Baroness Page 7
“Besides, Bennett is—Not. My. Father!” She wasn’t sure how the argument had escalated so quickly, but her voice reverberated through the room and drew Jinx upright.
Her mother removed the other glove. Folded them together in her hands. Drew in a breath. “No, he’s not. But he’s a better father than Foster ever was.”
Rosie shook her head, refusing to trudge back into the darkness of the years with her abusive father. “Mother, Dashielle is in love with me, and…and if he must approach Bennett, then I will tell him so.”
“Don’t hold your breath, Rosie.”
“You don’t believe he will?”
“I know the type. I even married the type. I fear Dash will push you as far as he can and then find someone more willing. Unless, of course, you’ve already let him—”
“Mother!”
Jinx drew in a breath, her eyes sad. “Dash is only out for Dash, my darling. Do you know why Dashielle is in Paris and not at his father’s bank, learning the business?”
“Because he just finished college and he needs a holiday?”
“Not hardly. Dashielle’s father is settling a rather…seedy affair that Dashielle left in his wake at Harvard. Apparently Dash may be the father of a child recently birthed by a local hussy who worked at a nearby pub.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Perhaps, but it is costing his family’s estate dearly, and according to the whispers, he just may be cut off.”
“Dash might be charming, but he’s no rogue.”
“He’s exactly that, and completely unsuitable for a member of the Worth family.”
“Mother! We are not of the high society set anymore. I hardly think the Worth name has the merit you’d like to claim. Thanks to you.”
Jinx cut her voice to low. “You cannot be so ignorant as to understand why I didn’t love your father. You heard his words, saw the bruises he left. However, trust me when I say that I never intended to disgrace our family name, and I can only hope someday you come to understand that.”
Rosie matched her tone. “I understand that you always loved Bennett, even when you were married to Father.”
“And I was always in love with her,” Bennett said, standing at the door.
He could startle her sometimes, the way he looked like her father, his voice so similar, a calm tenor. Tall and regal, like her father, but Bennett had lighter hair, and eyes that could smile when he wanted to. Still handsome at fifty, he could turn the eye of even her friends. He came in now and settled his hand on her mother’s shoulder. “And you can believe her words, Rosie. Your mother is an honorable woman.” He kissed the top of Jinx’s head. “And she worries about you.”
“And Lillian.” She held up Rosie’s telegram. “It’s time this nonsense came to an end.” Jinx pressed her hand on Bennett’s. “There will be no more meetings with Dashielle Parks. And as for Lillian, clearly, summer in Paris is an abysmal idea for the both of you. I knew I should have hired a chaperone. I simply didn’t expect to be gone so long. Nor, of course, to have my daughter behaving like a flapper in Paris!”
“Mother!”
“Rosie, I promise, I only have your best in mind. Besides—” Jinx looked up at Bennett, a smile on her face. She returned her gaze to Rosie, and the gentleness in her expression left Rosie without words. “I believe I’ve found a suitable man to court you, in Belgium. A duke. Perhaps even a husband. He’ll be here in a few days to meet you.”
Rosie’s hand tightened around the arms of her chair as she heard voices outside. Laughter. Then the sound of a car driving away. Rosie stared at her mother, the blood draining from her face as the parlor doors opened and Lilly appeared, her cheeks flushed.
Lilly froze, her gaze landing on Jinx, Bennett, and finally Rosie. Rosie couldn’t look in her eyes.
“Welcome home, Lillian Joy,” her mother said. “You’re just in time.”
* * * * *
Lilly stood in the parlor, staring at her three keepers, and for a long moment, simply debated turning around and running.
Rennie couldn’t be that far away, could he?
But her legs wouldn’t work. She simply stared at her aunt, something cold sliding through her.
“Hello, Aunt Jinx.” She glanced at her uncle Bennett, and he simply gave her a tight, grim nod.
Her aunt rose, walked over to her. Lilly was as tall as Jinx now, but it didn’t stop her from feeling like an incorrigible child. And to think, just moments ago, she’d considered herself a woman.
