Chapter Six
On the second day after their return to London, Jason sent a messenger to his brother’s home. Patrick and his wife had recently welcomed their second child, a baby girl, and Jason’s mother was staying with them to assist. Jason’s message invited them to an impromptu dinner, telling them it was rather important that they attend.
They had sent a notice almost immediately, notifying him that they would be there. His mother normally lived at the townhome with him, but Jason had seen her current absence as a welcomed respite considering the way his life had recently been derailed.
Jason had no doubt that she was helpful, but suspected her desire to help stemmed mostly from wanting to sit and hold her grandchildren. She had been a good mother to him and his brother, but she was an amazing grandmother, always coming up with outlandish games for his nephew to play, telling him stories and singing countless songs. Songs that after a few words and notes, he found himself humming, recognizing them from childhood.
Dinner would start in less than ten minutes, and he’d been waiting downstairs for Isabel to meet him. He knew his family was already here and had been waiting for him in the dining hall parlor. Earlier today, he’d sent notice to his mother’s favorite dressmaker and requested a gown for Isabel tonight.
Tomorrow she would go shopping for the rest of her necessities, but for tonight he wanted her to look the part. As she descended the stairs, he instantly recognized that she didn’t disappoint. She most assuredly appeared every part the regal princess she was.
Her dark hair had been swept into a delicate chignon, and wisps of curls teased her shoulders and framed her face. The ruby necklace he’d sent upstairs along with her gown winked at him. The gown, a deep and bold crimson, was perfect. The velvet bodice molded to her curves, revealing precisely what he’d suspected about her figure; the dress narrowed at her waist, then flared at her rounded hips. The gown was ornate with flounces and ruffles, as was the fashion, but it did not upstage the woman wearing it.
He held his hand out to her when she reached the bottom of the staircase. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you. You do as well.” Her mossy green eyes seemed to shimmer along with the rubies at her throat.
“Shall we?” he asked, holding his arm out to her.
“Are they here already?”
“They are.” He looped her hand into the crook of his elbow and led her forward. He’d told her some about his family—they’d had to have something fill the hours of their long journey back to London. He’d primarily covered the basics, their names and aspects of their personalities, but he knew that nothing compared to meeting people. And tonight, everyone was in for a surprise.
They stepped into the parlor. “Good evening,” he said.
All eyes turned to face them. His mother’s mouth momentarily dropped, but she quickly recovered and bestowed upon them a genuine smile.
“Good evening, my dear.” His mother came forward and embraced him, then looked expectantly at Isabel. But Jason did not explain Isabel’s presence. Not yet. He wanted everyone at the table, sitting in a civilized fashion, else his mother might whack him with a decorative pillow. Granted, at the dining room table, she had access to sharp objects.
“Let us sit, and then I shall make introductions.” He didn’t wait for a response, but rather pulled Isabel with him into the dining room. The scent of roasted quail and warm bread filled the air. He knew he should have already told his family, his mother in particular. He’d found that sometimes a group setting was the best place to deliver unexpected news.
“Now then,” Jason said once they were seated and had been served their soup. “Isabel, I should like you to meet my family. This is my mother, Genevieve Ellis, the Dowager Viscountess, and my brother, Patrick, and his wife, Suzanne. Everyone, this is Isabel Ellis, Viscountess. My wife.”
Patrick had only then taken a swallow of wine, and he immediately spat it out in surprise. Then he settled into a coughing fit, with his wife striking measured beats against his back.
“Good heavens, Jason, you could have warned us,” his mother said. “Not that we’re disappointed, dear.” She smiled warmly at Isabel. “This introduction is obviously not your doing. Welcome to the family.”
“Thank you,” Isabel said. Then she turned to Jason and frowned. “I cannot believe you hadn’t already told them,” she said through her teeth.
He flashed her a smile. “Surprise,” he whispered, then took a heavy swallow of his wine. It was going to be a long evening.
…
Isabel prayed that somehow she’d disappear into the plush rug beneath her. But she remained firmly in the heavy wooden chair, sitting next to her scoundrel of a husband and across from her shocked mother-in-law. Sweat beaded along her back, and she fought the urge to retreat. She could do this. She might not have ever expected to be welcomed into an aristocratic family, but she’d certainly sat through the instructions on meeting Society at St. Bart’s.
What had Jason been thinking? Surprising not only his family of their marriage, but doing so without telling her first. He was obviously trying to torment her. Well, she might feel out of place, but they certainly didn’t need to know that. She straightened herself, aligning her backbone against the hard back of the chair.
“Jason tells me you recently had a baby. Congratulations,” Isabel said to Suzanne.
“Yes, thank you. She’s such a quiet little thing. Not at all like her brother was when he was born,” Suzanne said. “He did nothing but wail for hours unless I was feeding him.” She smiled warmly.
The room fell again into an awkward silence, and Isabel tried to think of something clever to say. Thankfully the servants came in and served the first course.
