One Whisper Away (15 page)

When he trailed off, Jonathan supplied, “But I am not an English blueblood despite my rank and I happen to openly acknowledge my daughter, who was born out of wedlock.”

His cousin muttered, “Yes, only I was not going to say it so bluntly. We are not just related, you and I, we are friends. If Lady Cecily is your choice in a wife, I applaud it. However, be prepared for an obstacle or two.”

“I am going to call on the duke this afternoon.”

James set aside his fork, folding his hands on the linen tablecloth. “Wait a moment. Does this mean you’ve changed your mind about your desire to return to America?”

“No.”

His cousin frowned. “I am surprised that Lady Cecily has consented to leave England.”

“She hasn’t. I haven’t even discussed that aspect of the arrangement with her yet.”

“God forbid reason should enter into this, but I think perhaps you should.”

“I’ve seen the way society works.” Jonathan nodded at the footman offering more coffee. “Men and women often go their separate ways. I’ll need to return to England quite often anyway.”

From across the table James just stared at him. “You need to sire an heir. Rather difficult to do when apart.”

“Does it bother you that I am thinking of marrying?” That hadn’t really occurred to him. James was such a fair-minded individual and, truthfully, had seemed relieved upon Jonathan’s arrival to abdicate the responsibilities he had shouldered for nearly a year. He still managed some of the estate affairs but was not responsible for everything, as it had been.

“Of course not. I was thinking of logistics on your part, not my personal gain. Devil take it, Jon, you know that. I’ve never coveted the title. I’m just stating with all due logic that an ocean between you might be a problem.”

Actually, he
did
know it. “I’ll need to spend at least a few months a year here regardless.”

“And that will be enough for your wife?”

“Why not?” he asked, reasonably enough he thought, for truly the English aristocracy had a habit of detaching passion from marriage. “I can let you and the solicitors manage the business and estates in general, and I can return to my own life between my visits.”

James set his cup aside very carefully. His eyes, which were very blue, like Lillian’s, held a certain hint of amusement. “Can I say first that I think you are mad? You truly believe it will work that way?”

He had no idea. But he did know he wasn’t going to participate in a fake engagement. He desired Cecily—more than desired her—and if he needed a wife, she would be ideal. No, she would be
perfect
.

Besides, he wanted her in his arms and in his bed.

“Why wouldn’t it?” He helped himself to a grilled tomato and some bacon. “Plenty of men enter into marriage in the same exact fashion. Sea captains, soldiers—”

“You are neither one,” James interrupted without ceremony, picking up his cup. “I can’t see you leaving your wife behind for months at a time either. If you know as much about society marriages as you claim, you will realize that once a woman has given her husband a male child, she enjoys a great deal of latitude. Affairs are the order of the day. Would you be willing to allow that?”

Never
.

It was a primal reaction to the idea of Cecily with any other man. Jonathan shook his head. “I highly doubt she’d ever consider infidelity. That isn’t her nature.”

“How can you possibly know that?” James was, as ever, pragmatic and matter-of-fact. “You’re infatuated, but let’s look at this realistically. You aren’t that well acquainted, Jon. You’ve been around her only a few times . . . enough for an indiscretion apparently, but—”

“I’m not infatuated,” he said irritably.

“Aren’t you? I believe you just told me you are going to marry the young woman.”

A valid point. Jonathan took a moment, sipping his coffee, and then finally admitted, “Lust can be a powerful incentive. Fine, I concede the infatuation. Why not? She’s bright and beautiful.”

“I wasn’t arguing that in the least. She’s most definitely one of the most notable debutantes of this season and it will be a coup if you can convince her father to approve your suit.”

That was the same argument he’d used to Cecily. She was remarkably without prejudice for a blue-blooded English lady. Perhaps she was naive enough to expect the same from her family. “Like I said, she seems to think he’ll agree.”

“That depends on how much the duke dotes on his lovely daughter. I’m going to guess he won’t particularly approve without some coercion.”

One of the attributes Jonathan had always appreciated in his cousin was that James had the ability to look at life in a straightforward fashion and didn’t dissemble. With a cynical lift of a brow, he murmured, “I shouldn’t expect a warm welcome then, when I call on His Grace, hat in hand?”

