Chapter Three
“Right,” said Jessica’s father heavily. “I’m going to need you to go through it one more time.”
The strangest thing was happening, and Jessica could hardly believe it. Her family was all seated around the breakfast table and they were all looking at her. Moreover, they were all waiting for her to speak.
Well, not the whole family. Her Uncle William had, after grudgingly inviting her newly betrothed to stay the night, suggested that his brother Frederick—her father—might like to have the small eastern breakfast room the next day to ‘talk things over.’
Jessica had not been there for that part of the conversation. After Mr. Blakley, her new betrothed, had marched them back to the picnic and announced she had accepted him, she had fled to her bedchamber and refused to come down for dinner.
Which, in hindsight, had probably instigated more questions than it had answered.
And now here she was, having to face her mother, her father, her three sisters, and her brother.
All of whom looked…shocked.
It was a little insulting, to tell the truth.
“There’s nothing to tell,” Jessica said quietly, sipping her chamomile tea and wondering just how quickly she could escape. “Mr. Blakley has proposed. I have accepted.”
Her father stared, tugging a hand through his hair as though that would help. Then he turned to his wife with a lost expression.
Jessica almost smiled as her mother patted her father gently on the arm then turned to her eldest daughter. Her mother always thought there was an easy way out.
“Jessica,” the Viscountess Pernrith said calmly. “What your father means is, we did not know that you and Mr. Blakley had formed an attachment.”
Ah. Yes. Right.
It was not in her nature to keep secrets. There had never been any secrets to keep, when you were the wallflower of the family and you were never invited anywhere interesting.
No one whispered secrets to Jessica. No one took her into their confidence.
Her sister Irene might have been her closest friend, had not her acquaintanceship with young Lord Wilfred—now the Duke of Aynor—many years ago blossomed into a deep friendship.
Her two other sisters, Theodora and Gwendoline, were close to each other, and their brother, Michael, was a law unto himself.
So Jessica had never kept secrets—had never had anything that anyone particularly wanted to know.
And now she had to explain why a gentleman none of the family had ever heard of had ridden up to Stanphrey Lacey, uninvited, asked for her as if he did not recognize her, proposed marriage to her…and been accepted.
Jessica took another sip of tea as the weight of her family’s gazes rested heavily on her.
“What I mean to say,” her mother continued into the awkward silence, “is that I was not aware that you had ever met this man, this Mr. Blakley, before.”
Oh, this was not going to be pleasant. “I had not,” Jessica said quietly.
Her family reacted precisely as she could have predicted. Gwen and Teddy immediately rolled their eyes and started talking at the other end of the table, their older sister’s marital adventures clearly not interesting.
Her brother, gangly and still growing into those long legs, snorted and stood, adjusting his lapels. “Well, congratulations, sister. Now I must be going. Cousin Leopold and Cousin Lucy are going hunting again and I don’t want to miss out on the fine weather.”
“You sit here, son. You’ll be the head of this family one day, so you need to be aware of how a viscount must act in situations like this—”
Jessica watched as her brother soundly ignored their father, striding out of the room as a footman scrambled to open and close the door behind the future viscount in question.
Her parents exchanged a look, and just for a moment, Jessica was given a reprieve.
A reprieve that gave her time to think about… Well. About Mr. Blakley. The man had proposed marriage and appeared to mean it. This family of his, she had never heard of them before. Why did he want to improve their fortunes? Why on earth would he have chosen her?
Said reprieve did not last long.
“Jessica,” her mother said firmly, fixing her with that look that told Jessica she was not going to escape this conversation, much as she might wish it. “Gentlemen do not generally travel forty miles on horseback to propose matrimony to a woman they have never met.”
And yet he had.
She could not understand it, either. The whole thing made no sense to her, and yet it did not appear that it needed to. Mr. Blakley wished to marry her. She wished to marry him.
Oh, it was foolish of her—Jessica knew it, but she had said yes now and there was no point in taking it back.
Besides, this would undoubtedly be the best offer she would ever receive.
She was under no illusions; as a wallflower, there was little she could offer a gentleman in way of entertainment or charm.
