The Shocking Secret of a Guest at the Wedding (Millworth Manor) (34 page)

Jack grinned. “That should be interesting.”

“I don’t intend to lose.” Father eyed him firmly. “And neither should you.”

“Theodosia has plans for her life that don’t include me.”

“Change them.” Father nodded. “Love is a powerful force, Jack. You have that on your side.”

“It might not be enough.”

“I have faith in you, my boy.” Father studied him for a moment. “As I said, when you find your heart’s desire, you should let nothing stand in your way.”

“Even the lady herself?”

Father grinned. “Especially the lady herself.”

Jack laughed. His father was right, of course. But Theodosia was a stubborn woman. While he was fairly certain her feelings for him matched his for her, there was always the possibility he was wrong. Just because he had fallen in love for the first time in his life didn’t mean she had. Her affection for him might go no further than friendship.

No, Jack had always been able to judge the nature of a man. He was not wrong about this. The woman loved him whether she realized it or not.

Now, he just had to convince her.

“. . . and then, of course, the solicitor, being a solicitor,” Lionel continued, “could do little more but arrive at the obvious and yet completely far-fetched . . .”

Teddy surveyed the faces gathered around the table for Christmas Eve dinner, all focused at the moment on Beryl’s husband regaling them with a humorous legal tale of a man discovered to have more than one wife.

“. . . needless to say, wife number two was not at all amused by the . . .”

As entertaining as Lionel’s story was, Teddy’s mind wandered. In all the years she’d known this family, she never would have imagined one day they would all share a convivial Christmas Eve together. Of course, there had been a few trying moments in the last few days.

In spite of Dee’s observation as to the unexpected lack of friction at the manor, all was not perfect among the older ladies of the party. The first night of their arrival, there were tentative undercurrents among the three mothers. Silly of course. They were all of a comparable age and background and should have gone on quite well together. But as much as her mother and Lady Briston knew many of the same people and had similar interests there were still years of vague distrust to overcome. And while Mrs. Channing was cordial enough to Teddy, she had the distinct feeling that she was being evaluated and found wanting. It was obvious Jack’s mother preferred the annoyingly delightful Miss Merryweather as a more appropriate match for her son. Miss Merryweather—who had insisted Teddy call her by her given name—was as charming and lovely as everyone had said. Mrs. Channing’s preference for the young woman did not sit well with either Teddy’s mother or Lady Briston, not merely because Lady Briston was fond of Teddy but because Mrs. Channing’s preferences seemed something of a slap against the entire British Empire.

Jack found it all most amusing. During the first night of their stay, while they were gathered to sing Christmas carols in the parlor, he’d nudged Teddy with his elbow when a politely phrased, but no less deadly, barb was thrown between the three ladies. One would have thought they were natural enemies confined together against their will. The other men seemed to find it amusing as well especially given that it was all Teddy, Dee, and Camille could do to keep them singing along. It was very nearly impossible to snipe at one another while singing one of the glorious carols each and every lady knew and loved.

It might indeed have been the spirit of Christmas, or possibly each mother had decided, in the interest of the season, to make a concerted effort to get along with one another, but by the second day, overly polite comments had eased into genuine conversation. The ladies took part in an afternoon of skating on the frozen Millworth pond, admittedly with a fair amount of mutual trepidation. They put aside any reluctance to cooperate and worked together in finishing the decoration of the manor. And in an odd twist of fate that had the other members of the household holding their breaths, all three mothers ended up on the same team for an evening of games in the parlor. By the time they had soundly beaten the others at charades and tableaux and lookabout, their individual competitive natures had forged some sort of bond or at least an alliance. Now, one would have thought they’d been friends forever. Perhaps it was the inevitable result of compromise for the sake of their offspring. Or perhaps the ladies had at last recognized in each other kindred spirits. Or possibly it was indeed a true miracle of the season.

By the time Christmas Eve was upon them Teddy had decided to simply enjoy the revelry and enjoy Jack’s company as well. It wasn’t much of a plan as plans went but it was all she had. She refused to consider the question of whether or not she was in love with him, although it did seem that her heart leapt whenever he was in the room, and her pulse quickened when he so much as brushed her hand, and the thought of living her life without him lay like a heavy weight in the pit of her stomach.

“. . . and then of course wife number four—”

“I thought you said there were only three?” Surprise rang in Camille’s voice.

