Page 53 of A Siren for the Duke

His Grace Ferdinand Upton

As Lionel’s eyes scanned the parchment over and over again, he grew angrier with each re-read. He had thought that, perhaps on the off chance, the Duke would be overjoyed and take back his edicts. But no, Jemima’s brother seemed determined to be angry and see their love as an aberration. His face grew hot with anger, and in a blaze, he grabbed his wine glass and smashed it against the wall with a roar, watching the shiny clear pieces scatter everywhere.

He was going to have to tell her. After everything they’d been through together, he was going to lose her again, and this time, it would be all his fault.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Although she’d only been there for about thirty hours of her life, Jemima decided she very much liked Jamaica so far. Elena Sherwood had taken her into town to see more of the vibrancy of the island, and then they’d returned to the lush garden at her home for tea.

They were enjoying some sweet conversation when Lionel rounded the corner, looking slightly more anxious than usual.

“Captain!” she said, beaming, thinking privately of how she’d called him the night before in the throes of passion. “Where have you been all day?”

“Making sure my ship did not sprout legs and run off. Mrs. Sherwood,” he said, turning to their gracious hostess and acknowledging her presence.

“Lady Jemima, I must speak with you in private. Do you have a moment?”

His voice sounded urgent, and she detected no blush upon his hearing the moniker she’d used last night.

“Oh... I,” she looked to Mrs. Sherwood as if to ask permission to depart her company, but at that moment, Mr. Sherwood burst into the garden with a large smile upon his face.

“My lady! Ah, everyone’s here,” he said in a jovial manner. “My apologies for the interruption, but I have corresponded with your aunt, Lady Eliza Upton. She lives not far from us, and it would only be a short carriage ride.”

“Oh!” Jemima’s heart quickened. A couple of weeks ago, she would have been happy to hear such news. But after her time spent with Lionel and relearning to love him again, she was not so sure she was happy.

Mr. Sherwood seemed the only oblivious one in the group. Lionel looked as though he were experiencing a bad stomachache, and Mrs. Sherwood regarded Jemima with a curious eye.

“She received your letter only last week, but her reply, of course, is headed back to England, which is why you have not heard from her.”

Jemima’s heart sank. She had not expected her aunt to reply, but now that meant something worse... the letter would undoubtedly reach her home. Knowing she was not there, either Ferdinand or her mother would read it. She’d warned her family that she was going to the Caribbean so they had some idea of where she would be, but what if Aunt Eliza said no? What if her reply was to implore Ferdinand to come and collect her?

“Indeed, yes, of course,” Jemima said, setting down her teacup so that it was not so obvious she was shaking.

“If you like, I’ll have someone collect your things, she is prepared to receive you this afternoon.”

“So soon!” Jemima blurted out. Mrs. Sherwood would not stop looking at her in that curious manner.

“Yes, she wrote she would be delighted to see you.”

“Oh. Well... I suppose I ought to pack then. We should not keep her waiting,” Jemima said, standing up and wiping her clammy palms on the peach-colored linen day gown Mrs. Sherwood had lent her.

“Unfortunately, my dear, the maids are still tending to your laundry, but we can have it sent over when it is ready. In the meantime, I’ll send you with a couple gowns so you do not arrive without clothes at your aunt’s house,” Mrs. Sherwood assured.

“Thank you, Mrs. Sherwood, that’s very kind of you.”

Everyone had completely forgotten Lionel’s request to speak to her privately.

* * *

Jemima’s nerves would not allow her to appreciate the island’s beauty. Clearly, both Lionel and Mrs. Sherwood could tell, which only made the air in the carriage even more suffocating. Still, the ambassador’s wife tried to lighten the mood and pointed out various plants, flowers, sights, and people. Then the conversation turned to Aunt Eliza.

“When was the last time you saw your aunt?” Mrs. Sherwood asked.

“It’s been quite some time. Several years. A decade, perhaps,” Jemima explained, careful not to spill too much of the truth.

“May I ask why she lives in Jamaica rather than England? We have chatted often but she has never mentioned why she came here.”

Lionel’s sea blue eyes were fixed on Jemima as she talked, and she found his gaze a little difficult to bear and turned to Mrs. Sherwood.