Page 30 of Three Weeks with a Princess
“You’ve forgotten what it was like,” she said. “You were able to escape to school and then to the army, so you didn’t have to live with it as your sister and I did. The humiliations your father inflicted. The mistresses I turned a blind eye to.” Her hands fisted into her skirts. “Your father spent so much on them, giving them jewels and fine clothes while I struggled to pay the bills. And the money he squandered on horses, the gambling . . .” Her voice quavered before she stopped, trying to regain her self-control.
Jack’s heart ached for her. He’d loved his father—they all had, including his mother. Lord John had been a handsome, witty man, with an affectionate manner and a gregarious personality that charmed all who knew him. The hell of it was, his father had genuinely loved them back. But he’d loved himself more. Like generations of Easton men preceding him, he’d been too spoiled and arrogant to control his baser appetites.
“I know what you suffered,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more to help you.”
She gave him a sad smile. “You did try, more than once. But nothing ever worked, did it?”
A few times, when it was especially bad, Jack had even come to blows with him. Invariably, his father apologized, shedding tears and promising to reform what he called hissad character. But his resolve only held until another beautiful woman or a cracking great horse crossed his path.
“No, but we weren’t entirely left to our own resources. Uncle Arthur always did what he could. He was very generous to me.”
Her ladylike snort signaled what she thought of that line of argument. His mother had hated the time he’d spent at Stonefell, fearing he would be corrupted by his uncle’s lax morals. She’d hated even more that Uncle Arthur had paid for his commission in the Horse Guards because she’d lost her staunchest ally in the fight against her husband’s reckless ways.
“Yes, and for you to pursue your dream,” his mother said, “Anne and I were forced to make many sacrifices.”
“I understand that, and I will do everything in my power to secure our family’s future and ensure that you never have to suffer again.”
“I’m sure that is your intention, but such is not the case. In fact, I think you are in danger of making the same mistake your uncle did—a mistake that will destroy everything I have fought to achieve for you and this family.”
Jack stared at her silently until clarity dawned. “You think I’m having an affair with Lia? That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” she asked in a haughty voice.
“You know it is.”
“Regardless of what I think, others might not find it so.”
“Others can mind their own damn business. I will not apologize for helping one of my oldest friends.”
His mother rose hastily to her feet. “Jack, youmustmake a good marriage. What respectable girl would wish to betroth herself to man openly involved with an actress, especially one with that particular name? No young woman of breeding, nor her parents, would even contemplate it.”
“For the last time, I am not involved with Lia,” he gritted out. “And she’s not an actress.”
His mother waved her arms. “Jack, it only matters what people think. And theywillthink you are just like your father—a rakehell of the first order. Someone who cares only for his own animal appetites.”
Disbelief and anger surged through him. “I am nothing like my father—or my uncle, for that matter. You know that.”
“Then give up this foolish notion that you owe anything to this creature or her family,” she pleaded. “She’s at her level and you are at yours. They cannot and will not ever meet.”
“Her name is Lia,” Jack said quietly. “And she’s a kind and decent young woman who’s never done anything to wrong any of us.”
“I know her name,” his mother said bitterly. “It’s Kincaid. And like every woman in that family, she wrongs us by her very existence. For God’s sake, let us be done with them before they ruin us yet again.”
She turned on her heel and swept from the room.
Chapter Seven
“Stand still, Amy,” Lia said around the pin in her mouth, “or I might stick you.”
The dancer looked over her shoulder, her eyes bright with laughter. “You’ve already done that once, and right in my arse, too. If you keep poking holes in me I might spring a leak.”
Lia pulled the pin from between her teeth and carefully inserted it along the back seam of the girl’s bodice. “That’s because you wriggle around like a fish on a hook. I can’t get you to stand still for a minute.”
“I’m a dancer, love. That’s what we do—we move.”
“Well, don’t move while I’m checking the fit or this seam will be crooked.” Lia fiddled with her pins some more, then gave a satisfied nod. “That should do it. Now step back and let me look at you.”
Amy obediently retreated to the center of the Pan Theater’s green room, which doubled as a dressing and fitting room before performances. The graceful girl spun, spreading her arms wide in a theatrical pose. She was tall and shapely, with a doelike gaze and a sensual mouth that belied her youthful, almost innocent air.
