After The Storm (9 page)

“In the morning room, my lord.”

The earl beamed as he left the butler at his back and
opened the doors into the room, where his grin broadened as his
eyes found those of his sister’s. She had been seated at a dainty
Oriental desk situated between yards and yards of yellow drapery
but jumped up at his entrance.

“Gwen, what a picture you are!” he said fondly.

His twin sister screeched with delight and nearly
toppled her chair as she ran towards him. With extended hands, she
took his.

Gwen Henley was his twin, and he was aware of the
tremendous likeness between them. She had the same black hair,
though she wore it cropped around her piquant face. She was tall
and elegant and at that moment sported a fashionable day gown of
maize muslin. Like his, her eyes were blue and at that moment
glinted with anticipation as she asked, “Jason, what can this mean,
you coming back so soon? I had not expected you until later this
week?”

“I have it on very excellent authority that you have
been wishing to hear from me these three days, so you should be
very happy, instead of wishing me away. Faithless twin.”

She rapped him across his arm. “Did it not take, you
and the Digby chit?”

“No, that did not take,” he answered grimly. “How you
can have thought she and I would suit?”

“I did not think it, but we are desperate and she
would make a lovely countess …” She wrung her hands. “Now what
am I to do?”

“Nothing. All is well,” he said with a mischievous
smile.

“Jason—tell me at once!” she demanded.

He brushed an imaginary speck off his dark blue
superfine and brought his eyes up to her matching blue ones. Before
he could speak, however, he was interrupted by a child no more than
four years old rushing at him, arms extended, with a gray-haired
nanny in hot pursuit.

“Uncle Jason, I saw you, I saw you from the window!”
the boy announced joyously.

Uncle Jason ruffled the boy’s dark curls as he found
himself hugged around his calves.

“I have done it, Uncle Jason, want to see me to it
again?”

“Not now, love,” his mama said sweetly. “Your uncle
and I have something to discuss. Whatever you want him to see, he
can see later.”

“Now, please, Mama, now …” the boy wailed
fretfully.

“What is it you want me to see, Master Henley?” asked
his uncle dutifully.

“I killed the dragon, with the sword you brought me
the last time you were here. I killed him dead eight or five
times!” Master Henley announced proudly.

“Did you, by God?” exclaimed the earl with a proper
show of awe. “And did you save the fair damsel, my lad?”

“Oh, that was not as much fun,” his nephew replied
with a disgusted shake of his young head. “Did you know that
damsels are girls?” He sighed. “But I couldn’t let the dragon eat
even a girl, so, yes, I saved the damsel and then sent her on her
way!”

The earl and his sister laughed over this, and the
four-year-old had his head ruffled again before his mother said,
“Go on, now, for your uncle will come by and have a nice visit with
you another time. Right now, we have business to discuss, so
knowing that you are my big boy, I know you will understand.”

He puffed up. “I am a big boy, and I do understand,
but I so wish, Uncle, that you could come to my room if not
now … very soon?”

“I shall, I promise you,”

“It may be that the Yogurt Ogre will be there when
you come and you may watch me slay him,” said the earl’s
nephew.

“Robin, I would love to watch you slay the Yogurt
Ogre, for I have never seen one and did not know they could be
slain,” his uncle said respectfully.

“Oh, yes, he is forever trying to steal my yogurt,”
said Robin as he gave his nanny his hand and allowed her to lead
him away.

The earl chuckled and told his sister, “He is a
precious scamp. Looks like his father, though he has your eyes.” He
shook his head. “You could have allowed me to watch him slay one
dragon. I love the little man. Poor thing, sending him off like
that when he was so excited.”

She smiled and sighed. “He is always excited when you
come by. Next time, you can plan a visit with him, but this time, I
am a selfish wretch and declare you for myself if only for a few
more minutes.” She pulled him to the sofa, and they took a seat
before she looked into his eyes and demanded, “What did you mean,
all is well?” When he did not immediately reply, she wagged a
finger and said, “Speak, you!”

He laughed. “I shall keep this simple, Gwen, and tell
you that I am to be married next week, by special license.”