Across the polished mahogany of the breakfast table, James said mildly, “I’m going to venture a guess that it won’t be a certainty that he’ll approve.” Then he elaborated. “I’m not telling you anything you don’t know when I mention you are not a typical Englishman.”

That was true enough. “No.”

“You’ve caused a bit of gossip already over Lady Cecily. He won’t be kindly disposed if he’s heard any of it.”

“True.” It wasn’t anything he hadn’t already thought of himself.

“You do have a solid fortune.”

“I do,” Jonathan remarked with studied equanimity, sitting back and buttering a piece of toasted bread. “Not just the one my father left me but the one I made myself. But what does it matter? The Duke of Eddington doesn’t need my money.”

“Nor do you need his. That’s a point in your favor.”

“To offset my questionable background?”

“Maybe.” James sent him a challenging look. “How much are you prepared to fight for her?”

“Should I have to? I don’t know if you are informed or not, but a woman can make a thousand pounds should she coerce me into a compromising position.”

“I’ve heard.” James laughed. “Did you think I wouldn’t? This is the
ton
, after all. You turned down Valerie Dushane. No one can quite believe it.”

“Lady Irving is a bit forward for my tastes.” That was putting it mildly. Since that incident when the lady had popped up in his bed, he’d fended off more than a few of her enthusiastic friends. Now that he knew the game, it was easy to spot those who were playing.

“You might have done yourself a favor and just bedded one of them.” James picked up his coffee. “I know it sounds like licentious advice, but at least it would no longer be on the tip on everyone’s tongue.”

“Cecily might hear of it.”

“So? You are not yet engaged.”

His attempt at an uncaring shrug didn’t work.

James set down his cup abruptly, his brow furrowed. “If her feelings concern you that much, you are in trouble, my friend.”

Jonathan had the uncomfortable feeling that his cousin was absolutely correct.

 

The care with which she dressed gave away a good deal, she supposed. Eleanor’s face said so, and truthfully, Cecily didn’t particularly mind. She was pleased with the topaz lute-string gown that exactly matched the color of her eyes and her pale hair was caught up in an elegant coil a bit elaborate for midafternoon. Reaching for the crystal bottle holding her favorite perfume, she said lightly, “Will his lordship be impressed?”

“Remembering his remark on the night of the musicale, while he wasn’t guilty of it then, he might just ravish you on the floor of the drawing room this time.” Elle’s voice was dry. “Which will still cause quite a sensation. Augustine must have truly impressed you to warrant all this concern with detail.”

“It is just a day gown.” Cecily shrugged.

“Your best. And all the attention to your hair and the fifteen minutes spent trying on different slippers have a unique significance. Usually you simply let your maid select a gown, Ci.”

Since she had no idea of what alternate plan Jonathan might have, she said, “I am hoping perhaps he will offer for me.”

Her sister’s expression stayed neutral. Too carefully neutral in her opinion. “I see. I was under the impression that Father rather favored Lord Drury’s proposal.”

What a perfect window of opportunity. Cecily dabbed a bit of perfume on her wrist and set the bottle aside, turning around on the small silk-covered bench before her dressing table. “If Augustine does come up to scratch, will you please take my side?” She searched for the right words that would tactfully explain why she didn’t wish to marry Elijah Winters and yet not insult him in any way to the woman who she believed wanted desperately to become his wife. She clasped her hands together and sighed. “Lord Drury is a very nice man. He’s quite handsome also, and has an attractive laugh, and as far as I can tell, he would never be unkind, or rude and abrasive, and there is no doubt his manners are impeccable, but truthfully, Elle, I am not romantically interested in him.”

Her sister’s lashes lowered a fraction. She was sitting comfortably on the bed, her ankles crossed, her gown a demure pale pink muslin that made her look young and fresh. “I confess I don’t see why you’d prefer Augustine over his lordship.”

Ah, that is at least close to an admission
.
Well, maybe not close, but a step closer.

“Do you not think the earl is handsome in a different, exotic sort of way?” Cecily asked. “I find myself quite breathless around him for some reason.”