“Only in the beginning.” Lionel chuckled. “Our Mr. Benson was a bit of a traveling man, you see—”

Lucy gasped. “And did he have a wife in every port?”

“Very nearly.” Lionel chuckled. “And when wife number four was discovered, well, it led to . . .”

Dinner was a festive affair with spirited debate, much mirth, and the kind of good-natured teasing that can only occur when people care for one another. Teddy marveled that this family that had spent years celebrating Christmas apart now seemed completely comfortable in each other’s presence. In the midst of laughter over a recollection of Christmas past when Lady Briston had typically filled the house with acquaintances and even strangers who had nowhere else to go for Christmas, Jack’s amused gaze met hers and for a moment . . . for a moment it was hard to remember that they weren’t really engaged. They weren’t planning to spend the rest of their lives together. And they weren’t in love. A twinge of what might have been regret or remorse or sorrow stabbed Teddy and she tried to ignore it. But every time his gaze met hers, the oddest thing happened to her heart.

It was fitting that she and her mother were here, given Lady Briston’s history of welcoming those who had nowhere else to go to Millworth at Christmas. They had no family save Simon but they would not be here next year. While Teddy had spent a few Christmases here through the years, and was always made to feel like a member of the family, as were all the wanderers Lady Briston collected, she suspected they might not be welcomed back after she and Jack ended their engagement.

Still, Teddy and her mother had each other now thanks to Cyril. Cyril’s threat had wrought an unexpected change in Lady Sallwick, and Teddy’s engagement appeared to have given her mother a measure of serenity as well. This was not the mother she’d known for the last four years nor was Mother the woman she’d been before their lives had altered irrevocably with her father’s death. No, this woman had a strength about her and a determination Teddy had never before seen, and she realized they were more alike than she had ever imagined. While Teddy was certain Mother would not be happy when she broke it off with Jack, nor would she be pleased about Teddy’s plans for her future, she suspected her mother would be far more accepting now.

“. . . and of course, the rest of us agreed.” Lionel flashed an affectionate smile at his wife. “One wife was more than any man should have to handle.”

The table erupted in laughter and Teddy joined in, even if she had no idea how the story had ended.

Laughter and stories and the sharing of fond memories continued until at last Lady Briston declared dinner at an end. In the spirit of the evening, the gentlemen agreed to forgo their usual brandy and after-dinner cigars and joined the ladies in the parlor. Lady Briston’s special Christmas Eve punch was passed around and Lord Briston got to his feet.

“It has been a long time, a very long time, since this family has been together under one roof for Christmas Eve. And of course this is Jack’s first Christmas at Millworth.” His gaze passed over the gathering, over all three of his daughters and their respective spouses or, in Dee’s case, fiancé, and settled on his wife. “I am most grateful to be here and most thankful for all of you.” He nodded at his brother.

The colonel rose to his feet. “In the years my brother was away, Christmas was celebrated here without him and in spite of the sometimes crowded nature of the manor, thanks to Bernadette’s hospitality, there was still something missing. I suspect there always is when family isn’t together.” He paused for a long moment, then smiled wryly. “My brother knew what he was missing in the years he was not with us and tonight, for the first time, I know as well what it’s like to have your child and your wife together at Christmas. And our company is only enhanced by the addition of our very good friends, our dear Theodosia and Adelaide and Lucy. Thank you all for making this a Christmas Eve I will never forget.” He raised his glass. “To family and friends.”

The toast and the sentimentality echoed around the room and Teddy suspected she was not the only one with a tear in her eye.

The colonel cleared his throat. “Nigel and I would like to renew a Christmas Eve tradition we had as boys here at Millworth.”

“Dear Lord, not a tradition,” Beryl said under her breath.

“When we were children,” the colonel continued, “Christmas Eve was spent in the telling of tales of those who had gone before.” He paused in the manner of a master storyteller. “Those who are still with us.”

Dee groaned.

“Ghost stories?” Camille’s eyes lit with excitement. “I love ghost stories.”

“As do we all, dear,” Lady Briston said with a smile. “Go on, Basil.”

“Actually, we thought I’d begin,” Lord Briston said. “And we shall start with the story of lovers torn apart.”

“Thomas and Anne?” Dee brightened.

