The Gypsy Legacy: Marquis Page 12

  As they caught up on each other’s activities and families, Jay was reminded that Gerald had two sisters. Raising Felicia’s interest in a young ladies’ academy garnered an offer of help.

  “Geri and both of my sisters went to young ladies’ academies—I’ll ask her—and Mama—for recommendations for your sister. As for Milton—I still know a few of the crowd he and Aaron were part of. I’ll make some inquiries. Perhaps another avenue to explore might be your stepmother’s background. Maybe there’s a connection there.”

  Jay smiled wryly. “Now, why didn’t I think of that? I just assumed he was a friend of Aaron’s who used the excuse of hating gypsies to cover his activities. Felicia told me she’d overheard my father telling Milton he knew he was embezzling funds from the estate and he was to leave, but my father died soon after and no one knew Milton had been dismissed.”

  They sat in comfortable silence for a while, each applying himself to the excellent fare before them. The innkeeper cleared the dishes, then left them to continue their conversation.

  “There was a rumor Aaron was engaged or betrothed, but no one was able to confirm it,” Gerald mused.

  Jay looked up from his contemplation of the ruby liquid in his wine glass. “Any idea how it started?”

  “According to one of my sisters, Aaron started it—or at least a comment he made was the genesis of it.”

  “How?”

  “It seems that, after being singled out for pointed attention at a soiree of some sort, Aaron apparently informed the hostess her efforts were wasted on him since he was already betrothed. One of my sisters overheard the comment, but heard no more.”

  “How long ago was this?”

  “Hmmm. At least seven or eight years ago. Although, I could be mistaken in the time period since I don’t even remember which of my sisters overheard the remark.”

  Jay warred with himself over whether to confide in Gerald. They had once been fairly close, although Gerald was a year older. He’d even spent a holiday with Gerald’s family during his teen years. Out of his parents’ and brother’s orbits, he’d enjoyed himself immensely.

  There was still the question of the validity of the contract. He and the solicitor had gone over and over the possibilities and ramifications until he had finally given up and shoved it to the back of his mind. He knew he had to address it eventually. There were only about three weeks left. Of course, Mr. Strate had informed him the will only required he honor the terms of the contract—which, for him, meant he indicate his intention to marry Tina. It did not require—although he was sure it was what his father intended—he actually marry her by a specific date. Nevertheless, it was the reason he was in Exeter—to inquire about a special license from the Bishop just in case.

  Belatedly, he wondered if the act of procuring the special license alone would serve as indication of his intent. He would write to Mr. Strate and ask him. In the meantime, he looked across at Gerald and made up his mind.

  “The rumor was true,” he told him. “The Earl of Wynton has a younger sister, Lady Christina. Aaron was betrothed to her. However nothing came of it since she was only sixteen when he died.”

  Gerald was intrigued. “So what happened to her?”

  “Nothing. She is still at Thane Park taking care of my sister. We actually have quite a tangle on our hands but as far as I can tell she is unaware of her part in it.” Jay went on to tell Gerald of the substitution of his name on the contract and the provisions of the will. When he was done, Gerald looked at him in amazement.

  “And you say she knows nothing of the will?”

  “Not as far as I can tell.”

  “So, are you planning to marry her?”

  “I haven’t decided yet. Certainly, it would be no hardship. She is beautiful, intelligent, accomplished. What more could one look for in a wife?”

  Gerald chuckled as he raised his glass. “You, my friend, have never been in love.”

  Jay grimaced, but did not respond. It was true he’d never been in love and, if he had any control over it, he never would.

  *

  Tina sat in one of the rose-covered arbors in the garden feeling decidedly decadent. She hadn’t had this kind of time on her hands in so long she knew she should feel guilty for sitting outside just doing nothing. Yet, the idleness felt good. Since the marquis hadn’t returned the night before, she had little to do concerning the estate because there were still decisions for him to make. As for the house, there were no large-scale projects needing attention at the moment and the smaller tasks could wait another day. So, she found herself outside in the garden, a book lying unopened in her lap, the kitchen tabby purring loudly beside her, enjoying the warm, rose-scented late-afternoon breeze.

  Felicia found her a short time later. “It’s nearly time for tea,” she announced, “but it’s so nice out here it seems a shame to go back inside.”

  “We can always have it on the terrace. Remember? It was one of Mama’s favorite places during the summer for tea.”

  “Of course! I should have thought of it. Shall I go order it and meet you there?”

  “If you wish,” Tina replied, smiling as Felicia dashed off.

  Her enthusiasm was infectious and Tina rose to follow at a more sedate pace. She reached the terrace just as two footmen were setting up the table and chairs under Felicia’s direction.

  The terrace ran the full length of the lower floor of the house, the low wall intermittently broken by stairs leading down into the garden. Doors leading to the music room and large salon on the north side and the ballroom and two smaller, private parlors on the south side could be opened to allow guests to move freely from one wing to the other. It was a nice arrangement that allowed for the use of the garden during summer parties.

