The Scandalous Adventures of the Sister of the Bride (34 page)

“Then tell me this, Elizabeth.” He leaned closer, his gaze boring into hers. “Why
did you never seek to obtain a divorce?”

She lifted her chin. “There has never before been a divorce in this family and I have
no intention of being the first.”

“I see.” The colonel nodded thoughtfully. “And I thought it might be because then
you would have to confess all. That we were still married. And that I had a son.”

She paused. “Well, I suppose that might have been a factor—”

“And that you still harbored some affection for me.”

“Don’t be absurd.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I certainly haven’t been
pining away for you if that’s what you think.”

“I don’t know what to think. This has all been something of a shock.”

“For all of us,” Jack added.

“It’s not been particularly easy for me either,” his mother said under her breath.

“Good God, Elizabeth.” His father glared. “For all you knew, I could have remarried.”

“Nonsense.” She sniffed. “You were not the marrying type.”

“I married you, didn’t I?”

“That scarcely counts!” She glared back at him. “Besides, you agreed that it was a
mistake.”

“Only because I couldn’t fight your parents, who were determined that our marriage
be annulled. And you were completely under their thumbs.”

“I was not!” She hesitated. “Well, perhaps I was but I was a mere girl of eighteen
and it did seem that we had been impulsive and—”

“And as much as I hate to interrupt and suggest that the two of you work out your
marital
entanglements
another time there are other issues to settle at the moment.” Jack turned his gaze
to his mother. “While I can probably make allowances for your failure to tell him
he had a son, I don’t understand why you never told me I had a father. A
living
father.”

“I intended to. It just never seemed quite the right time, that’s all.” She shrugged
as if it didn’t matter but the evasive look in her eyes and the set of her shoulders
said more than words that she knew how very much it did. “First you were too young
to understand. And even as you grew older it was difficult to find the right words.
And then you were, well, an adult with your own life and it didn’t really seem to
be of significance one way or the other. After a while, I suppose you could say that
it simply slipped my mind.”

“It slipped your mind?” Jack stared at her. “Didn’t I have a right to know?”

“Didn’t
I
have a right to know?” his father added.

“And what about me?” She fisted her hands on her hips. “I am your mother and your”—she
closed her eyes as if praying for strength—“
wife
. Don’t I have any rights?”

“Mother, don’t be absurd. You’re a woman.” The words were out of his mouth an instant
before he realized what a mistake they were.

His father choked.

Mother’s glare shifted from one man to the other. “Well, you certainly are his son.
I’m surprised I haven’t noticed it before. Now then, I am going to return to the dining
room.” She directed an annoyed look at her husband. “Basil, do honor us with your
presence for dinner.”

His father’s eyes twinkled with triumph. “I would be delighted.”

“On one condition,” she said firmly. “There is to be no mention, from either of you,
that he is my husband.”

“You think they won’t notice the similarities in name?” Jack said.

“I could be the cousin of your late husband,” father said in a helpful manner that
should have earned him credit but elicited a scathing look from Mother nonetheless.

“I am not trying to orchestrate a theatrical production.” She heaved a resigned sigh.
“But yes, I think that might work, however—”

A knock sounded at the door and it opened almost at once.

“I do beg your pardon but is anything wrong?” Lucinda Merryweather stepped into the
room and glanced around. “You’ve been gone so long we were wondering if there was
a problem.” Lucy smiled her familiar, bright smile.

Jack had known Lucy for all of her life. She was unfailingly cheerful, possessed a
fine mind, and was really quite lovely with her fair hair and slightly turned up nose.
Marrying Lucy would not be a hardship. Their families had planned their marriage since
the day she was born and they were well suited to each other. Why, in very many ways
she had long been his dearest friend. And he did love her of course. Who wouldn’t?

They had never kept anything from each other and Jack saw no reason why he should
start keeping anything from her now. Especially a matter of this magnitude. She was
to be his wife one day, after all.

“Come in, Lucy, and please close the door behind you.” Jack cast an affectionate smile
at the young woman he was almost, nearly, practically engaged to.

“Do you think that’s wise?” Annoyance sounded in his mother’s voice.

