Heaven Bound (A Blakemore Family Book: Madame Lou Series Book 2) (16 page)

“Stop that now,” Winston shrugged him off. “My guests will think we’ve gone soft.”

Jack pulled away but smiled, knowing he and Winston were both weak as toddlers when it came to the women they loved.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” A tall dark-haired man approached the brothers. “Lovely party, Abingdon. Too bad those four are making such fools of themselves over the American. I mean she’s lovely, no doubt, but they’re really behaving quite desperately and you must admit it is not becoming to men with their lineage.”

Jackson tried to hide his fury at what he perceived as a slight against Addie as he waited for his brother to introduce him to this pompous gentleman. A peer, no doubt.

“Suffolk, do not disparage Miss James. Jackson, here, is a friend of her and her father’s.” Winston said the man’s name and Jack realized this was the Earl of Suffolk, O’Neill Mansfield.

“Ah, Jack, so good to meet you finally.” The earl bowed his head. “Please, don’t think I meant any harm to the lady, indeed the insult was intended for the gentlemen. They are not fit for her regard, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Indeed,” Jack said, deciding he might actually like this nobleman upon closer acquaintance. “They aren’t fit to be in her presence, let alone ask for her hand.”

“So, are you gentlemen looking forward the entertainment I’ve arranged for this evening?” Suffolk asked casually, politely ignoring the way Jack had been staring at Adeline.

“You arranged for the psychic to be here?” Jackson asked, trying not to laugh. “I wouldn’t have guessed you were a believer in mysticism, Lord Suffolk.”

“Do, please drop the ‘Lord’, Bradley. I hate pretentiousness. And yes, I commissioned the spiritualist to travel to the party tonight. But whether or not I’m a believer is yet to be determined. All I know for certain is that this particular medium intrigues me like no other I’ve witnessed.”

“And why is that, old friend?” Winston asked. “You do realize that I wouldn’t have allowed anyone other than you to bring such a creature into our midst.”

“Thank you for trusting me, Abingdon,” the earl said, then lowered his voice so only the two brothers could hear what he said next. “I have seen this woman—this gypsy—commune with dead souls like no other spiritualist I have witnessed before. She uses no tricks or special effects; she simply speaks for the deceased after entering a sort of trance.”

“But I don’t understand, Suffolk; why would that be so extraordinary?” Winston looked confused by his friend’s description. “It doesn’t sound nearly as entertaining as the ones I’ve heard about with bumping in the walls, floating tables, lights flickering and all sorts of other interesting illusions.”

“True,” O’Neill admitted. “But what is unique about this clairvoyant or whatever you want to call her is how utterly accurate Madame Lou is with her otherworldly communications. And that she has an uncanny ability to somehow bring about unexpected marriages.”

Jack had not anticipated such an odd conclusion about a psychic. And now that he thought about it, he wondered again if this was the same Madame Lou that Clara had been babbling about at one point during her sickness. He had tried to forget a lot of those heartbreaking moments, but now that he thought about it, he was almost certain Madame Lou had been the other spiritualist that Clara had spoken of. How odd that the woman was some sort of matchmaking medium. It must be a coincidence, Jack thought, Clara couldn’t have known anything about this woman, having never actually met her.

“I don’t know about Jack, here, but I’m certainly looking forward to being amazed this evening. Now if you’ll excuse me, Suffolk, I’d better circulate among my guests for a while. I’m afraid you and my brother have kept me from my obligations as host.” Winston wandered off, leaving the two gentlemen alone.

“So, Bradley, your brother told me about your loss.” Suffolk said, obviously trying in his own way to be considerate. “I hope you’ll join us for the séance tonight, despite that it was so recent. I wouldn’t want the woman to inadvertently upset you, old chap.”

“Appreciate your concern, Suffolk.” Jackson said, wondering if perhaps he should skip the evening’s festivities. “But I’ve finally been able to put my wife’s passing behind me. I realized how angry she would be with me if I continued to mourn her. It was her greatest fear. She was indeed the love of my life, but if I don’t accept that she is gone, then I might as well die myself.”