“Did you say your name was Isabel Crisp?” Suzanne asked. “Why do I recognize that name? I’ve heard it recently.” Her delicate brow furrowed as she thought. “Darling, do you recall?”
Patrick glanced up from his dinner and eyed his wife. “I don’t believe so.”
Isabel shook her head. “I’m afraid I’m rather new to London, so I doubt that anyone—”
“The lost princess!” Suzanne exclaimed. “Yes, there was a story about you in the Times only yesterday, or perhaps it was the day before.” She waved her hand absently. “You are the lost princess from Saldania, are you not?”
Isabel’s gaze flickered to Jason, and he gave her an almost imperceptible nod. “That is what I have been told. I have no memory of it, though.”
“Fascinating,” Patrick said.
“Indeed,” Isabel agreed.
“It is true, then, that you had no notion of your real identity?” Suzanne asked.
“Yes, quite true,” Isabel said. “I had not even heard of my country.”
“You poor dear,” his mother said. “That must be dreadful to not know who you are.”
“I suppose. I don’t feel much different, to be honest. But I certainly don’t feel like a princess,” Isabel said.
“Jason, you married a princess in secret?” His mother clicked her tongue. “That simply will not do. You cannot hide such a treasure with a crude elopement in Scotland, in one of those dirty blacksmith hovels, no doubt.”
“We were in a hurry,” Jason said.
His mother’s brows rose. “Be that as it may, we must remedy the situation immediately,” she said.
What did that mean? Did his mother expect them to annul their marriage? That wasn’t even necessary, Isabel recognized, considering Jason had yet to consummate their union. She wished she knew more about how Society worked so that she could better read the situation. She hated the notion of beginning a marriage, real or not, with her new mother-in-law disappointed in her.
“You are not suggesting we marry again here in London, Mother?” Jason asked.
“Of course not. We need to host a ball in your honor and announce the nuptials. People will want to celebrate with you, my dear,” his mother said.
“People will want to gawk and gossip,” he countered.
“Of course, that is part of the celebration for some,” she said.
“You don’t need to go to any trouble on my account,” Isabel said. “Jason said something about posting a notice in the papers. Would that not suffice?”
Jason leaned ever so close to her. “A public portrayal of our marriage would certainly be the fastest way to alert people,” he whispered.
The warmth of his breath next to her ear gave her a shiver. She nodded absently. What was it about this man that was so distracting?
She forced her attention away from him and settled on his mother who smiled warmly at her. Isabel supposed she should be grateful that her new family wished to properly welcome her. But all she could think about was the fact that being married to her put Jason in danger. Now that she’d met his family, it made that danger even more real. If something happened to him, these lovely people would have to blame her.
“Then it is settled,” his mother said. “We shall host a ball here and announce your marriage.”
She had no idea how to behave at a ball. She wasn’t even certain she knew what went on at them other than dancing.
She’d certainly had some training that any lady of good breeding would have; she’d learned Latin and philosophy, how to dance, and even how to manage a household, although no one expected anyone to leave St. Bart’s and marry well. She had, though, even if it wasn’t precisely a true marriage in every respect. It seemed that Jason wasn’t too keen on telling anyone the truth, and certainly, if he were going to do so, his family would be his confidants.
He meant to keep the truth a secret. Something settled inside her. As if the mere fact that they shared a common secret bound them together in a partnership. She didn’t have to face this alone. No matter what else came her way, perhaps she finally had someone to go through life with.
“We have much planning to do,” his mother said, coming to her feet. “Come along, ladies, let us get started.”
Suzanne rose and beckoned Isabel forward.
“Go on, you’ll be relatively safe with them,” Jason said with a grin.
Isabel stood and followed her new sister and mother out of the room. She wasn’t too far out of earshot to hear Patrick say loudly, “It’s about bloody time, brother.”
…
After his family left for the evening, Jason went in search of Isabel. He found her in the library.
“Searching for more books on botany, I see. Does your appetite for all things planted know no bounds?” he asked from the doorway.
She gifted him a smile. “One can never read too many books on plant life.”
She was beautiful, and it stole his breath. Would that his circumstances were different, so that he could take her in this very room upon that old leather sofa.
“What?” she asked, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “You are looking at me strangely.”
“Sorry. Merely tired, I suppose.” He leaned against the doorframe.
“You put everyone in an awkward position tonight, surprising them with our marriage,” she said.
“Perhaps,” he said. “I find it often best to beg for forgiveness than seek permission.”
“You do things your own way, on your terms,” she said. “Without much of a care to how anyone will see it.”
“I do. Do you think that foolish?”
She smiled. “Brave, actually. I fear I have never done so before.”
“Not true. You stood on that table in that inn and boldly declared yourself available for marriage.”
Blush stained her cheeks. “That was foolish.”
“Yes, but brave also. You sought a solution to your problem.”
“And in doing so, put you in danger.”
“Not any more danger than I’ve been in before. It comes with my position in the Brotherhood.”