“Lucy and I have no secrets, Mother,” Jack said firmly. “She deserves to know what
is going on.”

“Secrets?” Lucy’s blue eyes widened with delight. “Oh, I simply adore a good secret.”
She turned her attention to the colonel. “And I suspect that has to do with you, doesn’t
it?”

His father chuckled. “I’m afraid so.”

Mother sighed and moved back toward the brandy decanter.

Lucy stepped toward the older man and extended her hand. “We haven’t met but you are
obviously related to Jackson.”

Her father took her hand, a pleased note in his voice. “Do you think so?”

“Oh my, yes. The resemblance is unmistakable. You share the same coloring and in spite
of the gray, it’s obvious your hair was once as dark as his. And the blue of your
eyes is very nearly the exact same shade as his.” Lucy directed her words to Jack
even as her gaze stayed on his father’s face. “Goodness, Jackson, do you realize this
is exactly how you will look in twenty or thirty years.” A flirtatious twinkle shone
in Lucy’s eye. “I must say, I am going to like it.”

“Lucy.” Jack drew a deep breath. “This is my—”

“Oh, I knew who he is,” she said, studying his father curiously. “This is Colonel
Basil Channing. I read an article about him.” She glanced at Jack. “The similarity
in name, you know, caught my eye although I must say his photographs don’t do him
justice. I didn’t notice any sort of resemblance at all until now.” She nodded. “He’s
quite famous.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say famous,” his father said in a modest manner. “Well known perhaps,
in certain circles.”

“He’s an, oh, what’s the word? Adventurer I suppose.” She shivered with delight. “How
very exciting.”

“What on earth have you been reading?” Mother said under her breath and poured a new
glass of brandy.

“And better yet, you’re part of the family.” Lucy beamed. “Just how are the two of
you related?”

“He’s Jackson’s father’s brother,” Mother said quickly. “Or his cousin, something
like that. Now, we should return to the others.”

“No, he’s not.” Jack braced himself. “He’s my father.”

“Really?” Lucy’s eyes widened. “How delightful. And that does explain the resemblance.”
She leaned toward the colonel in a confidential manner. “But aren’t you supposed to
be dead?”

“Rumor.” His father shrugged. “Nothing more than that.”

Lucy nodded solemnly. “Rumors can be dreadfully hard to stop once they take hold.
And in your case, one might say they were positively . . .” Her eyes twinkled with
laughter. “Fatal?”

The colonel chuckled. “One could say that.” His father glanced at Jack. “I like her.”

“Everyone likes Lucinda, Basil.” Mother took a fast swig of her drink.

“Of course they do,” Lucy said. “I am unfailingly pleasant, cordial to a fault, and
I am rather more intelligent than is seemly in a woman but I am clever enough to keep
that to myself.” She smiled in an overly sweet manner. “For example, right this very
moment, I am well aware that there is more to this meeting than any of you have revealed
thus far. Admittedly, it doesn’t take a great deal of intelligence to ascertain that.
After all, it isn’t every day that a man’s dead father and a woman’s late husband
appears just in time for dinner. Add to that the fact that Mrs. Channing is drinking
brandy before dinner, which I have never seen her do before; and Jackson has the oddest
sort of stunned look in his eyes, well, as I said there is more to this story.” She
settled on the sofa and looked at the gathering expectedly. “A story I would very
much like to hear.”

“Yes, well it’s not a story I wish to tell at the moment.” Mother inched toward the
door. “And there is dinner—”

“Dinner can wait, as I would like to hear this story as well.” Jack glanced at Lucy.
“She’s been remarkably reticent to reveal anything at all thus far.”

“Imagine my surprise,” Lucy murmured.

“Go on, Mother,” Jack said in his best banking and trust vice-presidential voice.
“Tell us your story.”

“I really don’t think now . . .” Mother glanced around the room then sighed. “Oh,
very well.” She downed the rest of her brandy and drew a deep breath. “Thirty years
ago, my father served as a financial advisor to an American company that had interests
in India. That position required him to travel to that part of the world. Mother and
I accompanied him as neither of us had traveled extensively. It was quite exciting
as I recall.” She glanced at her son. “Travel is extremely broadening, you know.”