Jackson surprised himself by confessing something so personal with a man he had only met a few minutes ago. “I must apologize, Suffolk. I had no intention of taking such intimate liberties with your time.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Bradley.” The earl was grinning at Jack in what could only be perceived as a charming manner. “I tend to bring it out in people. No idea why, but there you have it. Come on then, friend,” he said, putting an arm around Jack’s shoulder and turning him back towards the house. “Let’s you and I go find ourselves something a wee bit stronger to toast this new, mutually-agreeable alliance.”

Jackson allowed himself to be removed from the picnic. He was actually quite relieved not to have to observe Adeline and her suitors any longer. Besides, a strong drink was exactly what he’d been longing for.

Cassiopeia was hot and uncomfortable, sitting all decked out in her Madame Lou garb on the train headed for West Berkshire. She had wanted to change later, at the train station before the carriage came to fetch her to the estate, but there hadn’t been time as she’d slept in because of Clara waking her in the middle of the night. Not only was she sweltering from the heat of the August day and poorly-ventilated carriage car, but added to that were the curious stares of the other passengers. Cassiopeia did not enjoy making a public spectacle of her Madame Lou persona, which was why she only did readings either in the tea room or at private parties. But the public deception had been unavoidable, as she would not have time to change her appearance in so short an interval. Damn Lord Suffolk and his infernal curiosity. Of course, that was ridiculous, she knew, because if the earl hadn’t arranged for her to be present at Basildon Park, she may have never been able to garner an audience with Jackson Bradley. So in reality, she should be grateful to the earl. But for some reason she could not seem to pinpoint, the man never ceased to annoy her, and yet she couldn’t deny that she also found herself looking forward to their encounters. Curious.

Adeline felt his absence from the picnic as soon as Jackson walked away with the Earl of Suffolk. She had been introduced to the earl and thought that, although he was quite charming as well as handsome, there was something distant about his regard. He had no need of her inheritance, and he didn’t appear to want to end his state of bachelorhood, so she did not spend too much time thinking about him until she saw the man pull Jack away.

“Miss James, can I get you some more champagne? Or perhaps some ice cream?” the duke asked, trying to outshine his competitors.

“I think Miss James would prefer some tea and biscuits,” the marquis chimed in, not willing to be outdone by a man who barely outranked him.

The baron, on the other hand, knowing he couldn’t compete with the other gentlemen when it came to titles, simply kept up his amusing banter that made Adeline laugh with delight. But keeping up her end of the three-way flirtation was becoming exhausting and eventually Addie had to beg the gentlemen’s forgiveness and excuse herself.

“I so admire your fortitude.” Beatrice said as Adeline joined her hostess at a linen-covered table in the shade of one of the fruit trees that dotted this part of the property. “I’m fatigued just from watching you.”

“It is like watching a train wreck; you just can’t look away.” Henrietta added.

Adeline smiled and waited for the footman to pour freshly-made lemonade into their ice-filled glasses.

“Thank you, Henry.” Beatrice addressed the young man by name. “Why don’t you take a break and have a few cakes while you rest? I think you’ve more than earned it.”

“Thank you, milady,” Henry responded without inflection and bowed in assent, but like any proper English servant, did not obey his mistress’s inappropriate advice.

“They work so hard,” Mrs. Bradley sighed, waving her hand at all the busy footmen ensuring everyone had a full glass of champagne or icy lemonade and plenty of tasty things to eat. “I do so worry that we don’t do enough for them.”

“It’s not these men and women who you should spend your time and concern on.” Adeline said, sipping her cold drink. “The people who really need our attention are the factory workers, especially the women and children who are forced to work even when sick or injured. If they refuse or don’t show up one day, they are simply fired and replaced, even if they were hurt at the factory due to the owner’s negligence.”

“Oh, how awful!” Beatrice exclaimed. “I had no idea things were so unpleasant for the working class in the city. Somehow I had convinced myself that just having an occupation was better than starving, but I can see now that it just isn’t that simple. Tell me more about what we can do to help, Addie.”

