Page 13 of Match Made in Heaven (The Cricket Club #5)

F or a second time, Ella stood in the Winchester townhome foyer, preparing for the absolute worst.

She was going to do it.

She was.

Now. While she still had the nerve.

Ella was going to tell the truth.

And then run.

Where? She had no clue.

Her mother had just spent the morning overseeing the packing of her bags for the journey to Sutton Park, explicitly telling her that she would disown Ella if she did that very thing. Ella was certain her mother had been exaggerating, though.

Or, at least, she was almost certain.

As Ella twisted her hands into a mangled mess, trying to motivate her feet into moving, the butler did what quality butlers did best—stare at her out of the corner of his eye.

“The family is in the drawing room, miss,” he remarked, even though he’d told Ella that when he first encouraged her inside.

Ella nodded. “Yes, thank you,” she replied, smiling weakly.

The house was like a museum, so large and vast that she could hear her racing heartbeat bouncing off the pristine marble walls.

She’d used the entire carriage ride over bolstering her confidence to do the deed.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t come up with a plan for how .

She couldn’t possibly announce it to the whole room, could she?

To the doctors and other mysterious men who seemed to meander about the corridors like mice searching for crumbs?

No. She needed to speak to the duchess alone.

That was the only proper way to do it. The duchess was only a woman.

A very terrifying one… but surely, she would understand the mix-up? They might even laugh about it.

Maybe.

One day.

Probably not today.

Fear seized Ella’s insides. She couldn’t do this.

Not now. Not ever. She would just leave.

Explain everything later. Maybe she’d run to the docks and hop on a ship.

She’d travel to one of those islands in the Pacific that she’d read about, join a tribe and learn their ways and be a functioning member of their society—and maybe years from now, when she was strong and courageous, she would return and have that conversation with the duchess.

Then they might share a laugh about it all.

Maybe.

One day.

Though probably not that day, either.

Nevertheless, turning tail and fleeing did seem like the better option.

The decision was made. Ella spun on her heel. Just as she was about to step toward the door, it swung open. She jerked back, narrowly avoiding having her nose broken as Lord John charged inside.

His eyes flared at the sight of her, though a welcome was not in the cards. If anything, the man’s insolent mouth pinched even tighter as he took her in.

“Excuse me, Lord John,” Ella said, courage thinning by the second. “I was just leaving.”

He widened his stance, blocking her from the entrance. “Leaving? I was ordered to be here so we could all go to Sutton Park together.”

“Ordered?” Ella laughed but instantly cringed, as it sounded hysterical to her ears. “Oh, by your mother… Do you always do everything she tells you to do?”

Lord John didn’t appreciate that question one bit. Ella didn’t care. Once he shoved out of the way, she would never have to think about him again. Island life was in front of her.

“When I can,” he replied tersely.

More of her hyena-like laughing. Why couldn’t she control herself? “Please, move.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m trying to get out the door.”

“Why?”

Ella inflated her lungs. “Because I’m trying to leave. Why do you think?”

The ridiculous man actually crossed his arms, widening his shoulders even more. Would he tackle her if she tried to ram through her? Was it worth finding out?

He lowered his head to her level. At any other time, Ella might have focused on the blueness of his eyes, the way they reminded her of glaciers or some other impenetrable object.

But now she only saw exhaustion, the way the lines at the corners felt deeper, more set, as if he’d finally come to terms with something that had been clawing at the recesses of his mind. Resigned.

She also noticed the earring.

“Is that…?” Ella pointed at the small, round golden ball situated in Lord John’s left ear. “Is that what I think it is?”

Instinctively, he reached for his lobe, his frown melting as he spun the jewelry around in its hole. “It’s an earring.”

“I know that.”

His confounded stare convinced Ella that she was one more non sequitur away from Bedlam. “Then why did you ask?”

Good question. Ella retreated, tearing her gaze away from the glinting ball.

Staying on task, remembering what she was here to do, was becoming more and more difficult.

It didn’t help that this pirate smelled like fresh air and salt water.

Sunshine on her skin. But that was impossible. How could anyone smell like sunshine?

It was official. She was insane. She’d finally cracked under the pressure of her lies.

“Lord John, will you kindly move—”

“Jack.”

