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The Valentine Legacy (Legacy 3)

Page 93

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“Are you fishing for a compliment, Jessie?”

She gave him a long, thoughtful look. “I know what I am, James.”

“Good. I want my wife to know that what she is first, is mine.”

Jessie wasn’t sure that she knew that at all, but she preferred James’s line of thinking. “What about the house? What about Mother?”

“She is to live in the house until she dies. Then the house belongs to us as well. Which is a problem. Our properties don’t join, so we can’t just pull down fences and combine them.”

“We’ll figure out something,” Jessie said. “Don’t worry, James.”

He knew that look in her eye—all sparkling energy and intelligence—and was pleased. Now if only their babe would stop sending her to her knees in front of the chamber pot.

She said now as she frowned down at her gloved hands, “Will we have money to work on Marathon?”

“Yes. A lot.”

She gave him a fat smile. “Good,” she said, and tucked her arm through his. “Papa asked me what I wanted, and I told him that the Duchess and I were going to fix up the inside of the house and we needed money to do it right. Odd that he didn’t tell me about giving us the farm as well.”

“That’s properly a man’s subject of discussion, Jessie. Your father was right not to mention that to you before he’d discussed it with me. I’m surprised that he even asked you about the money.”

“He told me that I’d earned all of it, since I’d been his best jockey for the past six years. I told him he was right. He kissed me then and hugged me. I love my father very much, James. I don’t ever want him to die. At least for a very long time.”

“How can you be so nice and your mother so tedious?”

She laughed and laughed.

There was no particular pandemonium at Marathon when they returned, which was a relief. There was, however, James’s mother, resplendent in purple silk, and she was seated in the parlor with the earl. The Duchess must have escaped, Jessie thought as she squared her shoulders and walked into the parlor beside James.

“My son,” Wilhelmina Wyndham said, encouraging him to walk across the room to kiss her outstretched hand before she’d held it out for long enough to get a cramp.

“Mother.” He kissed her veined hand. “I’m surprised you’re here. I was coming to see you. Don’t you remember? I told you I would visit you today.”

“I couldn’t wait. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you. I told Ursula that she could wait, that I would come to dine with you this evening. She and Gifford can see you tomorrow.”

Wonderful, just wonderful, Jessie thought, wondering if she would make it through an evening with her mother-in-law without having to leave the room to retch.

>

When the Duchess came into the parlor, looking like the regal countess she was, slender and elegant and beautifully gowned in a pale yellow jonquil day dress, Wilhelmina Wyndham swelled with indignation. “You’re still here? I had prayed you would decamp. I don’t mind that your lovely husband is here, for his only fault is that he had no choice but to marry you. He is an excellent man still despite the fact that you and he took everything that should have belonged to me. But you here as well? I won’t have it. I wish you would die in your sleep.”

Jessie gasped. “What did you say, ma’am?”

“Oh, I just said that I wished the Duchess won’t ever sigh or weep. Life is so uncertain, you know.”

“Exactly so, ma’am,” the Duchess said, and gave her quite a beautiful, serene smile. “Badger wished me to tell you he prayed the food he prepared would give you bile.”

“How dare he! He said what?”

“Why, ma’am, Badger said it was his pleasure to serve you food that would make you smile.”

“You haven’t changed,” Wilhelmina said, lips tight, her powerful bosom heaving beneath the deep purple silk. “You shouldn’t ape your betters, young lady. It doesn’t matter that you’re a countess. You don’t deserve to be. You’re a fortune-hunting adventuress. Everyone knows it, even your poor husband, but he still married you seven years ago.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Marcus said. “Well put, ma’am. However, since I am married to the wench, since I can’t very well boot her into a well, I suppose I must defend her to the best of my meager ability. Thus, ma’am, I would be pleased were you to drop yourself off a cliff.”

“Oh no, surely, no! What did you say, my lord?”

“Me? Oh, I just said I would be pleased if you were to drop yourself off a cliff.”



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