She refrained from pressing her fingers against her lips and met her aunt’s kiss, first on one cheek, then the other.
“I’m so glad you’re safe.”
Lilly shot a look at Rosie, who still didn’t meet her eyes. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Lilly.” Jinx patted her hand on Lilly’s cheek, shook her head. “You’re so much like your mother. Sweet and without guile. I hear you’ve met a fella.”
Clearly, Jinx didn’t know her at all, for Lilly sank onto the opposite divan and plotted, even now, how she might escape, track down Rennie, and run.
Her aunt would never let her go to Spain. And Rosie—clearly, she could never trust Rosie again. Lilly drew herself up. “Reynaud. He’s a flyer from Canada. He gives flying lessons.”
“Mmm,” Jinx said as she lowered herself onto the divan. “I’m glad you’ve had your fun and are no worse for wear. But I’m afraid you’ll have to leave a card for your young man, tell him that you are unable to see him further.”
She expected it, but it still felt as if Aunt Jinx had smiled at her then skewered her with a penknife. “But you don’t even know him.”
“I don’t have to. I have only myself to blame. I should have never left you in Rosie’s care. Nor, I see, she in yours.”
Lilly flinched, and for the first time, Rosie’s head came up. See, she hadn’t been lying about her assignment to chaperone, and she tried to communicate that in her glance to Rosie.
Aunt Jinx had cut her hair. In fact, the style made her appear not much older than Lilly. Perhaps this beguiled Lilly to lean forward, to press her case. “There is no harm done here, Aunt Jinx. Just allow him to introduce himself—”
Jinx held up her hand. “Your mother trusted me with your honor this summer, and I know she would be distraught to know of your behavior.”
“I’ve not betrayed—”
“Thankfully your father is already on his way to Paris to fetch you.”
Lilly froze. Oliver?
She couldn’t breathe. She swallowed, managed, “When?”
“I suppose he’ll be here by the end of the week.” Jinx looked away as she spoke. “I was forced to cable your mother, and she agrees that you should leave with him.”
“No.”
Jinx looked up at her. “What?”
“No.” Lilly found her feet. “No, I will not leave Paris. I—I am in love with Reynaud Dupree, and he is with me. I will not leave him!”
Rosie was staring at her. “You’ve only known him for five days.”
“And you, Rosie? How long did you know Dash before you allowed him to corner you on the dance floor, to steal kisses—”
“He did not kiss me on the dance floor!”
But Jinx already looked stricken. “What has been going on here in my absence?”
“Enough to know that we are all leaving Paris as soon as I can tie up my business here,” Bennett said quietly. He turned to Lilly then to Rosie. “There will be no more dancing, no more shopping. We’ll be ready to go by the time Oliver arrives.”
Lilly stared at them, at Rosie, then she turned and drew in a long, calming breath. “I understand. Of course, I’ve been foolish. I will pack my things. I trust your trip went well, Aunt Jinx?”
She didn’t wait for a reply as she turned and shut the door behind her then climbed the stairs.
She’d simply have to get word to Rennie to move up their trip to Spain.
And then she’d have to figure out how to escape.
She’d leave them all, run off to Spain with Rennie.
Rennie loved her. Her words reverberated back to her. I am in love with Reynaud Dupree, and he is with me.
She had to get word to him. They couldn’t imprison her in her room, could they? She went to the window, looked down, measured the distance.
A knock came at the door. She drew in a breath, steadied it. “Enter.”
Lilly had no more words when Rosie stepped into the room, closing the door behind her, her face still ashen. “I…I’m sorry.”
Lilly tightened her jaw against the tears that burned her throat. “It’s no matter. Of course you had to cable your mother—”
“I was angry. And worried. And…well, Lilly, you nearly wrecked everything when you didn’t come home.” Rosie rubbed her hands on her arms, settled on the chaise lounge. She wore a lacy white dress, something fancy, and a boa around her shoulders.
Lilly sank down on the settee opposite her. “You mean I nearly wrecked everything between you and Dash.”