“Yes, Addie, what can we do?” Lady Huntingdon was eager as well.

Pleased to be sharing her passion for reform with these lovely women, Adeline launched into a discussion of labor reform and her other progressive ideas. Beatrice was eager to learn more and they lost track of time as they ate cakes, jellied aspics and small sandwiches, and drank more lemonade. Soon, though, their pregnant companion’s eyes began to droop and, realizing how late the afternoon had grown, Adeline finally insisted it was time for them to return to the house.

“Beatrice, dear, you need to rest before dinner.” Henrietta said.

Addie motioned for the footman from earlier to approach. “Henry, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Miss.” Henry answered, only showing slight surprise that she had remembered his name. “Would you find a conveyance for Mrs. Bradley? She needs to return to the house, please.”

“Of course, Miss, right away.” Henry dashed off and found a buggy and a driver. After he handed his mistress, the countess, and Adeline up onto the leather seats, he then climbed up next to the driver to accompany them home. Addie admired his loyalty and dedication to his mistress.

After Adeline saw that Beatrice’s lady’s maid had taken her mistress under her capable wing, and Lady Huntingdon retired to her room, she wandered out into the rose garden at the back of the house, wanting to be alone for a moment to think about the day. The smell here was quite magnificent, with many of the roses in full bloom. The beautiful blossoms were in every shade imaginable and the garden was arranged in several configurations.

As she walked along the paths, she considered her suitors and wondered what they really thought of her. Did they only see her fortune when they looked at her? Or did they really see her, Adeline Margaret James—suffragette, and labor reform activist? Of course, they probably knew nothing of her private interests. And since last night, she could add one more thing to her list; passionate, vibrant woman. Jackson had shown her that side of herself. Only Jack knew that woman.

Watching the sun sink lower in the sky, Adeline thought about the three gentlemen vying for her hand. Would any of them set her pulse racing and inflame her senses with their kisses? She knew there was only one way to find out. Making the decision that until she knew which of the three would satisfy this newly-discovered wanton side of her personality, she would only then be able to choose which one would become her husband. It only seemed fair that if this man were to get her inheritance as his incentive that she should have something in return.

She had three nights and two days to make her choice, so she would need to act quickly. Tonight, she would kiss as many of the three men as she could get time alone with. Addie hoped she knew what she was doing but, after her previous encounter with the Viscount of Denbigh, she worried she might be getting in over her head.

Later that evening, as Emily was helping her dress for dinner, Adeline chose one of her more daring Parisian creations to wear; a low-cut gown in a deep ruby shade that made her exposed skin glow.

“You look exquisite, Miss.” Emily said, adding diamond hairpins to her upswept hair style.

Adeline looked at herself, and could find nothing out of place. She was dressed tonight to tempt an indiscretion. She had on elbow-length black silk gloves and a ruby and diamond necklace that dangled into her exposed cleavage, tantalizing a man to look at her breasts gently swelling above the neckline of her dress. Her tiny waist was emphasized by the wide black silk sash that was tied in a bow right above her derriere; its ends falling all the way to floor. The dress itself was relatively simple with all the tucks and flounces understated in order not to compete with the décolletage. The sleeves were barely significant as if they were merely decorative scraps of silk that adorned the outsides of her shoulders, giving the viewer the illusion that the dress might slip off the wearer at any moment.

Satisfied with the result, Adeline dabbed a small amount of her very expensive French perfume behind her ears and, after a moment’s hesitation, between her breasts. She watched herself inhale deeply and was shocked as her breasts appeared to nearly pop out of their confined space. She questioned how wise this choice of dress was just for a moment, before dismissing her own doubts and heading downstairs.