“I am well aware of that, Mother.” Jack had always thought he would have a grand tour
when he finished his studies. But he had started at the bank and one thing had led
to another and he had never quite had the time a grand tour would require. He had
responsibilities after all.

“I have always wanted to travel,” Lucy said under her breath.

“Continue, Mother.”

“While in India, I met a young, dashing, handsome British officer. He was quite, well,
irresistible.”

Father tried and failed to hide a satisfied grin.

“We knew each other for only a few weeks but I fancied myself madly in love, the way
only someone young and inexperienced can be. It was all terribly romantic.” She shrugged.
“In a moment of mad, starry-eyed impulse we eloped.”

“Scarcely a moment,” his father said. “As I recall it took quite a bit of secrecy
and several days of machinations to arrange. It was not at all easy.” He smiled at
his wife. “But well worth it.”

“Don’t try to be flirtatious with me, Basil.” Mother huffed. “I am long past the time
when that sort of thing will work on me. Especially coming from you.”

“My apologies, Elizabeth.” His father struggled to keep a smile off his face. “You
can’t blame me for trying.”

“I most certainly can.” Mother paused. “Now where was I? Oh yes, we were married.
My parents were not at all pleased. In fact, Father was livid. He thought I had surely
lost my mind. I had never been an impulsive sort. They pointed out Basil and I had
nothing in common. He was English after all and I was American.”

“That doesn’t seem like a great deal to overcome,” Jack said.

“That wasn’t all. They said we were being reckless and irresponsible. That marriage
was forever and we hadn’t given it due consideration. They said our marrying was nothing
more than the foolish actions of youth. There was more, of course, but I don’t remember
all of it now. Suffice it to say, they convinced me”—she looked at her husband—“or
rather they convinced
us
we had made a dreadful mistake.” She shook her head. “You must understand I did not
have nearly the strength of character then that I do now.”

“The biggest mistake I made was allowing them to convince me,” his father said.

“Stop it, Basil.” Mother glared at him and continued. “My parents said the best way
to resolve the situation was to return to America and have the marriage annulled.
And so your father and I parted. By the time I returned home I realized I was with
child, which made an annulment impossible.” She raised a shoulder in a casual shrug.
“And that’s all there is to it really.”

Jack stared at his mother. “Although I believe you have left out the part where you
never mentioned to my father that he had a son. Or the part where you failed to tell
me I had a father who was very much alive.”

She waved off Jack’s comments. “You already know that part. I didn’t think it was
necessary to repeat it. So.” She cast them her brightest smile. “Shall we go in to
dinner?”

“No.” Jack shook his head. “You really have given no good reason as to why you didn’t
tell me about my father. What you’ve said thus far is not a satisfactory explanation.
I think I—I think
we
—deserve better.”

“Nonetheless that’s all I have.” Mother’s jaw tightened. “Would you prefer that I
say I was afraid? Afraid that your father would snatch you away from me? Afraid that
you would hate me if you had learned the truth? Is that what you want to hear?”

“Only if it’s the truth,” Jack said slowly.

“Very well then, I suppose that was part of it.” She shook her head. “I had no desire
to lose my only child.”

“Did you really think I would do that?” his father said quietly.

“How did I know what you would do? I barely knew you, after all.” She paused and her
voice softened. “I truly did try to write to you, Basil, but I couldn’t find the words.
And the longer I put it off, the harder it was. Surely you understand?”

Lucy nodded. “It’s like running into someone you’ve met over and over again, but you
can’t remember their name. And the longer that you go on without asking what their
name is the harder it is to ask.” She shook her head. “That can be most embarrassing.”

“Exactly.” Mother thought for a moment. “Well not exactly but you do understand my
dilemma.” Her gaze shifted from Lucy to Jack to her husband. “Do you? Understand,
that is?”

“Not really,” Jack muttered. “Especially since this is far more important than not
being able to remember someone’s name.”

“But surely you can forgive me?” A hopeful note sounded in his mother’s voice. “It
is all water under the bridge now, isn’t it?”