Chapter 16
Algenon spun where he stood. “Good heavens, Father. Are you trying to bring the whole house down on us?” He placed the quill in the holder and pretended to straighten the rest of the papers.
“Do not play dumb with me.” Heavy footfalls crossed the room. “It is time you put away all this childishness and offer for Miss Weston. The contracts are all drawn up, all that is left is for you to sign them.”
Algenon shifted the note he’d been writing under the stack of unused paper and began folding his missive to John. “I hardly know her, Father.”
“That is of no difference to me. I hardly knew your mother when we married and we got on just fine.”
Algenon’s jaw tightened. “Yes, but you had a choice whether or not to enter into your marriage.”
His father slammed a hand down on the paper Algenon was meticulously folding. “You should not speak of things you know little about.”
Algenon’s chest burned with indignation.
“And whose fault is that? You never speak about her; never tell me stories other than that you met at a house party in Westmorland. It’s like she never existed, other than to complain that she died with what you believe would have been your precious second son. ”
All the angry words he’d suppressed over the years tore at his throat, begging him to let them out.
His father’s face flamed bright red, his eyes bulging. “What use would it be to tell someone as impulsive and undisciplined as you? Knowing your heedless nature, you’d take anything I might tell you as permission to marry a stranger just for the sport of it. Just like—”
Algenon yanked the paper out from under his father’s hand and Lord Roberts’s mouth snapped shut.
Hurt at his father’s mistrust gave way to confusion over what he’d revealed, as Algenon addressed the letter. “You are making no sense. According to family records, you married Mother four weeks after the house party, and you had three weeks together there. That’s not exactly strangers.”
His father plucked the folded note out of his fingers and inspected the address. Frowning, he passed it to the footman waiting at the door. “Deliver this to Newhurst House.”
Then his attention turned to the writing desk as he searched the surface. “Why are you so stubborn, Roberts? After everything I have done for you, could you not be more grateful?”
Algenon clenched his teeth until his cheeks ached. “Everything you have done?” he bit out. “I have taken charge of most of your estates. I am the one in Parliament learning what this country needs. When you forget to protect your daughters from fortune hunters, it is me they run to.”
Lord Roberts spun to face him, standing so close Algenon felt his hot breath. “How dare you? I am trying to save you from yourself and you continue to run headlong into trouble, just like him!”
Was the man going mad? He made no sense.
“Like who?” Algenon growled.
His father’s eyes widened and he stepped away, his attention again returning to the desk.
Algenon froze. His father knew. Somehow, he knew there was a second letter hidden somewhere. With two fingers, his father took hold of the bottom piece of paper and slid it out of the stack. The words smeared but were still identifiable.
His father glared at him. “Reckless.”
The one muttered word sliced through him. He had been reckless. Desperately reckless, but Javenia had given him hope with her queen of hearts. He’d been able to think of little else.
If she was willing to fight for their freedom, then he could too.
His father shook the paper. “Do you think I missed the way you placed yourself close to Miss Harris at the card party or the way you reached for her under the table?”
“It wasn’t—”
“Silence!” His father held up a hand. “Stay away from the Harris girl. I forbid it. No more of this silent flirting, no dancing”—he shook the letter in the air— “And absolutely no corresponding. One more misstep and I will announce Miss Harris’s downfall to the whole of London if I have to.”
“You’d ruin an innocent woman just to get your way?”
“Nonsense, she’s ruined already. Of course, it’s all her parents’ fault.
If they’d reined in her headstrong ways and minded their own business, maybe it would never have happened.
Lord Upton and his meddling wife deserve such slander.
Heaven knows I’ve been far more generous to them by keeping this secret longer than they deserve. ”
Algenon raised a fist in the air and shook it. “You—”
The door to the sitting room swung open, and Lord Falcross and Miss Weston stepped in.
“There you are,” she said sweetly. Her eyes darted between Algenon and his father. “Are you done with your letter?”
Algenon lowered his fist, but his nostrils still flared. How much had they all heard?
His father raised an eyebrow, challenging him to bring up the subject of Javenia’s pain. Algenon glanced at Miss Weston knowing she’d happily spread rumors about Javenia if she knew any. He suspected her of making up several already.
Swallowing down his anger, he gave a curt nod but said nothing.
“Splendid. Do you mind if I use your writing desk to dash off a note to my uncle?”
If Algenon didn’t know any better, he’d have thought Miss Weston another sweet miss with the way she clasped her hands in front of her in supplication, her big blue eyes and upturned nose creating the picture of innocence. But he was all too aware of what sort of creature stood before him.
He stepped to the side and motioned toward the desk. “It is all yours.” Then he gave a curt bow and turned to the door.
“Roberts, I think it best if we wait here until Lord Rupert arrives.”
Algenon stopped, ice slithering through his veins. First Lord Falcross and now Lord Rupert. Were they to be overrun with all the morally questionable men of London? Lord Rupert was a menace to women. Lord Falcross was a kitten compared to the earl.
