Chapter 16
Sixteen
Jack dined at home, which was unusual enough to make his taciturn butler enquire with a degree of concern whether he was well.
“Perfectly,” replied Jack, with an asperity which was also uncommon. He refilled his glass from the almost empty decanter in the library and took it with him as he left for the dining room. “But I suspect tomorrow morning will be another matter.”
Dalcher replied with only a bow and, knowing his duties to perfection, took the depleted decanter and set off to refill it.
Jack’s cook, who also knew his duty, had provided a feast fit for his master’s rare attention.
Unfortunately for him, Jack’s attention was somewhat absent.
He pushed some items around his plate with a fork, sighed, then pushed the plate away with a scowl, leaning back in his chair as he took a large mouthful of wine.
“She hates being called Min, does she?” he muttered. “Hates it, apparently. Since when? And why the devil not tell me when she’s had twenty years to do so?”
Disgusted to find he was talking to himself, he stood and stalked to the fire, where he leant glowering down at the innocent yellow flame and absently kicking his boot against the edge of the fender. He was mightily glad when Dalcher announced George Simmons.
“I’m remembering why dining alone is a bad idea,” he said as his friend came into the room. “Silence is terribly judgemental company.”
George just smiled. “I tried the Cocoa Tree first, but they’d seen nothing of you today. Thought I’d try here on the off chance, however unlikely it seemed to find you home at this hour. But I must admit, I’m glad—I have news I’d rather share in private.”
“Oh?” Jack gestured for George to sit down at the table. “Help yourself. There’s plenty. Clearly my cook didn’t believe I really was dining alone.”
“Thank you.” George pulled a few dishes towards himself and examined them while Jack returned to his original seat.
But George seemed to have as little appetite as Jack, merely poking at the dishes without taking anything. In fact, Jack thought as he watched the man, he seemed to be brimming with nervous excitement. Clearly his news was of great importance.
“Go on, then,” he said dryly, recognising the symptoms. “Who is she this time? And what makes you believe her?”
George’s face turned pink. He coughed and reached for the wine bottle, checking himself halfway. “Do you mind?”
“Have I ever minded? What’s mine is yours. But pour us both a draught. I see we have some toasts to drink tonight.”
George grinned, though his hand shook a little on the bottle. Not a good sign if he was anticipating Jack’s disapproval. The man just couldn’t help it. He fell for every pretty, smiling face, and never once looked behind it to see the grasping fingers poised to bleed him dry.
“It’s someone you know, actually,” George said, once both their glasses were brimful.
“That’s not generally a recommendation.”
“This is an exception.”
“Go on, then. Amaze me.”
George took a gulp of his wine. “M-Miss Fanshaw.”
Jack’s own glass paused halfway to his mouth. He put it slowly back down. “Miss Fanshaw?”
“Y-yes. You were right, you see,” George stammered, blushing furiously now, “about me developing a tendre for her. Indeed it’s more than that. I—”
“Miss Lucy Fanshaw,” Jack repeated more loudly.
“Y-yes…”
“And you have a liking for her?”
George nodded, a gleam of sweat on his reddened face. He took another gulp of wine. “As I said, more than a mere liking, Jack.”
Jack watched him for a long moment. “How much more?”
“Well I… I’ve offered for her. And she’s accepted me.”
Jack kept staring at his friend, aware of nothing but an odd ringing sound in his ears. He stood up suddenly, making George flinch, but he moved in the opposite direction, back towards the fire.
“It’s sudden, I know,” George said quickly, “and perhaps we ought to have been better acquainted, but when you know, you know—don’t you?”
“When? When did this happen?”
“Just now. You’re the first to know.”
“So that is what you were doing when I left you there! And that is why she…” He thought back over their conversation in the carriage. The way she’d reacted. A grim flush closed hot fingers around his throat.
“You yourself said we would suit, Jack, don’t you remember?”
“You’ve just met. You don’t know her at all.”
“But I know enough. And I look forward to getting to know her very much better.”
Jack’s hand tightened on the mantelpiece.
“You as good as gave us your blessing,” continued George brightly as Jack stared down into the fire. “Indeed, it was that which put the thought into my head. And then, once Lucy—you don’t mind if I call her Lucy, do you? She asked me to, so very sweetly—”
“Mind!” cried Jack with a rather wild lift of his hand. “Why on earth would I ever mind?”
“She said it was what she far preferred to be called.”
“Did she now!”
“It’s good of you, Jack,” George prattled on. “I do declare that having your approval is the icing which makes this match all the more sweet. I knew you’d be happy for us. Your two closest friends, becoming as close as man and woman can be…”
Jack strode back to the table and grabbed his glass so forcefully a little spilt. He drank a mouthful, smiling—he was sure he was smiling. Some manner of expression was straining his face at least. “Happy! Why, yes, I am very happy!”
“I am glad. And we have you to thank! Because as I was just saying, when Lucy told me of the rumour that’s been spread about her fortune and your very just concerns for her wellbeing, it became obvious to me what must be done.
That urge to protect her acted upon my already warm sentiments towards her and…
well, as you see, it has produced this happy event! ”
“I said I would marry her. Did she not happen to mention that?”
“She did. Of course she did. Lucy keeps no secrets from me now. But as she explained, she could only ever consent to an engagement with a man who really wanted to marry her.”
Jack looked at him for a moment. He drank off the rest of his wine and very carefully set the glass down. He very carefully refilled it.
“I see.”
“So it’s all worked out perfectly. I’ll marry her for real, and in doing so, give her all the protection of my name, my station, and my person.
We’ll get along splendidly, I’m sure. You yourself once told me what an excellent wife she’d make, and I quite agree.
And, in return, it means I’m also safe from all those fortune hunters you’ve so assiduously guarded me from.
” He gave Jack a beatific smile. “Our union sets you free, Jack! You needn’t worry about either of us anymore.
You can continue your life of pleasure with no dreary responsibility to burden you.
Though, of course, we hope you won’t abandon us entirely.
It’d be pleasant to have you visit us every now and again.
When we are happily settled. In the country. With our numerous children.”
Jack moved back to the fireplace. His wine was in his hand, but he set the glass down on the mantelpiece untouched. He didn’t want it anymore.
“I see,” he said again, more quietly this time. “And when is this happy event to take place?”
“Not straightaway. In fact, we’re keeping the engagement secret for a while.
Lucy wishes to write to her aunt first, and I’ll inform my parents.
We don’t need their blessing, but we’d both prefer to have it before we make a public announcement.
I came straight from Miss Sedgewick’s house to tell you—and only you. ”
“She knows, I suppose? Caroline?”
“Yes. And she couldn’t have been more happy! I dare say the two of you will soon be following Lucy and I into our current state of bliss, eh, Jack?” He joined Jack by the fire and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “When you find the right woman, you just know, don’t you? It’s entirely unmissable.”