That might be a bit of exaggeration. Or it might not. When she thought about the way he’d kissed her . . .

He’d certainly left her breathless then.

“Perhaps he takes you by surprise with his unpredictable behavior.” Eleanor softened the comment with a twitch of a smile. “He’s dangerous, I’m sure, and not in the manner of the general perception. Whether or not he keeps a knife strapped in his boot and rides the streets of London at night, honestly—you know little about him. Certainly not enough to actually
marry
him.”

“Because he’s generally considered a heathen and a savage as well?”

It was odd, but the conversation suddenly shifted. Cecily hadn’t realized how defensive she was on the subject.

“Of course not,” Eleanor shot back. “I didn’t say that at all. I’ve mentioned to you before I think he is a very attractive man. I just wonder how practical it is of you to expect a proposal of marriage from a person who has shown no inclination that he wishes to take a wife, much less an English one. Lord Drury is a much better prospect.”

“Perhaps
you
think so.”

Now
that
was quite a direct observation. A perfect opening if a confidence was forthcoming.

Instead of taking advantage of it, Eleanor said slowly, “I doubt my thoughts are all that relevant. We are speaking of your future, not mine.”

This was getting tricky, but the timing did seem right. “Perhaps, but I am curious. Why would you marry Lord Drury instead of the infamous Earl Savage?”

Her sister was evidently at a loss for words—which for Eleanor was not a usual occurrence.

Cecily went on. “He’s quite eligible, of course, but not wealthier. He’s merely a viscount whereas Augustine is an earl, and I am going to guess they are quite close to the same age. I fail to see why Drury is the more promising prospect. You must admit Augustine is a bit more . . . dashing, maybe? No, for
dashing
implies deliberate charm and Jonathan doesn’t set out to charm anyone. I’ll settle for
exciting
. His less-polished edge means you can’t quite know what to expect. You’re correct—he’s unpredictable.”

“Whereas Lord Drury is
extremely
charming.” Eleanor’s jaw stuck out at a stubborn angle.

“Compared to Augustine’s lesser finesse, I suppose that is true.” Cecily held back a smile at the way her sister bristled over any criticism of the viscount. “But you have to admit he doesn’t have the same brand of forceful masculinity.”

“He’s a gentleman.”

“And Jonathan doesn’t even pretend to that label.”

“Not that I have noticed. He kissed you.”

“Please don’t tell me you think that even the finest gentleman would not kiss a lady given the opportunity.” Cecily raised a brow.

“Lord Drury would not.”

“What a disappointment.”

“Ci!” Eleanor tried to sound scandalized, but she burst out laughing instead.

In answer, Cecily checked her appearance one more time, smoothed her golden skirts, and turned back. “Do you really think he will want to ravish me?”

“What I think is that you haven’t paid this much attention to your wardrobe in a very long time, if ever.” Eleanor’s smile turned wistful. “I’m rather jealous, actually.”

“Why?” The question was soft and had nothing to do with her new gown.

When Eleanor hesitated, Cecily wondered if her sister might actually confide in her, but in the end she merely shook her head. “Though I am not positive I agree with your choice, you are falling in love. That alone is to be celebrated, for as Shakespeare penned so eloquently,
O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou
. But keep in mind, once first flush of it passes, you will be tied to the man of your choosing forever.”

“So will you, when you marry.”
Tread cautiously
, Cecily reminded herself.

“I . . .” Eleanor began to say but faltered at the last instant.

There was a discreet knock on the door that interrupted the moment, and when Cecily moved to answer it, one of the maids stood there. “You have callers, my lady.”

A ripple of anticipation moved through her, though the plural was a bit disconcerting. “I will be down directly, Mary.”

Cecily glanced at where her sister perched on the bed. “Tell me you won’t leave me to make conversation with both of them alone, Elle.”

 

It was awkward as hell to arrive simultaneously with Lord Drury, but there wasn’t much help for it, and as far as Jonathan could tell from what he’d heard, it happened often enough when two gentlemen were interested in the same young lady. Both stood in the grand ducal drawing room, the viscount aloof and tense, though Jonathan found he himself was personally more resigned than anything else to the unconcealed dislike in the other man’s eyes.