Confessions of an Improper Bride, page 18
“Yes.”
“But why?”
Serena gave a jerk of a shrug. “Curiosity, I suppose. You see, my sister… Serena… well, she fell victim to Lord Stratford’s charms. She took his dismissal very poorly.”
Jane’s face softened into compassion, and she squeezed Serena’s hand. “Of course. I understand.”
“I suppose I just wonder… what became of him,” she said awkwardly.
“Well, most of what you said is true, unfortunately. Stratford did escape to Bath after hearing of your sister’s death. When he returned to London, he became someone I could hardly endure. He was a different person—dedicated to making his parents as miserable as he possibly could. When his brother Gervase died, it only became worse.”
“How?”
“It seemed like his singular goal was to make the world think the absolute worst of him. Women, drink, gambling… He engaged in nearly every vice you could imagine, and he did so with gusto. He broke many women’s hearts, ruined debutantes, engaged in liaisons with married women. I thought at times that he provoked gossip about himself only to enhance his poor reputation, and yet I saw some of his debauchery with my own eyes.”
“I see,” Serena said. The waters seemed to have solidified in her stomach. But Jane hadn’t directly answered to the accusation about the child born out of wedlock, and Serena was curious. “What about the child he was alleged to have fathered?”
Jane glanced at her and then looked away. “I believe that is one of the false rumors,” she murmured.
Good, she wanted to say. She couldn’t pinpoint why, but she hated the idea of Jonathan having a child.
Jane patted her hand. “None of it is important, though. It’s over, isn’t it? It’s all in the past. Stratford has moved on, and you have, too.”
Serena tried to smile. “Yes.”
“And in the last few months, it seems my cousin’s thirst for dissolution has finally been quenched. I can only hope that he’ll find a good lady soon to settle down with and marry.”
“Yes,” Serena agreed, though the thought of Jonathan marrying some conceited aristocratic beauty made her ache all over.
“Even though he always promised not to,” Jane continued.
Serena tilted her head in question.
“Oh, yes, after your sister left, Stratford was furious with his parents, and that fury lasted until his father’s death. When the old earl was on his deathbed, Stratford promised him that he’d never marry.” Jane chuckled, but the sound held little humor. “A servant heard and spread the rumor—it was quite a scandal for some time after the earl died.”
“But why was he so angry?” Serena asked. She’d known how annoyed Jonathan had been with his parents while they were together, but those had just seemed to be the frustrations of a young man whose parents were making unwanted limitations on him.
“I believe he partly blamed them for your sister’s death. They had forbidden him to acknowledge her, and when she left, he was inconsolable.”
“And when she died…” Serena’s voice trailed off.
“… He became someone else entirely,” Jane finished.
Serena and Jane had reached the doors, which one of the attendants held open for them. They stepped out into the blustery day. The rain had stopped, but cold washed over Serena’s face, harsh and chapping. Still, she was so grateful for Jane’s willingness to show her Bath.
“I’ve always longed to come here,” Serena said as they turned toward Jane’s waiting carriage. “Thank you so much for inviting me to join you—this might be my last chance to visit Bath.”
Jane’s thin brows snapped together. “Why’s that?”
“Will’s homes are in Northumberland and London. He plans for us to reside in London for the most part, due to his business, and also because he plans to help with my sisters’ Seasons for the next few years, but I think we’ll make frequent trips to the country.”
“And he’ll never travel anywhere else?”
Serena smiled. “Will is highly organized and eminently rational, and he rarely strays from his plans. I doubt he’ll find any reason for us to travel to Bath.”
“But you’ve come now,” Jane pointed out.
“Ah, but we’re not married yet. I decided to come independent of whether he chose to. Once I’m his wife, it’ll be different.”
The coachman opened the carriage door and lowered the step, then reached for Serena’s hand.
Jane pressed her lips together. “It shouldn’t be that way, Meg.”
