Three Weeks with a Princess by Vanessa Kelly (21)

“Miss Kincaid, are you well?” Anne said, peering at Lia with concern.

“Please call me Lia.” It was a silly answer, but all the sense had been knocked out of Lia’s head.

“Yes, of course.” Jack’s sister snatched up a glass of lemonade on the small table and pressed it into Lia’s hands. “You suddenly look quite done in, which is hardly odd after the unfortunate revelation I sprang on you. I’m sorry for that.”

Lia took the glass in her slightly trembling hand and brought it to her lips. The drink was tepid, but the tartness of the lemons helped to revive her. “There’s no need to apologize. As you pointed out, our parents have poorly served us. But this . . .” She shook her head with disgust. “I cannot believe my mother acted with such wanton disregard for the feelings of your family.”

Even though it had happened years ago and many sins could be forgiven, Mama could hardly have made a more ignoble and unwise choice of lovers than Lord John Easton.

“No wonder your mother hates us,” Lia went on. “First your uncle installs my grandmother as his mistress on the family estate and then my mother embarks on a scandalous affair with yet another Easton man. We truly must seem like a plague.”

Anne nodded. “That’s a very apt description from my mother’s point of view, especially now that Jack seems . . .”

“Involved with me,” Lia finished. Lady John’s disastrous conduct at the ball now made complete sense. “Does Jack know about the affair?”

“No. Apparently, it was hushed up almost immediately. My mother discovered the affair and demanded that my father put an end to it. Uncle Arthur supported her.” Anne grimaced. “Could you imagine the scandal if they’d been discovered? The Easton men and the Kincaid women—the satirists and the gossips would have had a field day. As morally lax as he was, even my uncle wouldn’t tolerate that sort of ugliness.”

“I’m sure my grandmother wouldn’t have been pleased either. She wanted to escape the scandal of her former life—for my sake, as well as hers. That’s why she was so eager to retire to Stonefell and fade into obscurity.”

Lia wasn’t surprised Granny had never mentioned this nasty little chapter in the family’s history. It would have been ugly and embarrassing for both the Eastons and the Kincaids.

“My uncle insisted the affair never be mentioned by any of the parties involved,” Anne said. “Uncle Arthur even threatened to cut off my father’s income if he so much as breathed a word, much less ever took up with your mother again.”

“If no one was ever to speak of it, how did you find out?” Lia asked, putting her glass down on the table.

“A few years after it occurred, I overheard my parents fighting over the fact that Uncle Arthur wanted Jack to spend his school holidays with him at Stonefell. My mother wanted Jack at home with her. She feared exposure to your grandmother would be morally harmful, given . . .” Anne hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “The past history with the Kincaids. My father told her that her reaction was overwrought, and that he had no intention of giving in to her ridiculous fears.”

Lia felt sick to her stomach. “How awful for her.”

“Afterward, I heard her weeping in her room. When I went to console her, she made me swear on the family Bible that I would never breathe a word about the affair to Jack.” She shook her head. “Believe me, I have often regretted making that vow.”

“But telling Jack would have engaged his sympathy, would it not? He’s very close to her.”

“You must understand that my mother’s dignity had been stripped away over the years and she couldn’t abide the notion that Jack might pity her. Or that he would know the full extent of her humiliation at our father’s hands.” Anne gave Lia a sad smile. “And Mother didn’t want Jack to have to choose between his parents. I think she feared he would choose Papa over her, which would have been devastating.”

“Jack is nothing like his father,” Lia said quietly. “Surely Lady John realizes that.”

“Rationally, she does. But her heart is still afraid—even more so now.”

“Because of me.” It was hard for Lia to speak calmly, given the horrible, heavy lump in the center of her chest.

When Anne nodded, Lia sighed. “What is it you wish me to do, my lady? Should I tell Jack about this, or simply make it clear that I can have no relationship with him beyond casual friendship?”

Surprisingly, Anne shook her head. “My dear, that is not for me to decide. As I told Jack, your lives are your own to do with as you wish. I know how important you are to him and I have no desire to stand in the way of his happiness—if, in fact, being with you would make him happy. But I thought you should know the full extent of the challenges facing you, including the social and financial consequences.” Her brows arched in a knowing look. “And aside from whatever form of relationship that might be between you.”

Lia mentally winced. It would appear Jack had not expressly told his sister that he’d made her an offer of marriage, which suggested a degree of hesitancy on his part. She didn’t blame him. He’d have to be a complete dolt to think he could marry her without significant repercussions.

“I understand,” she said, “and I thank you for being so frank with me. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you.”

