Three Weeks to Wed (17 page)

Though she had gone to Stanwood Hall to help Grace's mother and remained, she was not a poor relation. She chuckled to herself. Perhaps she should hire her own companion and travel. As much as Grace thought she would still want Jane to stay with the family, it was time for her to live her own life.

“Oy, lady. Watch where ye're goin'.”

Before she knew what was happening, She was being hauled up and away from the street. A swift-moving sporting carriage passed where she'd been mere moments ago. Stupid, reckless driver. Did no one watch where they were going, and why was she still being held?

The scent of lemon verbena mixed with mint tickled her nose. No lady's perfume. Only one man she'd ever known used that particular scent, but he'd left years ago. She was slowly lowered to the pavement. The moment her feet touched the ground, she turned. A man, only a few inches taller than herself, gazed down at her with serious gray eyes.

The same color gray as a storm cloud, and just as changeable. “
Hector?
”

“Jane?” he said as if she were the only “Jane” in the world. “By all that is holy, it is you.”

Long ago memories slammed into her, robbing her of breath. “How long have you been back?”

“Less than a week.” He stared at her, yet she didn't know what to make of his look.

He had filled out in the last twenty years. His complexion, a reddish-brown, carried the remnants of India. Other than that, his dear face was the same, lightly rounded and cheerful. Older to be sure, but so was hers.

Surely he had married, but Jane found she could not ask the question. “How are you?”

“I'm much better now.” He linked her arm in his. “Where are you going? I shall accompany you.” When she hesitated, he asked, “Unless you're married, that is.”

“No. I never married. You?”

His eyes sparkled with humor as they used to. “The same. I couldn't find a woman who could hold a candle to you, Janie.”

The nickname only he called her took her back to days of her first Season, before her father had thrown him out of the house for daring to ask for her hand. If only she'd had the strength of character to elope with him, yet that would have been difficult as he hadn't asked. “I mostly left the house to think.”

“Is it that noisy where you live?”

He said it as if she were living in a boardinghouse. Jane couldn't resist the temptation to tease him. “There are a number of children and more coming.”

Hector stopped. His concerned gaze bore into her, still it was all she could do to keep from laughing. “Never tell me you're a matron at an orphan hospital!”

Jane patted his arm. “No, nothing so drastic. I have been acting as companion to one of my cousins who has guardianship of her brothers and sisters. There are a great many of them.” He opened his mouth to speak, and she hurried on. “Now it appears that she will marry, and it is time for me to make my own life.”

They began ambling down the street again.

“A paid companion.” His tone was grim. “What the devil was your father thinking?”

“No, indeed. You mistake the matter.” A giggle escaped Jane's lips. How good it felt to stroll with Hector again.

His tone was severe, but his lips twitched. He never remained solemn for long. “I have a feeling you're making a May game of me, Miss Carpenter.”

“Well, perhaps a small one. I offered my assistance. My cousin needed help after her husband died, and I was free at the time. I stayed when she passed and her daughter, Grace, took over. Papa left me with a generous competence. As a matter of fact, before he died, he apologized for not allowing us to wed.”

“I thought he had selected a husband for you?” The corners of Hector's lips turned down in a rare show of irritation. “If I'd had any idea you had been left alone all this time . . . well, let's just say I would have sent for you.”

“I hardly call living in a house with seven children being alone.”

“You know what I mean,” he said, his voice gruff. “What happened to the husband?”

“I refused to marry the man.” Jane felt herself straighten a bit. As she had when, for the first time in her life, she'd defied her father. “He refused to believe me until he dragged me into church that day, and I said no, I would not have that man as my husband.”

Hector's deep laugh began in his stomach. The same laugh she had missed for so long. “I would have loved to see his face. Hoisted by his own petard.”

“Exactly. The vicar asked why I'd changed my mind, and I told him I had not. I had never agreed to the marriage in the first place.”

His face had regained its jovial mien. “I take it he didn't attempt to beat you?”

“No, you know, or rather knew Papa.” She sighed. “He would never resort to physical violence. There was a huge brouhaha, mostly my father shouting. He threatened to throw me out of the house, but my mother's aunt, I don't think you ever met her, a bluestocking who held weekly salons of artists and writers, said she'd take me in. Well, that ended that.”

