Page 104 of The Art of Sinning
“But Edwin—”
“She lives in Spitalfields with her new... paramour,” he said. “It won’t be a fit place for a lady.”
“You’ll tell me everything that happens, won’t you?”
“Of course,” Jeremy said with a tender smile. “I’ll give you a complete report.”
“Are you going there straightaway, as soon as we arrive in London?”
“I must stop in at my cousin’s to speak to my mother and sister,” Jeremy said. “I promised Amanda I would do so first thing. So Blakeborough and I will leave you at your town house, and then go on to Zoe’s.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “I should like to meet your mother. And it makes sense that I be there for the announcement of our engagement.”
Jeremy’s smile grew forced. “Of course.”
“Do you not want me to meet her?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Edwin cut in. “You have to meet his mother. I’m sure he’s just nervous about it, eh, Keane?”
“Yes.”
His short response told her that whatever had transpired between him and his sister had not been happy. More than ever, Yvette was determined to find out the circumstances of the rift, though she was also apprehensive. What if his mother was a harridan? What if she didn’t like her son’s new betrothed?
Yvette stared out the window and tried not to worry. The little he’d said about his mother didn’t give her much to go on. Her imagination conjured up all sorts of horrible possibilities—that his mother didn’t fancy English ladies, that his family were against the aristocracy in general. By the time they reached the Keane town house, Yvette was a bundle of nerves.
So she was caught entirely off guard when a tiny, birdlike woman with graying auburn hair came tripping down the steps to greet them, wreathed in smiles.
“Jeremy!” she cried. “My dear boy!”
As he caught her up in a hug, a strange mix of affection and worry suffused his features. “I’m so glad you’re here, Mother.”
The sentiment sounded genuine, which perplexed Yvette even more. Was he at odds with his family or not?
At the moment, she would say “not,” since his eyes misted over as he squeezed his mother tight. It was a very sweet scene. Even Mr. Bonnaud, who’d come out to join them, wore a smile, and Miss Keane, who stood up the steps a short distance, was wiping her eyes.
It dawned on Yvette how long eight months must have felt like to Jeremy’s family. She couldn’t imagine being away from Edwin for so long. It had been hard enough to cut Samuel from her life.
Unlike Jeremy’s sister yesterday, his mother didn’t chide him when he finally released her. She just patted his cheek fondly, then pulled back to look over Yvette and Edwin, who’d instinctively drawn nearer each other.
“And this must be Lord Blakeborough and his sister.” Mrs. Keane’s blue eyes were keen and quick as she stared at them. “Amanda told me all about you both, about how courteous you were to her yesterday. And it’s most kind of you, my lord, to hire my son to paint for you.”
The way she spoke of her son’s work as if he were some sort of housepainter made even Mr. Bonnaud blink. Yvette cast a furtive glance at Jeremy, but he merely rolled his eyes. Undoubtedly he was used to his mother’s remarks.
His sister came to her mother’s side. “Mama, he was commissioned to do a portrait of Lady Yvette. It’s rather more important than you make it sound.”
“Oh! A commission, is it? I suppose thatisquite grand.” Her gaze narrowed on her son. “And he only had to travel to England to get it. Fancy that.”
Yvette choked down a laugh. Ah,nowcame the chiding.
“Mama, please,” Miss Keane murmured. “Don’t be rude.”
“Is it rude to ask why my only son is gadding about the world without a word to his mother for months at a time?”
“It isn’t rude,” Jeremy drawled, “but I would prefer that you wait to flay me with your tongue until after I introduce you to my new fiancée.” He reached back to take Yvette’s hand and draw her forward. “Mother, may I present Lady Yvette, the woman who just yesterday afternoon consented to be my wife.”
Though Mr. Bonnaud appeared to take the announcement in stride, Miss Keane and her mother looked utterly shocked. The reactions of the two women worried Yvette until his mother murmured, “Does she know about—”
“Hannah? Yes.”
