Page 95 of Three Weeks with a Princess
“I’m sure my grandmother wouldn’t have been pleased either. She wanted to escape the scandal of her former life—for my sake, as well as hers. That’s why she was so eager to retire to Stonefell and fade into obscurity.”
Lia wasn’t surprised Granny had never mentioned this nasty little chapter in the family’s history. It would have been ugly and embarrassing for both the Eastons and the Kincaids.
“My uncle insisted the affair never be mentioned by any of the parties involved,” Anne said. “Uncle Arthur even threatened to cut off my father’s income if he so much as breathed a word, much less ever took up with your mother again.”
“If no one was ever to speak of it, how did you find out?” Lia asked, putting her glass down on the table.
“A few years after it occurred, I overheard my parents fighting over the fact that Uncle Arthur wanted Jack to spend his school holidays with him at Stonefell. My mother wanted Jack at home with her. She feared exposure to your grandmother would be morally harmful, given . . .” Anne hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “The past history with the Kincaids. My father told her that her reaction was overwrought, and that he had no intention of giving in to her ridiculous fears.”
Lia felt sick to her stomach. “How awful for her.”
“Afterward, I heard her weeping in her room. When I went to console her, she made me swear on the family Bible that I would never breathe a word about the affair to Jack.” She shook her head. “Believe me, I have often regretted making that vow.”
“But telling Jack would have engaged his sympathy, would it not? He’s very close to her.”
“You must understand that my mother’s dignity had been stripped away over the years and she couldn’t abide the notion that Jack might pity her. Or that he would know the full extent of her humiliation at our father’s hands.” Anne gave Lia a sad smile. “And Mother didn’t want Jack to have to choose between his parents. I think she feared he would choose Papa over her, which would have been devastating.”
“Jack is nothing like his father,” Lia said quietly. “Surely Lady John realizes that.”
“Rationally, she does. But her heart is still afraid—even more so now.”
“Because of me.” It was hard for Lia to speak calmly, given the horrible, heavy lump in the center of her chest.
When Anne nodded, Lia sighed. “What is it you wish me to do, my lady? Should I tell Jack about this, or simply make it clear that I can have no relationship with him beyond casual friendship?”
Surprisingly, Anne shook her head. “My dear, that is not for me to decide. As I told Jack, your lives are your own to do with as you wish. I know how important you are to him and I have no desire to stand in the way of his happiness—if, in fact, being with you would make him happy. But I thought you should know the full extent of the challenges facing you, including the social and financial consequences.” Her brows arched in a knowing look. “And aside from whatever form of relationship that might be between you.”
Lia mentally winced. It would appear Jack had not expressly told his sister that he’d made her an offer of marriage, which suggested a degree of hesitancy on his part. She didn’t blame him. He’d have to be a complete dolt to think he could marry her without significant repercussions.
“I understand,” she said, “and I thank you for being so frank with me. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you.”
Anne gave her a wry smile, once again displaying the easy charm she shared with her brother. Lia’s heart was full of regret at the lost opportunity of friendship as the girls they’d been or the women they’d become.
“No, it wasn’t,” said Anne. “But I thought you deserved to know the truth, as sorry as I was to have to tell you.”
“It’s a shock, I admit. But no blame could possibly attach to you or to your mother.”
Anne fleetingly reached out a hand, then pulled it back to her lap. “You’re very generous, Lia. I wish—” She broke off and shook her head.
“You’re not to worry,” Lia said. “I know exactly what to do.”
A bleak certainty had settled over her. Someone had to atone for all the damage to the Easton family, especially to the women. And that someone was going to be Lia.
* * *
After unceremoniously dumping Gillian on her husband, Jack stalked toward the river, where his sister and Lia sat near a pair of large oaks. A stranger would find it a charming scene—two pretty young ladies dressed in pastel summer gowns and frilly, stylish hats, drinking lemonade and chatting in the dappled sunlight. It couldn’t possibly be more genteel.
And yet Jack knew better. The carefully blank look on Lia’s face signaled distress. Even though Anne had said she’d support whatever decision he made about Lia, she’d told him in no uncertain terms that he’d be a lunatic to throw away his life by marrying her. At that point, he’d bluntly told Anne to mind her own business or risk facing his wrath. That threat had worked as well as one could expect—which was to say not at all. His sister was just as stubborn as he was, a trait inherited from their mother.
Because he wouldn’t have put it past Anne to call on Lia directly under the guise of making an apology, he’d finally agreed to allow her to come with him today. By being close by, he could ameliorate whatever damage resulted from the confrontation as best he could.
His sister was a kind and tolerant woman, but she was also fiercely loyal to their mother and understood better than anyone how fraught all their lives would become if Jack took Lia as his bride. Unfortunately, he hadn’t yet come up with any good way to placate his mother. Strictly speaking, there were no benefits to marrying Lia—at least of a material or social nature.
No, the benefits were more ephemeral but even more valuable. Lia’s calm, clear-eyed understanding and her cheerful support for the challenges that faced him were blessings probably only he could see.
As for telling his mother that he desired Lia with a passion that now kept him awake at night . . . well, the old girl would be more inclined to take down a set of hunting pistols from the wall and shoot him if he dared make that argument.
When he reached them, the ladies glanced up, surprised. They’d been so engrossed that they’d failed to note his approach.
