The Shocking Secret of a Guest at the Wedding (Millworth Manor) (13 page)

“I imagine I would forgive you anything, Lady Theodosia.”

“Teddy,” she said, firmly ignoring the rush of pleasure brought by his words.

“No, I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “If we are going to call each other by our first names, and I suspect Delilah would be more than a little annoyed if we didn’t, then I much prefer Theodosia to Teddy.”

“I can’t imagine why. Teddy isn’t at all stuffy and is a great deal of fun. Whereas Theodosia is the name for an ancient spinster, entirely too concerned with propriety, who will die alone surrounded by her needlework in a houseful of cats.”

He laughed.

“Although I daresay I am fast approaching that point.” She wrinkled her nose. “Fortunately, cats make me sneeze.”

“It means ‘gift of God,’ you know. Theodosia that is.”

“I did know that.” She narrowed her gaze. “How did you know it?”

“You do ask a lot of questions.”

“I always have. Well?”

“Millworth has a vast and impressive library.” He chuckled. “You’d be amazed at the information you can find there. Besides Theodosia is a beautiful name.” He paused. “It suits you.”

“Because I am an adventure?” she said without thinking.

“Absolutely. And a beautiful one at that.”

She stared at him curiously. “No one that I know would ever accuse me of being at a loss for words. Are you aware that you say things that quite take me aback and I don’t know how to respond?”

“It’s not deliberate,” he said with a smile. “But yes I was aware of that. I like it.”

“It must be the American in you.”

“Possibly, because I do find it delightful.” His gaze met hers. “Or maybe it’s just the man.”

Her breath caught. “You are an outrageous flirt. Exactly like your father.”

He paused. “That’s something at any rate.” An odd note sounded in his voice. “Speaking of my father, he’s probably wondering where I am.”

“And I do need to make an appearance in the ballroom.” She nodded toward the door.

“I should escort you in.” Still he seemed hesitant to do so.

“It’s not at all necessary and our returning together might cause more than a few tongues to wag.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” he murmured but it was obvious his mind was on anything but gossip about the two of them.

“Oh dear.” She considered him closely. “Is this another instance of being a fish out of water?”

He grimaced. “Is it that obvious?”

“I’m afraid so, at least at the moment.”

“It’s, well, it’s awkward that’s all.” He blew a long breath and resumed pacing. “I’ve never in my entire life felt out of place before. A few weeks ago, there were no questions in my life. I knew who I was, what I was, and where I was headed. Now, I’m not even sure of my own name.”

“Jack,” she said helpfully. He stopped and stared at her. “Or do you prefer Jackson?”

“Jack,” he said and continued to pace. “I’ve always thought of myself as Jack even if everyone else has always called me Jackson. Jackson is the name of a banker. I don’t know who Jack is.”

“I can see where that would be difficult.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” He shook his head. “I’m a banker, Theodosia. For much of my life I knew I would be a banker and I’ve been a banker since I left school. My grandfather is a banker and my great-grandfather founded the bank. Banking defines my family.”

“Your
mother’s
family.”

“Exactly. Now I find myself with a father who is bigger than life. Who has been places I have only dreamed of seeing and done things I have never imagined doing. At least not since childhood. My father is the stuff legends and heroes are made out of. And I’m . . .”

“A stodgy, straitlaced banker.” She nodded sympathetically.

He stopped in midstep. “I never said stodgy or straitlaced. I believe I said reserved and old-fashioned.”

She waved off his objection. “One in the same really.”

“Not . . . yes, I suppose you’re right.” He returned to pacing. “And tonight, well, ever since we arrived in London, he has been introducing me as his son to these friends and acquaintances of his, all of whom are as adventurous as he and—”

“Don’t be absurd, Jack.” She scoffed. “Why, I would wager a great deal of money that no more than a handful of those men in that ballroom right now have ever ventured anywhere close to the wilds of Africa or jungles of the Amazon.”

“Regardless, they obviously have adventurous spirits or they wouldn’t be here in the first place. I don’t fit in and worse I don’t know how to fit in.”

“Come now. I’m sure they’re all quite fond of fish. Why, they simply devoured the salmon en croute served tonight.”

He ignored her attempt to lighten his mood.

“And as much as you might think we all speak the same language, we don’t.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Good God, Theodosia, I don’t even understand their jokes.”

She clapped her hands to her cheeks in horror. “Oh no, not that!”

He stared at her for a long moment. Finally the corners of his lips curved upward slightly. “This is not amusing.”

“Of course it is. It’s most amusing. You’d see that if you weren’t the fish.” She shook her head. “Fish have a terrible lack of confidence.”

