on the words. If he had been paying attention, he would have been startled when the priest referred to Jane as Lady Jane Amarante Lavinia Gray. Instead, he furtively studied her profile. Her features seemed too fragile for the capable, no-nonsense woman he knew her to be. They were finely wrought, with high cheekbones and a straight, dainty nose. Thick, long eyelashes tangled at the edges and her eyebrows angled like the wings of a hawk over her dusky eyes. Her bottom lip was fuller than the top, soft, plump, and provocative. Had she always looked this way? Or was he seeing her through a new filter of affection?

Cameron nudged him when it was time to repeat his vows, then a ring miraculously appeared in his palm. He slipped it onto Jane’s finger and they shared another smile, an odd mixture of trepidation edged with something else. Was it anticipation? And lurking somewhere not too far beneath the surface was something that felt suspiciously like joy.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I present to you Lord Fionnlagh Wallace and his bride, Lady Jane Wallace,” Father Reese announced. “The Duchess wishes to make an announcement before we celebrate this blessed union among family and friends.”

Finn pressed Jane’s hand reassuringly and tugged her closer until she was pressed firmly against his side. He listened intently, curious how his mother planned to explain his hasty nuptials. Jane. Pip. Everything.

“Thank you for coming. Your attendance is even more appreciated knowing you were given precious little notice,” Justine said with an embarrassed smile. A wave of muffled laughter rolled through the room. “Few of you have had the opportunity to meet Jane, so I thought it would make it easier for her if I introduced her. That way she will not have to answer the same questions…” Justine looked around the room, “oh, say, fifty times.” Another round of laughter followed her words.

“My son’s lovely bride is the daughter of the late Earl of Clovershire, Robert Gray, and his wife, Countess Jacqueline Gray. She was raised on her family’s ancestral estate in Dorset. She is the granddaughter of Le Duc de Bruniquel and also connected to the Moreaus of France. Her paternal grandmother was Lavinia Rae Fitzwarren, a name that should be familiar to most of you.”

The room had grown quiet. Finn frowned. His mother’s words made no sense,
Lady Jane Who?

Cameron leaned forward and spoke quietly in his ear, “I tried to tell you this morning, but you wouldn’t listen. Oh, and she’s an heiress, too.” He stepped back and gave Jane a head-to-toe appraisal then raised his hand to shield his face so only Finn could see him mouth the words,
 
“Lucky Irish bastard.”

Finn’s head whipped around and he looked at Jane in confusion. “What…” he began, but his mother continued.

“I have one more, very important introduction to make,” Justine wrapped her arm around Pip’s shoulder and smiled down at her. “This is my granddaughter Piper Wallace… Maura’s child. We call her Pip.” Throughout the room mouths dropped open, eyebrows flew up, heads tilted and swiveled at the startling news. “Jane was Maura’s dearest friend and she has raised Pip since birth. I know you will all come to love her as much as I do.” She bent over and pressed a kiss to Pip’s head. The girl beamed.

“Now, please enjoy some refreshments.” Justine said cheerfully. She gave Pip a squeeze and ventured into the stunned crowd as if introducing one’s illegitimate granddaughter to her family were an everyday occurrence.

“There is no way around this but through it,” Jane said quietly to Finn, then took a deep breath. “Shall we?” she gestured toward the audience, most of whom had already risen to their feet and broken into small groups where they spoke in urgent, hushed voices, and glanced surreptitiously at the newlyweds and Pip.

“Jane, I’m confused. Dumbfounded, actually. Who
are
you?” Finn asked.

She laughed. “I’m your wife. Weren’t you listening to Father Reese?”

“Your father was an earl, your grandfather a duke. Such revelations! We must talk.”

“Clearly, but now is not the time.”

They were still holding hands. Jane smiled up at him.

“If you think about it, we are no more and no less strangers than we were ten minutes ago, my lord. We have a lifetime to talk… but for the next hour or two we must put on a convincing performance for your family. If we can persuade them that we are in love, we should have no trouble fooling mere strangers.

Finn’s eyes slid down her gown and back up to meet her gaze. “It won’t be difficult to appear besotted. You look stunning, Jane. It will be assumed I fell prey to your beauty.”

“Very convincing, my lord! Keep that up and our job is as good as done.”

Finn felt a tug on his arm and he looked down to find Pip attached to his sleeve.

“Are you my daddy now?” she asked.

He knelt down and lifted her with his free arm. “I am.”