“But it is,” Serena said, her voice mild as she took the coachman’s hand and slid across the seat, making room for Jane. She’d made peace with her future limitations as the summer days had gone by and she’d grown more familiar with Will’s ways. Meg wouldn’t mind. She’d want to be by her husband’s side and follow his well-planned agenda.
Meg would be happy living like that.
Chapter Fourteen
Serena woke to an incessant banging. It seemed like it had been going on for hours. She covered her face with her pillow in hopes of muffling the noise, but it did no good. Thump, bang, bang… Thump, bang, bang…
She threw off the pillow and swung her legs off the side of her bed, moving her toes around until they found the floor. She climbed down and gingerly felt her way to pull open the curtains. Moonlight streamed through the window, and she flung her robe over her shoulders and made her way to the door. She cracked the door open and looked into the corridor to see the silhouette of a figure already descending the stairs, candle in hand. Jane.
Hearing the sound of her footsteps, Jane looked over her shoulder and nodded at Serena, who thrust her arms into her robe as she followed her friend down the stairs.
“What is it?” Serena whispered.
“I’ve no idea. Let’s see for ourselves.”
At the bottom of the stairs, they turned and passed through the arched doorway leading to the entry hall. The butler, wearing a night shirt and a drooping night cap, was speaking to a dark-clad figure at the door.
“I beg you, sir, please return at a more tolerable hour—”
“No. I must see her now.”
“Stratford?” Jane exclaimed, rushing forward. “What on earth—?”
Swallowing hard, Serena moved to Jane’s side. “What is it? Has something happened to Phoebe?”
Seeing the two ladies for the first time, Jonathan doffed his hat. He looked directly at Serena. “I must speak with you.”
“What has happened?” she asked, choked by sudden fear. Why on earth had he come to Bath, and at this hour?
Jonathan’s gaze slid to his cousin, to the butler, and back to Serena. “Alone,” he clarified.
Beside her, Jane let out a harsh breath. “This is most uncivilized.”
Jonathan kept his focus on Serena, not breaking her gaze to look at his cousin. “Please.”
She gave him a tight nod and turned to Jane. “It’s all right.”
Frowning, Jane turned to her. “Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
Looking bewildered, Jane led them to the parlor and ordered the servant to stoke the fire and light the lanterns. After a few moments, the man had finished and was dismissed, and with a wary look at Serena and Jonathan, Jane followed, closing the door behind her with a light click.
After the door shut, Jonathan’s and Serena’s gazes swung toward each other.
“What is it?” Serena asked, breathless.
“It’s about your sister.”
Serena went stiff all over, more from the tightness in his expression than from his words.
“She left London day before yesterday. I went to your aunt’s house last evening to check on her, and Lady Alcott said you had summoned Phoebe to Bath. Did you?”
Serena took a moment to digest this. “No.”
“I thought not. I was certain if you had, you’d have made me aware of it.”
“Oh, God.” A hard ball of panic materialized in Serena’s gut. “She’s run off with Sebastian Harper, hasn’t she?”
“That seems to be the most likely scenario.”
She clenched her fists at her sides and glared at him, accusation burning hot in her eyes. “You said he left London.”
“He told me he was leaving London. That doesn’t mean he actually did.”
“He lied to you.”
“That’s highly probable.”
Serena ground her teeth. “The two of them planned this.”
Jonathan shifted uncomfortably. “When I asked your aunt where Phoebe had gone, she told me that a carriage arrived from Bath bearing a letter from you. In the letter, you stated that the carriage was borrowed from Lady Montgomery and that you wanted Phoebe to come to Bath now that her health had improved.”
“And Aunt Geraldine believed her, but you didn’t.”
Jonathan nodded. “Your aunt sent Phoebe and her maid off in the carriage…”
“… Which didn’t bring her here but took her to Sebastian Harper instead,” Serena finished with a groan.
“It seems so,” Jonathan said. “I’m sorry, Serena.”