“Do they?”

“Oh my, yes.”

“Am I being absurd?”

“Absolutely.”

“It’s not very heroic, is it?” he said wryly. “Not up to my father’s standards.”

“Jackson Channing,” she said sharply. “I daresay your father has no expectations when it comes to you.”

“Oh, that’s good to know.”

“Now is not the time for sarcasm.” She sniffed and continued. “Why, you’ve barely met after all. Besides, I have known Colonel Channing for nearly a dozen years and yes, he is known for his adventures and certainly he has done any number of things other men have only dreamed of doing but I have never seen him as proud and happy as he is when he looks at you.”

“Still, I’m certain he never expected his son to be a stodgy, straitlaced banker.”

“A reserved, old-fashioned banker if you please,” she said firmly. “In point of fact, he never expected to have a son at all so as far as your not being what he wanted why that’s just so much nonsense, rubbish, poppycock.”

He raised a brow. “Poppycock?”

“Complete and utter poppycock.” She nodded and stepped closer. “Furthermore, it seems to me you have been given an opportunity few other men have.”

“And what might that be?”

“Why you can now be whomever or whatever you choose. Although who you are, the man you are, I mean, hasn’t changed, not really. But the entire world is open to you. You can follow your heart as it were.” She stared up at him. “You can continue to follow in your grandfather’s footsteps if that’s what you truly want. Or you can choose instead your father’s path in life. And eventually of course, you can step into your uncle’s shoes. You . . .” She emphasized her words with a poke of her finger. “Can be anything you want. An adventurer. A hero. A banker. An earl. Anything.”

“Theodosia—”

“Most people would sell their souls for the opportunity presented to you now. It’s a grand adventure you’re embarked upon now, Jack.”

“I realize—”

“Furthermore, in case you have forgotten, we have already established that I thought you quite dashing and intriguing and mysterious when we first met. All qualities any man of adventure, any true hero would certainly display.”

He stared down at her. “Are you finished?”

“No,” she said sharply. “Perhaps.” She paused. “Yes, I believe I am.”

“You’re very good at this.”

“I know.” She cast him a smug smile. “Brides and hostesses are remarkably difficult to manage. I usually tell them to breathe deeply and slowly.”

“Does it work?”

“On occasion.” Although the effects were usually short-lived. “Let me ask you a question.”

He nodded. “Go on.”

“If you were in New York, at a gathering of men like the colonel, would you feel ill at ease?”

“Oh, but I would never go to . . .” He paused. “But I would like to. And why shouldn’t I?”

“Why indeed?”

He stared at her and she had the distinct sense he wasn’t looking at her at all. Even in the faint light she noted a change in his eyes. A realization perhaps or acknowledgement or resolve. “No,” he said slowly, “I wouldn’t feel the least bit self-conscious. Of course, that’s my native environment if you will, and this is completely different.”

“Is it?” She studied him closely. “Couldn’t one say, as you are just as English by blood as you are American, you belong in this world every bit as much as you do the other? You simply have to get used to it, that’s all. You said it yourself. One step at a time.”

“You make it sound simple.” A thoughtful note sounded in his voice.

“It is or at least it will be,” she said staunchly.

“You barely know me.” His gaze searched hers. “How can you be so certain?”

“Probably for the same reason you confided in me, I imagine.” Because for one moment at Camille’s wedding ball there was something . . . something special that passed between them. Not that it really mattered even if it was nearly impossible to forget.

“Kindred spirits?”

“I suppose that’s possible but it’s more likely that I was very nearly the first person you met here.”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s it,” he said under his breath and it struck her that he didn’t believe that any more than she did.

“I have a feeling about you, Jackson Channing,” she said in as lighthearted a manner as she could muster. “Besides, I suspect there’s far more of your father in you than merely appearance.” She hesitated. “You asked for my help at Millworth and I was not especially gracious about it. But I am now offering you any assistance you might need. With names or titles or the nuances of society here. Do feel free to call on me if you need my help.”

“You’re being very nice.”

“Oh, I am usually nice. Not to you, of course . . .”

“I do appreciate it. You’re right, you know.” He thought for a moment. “I should have seen it myself. I was comfortable in the life I was leading. I was rarely in a situation new to me. Now, everything is new but while my circumstances have changed, I haven’t. Not really.”

“Perhaps you should think of it all as a challenge. And don’t the best adventures always include a challenge of some sort?”

“It is a challenge.” He nodded. “I’ve never backed down from a challenge before but then I can’t recall ever being faced with one as all-encompassing as this.”

“Nonetheless, I daresay, this is one you are more than equal to.”

“Am I?” He smiled down at her.