She jumped to her feet and exclaimed, “What? But you
said you and Lavina did not take?”

“That is correct. I am not going to wed Lavina, but
another,” he said mischievously, enjoying keeping her in
suspense.

She pulled a face at him, and her hands went to her
hips. “Tell me at once, whom you are marrying?”

The earl chuckled and stood up to clasp his hands
behind his back and pace a bit before he turned and faced his
sister. He leaned back, rested his rump against the desk, crossed
his booted legs at his ankles, folded his arms across his massive
chest, and said lightly, “I am betrothed to Miss Jennifer Ashley of
Ashley Grange.”

The earl had little time to analyze the stirring
within his body that his own words had caused, for his sister
whittled the distance between them to a fraction of an inch and
took his both arms to gasp and declare, “Oh, my faith! Jason, you
are in earnest!”

“Well, and why shouldn’t I be?” His sister’s reaction
to his announcement was not what he had expected, and he regarded
her with some bemusement.

For answer his sister gaped at him open-mouthed,
apparently so over-set that she was unable to speak.

“Gwen?” He chuckled. “What the devil is wrong with
you?”

“You cannot marry Jenny Ashley!” his sister
declared.

~
Six ~

JENNY REINED IN Whisper and said softly, “That’s my
boy, such a good boy.” As he slowed to a walk, she reached behind
her neck, gathered her wayward tresses, and tied them once more
with the red ribbon that had fallen loose.

It was a glorious morning. The sun shone upon a
pattern of fields whose cornstalks were beginning to reach for the
sky. She had ridden past the fields, past the meadows of colorful
wildflowers, and towards Blackdown Hills for this view. “Faith,”
she said out loud, “Whisper, what have I done?” She came to a
complete stop and stared out on the countryside she loved. If only
her father and Aunt Beth had not been so very determined to launch
her into a London Season. Perhaps then, she would not have accepted
the earl’s proposal?
Lie!
Her voice again, that old
no-nonsense Jenny speaking up.

The evening before had seemed surreal. She had felt
divorced from most of its proceedings. She had been mildly
astonished to find that her aunt made no objection to her hasty
engagement. Contrary to her expectations, her aunt seemed excited
at the news.

The earl had arrived for dinner, and while she
thought conversation would be uncomfortable, it had been both
stimulating and surprisingly delightful. The earl had put himself
to the task of setting everyone at their ease. He did this with
charming adroitness, and Jenny was conscious of a stirring of
admiration. He amused them with the more innocent exploits from his
foolish youth as he called it. Jenny found herself watching her
father, who appeared somewhat captivated by his future son-in-law,
and she had smiled pleasurably to herself. It was good, so good to
see her father happy.

The breeze reminded Jenny that she was on horseback,
and as her gelding stepped lively in place, objecting to the sudden
strong wind, she patted his neck and said softly, “Easy, Whisper,
easy.” Smiling, she was pleased to see the instant response he had
to her voice.

She turned and headed for the grange, recalling the
walk she’d taken with the earl after dinner. Wisteria scent had
filled the air with its exotic perfume, and at that moment, she had
felt content with her decision.

The earl took her hand and put it to his lips, and
her eyelids fluttered before he said, “Jenny, earlier, I went over
the wedding arrangements with your father, but as far as the date
is concerned, I want your approval before making the
announcement.”

“I see. When exactly did you wish the marriage to
take place?” she answered, feeling as though she were making some
odd business purchase.

“Friday next. I know it is a bit soon, but I feel
that a delay would be, in our case, somewhat pointless.”

She felt fear rush through her body. What was she
doing? She was giving her life to this virtual stranger? That other
voice again whispered something awful in her ear, but she found she
was strong enough to silence it. Instead she listened to her voice,
and her voice said clearly,
You want him. You have wanted him
from the moment he kissed you.
She felt a wave of disbelief.
Was she wicked? Was it wicked to feel this way?

She answered him, “I can appreciate your reasoning.
Very well, Friday next, but my lord, I must insist that the wedding
take place here in Devon, and that our family minister handle the
ceremony.”

