Page 62 of Three Weeks with a Princess
“Not in your mother’s eyes,” she said quietly.
How strange to be defending the woman who had always treated her with contempt and believed her nothing but a whore. Unfortunately, Lady John’s view was now likely shared by most of the Ton.
“My mother is wrong,” he said firmly.
Now he was beginning to look annoyed, which was at least an improvement over grim and hollowed out. It also made it easier for her to say what needed to be said.
“Jack, for too long you’ve been pulled between Granny and me and your real family. Before you inherited the title, there was little you could do about it. But now there is. And you should do what’s best for you and for your good name.”
“I reject that as a false equivalency,” he said stubbornly. “I can be loyal to all of you.”
She pinched the edge of her nose for a second, praying for patience. “No, you cannot, because your family and society will not allow it. It’s tearing you apart and it’s tearing me apart, too. So it has to stop.”
He flinched but recovered quickly. “Sweetheart, don’t you think you’re being a bit melodramatic?”
Her patience finally unraveled. “Splendid, more insults. I may be overly dramatic, Jack Easton, but you are entirely pigheaded. Everything would have been fine if you hadn’t come racing down to London after me instead of attending to your business at Stonefell. You’ve probably left things back there in a complete mess, by the way.”
“Fine? Really?” he said, ignoring her gratuitous shot. “You think that debacle at the Pan wasfine?”
“Perhaps we might resume our seats and chat about this less heatedly,” Dominic interjected. “I do not believe the situation is nearly as dire as it might first appear.”
“That is a capital idea,” Gillian said. She reached out a hand. “Come, Lia, sit back down with me.”
Lia was about to do so when Jack’s fingers wrapped around her wrist. He hauled her back to the chaise and then plunked down beside her, taking Gillian’s seat. He crowded Lia against the upholstered arm, as if protecting her from the others in the room.
“Well, aren’t you the masterful one?” the duchess said, regarding him with an amused air.
Jack simply shrugged and looked stubborn. Clearly, he was going to be difficult to reason with. She’d have to manage things very carefully because her tolerance for any more scenes had evaporated.
He blew out a long, calming breath and finally settled against the back of the chaise. He kept her hand in his lap, stroking it, as if to soothe her. But, in fact, it wound her up, making it harder to think.
“All right, pet?” he murmured.
She managed a nod. He was always trying to take care of her, but one of these days he needed to realize that she had to make her own decisions.
“Good.”
Jack then made a credible attempt at smiling at Dominic, who was regarding them with an expression that sent a frisson down her spine. The magistrate was plotting, moving the various pieces on the gameboard around in his head. Lia was obviously one of those pieces, as was Jack.
“Why don’t you catch me up on what you’ve been discussing?” Jack said. “I’m sure Sir Dominic has some sort of plan, and I have a few ideas I’d like to share, too.”
Gillian had remained standing, calmly regarding Lia and Jack sitting side by side. She didn’t trust the glint in her cousin’s eyes.
“We’ve been talking about Lia’s plan to address her situation,” Gillian said. “Or we were about to before you came in.”
Confound it.
Jack gave Lia a wary look. “And what plan is that?”
Her tongue seemed to freeze to the top of her mouth. “Um, well, I’m still working on the details . . . oh, maybe we should hear what Sir Dominic has to say first.” For some horrible reason, she simply couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
“What is your plan, Lia?” Jack said through clenched teeth.
“She’s going to become a courtesan,” Gillian said brightly. “And I’d wager she’ll become the most popular one in London.”
The stunned silence that followed her unfortunate announcement lasted several long seconds. When the yelling commenced—courtesy of the men, naturally—Lia covered her eyes, wishing she were miles away.
Too bad she hadn’t slipped out the window and down that blasted drainpipe when still she’d had the chance.