Serena gave a long blink, her mind calculating rapidly. “Do you know where they’ve gone?”
“I imagine there are only two places they could go: Harper’s house in Prescot or Gretna Green.”
“Is his house anywhere near the road between here and Gretna?”
“Not too far. A few hours’ drive, at most.”
Serena heaved a breath. She didn’t want the world to know about this. Aunt Geraldine, Will, Mother—if any of them found out, there would be disastrous consequences. She had no choice but to ask Jonathan for help. Again. “Can you take me there?”
“You shouldn’t even feel compelled to ask. You know I will.”
“If anyone discovers that we traveled alone, there will be an enormous scandal. My reputation—Meg’s reputation—would be destroyed. And if Will found out…” She closed her eyes, then opened them to stare at Jonathan, trying to discern his true motivation. He held her gaze evenly.
Why did her gut tell her to trust him when she had no reason to believe she should? “We must take extreme measures to ensure that Will doesn’t hear about this. That no one does.” She studied him. “Do you agree?”
He responded quietly. “The rest of the world can rot, as far as I’m concerned, but as for Langley…” He let the word trail off, grimacing a little as he shook his head. “We’ll settle the problem of him later. However, if you don’t wish for him to hear about us chasing after your sister, then I’ll do whatever I can to prevent it, Serena.”
“Stop calling me Serena.”
“No.”
“I’m not Serena anymore,” she pushed out. “I’m Meg now. I have to be.”
“But you’re not.”
It was hopeless. She hated the idea of traveling with Jonathan. Of spending time with him. But he was the one person who understood, who could help her save her sister.
“We’ll leave right away. Tonight. But I must inform Jane.”
His brow furrowed. “Are you certain you wish to confide in her?”
“You don’t trust your own cousin?”
He tilted his head. “I trust her. But can you?”
“Yes,” she said firmly. “I can’t just vanish. She is my friend. She’ll be of assistance in explaining this to my aunt and to Will. Without Jane’s help, I might as well give it all up and reserve passage for Phoebe and me on the next ship to the West Indies.”
He reached down, taking her hand and holding it between both of his own. Heat transferred from his palm to hers. “I’m going to help you. Trust me, Serena. I’ll do whatever I can.”
Facial hair darkened the curve of his jaw. Long ago, she had once held his jaw cupped in both her hands and stared into his eyes for several long moments. Just stared at him, drinking him in. His jawbone had melded against her, the beginnings of a beard rasped her skin, and she had the feeling of something very powerful, something hardly contained, lying beneath her hand. She’d felt euphoric, because he had made her believe that she could rein that power, bring it into herself.
But in the end, he had misled her. Just as he had likely misled countless others.
She jerked her gaze away from him, hearing a noise, then realizing it was herself, sighing. “I know about you,” she murmured. “I know everything.”
Jonathan looked up to the ceiling as if begging for holy deliverance. Then, very slowly, he lowered his chin and met her eyes. “My past—the past six years, in any case—is irrelevant.”
She winced. She really didn’t want to talk about this—not right now. She had to think of Phoebe. “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have said anything. You owe me no explanation. You had no connection to me at the time.”
“I thought you were dead.”
She hadn’t expected his loyalty in the past six years. She’d expected him to have married some high-and-mighty lady and have a brood of little lordly Jonathans by now. Truly, she had. Then why was it that on top of her disgust at his despicable behavior, she felt such bitter jealousy when she thought of him with all those other women?
She shook her head. “I—we can’t talk about this right now. I must go fetch Jane.”
She turned her back on him and hurried out of the parlor, where she found Jane waiting for them in the entry hall.
“Jane?” Serena asked, her whisper sounding loud in the nighttime hush of the household.
Jane turned toward her, frowning. “Is everything all right?”
“I need to speak to you about something. Would you mind joining Lord Stratford and me in the parlor?”
