Her Scoundrel, Bad Luck Wedding #7 (Bad Luck Brides trilogy book two) Read online

  His voice gruff, he asked, “Which one are you?”

  “I’m Belle, Uncle Jake.”

  Isabelle. The eight-year-old. How the hell am I going to keep them all straight? He looked for something unique about the girl to help him put face with name. Maybe that dusting of freckles across her nose? “Do your sisters have freckles?”

  She nodded. “It’s a family curse.”

  Defeated, he sighed. “Is there something you needed, Belle?”

  “Yes, sir, Uncle Jake. It’s Miranda. She’s stuck in the chimney.”

  “Again?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Luke glanced down at his navy jacket, pristine white shirt and buff-colored trousers. He sighed once again, more heavily this time. “How long has she been down there?”

  “A while. We didn’t want to bother you, since we know you have an important meeting, so we tried to get her out ourselves, but we didn’t have one bit of luck.”

  Jake closed his eyes. “How many of you are on the roof?”

  “Theresa stayed on the ground with the baby.”

  Thank God for small favors. Amusement gleamed in his guest’s eyes as Jake made his excuses, then took his leave of the drawing room. In the hallway, he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it on a chair as he headed for the servants’ stairs. He’d learned the shortcut to the roof his second day in London, and after one full week in residence and at least a half-dozen trips up the stairs, he could no doubt make the climb blindfolded.

  Better not say that in front of the little hoodlums. They’ll put me to the test.

  Moments later in the attic, Jake yanked off his necktie before stepping out onto the slate roof. There the morning sun beamed down upon him as he paused to remove his boots and socks. Bare feet gave the best purchase on the slippery surface, he’d learned. He padded across the roof to the chimney where another blond girl waited expectantly. She smiled, but didn’t speak.

  He frowned down at her. This was the one out of the group that he recognized. “You’re Caroline.”

  She nodded, but still didn’t speak. The only other person in the carriage with her parents that fateful day, six-year-old Caroline hadn’t uttered a word since the accident.

  “I understand your sister’s been playing chimney sweep again.”

  The girl nodded, then pointed at the chimney.

  Jake winked at her, then called out, “Miranda? Are you all right? You’re not hurt or anything?”

  “I’m fine, Uncle Jake.”

  Miranda was the tall one, Jake recalled. The eleven-year-old. The oldest of his sister’s children. Of his sister’s five children. Four girls and a baby boy. Four orphaned nieces and a toddling nephew—a toddling marquis, rather. With only Jake and a bitter, aging, spinster aunt on their late father’s side to look out for them.

  God help them all.

  Recently well-practiced at extracting children from chimneys, Jake accomplished the task in quick order. When they had all made it safely off the roof and into the attic, Jake leveled his most ferocious glare upon them Three little round, cherubic faces smiled innocently back. Angelic little devils.

  Jake cleared his throat “Please correct me if I’m wrong, but did I not specifically forbid any more gadding about the rooftops? Did I not promise severe punishment should you indulge in such foolishness again?”

  “We’re sorry, Uncle Jake,” the tall, sooty, guilty one— Miranda—said.

  “That’s what you always say.” Jake donned his boots, then brushed at the soot now soiling his shirt and trousers.

  From behind him at the top of the attic stairs another young female voice said, “Uncle Jake? Your friend is here. That Mr. MacRae. He’s in the drawing room, too. I gave him some of the biscuits we made yesterday, and I said you’d be down right after you got out of the chimney.”

  “Thank you, um…” Jake’s gaze darted from the blond, blue-eyed, pink-and-white-ruffle-gowned girl at the top of the stairs to the other blond, blue-eyed, pink- and-white-ruffle-gowned girls in front of him. Ah, no smear of strawberry jam—not Belle. No soot—not Miranda. Baby dribble on her collar. The nine-year-old. “Thank you, Theresa.”

  The four girls beamed at him for having gotten the name right for a change. Sweet, silent Caroline twirled a curl around her finger.