“Yes, your duty.” There was a hint of sadness in her tone.
He almost inquired about it, but thought better of it. “I thought tonight went well.”
“I’m glad. I feel rather out of my element. I feel as if I don’t know how to talk to people. It is as if I learned nothing at St. Bart’s,” she said.
“Nonsense. You were perfectly charming.”
She laughed, but it came out as more of a snort. “See. I’m a disaster. More than likely your mother and Suzanne believe me one as well. They kept asking me questions about food and decorations and people to invite, and I merely sat there staring at them. Perhaps they believe me a simpleton.”
He felt a pull toward her, but kept himself firmly against the doorframe. He would not risk being too close to her. Sitting next to her at dinner had been tempting enough. “Isabel, no one thinks that.”
“You could tell everyone that, then I wouldn’t have to speak.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “How did I ever think I could be a governess? Jason, I don’t know how to be in this world.”
The tears glistening in her eyes beckoned to him, but he locked his frame against the doorjamb. He could not console her. That would require him to be close, to touch her, and he feared once he started, he’d never be able to stop.
“I don’t particularly belong in this world, either,” he told her. It was an honesty so raw that he wanted to go on, tell her the rest, why he didn’t belong. “The truth is that most people will see what they want, believe what they want, no matter if you tell them differently. All will be well, you’ll see.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Fair enough. Well, I’ll tell you what, if the ball is a disaster and you make a wreck of everything, you have my permission to select any book off these shelves and whack me in the head with it.”
“Truly?” she asked. Then a giggle bubbled over.
He placed his hand over his heart. “It is on my oath.”
“I shall hold you to that,” she said.
“Try to get some sleep, Isabel.” Then, against the desires of his own body, he turned away from her.
Jason had arisen early the following day and gone to see his mother at his brother’s townhome. Contrary to most women in London, she’d always been an early riser. It was the perfect time for them to have a private conversation. Jason knew he’d have questions to answer, especially if he was to expect her to help Isabel settle into life in Society.
She was already seated in the front parlor working on some embroidery when he arrived. She immediately set it aside when he entered the room.
“What a nice surprise,” she said.
“I didn’t think I had much time to get here before you paid a call upon me,” he said.
She smiled. “I am pleased we are seeing things the same. You knew I would have questions.”
“Of course. And,” he paused, searching for the right words, “I have a favor to ask.”
Her brows rose. “You surprise me with a marriage and now you want a favor? If you were a loving son, you’d have more mercy on my health.” She feigned a weak heart by patting herself on the chest.
“Mother, you and I both know you are the very picture of health.”
She waved her hand and rolled her eyes heavenward. “Who is this girl? Aside from the fabled princess of Saldania?”
Jason lowered himself into a chair adjacent to his mother’s settee. He poured himself a cup of tea and idly stirred sugar into it, perhaps just so that he had something to do with his hands. He never had been very accomplished at these sorts of conversations. He was far more comfortable in the thick of the action.
“She is the princess,” he said. “She was raised predominantly here, in London, or the outer reaches of London, rather, at a school called St. Bartholomew’s.”
“That school has a bit of a reputation, although not as bad as the one adjacent to it for boys,” his mother said.
“Yes, I have gathered. In any case, we believe she was hidden there, whether to protect her or for other, nefarious, reasons, we are not certain,” he said.
“And you married her, why?”
“I thought you would be pleased,” he said.
“Jason, I have wanted nothing more than for you to marry and start your own family, you know that. Of course I am pleased. She seems like a lovely girl. But it is obvious you did not marry her for love.”
“Very few people are afforded that.”
She inclined her head. “True. Still, it is something you wish for your children.”
“One out of two isn’t bad odds, Mother.”
“You have not answered my question.”
“I married her, that is the important part,” he said.
“This has something to do with the Brotherhood?”
He shushed her. “You are not even supposed to know about that. And for good reason.”
“I can keep a secret, which I assured you when I discovered your association with the Brotherhood. It is dangerous work, my love, and I worry.”
He reached forward and patted her hands. “I need for you to assist Isabel in becoming more a part of Society. I think she likely has the necessary skills, but is unsure of herself.”
“You know I will do what I can to help her. She is my daughter now.” She squeezed his hand. “Precisely the reason why I’ve decided to return to your townhome. Your brother is going back to the country for the remainder of the Season, and they no longer need my assistance.”
His initial reaction was to tell her she should go to Dorset with Patrick, but upon reflection, he recognized that having his mother on hand would be quite beneficial. For more than one reason. She could assist Isabel while also providing companionship, allowing him to stay farther away from his ever-tempting bride.
“Splendid. You know, more than anyone, how cruel Society can be. With your expert guidance, I know that Isabel shall make the transition smoothly,” he said.
“I see beyond that flattery, my son.” She smiled. “But that does not mean that your words do not work. I shall help your wife.”
“Starting with a shopping trip later today. She needs everything.”