She was not beautiful. She had a dowry, yes, but as part of the lowest branch of the Chance family—her father’s illegitimacy still a stain, even though no one in the family ever mentioned it—it was nothing compared to that of her cousins’ wealth.
Her cousins, who had beauty and wealth and charm aplenty.
Even her sisters, with similar prospects, offered more than she did.
Tradition held the eldest daughter ought to secure a match before her younger sisters, but the Chance family was known for not always following tradition.
No one would have objected to her younger sisters marrying before her.
Mr. Blakley was the first person to ever even notice her. He had offered marriage. She may not receive another offer. She had accepted.
She swallowed. He was handsome, too… But it had been a practical decision regardless.
It was not acceptable in her mother’s eyes. The viscountess was fixing her with a stern glare. “Jessica.”
“Yes, Mama,” she said quietly.
“Jessica, you have just agreed to marry a man whom, I believe, you have never met before.”
It took all of Jessica’s strength to lift her eyes to her mother, but she managed it. “Yes, Mama.”
“Why?” asked her father quietly.
For some reason, Jessica found herself blinking back tears.
Because I am always forgotten in this family, she wanted to say but could not bring herself to.
Because I am a wallflower. Because I’m shy.
Because no man has ever spoken three words to me other than that great-nephew of Lady Romeril, and he only did so as a favor to his aunt. And he thought I was Irene.
Because there is something about this Mr. Blakley, was another answer she could absolutely not give.
Because I am determined to make him fall in love with me.
“You know that your Uncle William has invited your Mr. Blakley to stay.”
Her father’s words cut through her thoughts and Jessica almost dropped her teacup.
“‘Stay’?” she said, lungs tightening.
No. No, Mr. Blakley could stay overnight, to be sure—it would have been cruel and most unmannered to send the man back to London on his horse the same day he’d arrived.
But to invite him to stay…to allow him to become part of the Chance house party…to face that man every day while she was here at Stanphrey Lacey…
She intended to make him fall in love with her after they had been married.
That way, if she was not successful… Well, he would not be able to do anything about it.
If he stayed here, and he got to know her before the wedding, and he realized what a complete bore she was…
True, it was the lady’s prerogative, not the gentleman’s, to end an engagement, but that was a suggestion, really, not a law.
And another thought struck her mind like a weight. If she thought seeing him here at Stanphrey Lacey every day was too much—what was she going to do when they were wed?
It appeared her mother might have been having the same thought. “If you do not want him to stay for the rest of the three weeks, then perhaps you should not marry him, dear.”
“No, I think it is an excellent idea,” Jessica said as calmly as she could manage. Which was not very. “I-I think I shall retire upstairs, however, find a book, terrible headache, good morning.”
“Jessica!”
She did not heed her mother’s call. Already making it to the door at a rapid pace, Jessica desperately attempted to think what she would do next.
Hide.
Yes, that was it. It was often the wallflower’s first instinct, and there was no better reason than a surprise future husband.
Besides, this was Stanphrey Lacey; there would be a great number of places where she could hide where no one would even think to look.
She had found them over the years of coming here every summer, the sorts of places that not even a servant frequented.
A small smile had crept over Jessica’s face by the time she’d stepped into the corridor and started toward the east wing. Yes, she would hide. Give herself some time, help her to think about—
“There you are,” came a voice that was both unfamiliar, and all too recognizable.
Mr. Blakley.
It was all Jessica could do not to tip over, her knees shaking and her ankles somehow entirely useless.
Not just because he was handsome. And he was handsome; somehow in the intervening hours, Jessica had forgotten quite how handsome he was. That quizzical brow, those sparkling eyes, the sharp edge of his jaw…
No, it was because he was here. She hadn’t dreamed him. He really did exist. He really had ridden up to her family’s estate and asked her to marry him.
And she had said yes.
“Are you quite well, Miss Chance?” Mr. Blakley inquired, his eyebrows drawing together in a look of genuine concern. “Would you like to sit down?”
Sit down, fall down—not that she should be horizontal anywhere near this man. He oozed charm in a way that Jessica could not describe and had never seen outside a novel before.
Real men do not look like that.
“Here, take my arm,” said Mr. Blakley without hesitation.