“Yes, of course.” Jem turned to him courteously. “What of it?”
“It was dispatched, milord, to the docks, at the request of—” Words failed the poor man, and he cast about in panic as every eye in the room turned upon him.
“Of whom?” Jem prompted.
“Of—that is to say—” He looked at Lady Payne, who scowled.
“It was notmyidea, Payne,” she said stiffly to Jem, “but when the message came, that housekeeper of yours insisted?—”
She trailed off as a group appeared in the doorway.
“Hallooo, milord,” Mrs. Cadogan called softly. “I was at the wharf just now and found one or two things that will interest you.”
Lucasta, along with everyone else, stared in blatant curiosity. The housekeeper held the hands of two small children whose faces gleamed as if the wind had nipped their cheeks, and whose hoods were pushed back to reveal tufts of tightly curled black hair.
Beside her stood a tall, dark-skinned woman in a cloak spotted with rain. She was blindingly beautiful and looked very weary. A swaddled form in her arms chirped and shifted as if the babe within were kicking to get free.
“Portia?” Jem said incredulously.
“Mama!” Three little bodies flew past Lucasta in a blur, launching themselves at their mother.
“Starria. Tressie. Hannibal.” Portia knelt and held out her arms, staring as if she saw three angels descended from heaven. “Oh, my heavens, you’ve all gotten so big!”
She greeted the children with swift kisses, then rose to face Jem with a steady, watchful gaze. The children, too, stared solemnly.
“Milord,” Portia said in a quiet voice, “I regret to tell you your father is dead. I came to bring you his things and, because—” Her voice caught as if with strong emotion, and for a long moment Jem didn’t move; he looked frozen in shock.
“Then you are the marquess,” Lady Payne whispered. “Jem, you are Arendale now.”
“Your lordship.” With the babe in her arms, Portia made a brief curtsy. The bundled babe squirmed and gurgled. “It was not safe for us,” she said, a note of desperation entering her voice. “I did not know where else to go.”
“You did the right thing,” Jem said firmly, stepping toward her. “You are free here, Portia. It is the law of this land. No one can take you anywhere against your wishes, neither you nor the children.”
“Praise be to God,” Portia whispered, closing her eyes to compose herself as she received this news. The expressions that chased across her face pierced Lucasta’s heart. She could not imagine the horrors and indignities this woman had endured.
“Not in this house.” Lady Payne’s strangled voice came from behind them. “Nothere!In my house?”
Slowly, working to contain his rage, Jem turned to face her. “I think you forget this ismyhouse, Aunt,” he said in a soft, warning tone. “I shall offer shelter to whom I please beneath this roof. My family will always be welcome.” He paused. “ButI understand if circumstances will not permit you to continue residence here.”
Lady Payne turned and fled the room.
“No steel inherspine,” Aunt Cornelia snorted. Hands folded over the golden knob of her walking stick, she watched the unfolding tableau with great attention. “Think she’ll come round?”
“I doubt it,” Bertie said flatly. She had risen as well, but she gave Lucasta a cautious look, as if questioning which of them should assume the role of hostess in Jem’s house. She was his cousin, but Lucasta was to be his wife.
And she, Lucasta realized, was meeting the mother of her husband-to-be’s siblings, who would become her family as well. Three more siblings, more family than she could have dreamed. Lucasta reached out to Portia with both hands.
“Please, come be seated, and take off your wet things. If I am not mistaken, Mrs. Cadogan has rushed off to the kitchen to find us refreshments, and she makes the most heavenly treats. Is it proper for me to call you Portia?” she asked self-consciously. “We have not been introduced.”
“Portia, this is my intended wife, Miss Lucasta Lithwick,” Jem said with great courtesy. “Lucasta, my father’s wife, Portia.”
“Wife,” Portia said softly. She allowed Lucasta to take the babe from her arms, searching her face with large, deep brown eyes. “But we never?—"
“We can present you as his widow,” Lucasta suggested, looking to Jem.
“Hey, now! Present her to me, and you can rehearse.” Aunt Cornelia banged her walking stick on the floor. Lucasta turned with the swaddled babe, feeling more nervous about presenting Portia to her aunt than she had at any point during the concert. Jem had feared exposing his family to the polite world, and now his secret was to lie in the hands of Aunt Cornelia?
But she had kept Patience’s secret for all of Lucasta’s life, and she had made certain it would go no further. Lucasta met Jem’s eyes, and her heart softened at his nod. He had said he would be strong enough to take the risk of exposing his family, and he hadn’t batted an eye at the revelation about her birth. How had she been so lucky to find him?