Pip threw her arms around his neck as he settled her on his hip. “I’m glad.”

“So am I, poppet,” he turned back to Jane and cocked a brow. “Shall we?”

Hand-in-hand they stepped into the crowd like martyrs facing the lions.

BY THE TIME THE last guest left, Pip was curled up on Jane’s lap sound asleep, her arms and legs limp as a cloth doll. Finn smiled. “Oh, to sleep the sleep of innocents, with no cares or worries.”

“And to wake with boundless energy,” Jane added enviously. “She will burst from her bed hours before I am ready to face the day.”

She gave Pip over to Finn’s outstretched arms. He tucked the child’s lolling head under his chin as he carried her up the stairs to her room. After he gently placed her on the bed, Jane removed her shoes and dress, leaving Pip in a linen shift. They each took a corner of her blanket and tucked it around the girl’s tiny shoulders. With one last lingering glance, Jane snuffed out all the candles but one before slipping into the shadowed hall.

She leaned against the wall for support. “I cannot recall ever being this tired,” she said softly.

“My mother meant well, but it must have been difficult for you,” Finn smiled sympathetically. “You handled it admirably.”

“Thank you. Your relatives were gracious and I believe your mother accomplished what she set out to. Your aunts and uncles now believe ours is a love match, which explains our rush to the altar. More importantly, they were introduced to Pip. I think she stole their hearts,” Jane smiled.

“She was at her most charming.”

“In time Pip will be thought of as our daughter and the rest will fall away. There are so many Wallaces that she will never lack for playmates, even if the rest of the
ton
is slow to welcome us.”

“If you handle the
ton
as well as you handled my family, Pip should have no difficulties. No matter how impertinent or intrusive, you handled all questions masterfully,” Finn said with admiration in his voice.

“They weren’t rude, merely curious.” Jane was pleased by the compliment.

“As am I. How is it that my mother knows more about you than I do?”

“She asked,” Jane laughed. “I told her and His Grace last night. Didn’t they tell you?”

“They tried, but I may have had a chip on my shoulder,” Finn grinned. “My lady wife is a woman of many secrets. I would like to know why the daughter of an earl has spent the last five years baking cakes and living in poverty.”

Jane blushed. “It was eight years, actually, and poverty is a matter of perspective. I had very good reasons, but I hope you’ll be patient for a just a little while longer. You have a right to your curiosity, but at present I’m too fatigued to satisfy it. Do you know which room your mother has chosen for me? The only thing I want to do right now is sleep.”

Finn pushed away from the wall and offered her his arm. “Of course, how inconsiderate of me. You’ve had a long day.”

Her skirts caressed his leg as they walked to a set of double doors at the end of the hall. The deep, hollow sound of his heels striking marble mixed with the tinkling clatter of plates and glasses being cleared in the ballroom below. He turned to her with his hand on the doorknob.

“This will be your chamber until we lease a house. An estate agent is searching for something suitable. Although I initially considered staying here, I now feel it would be better for all concerned if we establish our own residence. The Season is well underway and our choices are limited, but I’m confident we can find something that will please you.” Jane was taken aback when he stepped into the room ahead of her and waited for her to enter.

The walls were covered with pale blue silk and, as in the rest of the house, the furniture had been chosen for comfort as much as style. It was a cozy room, with thick carpets and a canopied bed piled high with pillows. Jane was confident the mattress would be as soft as the feather stuffed dream in Pip’s room. She looked at it with longing, wanting nothing more than to sink into it and relax. She wished he hadn’t come in, wished he hadn’t shut the door.

“Would you like me to arrange for a bath?” Finn asked.

“No. Thank you,” Jane said self-consciously, embarrassed by the personal nature of his question. “I bathed earlier.”

It was silly, especially since he was now her husband… legally bound to her for the rest of his life… but she felt uncomfortable being alone with him in her bedchamber. As always, she was keenly aware of his masculine presence, an awareness that had only been sharpened by his attentiveness throughout the wedding luncheon. He had stayed by her side, deflecting obtrusive questions and providing appropriately vague fictions about their “romance.” She had taken comfort from the warm pressure of his hand on the back of her waist as they strolled through the room chatting with his relatives. He had maintained some sort of physical connection throughout the meal as well, covering her hand with his own on the table, or resting his palm on her shoulder as she spoke with his elderly aunts.

Feigning nonchalance, she settled into an overstuffed chair next to the fireplace and waited for him to leave.