Ella blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Stop calling me Lord John. I can’t stand it.”

Ella huffed in exasperation. “But it’s your name.”

“I don’t give a shite.”

That was it. Now the barbarian was cursing at her like she was some lowly thief and not the woman who’d saved his brother’s life!

“Fine, Jack . I don’t want to be standing here, and I don’t want to be talking to you, and I definitely don’t want to be wondering what you smell like.”

Jack may have blanched, but Ella didn’t notice. She was too far gone. Her nerves had been pulled and prodded and stretched too thin.

“I just want to go home,” she said, her voice wavering, “but I can’t do that, so I’ll have to settle for an island—a peaceful one, hopefully.

I’ve read about cannibals; I don’t want anyone to eat me.

” She rambled on, “I just want to live simply, maybe pick seashells on the beach, sing songs, read books, those sorts of things. Do they have books on those islands? I hadn’t thought about that.

Maybe I will have to stop at home and pack some.

Maybe if I wait until my mother has gone out, I can do it without her knowing.

She can’t see me. Because then she’ll know that I told you, and then she’ll probably march me right back here or send me to a nunnery.

Can you go to a nunnery if you’re not Catholic?

Will they accept me? Why are there so many things that I’ve never thought of before this day—”

Warm, large hands clasped her shoulders. “Stop. Just stop.”

Everything was blurry. Ella shook her head, and slowly but surely the world pieced itself back together into one coherent picture. Jack and his concern were right in the center of it. With that damn earring.

His blue eyes held hers, capturing her anxiety before it could do more harm. “Breathe, just breathe,” he said softly. Ella did what she was told, sucking in great gulps of air, trying not to think about the way his thumbs traced little circles over her shoulders.

“Now,” he said when she had calmed, “what were you going to tell me?”

Ella swallowed. Why did he have to seem so caring?

Why did his expression have to be so soft, so understanding, so nonjudgmental?

Because it made her want to open up and tell him everything.

It made her want to believe that someone like him—no, not like him, Jack —could actually deliver her from this cataclysmic situation.

Or, at the very least, provide a ship and safe passage for her exile.

“I-I…” Ella stammered, willing her tongue to unfreeze.

Perhaps it would have had a chance if he would stop staring at her mouth.

No one other than her parents or sisters had ever held her like this before.

And Jack’s hold was nothing like theirs.

It was possessive in a way that made her question if she’d ever belonged to her family at all.

She licked her lips, trying again. “I… Jack, I…”

The butt of a cane stamped into the marble. “There you are! We’ve been waiting for you, my dear. It looks like Jack has found you.”

Jack released her like she was a red-hot poker, and Ella stumbled back before locking eyes with the elderly woman she’d seen outside Lord Oliver’s bedroom the previous night. The one who’d brandished her cane like it was Excalibur. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be.” Her smile was kind, though Ella couldn’t surmise if it was genuine.

Up close, the woman appeared even older than Ella had thought.

There didn’t seem to be a square centimeter of her face without a line on it, but her eyes were shrewd, forthright, giving the impression that she could see right through any and everyone.

Her hair was a brilliant silver, and her back had withstood time by her maintaining the posture and strength of a woman half her age.

Try as she might, Ella could find nothing soft about this woman, nor motherly.

And despite all this, Ella couldn’t help but instantly like her—and desperately wanted the woman to like her in return.

The lady jabbed her cane into Jack’s side. “Introduce me, boy,” she ordered him.

Jack snorted. “Miss Ella, this is my formidable grandmother, Lady Amelia. She lives here. Along with everyone else,” he added in a strangled voice.

Ella curtseyed, but Lady Amelia waved her off. “I don’t have time for that sort of nonsense,” she scoffed. “I’m old and I have things I need to get done before I meet my maker at the pearly gates.”

“Pearly gates? You’re feeling rather sure of yourself today,” Jack teased.

The woman glared at her grandson, fighting back a smile. “Be quiet, boy, before I send you to meet him first.”

Ella muffled a gasp. She’d only known one grandmother, who’d died when Ella was ten. The woman barely spoke above a whisper and spent ninety percent of her days at her needlepoint. Lady Amelia was nothing like her—she was a revelation.