Worry lines creased Jane’s forehead. “Of course, Meg.”
Serena followed her friend into the parlor, praying that the three of them would be able to devise a good excuse for her and Phoebe’s disappearance for the next several days.
Jonathan sat in Jane’s parlor, listening in silence as his cousin and Serena planned the trip north. As Serena had predicted, Jane was more than helpful. He’d known Jane since they were both in swaddling clothes, and he’d hadn’t seen this caring, protective side of her for many years. Yet here she was, devising elaborate lies to tell Langley and Serena’s relatives about her whereabouts.
His cousin and Serena had become good friends, for certain. But even Jane didn’t know Serena’s true identity. He felt an odd kind of satisfaction in that. He was the only one outside of her immediate family who knew. He was one of the privileged few.
Jane hardly looked at him, and he was glad for that. Finally, though, when Serena went upstairs to dress and gather a few items for their journey, his cousin turned to him, dark scarlet dashes highlighting her cheeks.
“If you dare compromise that woman in any way, I’ll have your hide,” she snapped as soon as Serena had closed the door.
He didn’t doubt her. Still, he managed to look affronted. “What?”
“I know what you’re about, Stratford. I’ve watched you every time I’ve been in the same room with the two of you over the past several weeks. I don’t like the way you look at her.”
He almost laughed. How little she understood. “Meg is mature and confident enough to make her own decisions,” he said, keeping his voice mild.
“Don’t you dare.”
He shook his head. This was a useless conversation. “There is no subterfuge here, cousin. She needs my help to find her sister. There’s nothing beyond that.”
Of course he was lying. There was so much more.
“I don’t believe you.” Jane crossed her arms over her chest as she glared at him. She reminded him of a blond panther, sleek and dangerous, and ready to pounce. She had bared her claws and pounced on him once or twice in their childhood, and he bore the scratch marks to prove it. He didn’t wish to repeat the experience tonight.
“You’ve developed quite a strong friendship with Miss Donovan in a very short amount of time,” he observed.
“I like her.”
That was enough, he supposed. Jane was discriminate in choosing her friends, but once she chose someone for an ally, that was all that was required to form a powerful bond.
“Don’t stare at me like that,” he said. “You know as well as I do that Meg is perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”
“Don’t do it, Stratford.”
He looked away.
“She is engaged to Captain Langley, and he is a good man. If you compromise that—” Jane faltered, then stiffened her spine and continued. “Surely, you wouldn’t. I’ve told her that you’ve been improving, and I believe that. Even four years ago, in the midst of all that debauchery, you would not have been so low. You wouldn’t have dared do such a thing after what you did to her twin.”
Ah, but would he have? She was her twin, after all.
No. He couldn’t. He couldn’t betray Langley. After Serena’s “death,” Langley had proved that he was one of Jonathan’s very few true friends, and he couldn’t destroy that—not now.
Half an hour later, Jonathan and Serena were northward bound in a borrowed carriage. Jane would remain in Bath for the duration of their planned stay and then stay as long as necessary either for Serena to return with Phoebe or until she had heard otherwise from them. Serena had supplied letters for her aunt and Langley. She’d written to them that since Phoebe had arrived, they’d decided to extend their stay so that Phoebe could experience all the pleasures of Bath.
Jonathan and Serena traveled out of the town in relative silence, but he watched her covertly. She rested her chin on her palm and stared out the window into the graying dawn.
His heart still pounded in her proximity. That part of him continued to pulse in awe that she was alive, whispering her name, a syllable with every slow, heavy beat: Serena. Serena. Serena.
He’d liked Meg, and her loss was devastating for many reasons. But it was Serena he’d loved. Serena he’d wanted. Serena he’d mourned all these years.
And it was Serena he’d turned away from. Hurt beyond measure. It was her whose reputation he’d left in tatters. It was her whose life he’d ruined, and it was probably ultimately because of him that she’d been forced to perform this strange switch of identity.