  Jake shook his head in frustrated wonder. Their father had been a carrot top, their mother, olive-skinned and dark-haired. How in the world had that couple produced four—count them, four—blond-haired, blue-eyed girls who look so much alike that Jake, who had a good eye for detail, couldn’t keep them straight? “We need to adopt a color system. One color per girl.”

  “You’re silly, Uncle Jake,” Belle said. Or was she Theresa?

  “No, I’m desperate. I’ll get a seamstress on it right away. Now, where’s the baby?”

  “He’s in his crib in the nursery. He fell asleep.”

  Hallelujah. It was the best news Jake had had all morning. The little terror was a climber, and when it came to getting into trouble, he made his sisters look like pikers. “All right. Here’s what we’re going to do next. I want all of you to go to the nursery and stay there until I call for you. You can draw straws over which one gets to wear pink.”

  “But, Uncle Jake!” voices said in unison.

  “If you behave,” he continued, holding up his hand palm out, “we’ll make that trip to the zoo I promised this afternoon.” The girls started clapping and hopping and cheering, and he raised his voice to be heard over the squeals. “However, if I see so much as a ruffle or a hair ribbon downstairs, we’ll forget about the zoo, and you’ll all be sent to bed with only bread and water for supper. Now git.”

  The girls snickered with laughter as they made their way downstairs, recognizing his threat as nothing more than hot air. Jake knew he failed dismally at discipline, but he was new at it. Up until now, his role in these children’s lives had been limited to gift giving and a visit every year or two. A man couldn’t just switch from indulgent uncle to father with the snap of a finger.

  Or the roll of a carriage.

  Damn. Jake closed his eyes and absorbed the wave of grief before continuing downstairs. Daniel. His parents. Now Penny. Never would he have guessed that he’d be the last one alive. He was the one who’d been living his life on the edge, the one thriving on physical risk and dangerous circumstance. By all that was right, he shouldn’t be the one remaining.

  Find the necklace. Find your family.

  What a crock that had been. He’d found the necklace and waited for his family to turn up. Waited for years. And what happens instead? He loses his family. Loses his sister. Just goes to show, that dream had been nothing more than a nightmare after all.

  A crash from the general direction of the schoolroom jerked him back to the present. He needed to get downstairs. He wanted to hurry and get this over with before the little hoodlums escaped the nursery once again. Judging from past experience, he figured they’d listen to him for at most ten minutes.

  His mind on his troubles, he neglected to pick up his jacket from the chair as he passed it, and entered the drawing room wearing shirtsleeves and a scowl. He dropped all pretense at civility and sprawled in the chair opposite the sofa where Alasdair MacRae had taken a seat next to Jake’s female guest.

  “Hello, Dair. Glad to see you back so quickly.”

  Dair MacRae shrugged. “The business didn’t take long.”

  Jake could tell from his face that the news his friend brought wasn’t good. Suppressing a sigh, he turned to his other guest.

  Marigold Pippin was the one woman, other than his sister, whom Jake had ever loved. She was the one woman on earth he trusted. She was the woman who’d changed his diapers as a babe, kissed his hurts when he bled and swatted his behind when he’d deserved it. She’d never once let him down. “All right, Nanny Pip. I’m ready. Tell me you have a solution for me. Their stunts grow bolder by the day.”

  “As do their cookies,” observed Dair, staring oddly
at the cookie in his hand. “Tastes like they added cayenne pepper to the recipe.”

  Jake winced, then sent a pleading gaze toward the woman who’d taught him his ABCs. “Well?”

  Marigold Pippin gazed over the top of her wire-rimmed glasses and frowned in disapproval. “Look at you. You’ve soot all over your clothing, and you’ve absolutely ruined that chair. You could have taken five minutes to change clothes.”

  “In five minutes, they’ll be listening at the keyholes. Please, Nanny Pip. What am I supposed to do?”

  “You always were impatient.” Marigold Pippin set down her teacup and saucer, then said, “I enjoyed spending yesterday with the children. They’ve grown so much. Miranda and Theresa were little more than babies when I retired. And little Belle, she reminds me so much of your sister at that age. Such a long time ago.” Smiling sadly, she lost herself in memories for a moment. Then, in a matter-of-fact tone, she added, “They’re sweet as spun sugar, for a fact.”