Anne gave her a wry smile, once again displaying the easy charm she shared with her brother. Lia’s heart was full of regret at the lost opportunity of friendship as the girls they’d been or the women they’d become.

“No, it wasn’t,” said Anne. “But I thought you deserved to know the truth, as sorry as I was to have to tell you.”

“It’s a shock, I admit. But no blame could possibly attach to you or to your mother.”

Anne fleetingly reached out a hand, then pulled it back to her lap. “You’re very generous, Lia. I wish—” She broke off and shook her head.

“You’re not to worry,” Lia said. “I know exactly what to do.”

A bleak certainty had settled over her. Someone had to atone for all the damage to the Easton family, especially to the women. And that someone was going to be Lia.

* * *

After unceremoniously dumping Gillian on her husband, Jack stalked toward the river, where his sister and Lia sat near a pair of large oaks. A stranger would find it a charming scene—two pretty young ladies dressed in pastel summer gowns and frilly, stylish hats, drinking lemonade and chatting in the dappled sunlight. It couldn’t possibly be more genteel.

And yet Jack knew better. The carefully blank look on Lia’s face signaled distress. Even though Anne had said she’d support whatever decision he made about Lia, she’d told him in no uncertain terms that he’d be a lunatic to throw away his life by marrying her. At that point, he’d bluntly told Anne to mind her own business or risk facing his wrath. That threat had worked as well as one could expect—which was to say not at all. His sister was just as stubborn as he was, a trait inherited from their mother.

Because he wouldn’t have put it past Anne to call on Lia directly under the guise of making an apology, he’d finally agreed to allow her to come with him today. By being close by, he could ameliorate whatever damage resulted from the confrontation as best he could.

His sister was a kind and tolerant woman, but she was also fiercely loyal to their mother and understood better than anyone how fraught all their lives would become if Jack took Lia as his bride. Unfortunately, he hadn’t yet come up with any good way to placate his mother. Strictly speaking, there were no benefits to marrying Lia—at least of a material or social nature.

No, the benefits were more ephemeral but even more valuable. Lia’s calm, clear-eyed understanding and her cheerful support for the challenges that faced him were blessings probably only he could see.

As for telling his mother that he desired Lia with a passion that now kept him awake at night . . . well, the old girl would be more inclined to take down a set of hunting pistols from the wall and shoot him if he dared make that argument.

When he reached them, the ladies glanced up, surprised. They’d been so engrossed that they’d failed to note his approach.

He directed a brief scowl at his sister, then sat in the empty chair beside Lia and took her hand. “I hope my annoying little sister hasn’t been too much of a bother, sweetheart.”

Lia’s eyes went wide. He’d clearly startled her, but he didn’t see the point in pretending there was nothing between them.

“Um, no,” she said, “everything’s fine.” When she tugged her hand, Jack reluctantly let go.

Anne gave him a reassuring smile. “We’ve just been chatting, that’s all.”

“About the weather? Or Lady Peckworth’s decorating skills?” he asked sarcastically.

His sister had the grace to blush. “All right, we’ve been talking about the family, but I swear I haven’t said anything to scare her off.”

“I should hope not or you’ll have to answer to me,” Jack said.

“How utterly terrifying,” Anne said with a cheeky little grin. “I’m shaking in my boots, I am.”

“You are an unrepentant brat. Now, would you please go away so I can talk to Lia? Besides, Lady Peckworth wants to see you—she’s practically quivering with anticipation at the thought of taking you through the house.”

“Ah, very well.” Anne stood and brushed a few stray leaves from the skirts of her gown. She smiled at Lia. “Thank you for speaking with me. I hope we have a chance to talk again soon.”

Lia came to her feet as well. “Thank you, my lady. Again, I appreciate your honesty.”

Alarm bells started clanging in his head.

When Anne gave Lia a quick hug, it surprised the hell out of Jack—and, from her expression, Lia, too. His sister briefly pressed his arm and then headed across the lawn to meet Lady Peckworth.

“Don’t forget to ask her ladyship to show you the kitchens,” Lia called after her. “Especially the new range.”

Anne waved a hand and was soon out of earshot.

“She upset you, didn’t she?” Jack said. After her illness, Lia had yet to recover her healthy country glow, and today she was looking even paler than usual. “I swear I’ll throw her into the Thames myself, even if she is my only sibling.”

A gleam of humor sparked in her eyes. “Your sister is a very nice woman. In fact, she told me she regretted we were never able to be friends. She also said she’d been jealous of me, if you can believe it.”

“Actually, I can. Our mother relied on Anne for support from an early age, and it placed too great a burden on her.”

“So she said. I’m so sorry, Jack.” She grimaced. “I’m sorry for everything.”