“Well, you are your father’s son.” She shook her head. “You shouldn’t forget that.”

“I won’t.” He paused. “You know I like them. These friends of my father’s. They may well be the most interesting people I have ever met.”

“Surely not more interesting than bankers?”

“God forbid!” He grinned, then sobered. “Thank you, Theodosia.”

“For bringing you to your senses?” She shrugged. “You would have arrived there on your own eventually.”

“Probably.” He stared down into her eyes for a long moment and she wondered if he were truly seeing into her soul or if it only felt that way.

She swallowed hard. “Well, you should . . .”

“Yes, I should.”

She took off his coat and handed it to him. “Thank you, for the coat that is. I’ll follow in a moment.”

“Very well.” He pulled on his coat, stepped to the doors, and opened one. “I will call on you, you know.”

“I expect you to.” She smiled. “I look forward to giving you any assistance I can.”

“After all.” He grinned. “I do need all the help I can get.”

“I won’t help you at all if you throw my words back in my face.”

He laughed, stepped into the corridor, and let the door close behind him.

It took her a moment to realize she was still smiling like some sort of madwoman. That had gone well. Better than well, really. They were becoming . . .
friends
was probably the only word for it. She stepped toward the doors.

Abruptly the doors opened and Jack stepped back onto the terrace. “I forgot something.”

Without warning he swept her into his arms and kissed her long and hard. Then released her so quickly she had no time to protest. Not that she was able to do so.

Not that she wanted to.

“Now, that was very helpful.” He grinned that infectious irresistible smile that had haunted her since their first meeting, turned, and once again disappeared into the building.

She stared after him, the cold completely forgotten.

And wasn’t that unexpected? She sank down onto a wrought-iron bench. Although maybe it wasn’t. Maybe they had been headed straight toward one another from the moment she had turned around at the wedding ball and looked into his blue eyes. Hadn’t her traitorous heart skipped a beat?

This man was everything she’d ever thought she wanted. Everything she’d ever expected to have.

And wasn’t that bloody well inconvenient?

One week later,
Channing House,
London . . .

 

 

 

“. . . and then, of course, the beast, realizing the futility . . .”

Jack smiled and nodded in the appropriate places but his mind wandered from yet another story of adventure from the dozen or so gentlemen his father had gathered for a dinner party at Channing House in London. Most of the men here were longtime friends of his father’s, shared common interests, and were his contemporaries in age or older. Thankfully, Gray and Sam were in attendance as well. Jack had become better acquainted with both gentlemen since the wedding. They frequently came into London and Jack had had the opportunity to see their motorwagon for himself. It was indeed remarkable.

“. . . nor that my skill has lessened in any way, although I will admit . . .”

Not that each and every story wasn’t fascinating. They were the stuff his head had been filled with as a boy. But after hearing several tonight alone about the follies of being inadequately supplied on an African safari or the deadly encounters with predators in the wilds of some jungle or other, or the latest news on who was organizing an expedition to where, even Jack’s mind was prone to wander.

And there was only one place it wandered to. Or rather one person.

Try as he might, he hadn’t managed to see Theodosia again after their encounter on the terrace at the Explorers Club. And that had been a full week ago. Although he had certainly made an effort.

“. . . and, naturally, the gun bearer took it upon himself . . .”

He had planned to dance with her again at the Explorers Club and while he had noted her arrival in the ballroom shortly after his return, the next time he looked for her, the woman had vanished. Deliberately, no doubt. He probably shouldn’t have kissed her. It was an irresistible impulse, in and of itself unusual for him, and had surprised him as much as it did her. But he would do it again under the same circumstances. In fact, he fully intended to do it again under any circumstances. There was something between them, he couldn’t quite put his finger on exactly what, but something. Something worth pursuing. He certainly liked her; whether there was more than that remained to be seen. But he intended to find out. She was, after all, his first real adventure.

“. . . so it did seem to me at the time, although in hindsight. . .”

Jack had managed to call on her twice in the past week but she wasn’t home on either occasion. He had left his card the first time and his card with a brief note written on the back the second. But, as he hadn’t arranged to meet her, he couldn’t complain that he hadn’t heard from her although it was annoying. He did hope he hadn’t offended her or worse scared her but he wouldn’t apologize for kissing her. He wasn’t the least bit sorry. And while the kiss had been entirely too short to be certain of her reactions, she hadn’t seemed indignant afterward. Of course, he’d given her no opportunity to be. But damn it all, he did want to see her again. The only question was when.