  Sweet? Jake and Dair shared an incredulous glance.

  “I didn’t need an entire day to determine the cause of their…shall we call it high spirits? It’s as I suspected—the little dears are frightened down to their bones.”

  “Frightened? Frightened of what?” Jake sat up straight. “I haven’t touched a one of them, Nanny Pip. I may threaten, but I never follow through. It was the boiling-in-oil comment, wasn’t it? I knew I went too far, but they’d scared me to death sneaking out of the house at night like they did. I don’t care that the park across the street is private and fenced. They had no business going there alone. When I think about who or what could have been hiding in the bushes…” He shuddered.

  “They are testing you, Jake. They need to know if you’re going to stay.”

  “Stay?” Jake could all but hear the hammer fall against the first nail in his coffin.

  Commitment.

  Marigold Pippin folded her hands across her prodigious bosom. “Has anyone told you what it was like for those poor little dears after our dear Penny and her husband were taken from them? And now you plan to leave. What do you expect?”

  Jake propped his elbows on his knees and rubbed the back of his neck. Guilt sat in his stomach like a stone. “No one had to tell me it was awful. They went from beloved children to orphans in the blink of an eye. The physician I hired to examine Caroline said he could find no physical reason why she doesn’t talk. He diagnosed mental trauma as a result of the accident.”

  Mrs. Pippin clucked her tongue. “Of course she’s been traumatized! They’ve all been traumatized. And not only from the loss of their parents. Jacob, I know you were in the African jungle and that delayed your receiving the message about Penny. I know you came for the children at once upon learning the news. Nevertheless, they spent months with that awful Clarinda Barrett. Miranda told me all about it. Why, it’s hard to imagine that she and Harrington were brother and sister. Harrington was so loving with his children. Clarinda all but abused them.”

  “Abused!” Jake exclaimed.

  “She neglected the children, Jacob. She’s a cold, bitter, old maid of a woman who offered the children not a bit of attention or sympathy or support in their time of great need. Clarinda Barrett swept down upon their home like a vulture, dismissed almost all of the savants, sold anything she deemed to be of monetary worth and went to Bath in search of a husband. A dowry is all that woman wanted. At her age! She left the little ones to fend for themselves almost entirely. For months!”

  The stone in Jake’s gut grew another five pounds of weight. He’d come as soon as he knew about the accident.

  But he’d never intended to stay.

  He glanced down, halfway expecting to see iron shackles clamped around his ankles. He glanced around the room, but saw nothing familiar. He’d grown up in New York, in America. Not bloody England. He didn’t want to stay here. To live here. This was his father’s house, one of dozens he owned across the world. It wasn’t Jake’s home.

  Jake didn’t have a home. He didn’t want one. Ever since that ill-fated trip to Tibet, staying in the same place for more than a month or two made him antsy. His home was the road, an unexplored trail through a forest, an uncharted course upon the sea. That’s what he wanted. It was who he was—a wanderer.

  Wanderers had no business dragging children along with them.

  Jake’s jaw hardened. “Nanny Pip, I don’t know what to do. I can’t be a parent. Already, in the space of a single week, three governesses have quit on me. One girl didn’t even last half a day!”

  “Half a day?” Dair interjected. “Was she the one they tied up and pretended to burn at the stake simply because her name was Joan?”

  “No.” Jake sighed. “That was the one from Chesterfield. This one said something about toads in her wardrobe.”

  Nanny Pip smiled. “I know from Penny’s letters that they’ve always been of the mischievous sort, but now they’re using their pranks to test the limits of your love. They want to know if it’s safe to love you.”

  “Safe?” He pushed to his feet and began to pace the room. Safe to love him? What kind of talk was that?

  “What do they think I’m going to do? Feed them poisoned mushrooms?”

  “They’re afraid you’re going to abandon them. That’s why they’re testing you, Jake. They’re afraid you’ll leave.”

  “Of course I’ll leave! I’m leaving in six weeks, in fact. I wrote you about this. I’m going back to Tibet.” He shoved his hand into his pocket and fingered the gold chain he carried with him always. “The trip has been in the planning for years, and I have to go.”