He wrapped his hand around her much smaller one. Still, there was strength and sturdiness in her grip, the sign of a girl not afraid to work. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, love. You’ve never hurt anyone in your life.”

“Yes, but my family hurt your family very much. I feel awful about that.”

“Most of the blame rests with the men in my family, not the women in yours,” he said dryly. “Given the workings of the world, your mother and grandmother had far fewer choices in life. They did what they had to do to survive and protect their children.”

When Lia withdrew her hand and took a step back, it felt as if she’d put a hundred yards between them.

“There were some choices they could have chosen not to make,” she said in a voice that held a low vibration of sorrow.

“Why don’t we sit down and you can tell me all about it,” he said gently.

She looked around, almost as if seeing her surroundings for the first time. “I think I’d rather walk. Do you mind? The gardens are quite extensive, and I’ve hardly seen any of them.”

Even better. Jack had already discovered a few very private spots, and if conclusions were drawn about their absence, that would fit nicely into his plans.

“I’m already familiar with Lord Peckworth’s gardens,” he said. “I can show you the finest spots. Let’s start with a stroll along the river.”

He offered an arm and she took it without hesitation, tucking herself neatly against his side. They set off along a graveled path, Lia easily matching his pace. The fact that she never dawdled was just another thing he loved about her.

Once they were out of sight, she untied the ribbons of her bonnet and pulled it from her head. A few pins came loose and glossy streamers of hair fluttered around her neck and shoulders. She briefly raised her face to the sun and let out a sigh. As attuned as Jack was to her, he knew it was not one of contentment or relief. While her profile presented an enchanting picture, the set of her mouth was tight and unhappy.

“I’m glad we’re friends again,” he said, testing the waters.

She flashed him a quick, quizzical smile. “Of course we’re friends. We’ll always be friends. At least I hope so,” she added.

“I hope for rather more than that, Lia,” he said.

She threw him a veiled, even wary look. “Really? Have you decided to become my protector, after all?”

He brought her to a halt. “We’ve already discussed this. I am not turning you into a whore.” He deliberately used the ugly term, hoping to shock her into awareness.

“No? Are you a magician? Can you turn me into something more to your own liking?” She snapped her fingers. “Perhaps a fairy-tale princess? That would be nice, and very apt.”

“Very funny,” he said. “What I would like to turn you in to, as you should know with thundering clarity, is a wife. My wife, to be precise.”

She started walking at a fast enough clip that it took a few strides to catch up to her.

“Jack, you know that’s not possible and it’s time you accepted that,” she said.

He steered her in the direction of a beech tree bordering the riverbank. A lovely wrought-iron bench in the shade of the leafy, overhanging limbs offered a sheltered spot far enough away from the house and the main gardens that they should be undisturbed.

“I don’t accept anything of the sort.” He gave her shoulder a little push and she plunked down on the seat with what he could only describe as an adorable scowl.

Her glare was sharp enough to slice him into slivers, and yet all he could think about was how enchanting she looked even when she was mad at him. He wanted nothing more than to take her down into the soft grass, slowly divest her of her clothing, and devour her gorgeous, naked body from tip to toe. He burned with the need to be inside her, plunging deep, feeling her clench around him until he found his blessed release.

She was truly going to send him straight to the madhouse—or cripple him with thwarted lust.

He propped one booted foot up on the bench and rested an arm on his thigh. “What did my sister tell you that put you off marrying me?”

“You are an utter booby,” she said with exasperation. “It seems to have slipped your mind that I have not, in fact, agreed to marry you. Quite the opposite.”

“After the events at the Cyprians’ ball, I would beg to differ.”

“If you mention that blasted ball one more time, I’m going to have to do something desperate.”

“Which would be?”

She eyed him with disfavor. “I’m thinking I might shoot you. At least then you’ll stop nagging me.”

When he laughed, her mouth curled up into a reluctant grin. She settled her bonnet on her lap and let her gaze drift to the river.

Jack was content to hold his fire and allow the scene to work its quiet magic. A gentle breeze set the tall reeds to rustling and dragonflies darted in erratic zigzags across the surface of the water. With only a few smaller boats sailing by, it was the kind of peaceful, bucolic setting that usually bored him. But this time it made him think of Stonefell and wonder how life there was proceeding in his absence. He almost missed it, which was a new sensation. The old estate had always been more of a burden than anything else. Sometimes, it had felt like a millstone around his neck, strangling him.

But now, another feeling was slowly supplanting his resentment, slipping inside so quietly he’d almost missed its arrival. It was a sense of pride in Stonefell, and recognition that it was a beautiful and noble old place very much worth saving. He couldn’t help but think that its rescue would be more honor than burden.