“Did he ever try to make a match for you again?” Hector's gaze slanted down at Jane.

“No. He made suggestions, of course, but I turned them down.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “After all, how could I wed one man when I was already in love with another?” They had been walking on Maddox Street and had reached the corner of Davies Street. Hector had been quiet since she basically announced that she had waited for him. Jane's stomach was performing acrobatics. “I live in Berkeley Square.”

“I shall do myself the honor of escorting you home.”

She gave a tight nod. Perhaps she should not have been so open, yet seeing Hector again brought all the memories and feelings rushing back.

They had reached the square before he said. “Janie, I should like to court you. I know I'm not the specimen I used to be, and I'm an old bachelor with the attendant problems, but if you could see your way . . .”

His face had grown red. Tears pricked Jane's eyes. “I'm not the same as I was either, and I am a spinster and set in my habits as well, but there is nothing I would like more than for you to court me.”

As they stared at each other, the years slipped away. Hector patted her hand twice. “I'm not sure how to go about this.”

“You could ask me to walk in the Park, or take me to Gunter's for an ice cream.”

“I ordered a curricle that will be delivered to-day. Would you ride with me in the Park to-morrow, Miss Carpenter?”

Where was her handkerchief when she required it? Jane sniffed and smiled. “I would be delighted, Mr. Addison.”

Charlotte hailed Louisa from a bench in the middle of Berkeley Square. “It's no use. I knocked on Grace's door, and she sent me away.”

“Matt's the same.” Louisa bit her lip. “He's locked himself in his study and our butler won't even let us down the corridor. I did try to go through the garden, but was stopped.” She plopped down on the bench next to Charlotte. “I wonder if they have quarreled.”

Charlotte sat up. “I hope it is nothing to do with the guardianship.”

“That would certainly upset them, but you'd think they would mope together.”

“It's beyond me. If they do not work it out shortly, we will have to become involved. Do you go to Lady Huntingdon's party to-morrow?”

“Yes.” Louisa smiled. “Our first real entertainment. I can barely wait for our first ball!”

A sporting carriage drove up to Worthington House and a gentleman with a many-capped greatcoat climbed down and threw the reins to a small boy dressed in livery. “Louisa, someone's just driven up to your house.”

Louisa peered in the direction Charlotte pointed, then sat back. “Him? It is only Merton.”

“I like his carriage, and his horses are very sweet goers. They look to be perfectly matched.”

“No doubt they are.” Louisa gave a bored sigh. “He insists
everything
be perfect.”

Charlotte glanced at her friend. “That sounds a bit daunting. What is wrong with him?”

“It is not that anything is so very
wrong
with him. It's just that he is a marquis and
never
lets anyone forget it.
And
he is our cousin, so we are forever being reminded of it.”

“Hmm, in that case, I suppose he's not worth knowing. I dislike anyone who is puffed up in their own consequence.”

“That he certainly is. He is a couple of years younger than Matt and very high in the instep.”

“I detest people who cannot be pleased.” Charlotte glanced back over to Worthington House.

“I am in complete agreement. What are you wearing to-morrow evening?” Louisa asked.

“I think I shall wear my green muslin with the butterflies. Would you like to see it?”

“Since we will probably spend much of the evening together, let us coordinate our gowns.”

Charlotte rose and signaled to her footman. “It will be more productive than anything else we could do at the moment.”

“Agreed.” Louisa stood, linking her arm with Charlotte's.

“If Grace and Matt do not start speaking to each other soon, I think Walter should scale the garden wall.”

“While we keep Matt's butler busy at the front door.”

“That should do the trick.”

* * *

“I do not recall,” Matt said, glowering at his butler, Thorton, “that a visit from the Marquis of Merton qualifies as the house burning down.”

“No, my lord, but he was rather insistent.”

“He always is.” Matt resisted running his fingers through his hair. It was enough that Grace was still cool toward him, and now he had to deal with his cousin. “One would think a butler of your stature could be relied upon to keep upstarts from entering my study.”

Thorton's teeth clenched together, as he bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

“Your lips are twitching. I can see them.” Damn, no reaction at all.

“My lord.” He shut the door behind him.

The Marquis of Merton disposed himself gracefully in a chair.

Matt frowned. “Well, Dom, what do you want?”

“Is that any way to treat the head of the family?” Merton said in an aggrieved tone.

