The Valentine Legacy (Legacy 3)

Mrs. Wyndham stared at him in consternation. There was complete silence in the parlor, with everyone staring at Marcus, who looked as bland as Old Bess’s tapioca pudding. “You didn’t pretend,” she said finally. “That’s not how it’s done. You must pretend and find suitably matching words to cloak your meaning in banality.”

“How inept of me,” Marcus said, and twitched a small piece of lint off his sleeve.

“Yes,” Wilhelmina Wyndham said, leaning toward the earl, “you could have said, for example, that you would be pleased if I were to take a good whiff of this excellent tea.”

Marcus frowned. “No, that’s not quite right yet, ma’am. Ah, I will have to think about it. When I decide, I will tell you and you can give me a critique.”

“I would be delighted to,” Wilhelmina Wyndham said, and patted the earl’s arm. “Such a lovely material this is,” she said, her voice all coy and flirting. “Such a lovely color, that deep blue.”

The Duchess rolled her eyes. Could her wretch of a husband get away with any sin?

James, much enjoying himself, remained silent—at least he had planned to until his dear mother turned her guns on Jessie. She said now, “I am at a loss to determine why your beautiful husband doesn’t leave you. You’re not fit to live.”

“What, ma’am?” Jessie felt her eyes begin to cross. The earl laughed deeply. “Well done, ma’am. Finish it.”

“Certainly, my dear boy. Why, Jessie, I only told the Duchess that she had such wit to give.”

James finally cleared his throat, drawing all attention. “Mother, let me give your thoughts another direction, perhaps a more pleasant one. You are going to be a grandmother come next April.”

Jessie felt the force of her mother-in-law’s shock, then her fury radiating now toward her. “So,” Wilhelmina Wyndham said, pointing her finger at Jessie, “you did seduce my poor son. When he got to England you told him and he had to marry you. I wouldn’t have minded if he had wed Glenda because she’s an ignorant twit and I can control her quite well, both her and her ridiculously inept mother, who was my best friend when we were girls. How Portia birthed an oddity like you I will never know. It must be her husband’s fault. Oliver has always been too sporting by half. Poor Portia writhes with the knowledge that you took poor Glenda’s husband, but she doesn’t have the skill to do anything about it save moan and whine.”

“What would you do, ma’am?” Marcus asked, giving her a look that would vanquish any woman’s defenses.

“Why, I would see that she’s made so miserable that she traveled to Italy and lived the rest of her miserable life in a fishing village.”

“But, ma’am,” Jessie said, rising now, wringing her hands, wondering if she would vomit on her mother-in-law’s shoes, “I don’t speak any Italian.”

“That, miss, is none of my fault. Speak to your mother. She gave you no suitable education. My James speaks fluent French. He even reads their outlandish literature.”

Before murder could be committed or laughter break through, James rose and held out his hand. “Mother, I believe you should be on your way now. You will come to us for dinner another evening. Bid your farewells to Marcus.”

“You continue to improve,” Wilhelmina Wyndham said to the earl. “You may kiss my hand.”

The earl complied.

“As for you,” she said to the Duchess, “I shan’t forget you.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Ah, Thomas, please have my mother’s carriage fetched. Thank you. I will escort you, Mother.”

“It’s your fault,” Wilhelmina Wyndham said to both the Duchess and Jessie, and swept from the room on her son’s arm. Jessie didn’t imagine she’d ever totter, like Glenda. She heard her say to James in the small entranceway, “The earl is such a lovely man. It was she—that girl whose name is ridiculous! Duchess—of all things—it was she who kept the earl from giving us our due. Bring him with you to visit me, dear James. Leave both females here. They’re better off here. Trust me.”

The Duchess, who was studying the fabric on the settee, said, “You know, Jessie, I think we should visit Baltimore tomorrow and see what furnishings are available. But to be fair about it, I suppose we should consult James.”

“Yes,” Jessie said, looking thoughtful. “Knowing James, he’ll have an opinion about everything.” Jessie sighed. “I can’t believe how you treated her, Marcus, yet she lapped it up.”

“I’m irresistible,” Marcus said.

His wife looked at him, a smile playing about her mouth. “I’m sorry, Jessie, but Wilhelmina is a harridan and the most vicious woman I’ve ever met. I appreciate how you, Marcus, protect me from the worst she dishes out. As for James, I noticed he kept his verbal distance until she set her sights on you, Jessie.”

“He does well,” Marcus said. “What else can he do? Toss her out of the window? Drop her off a cliff?” He laughed, rose, and stretched lazily. “I’m off to exercise one of James’s horses.” He kissed his wife and patted Jessie’s cheek. “Relatives are the very devil,” he said, and strolled out of the parlor.

“His mother,” the Duchess said, “dotes on him as well. She adores him. She’s always talking about his innocence, his purity. She’s also decided that we suit each other, which is a vast relief. She spoils the boys shamelessly.”

Jessie sighed deeply. “Can you see Mrs. Wyndham spoiling any offspring of mine shamelessly?”

“Well, perhaps not.”