“Of course.” Her father chuckled and launched into the story of the star-crossed lovers, one from Millworth, the other from a nearby estate, who had to wait for death to be reunited, and the various times they had been seen at the manor and on the grounds.

Teddy had heard the story before and spent most of the time watching Jack listen to his uncle although she thought he had heard it before too. Someday he would probably tell this story to his children. Children with dark hair and blue eyes who had their father’s intelligence and sense of responsibility and his laugh. Children he would have with some other woman. Her throat tightened and she ignored it.

When the story of the long-ago lovers had ended, Colonel Channing launched into another, this one about spirits he and his brother had seen as children who were substantially more frightening than poor Thomas and Anne.

Midway through the story, Jack caught her gaze and nodded toward the hall, then he quietly left the parlor. She waited another moment and then slipped out to join him. He met her by the grand tree that, as always, had been set up and decorated in the gallery.

“You should be listening to this, Jack,” she said in a hushed tone. “After all it’s your heritage.”

He chuckled. “I suspect I’ll have more than enough time in the future to catch up on all the spirits inhabiting Millworth but right now, I have something else I wish to do.”

“Oh?” She gazed up at him.

“I’m afraid I’ve made a dreadful mistake.”

She raised a brow. “Have you?”

“I have.” He nodded. “I—”

“I am sorry to interrupt.” Mrs. Channing’s voice sounded behind Teddy. “But I’m not sure if I’ll have another chance.”

“Perhaps I should leave the two of you—”

“No dear, stay,” Mrs. Channing said firmly. “I’ll only be a minute. Besides, you’re the most important woman in his life now which is as it should be.”

“What is it, Mother?” Jack asked with a smile.

“I know you’ll never quite forgive me but you did say we could move on from here.”

He nodded. “I did.”

“Your father and I, well . . .” She drew a deep breath. “We have decided, as we both made mistakes in the past, and yes I do realize the most egregious of those were on my part,” she added quickly. “At any rate, we’ve decided to try to start over. As friends initially and see where that might take us.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “And Uncle Dan?”

“He and I had a long talk after you left New York. Several actually.” She clasped her hands together. “I owed him as great an apology as I did you and your father.” She paused. “Oddly enough, Daniel had always suspected that my true affections lay elsewhere. He had always thought it was lingering grief and in a way I think it was.” She shook her head. “I suppose I never truly got over your father although I did try. For thirty years I tried but . . .”

“Mother—”

“You’re so very much like him. Which is probably why I never wanted to share you.” She studied her son for a long moment. “I can’t make amends for the past but there is one thing I would like to do.” She stepped away, bent down, and pulled a small, wrapped parcel from under the tree. “I brought something for you. I can’t give you back the lost years but I thought you might want to have these.” She handed Jack the package.

He hefted it in his hand. “What is this?”

“These are the letters you wrote to your father at Christmas.”

A lump lodged in Teddy’s throat.

Jack stared. “How did you know? I never told anyone about these.”

“I’m your mother.” She shrugged. “I know everything. I thought you might want to give them to your father.”

Jack stared at the packet for a long moment, then met his mother’s gaze. “Thank you.”

“It’s little enough . . . I . . .” A slight smile lifted the corners of Mrs. Channing’s lips. “I should be returning to the others. I would hate to miss the ghost of Christmas past or whoever the next story might be about.” Her gaze shifted between her son and Teddy. “I assume the two of you will be in momentarily.”

Teddy nodded.

“Good.” She turned to go, then turned back. “Merry Christmas, son.”

“Merry Christmas, Mother.” He stepped toward her, kissed her cheek, then murmured something in her ear.

Her eyes widened slightly, then she sniffed, nodded, and started back to the parlor.

Jack stared at the packet in his hand. “Well, that was . . . unexpected.”

“And quite wonderful.”

“Yes, it was,” he said softly. “It doesn’t really change anything but . . .”

“But I do think she’s trying.”

“Then I can do no less.” He shook his head. “I had no idea . . .”

“You forgave her, didn’t you?”

“Well, she is my mother.” He tucked the packet of letters in his waistcoat pocket.

“You’re a good man, Jackson Channing.” Without thinking she laid her hand on his cheek and gazed into his blue eyes. “It’s been an honor and a privilege to be your fiancée, even if it wasn’t real.” She drew a deep breath and stepped back. “We should really return—”