Even finding the time to call on her hadn’t been easy; his father had kept him busier than he had ever imagined. The colonel belonged to an endless number of gentlemen’s clubs and diverse organizations. Colonel Basil Channing was a man of many and varied interests and was determined to acquaint his son with what seemed like each and every member of each and every organization. That, coupled with showing Jack everything there was to see in London from St. Paul’s to Westminster, and Jack had hardly had a moment to himself.

The shuffling of chairs snapped his attention back to the table. He rose to his feet and regretted his lack of attention. The other gentlemen headed toward the door.

His father turned to him. “Jack, are you going to join us in the billiards room?”

“There’s nothing like billiards and port after a good dinner,” Sir Hugo Tolliver said. He was the director of the Explorers Club and Jack had met him often enough during these last weeks in London to remember the man’s name. “I assume there will be cigars as well.”

His father scoffed. “Good God, Tolliver, when hasn’t there been?”

“I just wanted to make certain,” Sir Hugo muttered, and made his way out the door. “I’ll need a good cigar if we’re going to further discuss the blasted women’s issue. Fairer sex my . . .”

Most of his father’s friends were already out of the room and a chorus of groans echoed from the hall.

His father chuckled. “Sir Hugo is not what one would call progressive.”

“And do you think membership should be given to women?” Jack asked.

“I haven’t decided yet. I know any number of women who deserve membership but there’s a lot to consider.” He thought for a moment. “The world is changing, Jack. More so than ever before, I think. We would be fools to dig our heels in and not change with it. However, there is much to be said for not abandoning long-held tradition.”

“Excellent answer, Colonel.” Gray joined them, Sam a step behind him. “Are you sure Lionel is the politician in the family?”

“I’d rather face a herd of charging elephants than any single member of Parliament.” Father shuddered. “Well, gentlemen, shall we join the others?”

“If you don’t mind, Colonel, Gray and I would like to have a few words with Jack,” Sam said with a smile. “We have a couple of questions, financial questions, that have come up regarding the, oh, financing of the company we’re creating to produce the motorwagon.”

Jack narrowed his gaze. Sam and Gray were both successful and accomplished in business and finance. They were far more experienced in matters of an entrepreneurial nature than he was. “I don’t think—”

“And who better than a banker to advise us,” Gray added quickly.

“Who better indeed.” His father nodded. “I assume you’ll be chatting in the conservatory then?”

“That was the idea, sir.” Gray smiled weakly.

“Grayson, you know where the cigars are?”

Gray nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t set the place on fire.”

Gray grinned. “I believe you told me the same thing when I was seventeen.”

“And?”

“It wasn’t me.” Gray shook his head.

“Hmph.” Father cast Gray a skeptical look and started after his friends, pausing at the doorway. “Tell me one thing, gentlemen. Is it the age of the rest of us, the generation difference and all that, or have you just tired of the stories?”

“Oh, we would never tire of the stories, Colonel,” Gray said quickly.

“And this is the first time I’ve heard them,” Sam added.

He looked at his son. “Jack?”

“They are excellent stories, sir.” He chose his words with care. “Filled with adventures generally of a perilous nature. They’re not the kind of stories you tire of hearing.”

“Even if you’ve heard several of them more than once since you’ve been in London?”

“Knowing the end just makes them more enjoyable,” Jack said staunchly. He would never want to insult his father’s friends but if he heard one more story involving a tiger, a head hunter, or even a runaway Indian princess—although he was curious as to why there were so many runaway Indian princesses—he would run screaming through the streets of London himself. Even if that would just provide the older gentlemen one more story to tell.

“That’s what I thought. There’s a bit of the politician in you as well.” Father chuckled. “Don’t forget the brandy.” He nodded at a decanter on the sideboard.

“We would never forget the brandy,” Sam murmured, handing three glasses to Jack and grabbing the decanter.

“Enjoy yourselves, gentlemen,” the colonel said and took his leave.

“Come on then, men.” Gray led the way toward the conservatory through the maze of the mansion’s rooms, one leading directly into the next. An arrangement Jack found extremely confusing. He still didn’t have his bearings in the grand London house his family had owned for generations. Fortunately, Gray knew the house fairly well. Jack and Sam trailed behind him.

“Why the conservatory?” Jack asked.

“Cigars are only allowed in the billiards room and your father and his friends are going to be there,” Gray said over his shoulder.

“And we thought you could use a break,” Sam added under his breath. “It must be exhausting to be the colonel’s son.”

“Exhausting is putting it mildly. Not that it hasn’t been enjoyable,” Jack added quickly. “And it’s a new experience, for both of us, this father-son business. We’re learning as we go along.”

“From what we’ve heard the colonel is keeping you busy.”