“You're not on about that again?” Matt, whose feet had been on his desk, moved them to the floor. He placed his elbows on his desk, leaned forward. “Since you seem to have forgot again, let me remind you.
You
are not the head of
my
family. The titles are separate. They always have been. I'll take leave to remind you that my title is older than yours. In addition, if you are going to take that tone with me, you may take your leave forthwith.”

Merton flicked open his snuffbox with one hand and drawled, “What has you in such a foul mood?”

“If you must know”—Matt rose, made his way to the sideboard, poured two glasses of brandy, handed one to Merton, then resumed his seat—“it has to do with a lady.”

His cousin raised a delicate brow. Worthington wouldn't be surprised if his valet plucked them. “My dear cousin, ladies are never worth the trouble.”

He was going to wring Merton's neck. Actually, it would be the highlight of Matt's day. And probably do England a favor as well. “I'll thank you to keep your nasty tongue to yourself. I'm going to marry the lady in question.”

Merton jerked up, almost sloshing his brandy. “
What?
”

Matt gave his cousin a wicked smile. If he couldn't see Grace, he might as well have some fun. “That got you off your high horse.”

“With good reason.” Merton tried and failed to resume a languid pose. “When did this come about?”

Rubbing his forehead, Matt glanced at his cousin. Why the devil did Merton have to show up now? “I should have married her years ago.”

“Do I know her?” Merton took out his snuffbox, flicked it open again with one finger as if he was practicing, and took a pinch.

“Probably not. She is Lady Grace Carpenter.”

His cousin frowned. “Stanwood?”

“Yes, the current earl's elder sister.”
Who won't admit me into her presence right now.

Merton saluted Matt. “To your health.”

Matt grinned. “To my health. Are you going to tell me what brings you to Town? I thought you'd decided to travel abroad.”

Merton sighed. “My mother. She's taken it into her head I must marry. Consequently, I'm here to look at the latest crop of young ladies.”

“You're only twenty-eight, what is her hurry?”

“Lord, I wish I knew.” He settled back into his chair. “You don't think she's got wind of your betrothal, do you?”

“Anything's possible. As long as you stay away from the two young ladies I'm responsible for, I wish you luck with the rest. It shouldn't be too hard. Just be sure to remind them you're a marquis.”

Merton did rake his fingers through his perfectly coifed hair. “Am I never to live that down?”

Worthington grinned. “Not in this family.”

“Fine way to treat the head of the family,” Merton grumbled.

Matt's good humor fled, and anger he was an idiot for feeling, surged through him. “You,” he bellowed, pointing at his cousin, “are not the head of
my
family.”

Why was he even putting up with the man? He really didn't want Merton here now. Matt needed to figure out what to do about Grace. He'd be damned if she was going to treat him with that oppressive civility for God only knew how long.

“I told you they'd let his marquisship in.” The sound of Theodora's disgusted tone carried from the other side of the door as only a child's can.

Matt chuckled as Merton rubbed his temples. Thank God for Theo.

Glancing up with a pained expression, he asked, “Which one is that?”

Good, let him have a headache. He'd caused enough of them. “Theodora and she probably has Mary with her.”

“Mary?”

Merton was in for it this time. Theo didn't like him at all. “Yes, one of Grace's sisters.”

“We wish to see my brother.” Theo must be talking to Thorton. No one else would spend so much time arguing with her. “If you allowed his marquisship in, then we should be able to go in as well.”

Merton groaned and tossed off his brandy. “She couldn't have been more than three or four. Doesn't anyone in your family forget anything?”

Matt laughed. “Apparently not.” He smiled broadly. “Thorton, let them in.”

Theodora, with Mary trailing close behind, rushed in the room. His sister glanced intently at Merton, narrowed her eyes, then turned to Matt.

Although he appreciated the gesture, Patience would have his head if he let Theo get away with cutting his cousin. “Theo, stop and bid Lord Merton good day.”

Her lips set tightly together.

Matt snapped his brows together. “If you do not do as I say, you will go to your room and remain there until the morning.”

Casting him a resentful sidelong look, she curtseyed. “Good day your m—”

“Theodora. Properly.”

“My lord.”

Merton stood and bowed. Not an inkling of his consternation showed on his face. “Good day to you as well, Lady Theodora. I beg you to introduce me to your friend.”