“Of course, my dear,” he said, smiling. “I would not
refuse you anything so long as it is in my power to accommodate
your requests.”

She gave him a half smile and realized he held her
hand still. She withdrew it from his fingers and lowered her eyes.
“I also would prefer a small wedding, my lord.”

He clasped his ungloved hands behind his back and
said quietly, “As you wish. I understand that we cannot accommodate
a large group at such short notice.”

She sighed, well pleased with his agreeable manner,
and said, “Poor Papa is so bewildered that he will of course leave
it all to Aunt Beth, who will know just what to do.”

“Now it is my turn to request a boon,” he said
lightly.

Surprised, her gaze met his as she said, “But what
more could you possibly want from me?” A tease lined her voice.

He laughed. “Indeed, your hand in marriage should
satisfy, and it does, but I have a request.”

“What is that, my lord?”

“If you must go running through the pastures in
peasant dresses, kindly do so with your maid in attendance,” he
said, grinning broadly.

Her hands went to her hips, and defiance lined her
tone “I will not. When I run through the pastures, I walk, I skip,
hop, and will not be hampered, which I would be with my aunt’s poor
elderly maid.”

He laughed and flicked her nose, and Jenny noticed an
odd expression in his deep blue eyes before he said, “Then beware,
miss—the next time your assailant may take the precaution of
safeguarding himself from that dangerous little foot of yours!”

She laughed in spite of herself and shook her head.
At the French door to the study, he took her hand, in spite of the
fact that she attempted to extract it from his firm hold. She
watched him as he put it to his lips and dropped a light kiss on
her knuckles before releasing it back to her.

“Good night, Jenny, my Jenny. I shall see you here
Friday next.”

Startled she put out a hand and took hold of his
sleeve. “What …? Not till then?”

“I am afraid not. There is a great deal to do,
including obtaining a special license.”

“Never say you are riding to London tonight?”

He chuckled. “I am pressed for time, but, no, sweet
Jenny. I will ride for two hours or so and stop at an inn I
know.”

She inclined her head and bid him safe journey.

“Fare thee well, my bride. Friday next,” he said, and
she felt a caress in his voice.

Heat had rushed to her cheeks. Her heartbeat had
increased in strength. An absurd urge to reach out for him and ask
him to stay a bit longer had to be beaten out of her brain. And
then she watched him leave, aware, very aware of a strong sensation
she had never felt before. What was wrong with her? How could she
have such feelings?

She swept away thoughts of the evening and looked up
at the lovely morning sky. So much would change. Her entire life
would change, and if she were honest, it was what she wanted. This
last year had been hell.

She needed a new beginning, and she wanted this
union.

She reached the grange, put away her horse, and
walked lost in thought to her front door. There she was met by
their butler, who had been on familiar terms with her for years.
“Miss Jenny, with all the excitement of your announcement this
morning, I quite forgot to give this to you before you went out for
your ride.”

Jenny took up the letter he held out to her and
thanked him as she went towards the library. Normally, the name on
the envelope would have made her smile. Now, it made her bite her
bottom lip. Whatever would Mac think? Whatever would he say?

She reached the library, thankful that she had a
moment there alone. She sank onto a comfortable chair by the window
and opened the letter to read:

Well, little miss:

I don’t ask that you dance, Jen. I don’t ask that
you sing. I ask that you listen to music now, watch the sun rise,
and let those things make you smile again. Last month when I
visited with you, I felt sick watching the woman you were becoming.
You were still so completely enswathed in misery. It is time, Jen,
for you to return to us.

I miss you terribly, and you will have to watch out,
little miss, for when I arrive this time, I expect you to properly
entertain your guest. I want to be shown the countryside and taken
to the local festivities, and I want to hear you laugh!

I am affectionately yours,

Mac

Jenny dropped the letter to her lap and covered her
eyes with the palms of her hands.
Mac
, she thought,
la,
but how am I to explain what I don’t quite understand myself? How
can I write that I am not dancing, I am not singing, but I am going
to get married in a week’s time? You will never understand that I
find the arrangement I made with the earl so much more preferable
than allowing my father and aunt to put me out for a matchmaking
season in London.