  Tina joined Felicia at the table and Keyes arrived with the tea service. Instructing him to place the pot before Felicia, Tina thanked him as Felicia asked, “Shall I pour now?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Felicia was obviously delighted to be allowed to perform such a grown-up function and Tina was reminded how often her mother had indulged her when she was the same age. It was saddening to realize all Felicia had missed out on when their mother died.

  Felicia talked over tea about the families she had visited recently.

  “The Burroughs won’t ask for help, but they could use some. On the other hand, the Milfords are doing well, even little Timmy. The Vicar is doing poorly—I think it’s time he retired. Maybe we should speak to Jay about it?”

  “Speak to me about what?”

  Tina turned at the sound of the deep voice to find Jay standing in the open door. How long had he been standing there? So intent on their conversation were they, neither had heard him approach, and, facing the garden as they were, they had not seen him either.

  “Jay! Did you just return?” Felicia exclaimed. “Come join us.”

  Another chair was brought, another pot of tea sent for, and Jay joined them at the table. For the moment, Tina could not keep her eyes off of him. Felicia asked him a question about his trip and Tina heard his answer without listening. His voice washed over her, soothing nerves she hadn’t even realized were on edge. The sun suddenly seemed brighter, the sky bluer. And all was right in the world—at least this particular corner of it.

  “A duchess? Really?” Felicia’s squeal of delight startled her out of her reverie. “Tina, did you hear that?”

  “I’m afraid not,” she answered with a smile. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about something else.”

  “What?” Felicia asked.

  “Oh, nothing really. Just…just about the Burroughs,” she fibbed.

  Jay seemed to study her closely and she dropped her gaze to avoid meeting his.

  “Oh,” Felicia said. “Well, Jay said the duchess would recommend an academy.”

  “Duchess? What duchess?”

  “The Duchess of Westover,” he answered. “As it happens, I went to school with the Earl of Weston. I ran into Gerald in
Exeter and while we caught up on each other’s news, he offered his help with selecting a young ladies’ academy for Felicia. Or, at least, he offered the help of his wife and mother. We will probably hear from them soon.”

  “Oh, how wonderful for you, Felicia!” she echoed Felicia’s enthusiasm. “Any academy we write to will certainly look favorably upon you if they know the duchess recommended them to you.”

  Jay laughed at the comment and both women turned to look at him quizzically. “What’s so funny?” Felicia demanded.

  Jay bestowed a benign smile on both of them before answering. “While I won’t underestimate the consequence of a duchess in the mix, I don’t think any young ladies’ academy worth their salt would dare consider Felicia unfavorably.”

  “Why not?” Felicia asked, her mood changing suddenly. “They might not want some nobody with gypsy blood in their fancy school,” she commented sourly.

  Tina looked at her in dismay. “Felicia, that’s not true. You are the daughter of a marquis. The school won’t know about the other.”

  Jay watched Tina as she calmed her sister down. Dressed in a light blue and white striped muslin day dress, she looked cool and comfortable. Watching her, however, he was anything but. The day was quite warm and her closeness made him warmer still. He’d hurried home, pushing his team more than was needed, to see her again. He told himself it was because he didn’t have much time to decide what to do about the contract, but an inner voice mocked him, reminding him he had thought of Tina almost constantly since the afternoon before he left.

  That kiss had rocked him. It had taken what he thought was a well-ordered existence and turned it upside-down.

  Jay considered himself a normal red-blooded male. He valued and admired the female of the species for their many pleasing attributes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d paid for a female’s company. He enjoyed what they offered and went on his merry way and had yet to find one capable of touching him in a meaningful fashion. Previous liaisons had been mutually satisfying, but quickly forgotten when he moved on. In all his travels, he hadn’t found a woman he could have considered marrying. Until now.

  Blue-green eyes turned toward him, but Felicia’s comment made him think. Glancing from Felicia to Tina he wondered if it was truly possible they did not completely understand their status in the world. Having never been to London, it was conceivable their view of the world had been colored by the prejudices they had encountered here in Devon. The servants in the house were devoted to them, but from the people living beyond the borders of the Park they had been alienated.

  What had Jon told him? They had been effectively isolated by the deaths of their parents. While Jay had no doubt Tina had been schooled by her mother in manners, deportment, courtesy, and other social requirements, she had had very little practice in a social setting. Tina had passed much of her learning on to Felicia.

  “You do know,” he interrupted, sensing Tina’s expectation of support, “that you are amazingly unique.”

  “Being different is not always good,” Felicia shot back.

  “True, but you are unique in a good way. Even without the Duchess of Westover to recommend you, Jon and I together can wield a considerable amount of influence. The likelihood of any establishment aware of your connections refusing you is about as remote as you teaching Midnight to fly.”

  For a moment, Felicia and Tina stared at him, speechless with shock. Then a smile blossomed across Felicia’s face and her sister and brother watched the knowledge dawn in her eyes as laughter bubbled up out of her, flowing over them until they both began to smile.

  “Oh, Tina,” she gasped in the middle of a breath, dabbing at her eyes with her napkin, “I never thought of it quite like that before.”

  Impulsively, she reached over and gave Jay a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she wheezed. Then she was up and out of her chair, heading into the house. “I can’t wait to tell Cook how important I am,” she threw over her shoulder as she skipped away.