Rosie whisked her hand across her wet cheek. Nodded. “But I fixed it, and I ran home that night and hoped that Pierre hadn’t sent the cable.”
“But it was too late.”
“And now they have forbidden me to see Dash, and my mother has picked out a husband for me. A duke or someone she met in Belgium! He’s coming here to meet me!” She met Lilly’s eyes. “I always feared my mother would arrange my marriage. I’m trapped.”
Lilly stared at her, the tears welling in her eyes, and the ache of their estrangement broke inside her. “No, you’re not. Come with me—to Spain.”
Rosie stared at her, as if not comprehending.
“Rennie and I and Hem and a few others are going to the bullfights in Pamplona. They just started, and—”
“Are you crazy? Spain? With Rennie? You don’t even know him.”
Lilly drew herself up. “Clearly I shouldn’t have said anything.” She got up, but Rosie caught her arm. “Lils, are you sure about him?”
Lilly stared at Rosie’s hand on her arm, heard the texture of concern in her voice, and it conjured up those early days in New York when Rosie had been her only friend.
Rosie still might be her only friend. Outside Rennie.
Lilly sat back on the settee. “Oh, Rosie, if you only knew how he makes me feel. For the first time in my life I don’t feel like…well, like I’m a buffalo in the middle of New York. He understands me, and he wants to be with me. He makes me feel alive. I—I meant what I said.”
“About him being in love with you?”
“About me loving him.” She took Rosie’s hand. “I am going to Spain with him, Rosie. Come with me.”
Rosie looked at their clasped hands. “Do you forgive me, Lils?”
“For telling your mother?”
“For trying to make you be someone you weren’t. I was just…”
“I know. Trying to help me fit in. I forgive you.”
Rosie swung her legs from the chaise, touched her hand to Lilly’s cheek, and shook her head. “I’m not going with you to Spain.”
Lilly closed her eyes.
“But if it’s what you really want, I will help you run away.”
* * * * *
It couldn’t have worked out more perfectly if Rosie had planned it herself. Like fate had drawn it, the idea simply materialized, right there before her, like a gift.
Rosie didn’t believe Lilly’s acquiescence to Jinx’s plans for a moment in the parlor, and knew her cousin had a lie brewing. So, Rosie had listened to her mother gush about the duke she’d dug up, then excused herself to discover Lilly’s secret.
Spain. Rosie slipped out of her lacy dress, tied on a robe, then sat down at her dressing table. She dipped her facial cloth into the cold crème and began to wipe away her makeup.
Of all places to run away…and to see bullfighting? A crass, bloody sport that made a game of killing animals—not to mention the men who were gored. She’d heard Dash and Pem talking about it and declared the entire subject repulsive.
Whoever Rennie might be, he clearly hadn’t the dignified tastes required of a man suitable for Lilly’s breeding. She was the daughter of Esme Price, due to inherit millions.
And this Rennie chap probably knew it.
Rosie finished with her eyes, cleaned them with another towel, then began to wipe the blood-red lipstick from her mouth.
As soon as Lilly suggested Spain, however, Rosie’s own rescue appeared, fully formed, in her head. She’d help Lilly escape…and then betray her to Oliver.
For Lilly’s own good, of course, because even Rosie could see destruction and heartbreak ahead. He’d get Lilly pregnant, and then demand the Price family millions.
She’d be saving Lilly from a disastrous life.
Rosie finished with her lipstick then smoothed the crème over her face and neck, her hands.
She had three days to divert attention off herself and onto Lilly. Three days to convince Lilly of her sincerity and to push her on her journey.
Three days to supplant Lilly’s plans with her own.
Most of all, she had three days to convince Dash that they should elope.
Picking up her brush, she ran it through her hair, thankful that she didn’t have to wrestle with her long tresses anymore. Even her mother had joined chic society. No doubt she’d eventually see that Dash was exactly the man for Rosie.
She dropped her robe over her velvet chair, climbed into her bed, and turned off the light.