“Why are you expecting Lord Rupert?” He’d asked his father the question, but Miss Weston answered.
“Because that is my uncle, silly man. Great uncle, actually. On my mother’s side. He met Miss Roberts at Lady Jersey’s card party and was quite taken with her.”
Algenon speared his father with a look. How could he agree to such an acquaintance?
Lord Rupert was sixty, if not older. He kept company with the Earl of Penbrose’s son, the father of Mr. Fairchild.
The same Mr. Fairchild who had caused the havoc that had nearly ruined Melior.
That information alone should have been a good enough reason for his father to keep Lord Rupert far away from his sister.
It was rumored that the man’s first and second wives had died of unnatural causes. What sort of circle had his father become mixed up in? He’d never kept company with such uncouth men before. No wonder Phillipa was feeling out of sorts.
“I will relay our plans for the day to Phillipa,” Algenon said.
“Very well,” his father said, “but I expect you back here posthaste.”
Algenon nodded, a mistake as pain had started to gather at the base of his neck. Such tension this early in the day did not bode well for him. He’d be in bed with a headache before dinner if he did not find a way to ease his worried mind.
“Oh, and Roberts.”
Algenon paused at the door.
“Remember my instructions.”
The statement was benign to Lord Falcross and Miss Weston, but Algenon heard the threat in his father’s words. Except his father had already set into motion Javenia’s presence at the Tower today by sending the missive without asking what was contained within.
Now he could only hope that John and Susannah could not attend, keeping Javenia away as well. Because if she showed up, Algenon was certain his father would make good on his threats, and there was nothing he could do to save her.
Two hours. Javenia had waited two hours before she could no longer importune on John and Susannah’s good graces. Not that they’d ever send her away, but she’d not been decent company the last hour as her worry over Algenon’s continued absence increased.
John sat in a large wingback chair before the fire reading a book, their breakfast long since over. Susannah, too, held a book in her lap, but her gaze was focused on Javenia’s hand. The hand in constant motion as she drummed the arm of the settee.
“Maybe something has held him up and he will be here as soon as he is able.”
Javenia smiled at Susannah, the gesture growing tighter every time her friend repeated the same sentiments in different words. She had counted at least five such suggestions, and now it was time to come to terms with the truth.
Algenon was not coming.
Either he’d forgotten, or his interest in discussing all the things that had transpired between them had waned.
Maybe he’d decided a change in their friendship wasn’t worth the risk.
She had to admit that losing what they had frightened her too.
If friendship was all that could exist between them, she’d take whatever morsel was left.
But her heart yearned for more. And that yearning demanded she rise to the call for action.
“John, did Algenon request that you arrange a dinner party?”
John slowly lowered the large volume of Gulliver’s Travels. “He did. I told him I would be h-happy to host such an evening next Thursday. Do you know why h-he’s requested I do it instead of s-s-simply having his father arrange one?”
How to respond? They had always avoided speaking of any possible relationship between them. It had kept distance in both their minds and hearts, at least it had for Javenia. What would John say if he knew?
John removed his reading spectacles from his nose and leaned forward. “You may think y-you are h-hiding your thoughts, Javenia, but I am not as oblivious as you think.”
Javenia bit her bottom lip, moisture pooling in her eyes. How she wanted to spill her heart to them, but only Livy knew how desperately she pined over Algenon and only because she’d been weak and allowed her emotions to flow over last season.
Luckily, she was saved from any admission by the entrance of John’s butler.
“A missive from Roberts House, my lord.”
John plucked the paper off the silver salver and returned his spectacles to his nose. After a moment, he glanced up from the paper, a small smile playing at his lips.
“It seems we have been invited to join a small party at the Tower of London.”
Susannah clapped her hands together. “Marvelous. I do love the Tower. I believe the tigers are my favorite.”
The relief that spread through Javenia’s body was so palpable that she slumped forward and allowed a single tear to find its way onto her cheek before hurriedly swiping it away. Algenon had not forgotten her.
The Tower of London was not her first choice for discussing sensitive subjects, but they could wander off at some point. They’d done it often enough before.
Taking a deep breath to clear the tangle of emotions from her mind, Javenia said, “How lovely.” She glanced out the window. The hackney driver returned a quarter hour ago. “What time should I meet you all there?”
“Meet us?” John leaned forward. “We shall take you with us.”
Javenia shook her head and waved a hand at her simple morning dress. “I need to return home and change for such an outing and my hackney driver has already arrived. Besides, my mother will worry if she does not know where I will be.”
“We could pick you up in an hour,” Susannah suggested.
Javenia rose from her seat and the others followed suit. It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse, but she stopped. Why was she reluctant to accept the ride? Was she letting her impetuous independent nature get in the way?
“Very well,” she finally said. “I shall expect you in an hour.”