Scandalous Miss Brightwells [Book 1-4]

He was very certain by the time he arrived that he’d acted in the only way possible. He’d ascertained that Odette’s father was in tolerable health before he’d left. There’d been no cause to bring her home, nor did his relief stem from the fact that there was consequently no reason to bring forward the wedding?

He realised he’d have been happy to postpone it for as long as possible, yet every moment was one closer to that when he’d walk down the aisle with his joyful bride. And that was what he’d pledged—to make Odette happy when her world was falling apart around her. She’d lost her mother when she’d been a child. Her brother had died of fever the previous year. All that was left to her was her father and when he died, whom d

id she have to rely upon? A disinterested cousin and elderly aunt who played chaperone from time to time?

The mood seemed strangely jovial when he was ushered into the drawing room with its lofty, gilded ceilings and expansive pale green Aubusson carpet. Lady Quamby appeared to have consumed a great deal of champagne; her brother was even more intoxicated. Even Odette seemed oddly affected as she stood up and wended her way a little shakily towards him, although he’d obviously bade her remain seated as he went to her.

“You took your time, Jack.” George was pressing a glass of brandy into his hands. He was very oddly dressed, Jack thought, before he dismissed any thoughts regarding George apart from wondering what he was doing here.

“Jack! Are you pleased to see me?”

It was a very odd question from Odette, Jack thought, narrowing his eyes at her. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair looked a trifle disordered. But then, it had been a long day’s travelling.

“Did you think you had to ask such a question, my dear?” He knew his words sounded stilted, but perhaps that was because he was the only sober member of the party. Yes, he was sure of it.

Odette hooked her arm through his and walked with him to a cluster of chairs a little apart. “Tell me what you thought about during your long, dull journey?” she asked, putting her head close to his, leaning across the small space between their two wing-back armchairs. “Did you think of me, and me alone? Did you wish it wasn’t so long before our wedding? Did you regret having to go back to Quamby House with that child? Oh, do let’s get out of here, Jack. Let’s go for a stroll along the Gallery.”

Jack didn’t know how to answer as she led him up a rear staircase to the old part of the house where they wandered past a collection of old suits of armour and pikes. Odette, however, seemed content enough to do all the talking. She stopped to gaze through the window. “You came into my life just when I needed you, Jack. You were my knight in shining armour. Indeed, you were. And Papa loves you. He loves you like the son he’d lost; I think you know. He was very good to you when you worked for him, wasn’t he?”

“He taught me so much. I credit him with my success; you know that. I owe him everything.”

“And me, Jack. You owe him the care of me.”

Her words sounded slurred. Jack looked at her with concern. He turned her to him, holding her shoulders so he could look into her eyes.

“Kiss me, Jack.” She closed her eyes and offered him her lips, and there was nothing Jack could do but as she asked. But every fibre of his body rebelled against the touch, even as she twined her hands behind his neck to deepen the kiss.

With the greatest effort, he purged his mind of thoughts of Katherine. It was so wrong to compare the intoxication he’d felt only hours before in that forbidden, dreadfully sinful encounter with the lack of enjoyment he was feeling now.

She stepped back, and he forced himself to smile while he berated himself internally for his disloyalty and wicked, unforgivable behaviour.

But he’d atone. He’d spend the rest of his life atoning.

For a long moment, she stared at him, as if reading in his face all the hopes and dreams she harboured for their long union together.

Then she reached up her hand and touched his cheek, her smile one of the sweetest he’d seen. Yes, she was perfect for him. She was.

“Let’s go back now, Jack. After all, we’re not married yet, are we?”

Antoinette reached out her arm to arrest Bertram’s progress and waggled her fingers. “What a thoughtless brother you are. Can’t you see my glass is empty?”

“I think you’ve had more than enough, Antoinette.”

Since Bertram gave an inelegant hiccup at this juncture, Antoinette considered she was within her rights to up her demands, until Bertram wove his way over to the sideboard where Jack was sipping a glass of claret a little distance from George, though neither appeared to have anything to say to the other.

After downing her drink quite quickly, Antoinette felt the need to succumb to the call of nature. There was no one to whom to offer her excuses, so she left the room with no fanfare, sailed up the passage, and then happened to glance left where a small flight of stairs descended to a dim passage that snaked through the darkness to the bowels of the house. The sight that greeted her made her first wonder if her eyes were playing tricks on her, then whether someone had put something in her drink, and finally to wonder if she truly was a sorceress before she realised the need to make as silent a passage past as possible.

“Mother, are you all right?” George asked her as she returned to the drawing room. Jack was now talking to Bertram, and George appeared to have been eyeing the doorway with unusual keenness.

“Of course, darling.” She brushed him off, hardly able to wait until she could tell Bertram the wonderful news.

However, Bertram’s conversation with the other gentlemen appeared to have gained intensity so, unable to stop herself fidgeting, she went to the window and looked out into the darkness.

“It was awfully good of Jack to deliver Diana all the way home. It’s been a long day’s travelling for him.”

Antoinette glanced up to see George at her side, as if he’d come to see what it was she was staring at. Irritated, she waved a hand in the air. “Oh, it’s just the sort of thing Jack would do. He wants to be everybody’s hero.”

“Mother!”