The starlight of Paris twinkled against the floor of her room. She lay back into her pillows and pondered how to cajole Dash into marriage.
He just needed some more encouragement, perhaps.
Or…and she drew in a breath at this…Lilly wasn’t the only one with a healthy allowance at stake. She heard her mother’s voice again, the one suggesting that Dash might lose his inheritance.
Forgive me, Red. She closed her eyes, feeling his hands on her back, his mouth against hers. He made her feel beautiful, as if only she could satisfy his hungers. Someday he would love her—maybe he already did.
Dash is only out for Dash, my darling.
No. He cared for her. She’d do whatever it took to keep him.
Her mother might want to cut her off, but she wouldn’t, not after losing Jack. Aside from Finley, Rosie was all she had.
It would work, she knew it.
Mrs. Dashielle Parks.
She was just falling into slumber when she heard a knock, then her door opening.
“Rosie? Are you awake?”
The last person she expected to walk into her room, dressed in her robe and night dress, was her mother. Jinx, too, had wiped off her makeup, and smelled of cold crème as she sat on Rosie’s bed. She reached out in the darkness and ran her hand over Rosie’s short hair.
“Mother?”
She heard Jinx’s breath, and then stilled, not sure what to say when her mother lay down beside her. She tucked her arm over Rosie.
“I missed you,” she said quietly.
“I—I missed you too,” Rosie said, surprised at the truth in it.
Jinx said nothing for a long while. Then, “I was seventeen when I married your father. He was so handsome, and I thought we would be happy. But I wasn’t enough for him. He had a thirst inside him that I couldn’t quench. Nothing could quench it—not his yachts, or his homes, or his power, or the women…even you, I’m afraid. Although I know he loved you.”
Rosie’s eyes burned.
“I’ll never forget the day you were born. He came into the room and picked you up. It was the first time I’d seen him be gentle with anyone in years, even Jack. He stared at you for a long time and then kissed your forehead. Then, without looking at me, he handed you to Amelia and said, ‘This one’s mine.’ I didn’t realize then that he knew—maybe h
e didn’t. Maybe he just meant that you belonged to him and he expected me to take care of you.”
A cold tear pooled in Rosie’s ear.
“I’m still trying to do that, daughter. Because you’re mine too.” Her voice softened. “I’m sorry about Dash. I know you care for him. But please, trust me.”
Rosie tightened her jaw.
“I love you, Rosie. And I’ll do anything to make things right. To fix what I’ve broken.”
She said nothing more, and the silence fell around them, Jinx’s arm growing heavy across Rosie’s waist.
Just as Rosie began to drift off, she heard the soft shudder of an intake of breath. She threaded her hand into her mother’s as she realized…her mother was weeping.
Chapter 5
Lilly felt like a criminal, and drank in the illicit taste of escape as Rennie loaded her valise into the train compartment. Two leather bunks bordered each side of the private room, a table between them. Two more bunks folded up above them to allow seating.
Lilly stood in the doorway, peering out the window at the platform, expecting any moment for Uncle Bennett or even Oliver to show up with the gendarmes to carry her away. Her heart thundered in her chest as she scanned the crowd.
“Are you well, Lilly? You are perfectly ashen.” Presley eased past her into the compartment, wearing a pair of trousers and a tweed vest. She handed Rennie her bag. He stashed it with Lilly’s then turned and smiled.
It calmed the racing in her chest, the churning in her belly.
“She’s just ready for her big adventure.” He stepped up to her, ran his hands down her arms. “I’m so glad you came.”
Lilly wished she’d worn something more daring than her shirtwaist and skirt. She had, however, left behind her Zane Grey book on her writing table.
Presley had pulled out her cigarette case. “Rennie said it was some clandestine escape.” She tapped the end of the cigarette on the case then inserted it into her holder. “The entire escapade sounds very Sir Conan Doyle to me.”
“Indeed, I am amazed we pulled it off,” Rennie said, and took Lilly’s hand, pulling her down onto the seat next to him. Then he reached over to light Presley’s cigarette.