Lia’s features had now settled into lines of lovely serenity. The country was where she belonged, and when he thought about taking her home to Stonefell as his bride, eagerness surged within him, along with an optimism he hadn’t felt in a long time. With her by his side, to help him and to love him, what had previously felt like a burden seemed no sacrifice at all.

“I’m looking forward to going back,” he said. “To Stonefell.”

It took her a moment to catch up. When she did, her gaze narrowed. “Have you been drinking?”

“Of course not. I’m simply telling you that I’ll be happy to return home, especially with you. As my bride,” he added with pointed emphasis.

“If you take me back to Stonefell as your bride, it will be more along the order of a forced retreat because we’ll be fleeing your mother.”

“She’ll come around.”

“I doubt it.”

“Lia—” he began impatiently.

“Very well,” she said, cutting him off. “Does this mean you’ve decided to accept Dominic and Leverton as investors in the mining scheme?”

“Who told you about that?”

“Gillian. She said they’re quite keen on it but that you’re dragging your heels.”

He cursed under his breath, wanting to throttle Gillian, along with his sister and mother for good measure. They were all making what should be a simple situation needlessly difficult.

“While I’m grateful for their support,” he said, “it’s not yet clear that the mine will yield enough profit to justify their investments. As you can imagine, I do not wish to find myself deeper in debt if it does not.”

“Gillian seems to think the mining venture is viable.”

“She doesn’t know everything,” he said.

“I thought she was being too optimistic,” she said with grim satisfaction.

Confound it. He’d backed right into that one. “It will likely be very profitable at some point, but these things take time. That’s all I’m saying.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Time Stonefell does not have, as we both know. You can’t possibly afford to marry me, Jack, and what you said just proves it. You need a rich wife and you need one soon.”

The determination in her voice raised the hairs on the back of his neck. “It’s truly not that bad,” he said firmly.

“It is that bad and you know it. We all know it. Marrying me will simply make the situation worse. And I refuse to be the cause of Stonefell’s ruin.”

He plunked his foot to the ground. Looming over her, he mustered up his most forbidding scowl. “Because you are no longer on the stage, I would remind you that such dramatic utterances are no longer necessary.”

She snorted. “I’ll determine what’s necessary when it comes to my life, Jack. You cannot force me to marry you. And I feel quite confident that your mother and your sister will support me in my decision.”

“Lia—”

“There are only two options here. You either take me as your mistress or you agree to help me find a protector. If you fail to choose either, I will simply proceed as planned and find my own protector.”

She’d very ably cornered him again. Lia had always wanted the best for him, and if that meant sacrificing her own happiness, she would do it. She loved him and she also loved Stonefell, possibly more than she loved him. It was a thought he chose not to dwell on at the moment.

In her mind, she’d made the entirely rational decision that marriage wouldn’t solve any of his problems. But when it came to Lia, Jack felt anything but rational. She was his. She’d always been his, he realized, as he’d always been hers. The notion of not having her in his life was simply unthinkable.

As for taking her as his mistress, that was no option at all. He wasn’t his father or his uncle. To take her in that way would dishonor and eventually destroy them both.

“Very well,” he said. “Let’s say I agree to your mad scheme. What would that entail exactly?”

Her mouth sagged slightly open. “Uh, are you saying you might actually take me as your mistress?”

“We’ll see.” He could draw a hard line, too. “I need to know your terms first. And I need time to make a decision. This isn’t something a man should rush in to blindly.”

“Perhaps, but don’t think I’ll let you drag this out forever, Jack Easton,” she said suspiciously. “I won’t let you manage me.”

“I wouldn’t even try. Now, your terms?”

She eyed him warily before holding up three fingers. “You have three weeks. If you have not made a decision in that time, I will proceed on my own.”

It was more than enough time for him, but it was an odd qualification. “What’s so special about three weeks?”

She blushed, shifting on her seat. “It’s just a nice, round number, that’s all,” she said.

He decided to let it pass for now. “Very well, I accept that condition. What else?”

“If you decide not to become my protector, I want you to help me devise some tests.”

His mind went blank. “Tests.”

“Yes, tests,” she said defiantly. “For potential protectors.”

“What sort of tests?”

She waved a vague hand. “You know.”

“I bloody well do not know. Perhaps you could try being more precise.”

The gentle blush of a few moments before had now deepened to a blazing rose. “Um, well, a kissing test, for one.”

He stared at her, his brain finding it hard to function. “What would be the purpose of such a test?”

“I’m going to have to kiss my protector, obviously, so I want to make sure I’m doing it right. That and other things,” she added.

He couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Sweetheart, you had no trouble with kissing the other night, I assure you.”

“That was different.”

“Why?” He was almost beginning to enjoy himself. Almost.

“Because it was you,” she snapped.

“I see.” He stroked his chin, as if deep in thought. “And did you enjoy kissing me?”

She regarded him with an expression of acute dislike. “You know, I think you’re simply too annoying to be my protector. Are you going to help me or aren’t you?”

He had to swallow his smile. “Perhaps I’m not clear on the purpose of the kissing test.”

“I would assume that one could determine quite a bit from the way a gentleman kisses a woman, correct? Such as whether he’s someone who would treat his mistress with consideration and respect.” She twirled a hand. “So . . . what sort of kissing behavior should I be alerted to? What would suggest that a man might not be a good candidate for the role of protector?”

“If he tries to force himself on you, as Sir Nathan did, I’d say that might be a fairly good indication,” Jack said sarcastically.

She bolted to her feet. “If you’re not going to take this seriously—”

“Forgive me, pet,” he said, mustering a soothing tone as he gently pressed her back down. “I take this very seriously indeed.”

There was no way on God’s earth he would ever let another man kiss her, unless it was a friendly peck on the cheek from a relative or friend.

She subsided with a grumble. “Then please get on with it, Jack. My backside is beginning to feel numb from sitting on all these iron seats.”

He had to wrestle his mind off the image of her naked backside, preferably underneath his naked front side. “Very well. Number one—if a man tries to take liberties with you, you must put a stop to it immediately.”

Lia frowned. “But he’s already taking liberties, because I’m allowing him to kiss me.”

“I mean further liberties, of course. Such as if he attempts to insert his tongue into your mouth.”

She winced. “Right. But eventually he’ll wish to do that, will he not?”

Jack gave her a gentle smile. “He’ll insist on it. I know I would.”

She fidgeted with the satin ribbons of her bonnet. “I suppose I’ll just have to get used to it, then. Although perhaps I could institute a rule that he can only use his tongue when I give him permission.”

“That’s ridiculous. No man in his right mind would agree to a rule like that from his mistress.”

“Oh blast,” she muttered. “I’m sure you’re right.”

“He’ll want to do lots of other things, too,” he said.

She began to look slightly alarmed. “What sort of things?”

“Like the sort of things we did the other night.”

“Hmm. If I’m being honest, I must say I enjoyed that interlude quite a lot. So, that’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

“Will you enjoy doing it with men who are virtually strangers?”

Her barely suppressed grimace suggested not. “I’ll just have to get used to it, won’t I?”

“If you don’t, you might have trouble with the other physical requirements, too. And some men have very particular tastes. Peculiar might be a better term.” Yes, he was laying it on rather thick, but it was the truth. “Ask your mother if you’d like a more detailed explanation.”

She’d been leaning against the back of the bench, absently chewing a fingernail, but that comment brought her upright in a flash. “My mother is the last person I’d ask,” she said sharply. “So don’t suggest it again.”

Something was clearly wrong—well, even more wrong than their demented conversation had been up to this point.

“As you wish.” He found it interesting—and disturbing—that she was so rattled. Obviously, it had something to do with her mother. But he knew Lia well, and the subject was closed, at least for now.

She came to her feet and slapped the bonnet on her head, tying the bow with brisk efficiency.

“I take it our discussion has concluded,” he said.

“Indeed.” She gave him a look more suited to a governess or disapproving spinster than a budding courtesan. “I’m sure I’ll have more questions in the future. For now, though, please be clear on the basics. You have three weeks to decide whether to accept me as your mistress or help me find a suitable candidate who will. Are we clear?”

“As clear as crystal,” he said with a gentle smile.

“Good. Then I suggest we return to the house. The others will be wondering where we are.”

He snagged her by the arm. “In a moment. I have a condition, too.”

Although she was several inches shorter, Lia still managed to convey the impression that she was glaring down her nose at him. She looked very much like the princess she should have been.

“Which is?” she asked.

“I insist on having veto power.”

“Veto power over what exactly?”

“Over your potential protectors, of course. If they don’t pass muster with me, you have to reject them.”

She looked momentarily flummoxed, but then her gaze narrowed and her brows leveled into an irritated line. “That’s ridiculous. Knowing you, you’ll never approve of any man.”

“That’s my only condition. If you want my help, I suggest you accept it. If not, you’re on your own. And we both know how well you’ve done so far.”

She glared at him for several long seconds. “You can go straight to perdition, Jack Easton,” she finally said. Then she pulled out of his grip and stalked off.