  The expression in Nanny Pip’s eyes softened. “Darling, you know I love you, and I have your best interests at heart. It’s time you let Daniel’s ghost go. These children are the ones who need you now.”

  Jake’s hand found the pendant. His thumb stroked the emerald. “I’m not going in search of Daniel’s ghost or his mythical city. I don’t believe in such nonsense. I’m going because I’m being paid a very nice commission by a prominent European museum to acquire certain items from the Panchen Lama’s monastery.”

  Nanny Pip’s expression said she didn’t believe him one bit.

  She knew him well.

  “Those children need you,” she said quietly.

  Jake closed his eyes as everything inside him rebelled against the statement. “I wouldn’t make a good parent. I’m not what those children need.” He opened his eyes and stared straight at his former nanny. “They need you, Nanny Pip. They’d be so much better off with you. They already love you. They’d be happy.”

  Marigold Pippin said nothing in response, but simply sipped her tea. Jake heard the echo of yet another nail in his coffin. “Please?”

  “Jake,” Dair said with a sigh. “You know better. Nanny Pip has earned her retirement. In fact, I don’t doubt she earned two retirements taking care of you.”

  “But—”

  “Nanny Pip isn’t the answer to your problem. She might be able to handle the children, but she’d be powerless against Clarinda Barrett.”

  Jake fired a look toward Dair MacRae. “Why would Nanny Pip need to worry about the aunt? What did you learn about her?”

  “Enough to suspect she might go after the children legally if you’re not around to stop it. The woman is still in Bath. She hasn’t found a husband.”

  Jake’s spirits sank with the news. “When I came back and assumed guardianship of the children…”

  “You cut off her gravy train,” Dair confirmed. “I doubt she’d attempt to take you on, but if you’re out of the country and the children are left in the hands of paid caretakers—”

  “Nanny Pip is family!”

  “Not in the eyes of the law. Clarinda Barrett is a blood relation. This is England. It’s all about blood. And the Barrett blood is bluer than most. No court would deny Clarinda’s claim if you weren’t around to stop her.”

  The final nail in his coffin was set. Yet it wasn’t in Jake’s nature to g
ive in without a fight “I could make prior arrangements with the lawyers to fight her, couldn’t I?”

  “You could.” Dair stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. “If you’re willing to trust the children’s lives to lawyers.”

  Jake snarled at his friend, then raked his fingers through his hair. His sister had left him her babies. Her five babies. What was she thinking? He had no more business being a daddy than the man in the moon. “I can’t believe Penny would do this to me!”

  Nanny Pip sniffed. “Penelope protected her children. Remember what it was like when you were young, Jacob. Your parents left you and your sister and brother alone so very often.”

  “We weren’t alone. We had you. Even before our mother died, you were always more a mother to us than she was.”

  “A sad statement, that. It’s a situation I’m certain Penelope didn’t want repeated with her little ones. Family is important to children, and you and your siblings suffered for the lack of one.”

  “We had family. We had each other, and after Mother died, Father didn’t travel all that often.” Jake recalled sitting in the study of the house on Park Avenue, poring over old maps with his father and brother.

  “Your father may have been there in body, but not in spirit. Not for you and your sister, anyway. It was better for Daniel because he found a way to connect with the man by traipsing around the world bringing home dustables for him to fawn over. You were like a puppy trailing after him all the time.”

  “Dustables,” Jake muttered with disgust, glancing at Dair. “Daniel brought home priceless treasures, and she calls them dustables.”

  Dair linked his fingers behind his head and shrugged. Nanny Pip smiled, then sobered. “Your sister loved her children, Jake, and she trusted in you to love them, too. You cannot abandon them to Clarinda Barrett.”

  The stone in his gut grew to boulder size. He couldn’t abandon those little ones to their awful aunt. He wouldn’t do that. But there had to be a way out of leg shackles in London.

  Jake shut his eyes, hung his head and sighed.

  Dair leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees. “I have people working for me in that part of the world who could oversee the trip for you.”