  Tina watched her retreating figure, then turned back to face him.

  He was frozen in time. He didn’t know why, but Felicia’s hug had opened the door on his childhood a little wider. Her actions brought to mind happier days spent with his grandmother in the dower house. Those memories had been locked away for so long he had nearly convinced himself they had been the product of wistfulness.

  His parents had shown little affection. Touching had been strictly forbidden. His father hadn’t wanted to make his sons soft and his mother had been afraid they would muss her hair or dirty her gown. The only person who had given affection freely, unconditionally, had been his grandmother.

  “I think Cook probably already knows,” Tina commented, startling him from his thoughts.

  “I would hope so,” he replied automatically, still marveling at the warmth Felicia’s hug had wrought.

  Chapter Eight

  Silence fell. Birds chirped, the water gurgled and splashed in the fountain, flies and bees buzzed. In the distance a dog barked.

  Tina wanted to ask him about his trip to Exeter. What errands had been so important he had gone off after only one full day in residence? And, had he accomplished them?

  She wondered if it had anything to do with finding Roderick Milton. Jon had written to her and Felicia, informing them he was leaving London to inspect his holdings. It sounded like a grand adventure and she wished she could go with him.

  “I don’t think Felicia and I have ever considered Jon, and now you, as more than brothers. I think we both tend to forget that in the wider world an earl and a marquis might have some influence.”

  He seemed distracted, but her comment caused him to turn sharply toward her.

  “I hope you do not consider me your brother,” he said bluntly, “because I definitely do not consider you my sister. In fact, in light of the events of two afternoons ago, I would say the likelihood you and I should consider each other in that vein is truly far-fetched.”

  Tina felt the blood rising in her cheeks at his reference to the kiss.

  “I was speaking of brothers in general,” she said more tartly than she intended.

  Jay’s eyebrows rose at her tone. “I see.”

  “I was just thinking of Felicia.”

  “But I wasn’t,” he replied tersely. “We seem to be speaking at cross purposes, but perhaps it is because there are things between us needing attention.” He rose from his seat and held out his hand. “Shall we go into the library where we can speak privately?”

  Tina was suddenly worried. What now? She didn’t want to discuss that silly contract now, but she knew she had little choice. It would have to be discussed sooner or later. But why not later? a little voice asked. Suppose there are other things he wants to discuss? the voice tempted. Suppose he wants to kiss you again? She shouldn’t let him.

  Tina’s cheeks suddenly grew warm and, to keep her hands from straying up to them, she put her hand in his and allowed him to draw her to her feet.

  The interior of the house was cool after the warmth of the terrace, the dimness hiding the red flags she knew stained her cheeks. Tina felt a measure of calm return. Did he even know about the betrothal contract? He had to—it would have been part of his father’s papers.

  The library was one of Tina’s favorite rooms. Large and airy with floor to ceiling bookshelves interspersed with floor to ceiling windows allowing in sunlight no matter the time of year, she and Felicia spent many of their evenings here. Because it faced north, during the winter this room was particularly inviting, catching more of the weak winter sun than the parlor she preferred during the summer.

  Jay seated her in one of the overstuffed chairs facing the desk and retrieved something from one of the desk drawers. Returning, he handed her a document, then leaned back against the desk, arms crossed over his chest, and watched her unfold it.

  “Recognize it?” he asked.

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The betrothal contract sat befor
e her, her name and Jay’s written across the top.

  “I’d like your opinion on it.”

  She looked up at him then, eyes wide in a face she knew had gone suddenly pale. “What kind of opinion?”

  “Is it valid? Enforceable? Should it be honored?”

  Tina’s hands shook. “I—I think you should ask a solicitor those questions,” she responded, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

  “I already have,” he retorted, “but I would like to know what you think.”

  “Wh—why?”

  “Because you are affected by whatever happens to it. Whether it is honored—or discarded—you are primarily affected by it.”

  “And you are not?”

  “I am,” he agreed, “but not in the same way you are.”

  “Oh.” She looked down at the document again. She was slowly calming down and now thoughts raced through her head. What should she tell him? The truth, of course. She rarely backed away from a problem and prevaricating, or telling a half-truth, would make her a coward. If he took her advice and threw it out the window, then what? There was only one way to find out. “I’m not sure it’s enforceable,” she told him, “at least, in regard to you, that is.”

  “Why?”

  Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she looked up at him again, and nearly forgot what she was going to say. “Because you were not a party to it. Mama didn’t want Papa to add your name, but he did it anyway. Then, after Papa died, Mama said she couldn’t destroy it—we had to wait for you to return to do something about it.”

  “And what did she expect me to do?”

  “I don’t know. She never said—just that we had to wait.”

  “Is that why you never had a season?”

  Startled by the sudden change in topic, she answered, “No. Papa died in the summer and by the time I would have been old enough to be presented, we were still in mourning. The next year, Mama was not well and the doctor said it would not be good for her to go to London. Then she died that winter, so the next opportunity we were in mourning again. After that Mr. Milton refused to provide the funds for a season. Not that I knew anyone who could have sponsored me.”