* * *

The look on Winston’s face was one of utter amazement. Jackson turned to see what had entranced his brother to speechlessness and his own mouth dropped open in shock. Adeline had entered the main salon and every gentleman in the room was now staring with open admiration at the picture of lush exotic femininity she exemplified. If she had intended to create a stir, she had accomplished her goal, but Jackson could see from the blush that stole over all that lovely exposed skin that she hadn’t quite been prepared for the reaction she received. He was about to go to her rescue, but the duke beat him to it; which, of course, was more appropriate considering Lord Grafton was openly courting her. He was quickly joined by the marquis and the baron, who all vied for Addie’s attention by plying her with champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Jack had to look away, not wanting to see what he could never have. That moment in the library was all he would ever know of Adeline’s charms and he would content himself with the memory. She was meant for grander things and that was more obvious than ever tonight.

Turning his attention back to his brother and Lord Suffolk, Jackson continued their discussion about the latest politics back in London. O’Neill was bringing Winston up to speed with what the House of Lords was going to be discussing during their next session. Apparently, the suffragette movement had finally reached a point that it needed to be considered by the politicians.

The dinner that evening was formal and Jackson was sitting between Lady Matheson and Mrs. Carson, with Miss Primrose across from him.

“I hope to contact my dear brother tonight.” Mrs. Carson said during the first course of turtle consume and cream of barley soup.

Jackson encouraged the woman to tell him more as he was not about to volunteer a similar response. For the second course of fillet of haddock, he turned to Lady Matheson to inquire as to her dog, who he knew was her first love.

“Pierre has had a cold this week and so I had to leave the poor dear at home. But last month when I took him to the park, he did the most adorable thing.”

“Please, do tell.” Jack encouraged the woman to keep talking while he ate the roasted quail and drank what remained of his brother’s fine wines.

The dinner proceeded in that manner for the rest of the meal and the whole while Miss Primrose kept peeking at him shyly from across the table. Adeline, who was thankfully out of his line of vision, was apparently having a marvelous time, as Jackson could distinctly hear her musical laughter coming from the head of the table where the titled gentlemen were situated as was required per the social hierarchy.

After dinner, Jackson went looking for his brother, Marcus, whom he hadn’t seen since the picnic. Besides, he needed to escape not only from having to witness Addie flirt with her suitors, but just seeing her in that dress was igniting needs in him that he wasn’t in complete control of.

“How is Beatrice?” Jack asked, observing that Marcus’s wife was reclining on one of the sofas.

“Tired, I think.” Marcus said, nursing a glass of whiskey. “I haven’t told my wife about our suspicions that none of these incidents have been accidents and Father’s death wasn’t due to natural causes. I don’t want her to worry in her condition. Do you think I did the right thing, Jack?”

Jackson did not know if hiding the truth from his wife was indeed the right thing, but he did know his brother wasn’t really asking for his opinion but for confirmation that things were going to work out fine and they would all live happily ever after. Wishing he could make such promises, but still not completely sure of where they stood, Jack just shrugged his shoulders in a helpless gesture.

“I’m definitely on to something, Marcus, but I could just be seeing what I want to see.” Jack shook his head, beginning to doubt himself. “The old man liked his games, but even this is exponentially more complex than anything he used to create when we were boys.”

“Well, that makes sense, don’t you think?” Marcus said, suddenly sitting up straight. “I mean if you were Father, and you wanted to hide a great treasure, wouldn’t you want to make certain that no mere child could solve the puzzle? Think about it, Jackie, all those searches for a bag of candy or a shiny guinea when we were lads, was just training for this. He was just preparing us for the end game.”

Jack looked at his brother with new respect. Marcus had always been the underachiever of the three of them; knowing he wasn’t the heir, but would still inherit the parish living, he’d always understood that he didn’t need to work as hard as Winston who had to be the family representative as the heir apparent and Jackson who would have to stay in good graces in order to earn his allowance. When Jack had fallen out with Father, Marcus had been automatically elevated in the earl’s esteem simply by not disobeying him.

“By gosh, Marcus, I think you might have something there.” Jack said, rubbing his chin, trying to think how his father might have gone about creating this last great treasure hunt for his sons. “Did he leave a will? Or anything that was to be read after his death?”

“Maybe,” Marcus frowned, trying to think if he’d seen anything. “We’ll have to ask Winston. As the heir, he would have had more access to Father’s papers than me.”