“Mary, allow me to introduce Lord Merton. My lord, this is my friend, Lady Mary Carpenter.”

The two girls lost no time dashing behind the desk. Theo stood next to Matt, while he helped Mary climb onto his lap. He glanced from one girl to the other. “Now, what's so important?”

Mary gazed up at him with her big, blue eyes. “Grace isn't happy, and she won't let anyone in.” She played with one of the buttons on his jacket. “And you wouldn't let anyone in. We can't go to the Park without permission, and we need to go run so we don't drive everyone to Bedlam.”

“Ah-ha. Very well. I'll take you.” He frowned. “Did you walk over here alone?”

His sister huffed. “No, we have a footman.”

“Good girls. Go back over and tell everyone to be ready in ten minutes.” He gave Mary a kiss on her head. Theo kissed his cheek. Once he'd set Mary down, he stood. “Merton, you may accompany us if you'd like.”

“There is one small matter.” Merton rose and addressed Matt tentatively. “I wondered if I might stay with you for a bit.”

Damn, damn, and double damn. “Why?”

Glancing down at his nails, Merton replied. “My mother is not coming to Town, and I don't wish to open Merton House up so that I can rattle around in it alone.”

Matt's jaw clenched.
The devil!
“How long?”

Refusing to meet his eyes, Merton responded, “I'm not exactly sure.”

“You may remain here for two nights. After that, we'll discuss it. You haven't picked the best time to visit, without even a letter letting me know.”

“Of course, thank you. If it doesn't work out, I shall move to a hotel.”

If Merton stayed for very long, it may not be the children driving Matt and Grace to Bedlam. “We need to go.” He got Duke, strode out of the house and across the square. Merton trailed behind him. When he entered Stanwood House, the children were assembled in the entrance hall. Matt counted. “We're missing two.”

Royston bowed. “No, my lord. Lady Charlotte and Lady Louisa have gone shopping.”

Matt raised a brow of inquiry.

“My lord, they have taken their maids and two footmen. I expect them back any moment now.”

He nodded. “Very well. Is Daisy ready?”

Daisy dashed into the hall and, in trying to come to a stop, slid on the polished marble tiles and landed inelegantly at his feet. Matt glanced down and was hard put not to laugh as she gazed up at him smiling. “Lead?”

“Here, my lord.” Harold handed it to Matt. “Thank you. You take Duke. I'll see if I can teach this young lady some manners.” He turned to the others. “The rest of you, two by two, holding hands. I want four footmen.”

As the children filed out of the house, followed by the liveried footmen, Merton had a pained expression on his face. “Eight children?”

“Eleven. As you no doubt heard, the two eldest girls are shopping. Stanwood is at Eton.”

“Isn't this type of outing rather below your dignity?”

“Not at all.” Matt grinned evilly. “And if you think it below yours, you may return to Worthington House, or do whatever else you'd like to do. Though you'll probably be ostracized as chickenhearted.”

“I won't cry off.” Merton ran a finger under his neckcloth. “A nice walk will be just the thing.”

By the time they reached the Park, Matt thought everything was going so well, he was even in charity with his cousin.

“Good girl, Daisy.” Matt patted the dog. Finally, she was heeling.

The children had paired off. Philip, Theo, and Mary were kicking a ball around. The boy who'd started the fight with Walter approached, said something, then held out his hand. He and Walter shook.
Good lads.

Matt decided to spend some time training Daisy. After a few minutes, she pranced daintily beside him, showing off her new skill. Matt didn't understand why Grace had so many problems with the Dane. All she needed was a firm hand.

They'd almost made it to where the older girls were sitting when Matt's arm was practically jerked out of the socket, and he was in danger of falling. He hauled back on Daisy's leash, as she lunged again after a squirrel.

“Matt, are you all right?” The twins, Augusta, and Madeline rushed up to him.

He tightened his grip on the dog as she charged the squirrel, now on a lower branch of the tree chattering.

“Daisy!” He walked away from the tree, turning her so that she could not avoid looking at him, and used his most severe tone. “A well-behaved young lady does not attempt to dislocate her master's shoulder.”

She gave him a sorrowful look, and he was tempted to delude himself into thinking she understood, but just at that moment, the damned rodent scampered down the tree, and she tried to take off again. This time he was ready for her.