Jack snorted. “Between seeing every sight in London and meeting everyone who has ever crossed his path, frantic is a better term for it than merely busy.”

Gray pushed open the door to the conservatory. The room was nearly two stories, the outside walls almost entirely glass. The space was filled with an impressive variety of tropical plants, ferns, and any number of foliage Jack couldn’t identify. A large palm grew from a huge planter in the center of it all, soaring nearly to the glass ceiling. Jack had been in the conservatory once before to see the rare orchids his father had collected on a trip to South America. Gray circled the palm to a seating area on the far side of the room furnished with cushioned wicker chairs and tables. It was a perfect spot to read a book or contemplate the twists and turns of life, especially if one wanted privacy and didn’t want to be seen from the door. A perfect place to escape. Jack made a mental note of that for future reference.

Gray waved for the others to take a seat, then moved to a small decorative chest nearly hidden by a banana plant. A humidor if Jack’s suspicions were correct. Gray flipped open the lid, then chuckled. “I must say, I appreciate it when things are exactly where they’re supposed to be.”

He selected three cigars, a silver cigar cutter, and matches. A few minutes later all three men had a brandy in one hand, a cigar in the other, and were savoring the enjoyment of good cigars, fine brandy, and excellent companionship.

Jack blew a stream of smoke into the air. “I thought you said cigars were only allowed in the billiards room?”

“They are.” Gray puffed on his cigar. “This is the colonel’s secret supply. You might not have noticed but no one walking by the conservatory can see this spot. And the plants seem to either absorb or dissipate the smoke. Or perhaps they just hide it. I have no idea really. My cousin and I discovered this on a visit here when we were boys.” He paused. “It’s a good place to escape if one needs to.”

Jack smiled wryly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“So what are you thinking, Jack?” Gray asked in an overly casual manner.

“At the moment or overall?”

Gray shrugged. “Whatever you wish.”

“Well, at the moment, I’m thinking that Camille and or Delilah with urging from their mother or their father or both sent you here to ask that very question.”

Sam laughed. “He’s got you there.”

“You needn’t sound so smug.” Gray’s eyes narrowed at his friend. “They included you in this. One American to another was how they phrased it, if I recall.”

“And didn’t I say I had no intentions of spying on anyone?”

“We’re not spying.” Gray scoffed. “We’re coming straight out and asking him what his thoughts are on this new life he’s been thrust into.”

“Better us than anyone else.” Sam turned to Jack and met his gaze directly. “Gray and I have been friends for years. Now we find ourselves in a, I don’t know, a brotherhood of sorts or an exclusive club. Membership is limited to Gray and Lionel, who have married into this family, and now to me since I’m about to marry into it.”

“I suspected as much,” Jack said with a smile. “Congratulations.”

“He’s given her the most ostentatious sapphire ring.” Gray shook his head in a mournful manner. “So American of him.”

Jack laughed. “And damned proud of it.”

Gray sighed. “He makes the rest of us look bad.”

“That was the intention besides . . .” Sam puffed his cigar and blew a smoke ring toward the palm. “It matches her eyes.”

“The point is, even though you didn’t marry into the family, you have certainly joined it.” Gray settled back in his chair. “We know how difficult it is to be the newest member and we’re offering our support.”

Sam nodded. “And our friendship as well.”

“I’d like that.” It was only since Jack had left New York that it had dawned on him that, while he had any number of acquaintances, he couldn’t name a single friend or confidant. Aside from Lucy, that is. “But I thought your assignment was to ferret out information.”

“We can do both,” Gray said firmly. “Sam and I have already agreed to this. We won’t tell them anything you ask us to keep confidential.”

Jack’s gaze slid from one man to the next. He knew both men’s business reputations and, as far as he could recall, their honor and honesty had never been questioned. He could certainly use a few friends here. Especially men he could trust.

“Agreed then.” Jack raised his glass. “Friends it is.”

The other men returned his toast and fell into a companionable silence. But only for a moment.

“Now that we are friends,” Gray began, “as a friend, we would be appreciative—”

“Most appreciative,” Sam added.

“If you could give us something—”

“Anything. Anything at all.” Sam gestured with his cigar. “No matter how insignificant.”

“As much as I’d like to help you both out I’m not sure what I can tell you.” Jack thought for a moment. “It was all somewhat overwhelming when I first arrived and was greeted as, I don’t know, a prodigal son or a savior or something of that nature.”

“Understandable.” Sam nodded.

“I’m not used to feeling out of place.”

“Of course not,” Gray said.

“But . . .” Jack chose his words carefully. “I am starting to feel, not exactly at home, but more . . . relaxed, I would say.” Thanks in part to a spirited talking-to by Theodosia.