Page 22 of Match Made in Heaven (The Cricket Club #5)

“Y ou didn’t tell me you lived in a castle.” The little girl glowered at Jack as she made that remark, as if he’d been withholding the information on purpose just to spite her.

The carriage dropped them off in front of Sutton Park with the sun gasping its last breath, falling lazily beneath the horizon.

Jack hadn’t planned it, but coming upon the giant house with its ancient stone and endless glass sparkling against the waning burnt-orange sun was magical even to him. It was something to truly admire.

Or, in the girl’s case, reproach.

Jack exited the conveyance swiftly, offering to help the ten-year-old, but he was too slow. Bypassing the steps, she hopped down to the gravel, her dirty brown boots staking claim like she were a conquering hero.

If only , Jack thought.

“It’s hardly a castle,” he muttered, brow furrowed at the front door. Despite his earlier talk with Ella, Jack put little stock in fairytales; however, the entrance felt charmed, like if he didn’t answer a certain question right then, he and the girl would be devoured before making it through.

Sonia. Her name was Sonia.

Jack placed his hand on her tiny shoulder, pressing her forward.

“This is my home now?” Sonia asked. For the first time, something like awe could be detected in her voice. Her feet—which had been steady when Jack took her from the orphanage—finally betrayed her cool facade, and she skipped.

“It is.”

“And you’re my father?”

That was the second time she’d asked that pertinent question. Jack answered it the only way he knew how. “I am now.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw her nod. And then take a giant, torso-shuddering breath.

Jack paused at the door, hating what he was about to do and especially hating what he was about to say. “This is your home for now ,” he said, softening the words with a tiny squeeze. “We will be leaving soon, after my brother is better.”

“Is he sick?”

“Yes.”

She scrunched her little nose. The same pert nose Oliver shared with their mother. “Sick like my mother was sick?”

Jack glanced at the girl, hoping his face gave every impression of confidence. But Sonia, as he was learning, was wary by nature, and as she twisted her lips to the side, he understood he had a long way to go before winning her trust.

“No, not like your mother.”

Sonia averted her eyes, using the time to dust her hands over the poor, shabby orphanage uniform that was made for a girl two years younger. “Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Jack, knowing he couldn’t stand out there all night, despite wanting to, reached for the door, but stopped himself. “When we get in there… You shouldn’t talk. I mean, let me do the talking,” he said.

Sonia’s little voice raised to a high pitched lilt when she asked, “Why?”

Jack whipped off his hat, running a hand through his hair. “Just trust me. It will be easier this way.”

He faced the door again, but could feel her eyes on him, scrutinizing him, sizing him up. Jack was woefully unprepared and promised himself that he would never ask her what she’d thought of him on this first day. He was afraid his ego wouldn’t be able to take it.

“I like your earring,” she said, placing her tiny hand in his. Like a nesting doll, it fit inside perfectly. Like they were made from the same cloth. The same people. The same family. Which they were.

Jack exhaled and stepped forward. Perhaps he would ask her about today. In the far, far future.

The family hadn’t gone in for dinner yet. Towing Sonia behind him, Jack ventured into the drawing room, hooking everyone’s attention the second he crossed the threshold.

He’d debated sending her to the nursery.

Jack had no idea the kind of welcome his mother would give.

Calling her a loose cannon was simply too kind.

Nevertheless, the thought of leaving Sonia alone felt wrong.

If they were going to start a life together, it was important that they begin as they intended to proceed.

“I was wondering if we were going to see you tonight—” The duchess’s words were cut off as Sonia came up beside him.

She was tall for her age; the top of her head reached Jack’s belly button, and the intense pride that hit him when he noticed Sonia stretch her neck even longer in the face of his mother’s owl-like eyes was startling and fast.

“Mother, I have something I want to tell you. Someone you should meet.”

Lady Evelyn didn’t hesitate. Setting her glass on the table next to her, she stood, wiping her hands together like she was washing them of this muddy conversation before it even began.

“Later,” she said, plastering a stiff smile on her face.

“We’re all about to go into dinner, and I’d hate for our guests to go hungry. ”

Jack swiped his tongue over his front teeth as he took in the guests pretending to hide their morbid curiosity—the five doctors, whose entire livelihoods depended on this family, and his uncles, who could barely contain their interest in the obvious drama Jack was about to rain down on them all.

He had spent his life disregarding his father’s brothers, considering them cautionary tales.

But any indiscretions they might have had were dealt with the proper , quiet way.

Jack could read them easily: Say what you want about us, boy, but at least we didn’t bring our problems home.

Because his grandmother was snoring in her chair next to the fire, the only expression Jack couldn’t decipher was Ella’s. Her face was blank though increasingly alert. But Jack knew it was only a matter of time before her disappointment and censure were made known.

So be it. He knew damn well this wasn’t going to be easy, and certainly not comfortable.

Placing his arm around Sonia’s shoulder, Jack straightened. “Mother, I’d like to introduce you to Sonia,” he said. “Your granddaughter.”

The duchess giggled nervously, looking at all the others as if Jack were playing a trick on them. “Honestly, Jack… the stories you tell. Now, send the child to the kitchens to eat with the servants and let’s go in to dinner.”

“Sonia will be eating with us.”

Lady Evelyn lurched to standing. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Jack, but I do not like it—”

“She will also be staying here. I’m sure there’s more than enough room for her in the nursery.”

“No.” His mother shook her head, back and forth, back and forth, as if trying to rid herself of something stuck in her ears. “This will not happen. This is not how things work. You might spend most of your time with thieves and savages, but you can’t have forgotten the rules we all live by.”

Jack tousled the little girl’s black curls, trying to distract her.

That elicited a baleful glance that struck his conscience, giving him the strength to do what he had to do, even if it meant breaking his mother’s heart and fracturing her good opinion of him.

“Those aren’t my rules. And I won’t blindly obey them.

If you won’t let my daughter stay here—”

Lady Evelyn gasped, slapping both hands against her mouth. “She can stay, just not in the nursery—”

“If you won’t let my daughter stay here,” Jack continued, never raising his voice, “then I will not stay here either. I will respect your decision. I have many ships at my disposal; I can have us on one by tomorrow.”

“Jack!” his mother cried. She wobbled on her feet, and he stepped forward, afraid she might fall.

However, the instant she saw him move, her red-rimmed eyes went dangerously wide.

Jack’s instincts told him to stand in front of Sonia, covering her from whatever hurt and pain his mother couldn’t contain.

But Ella did it first. Sliding in front of the duchess, she grasped her hands, whispering words that Jack couldn’t hear. His mother released a plaintive sob and rushed from the room, taking great pains to give Jack and the skinny little girl a wide berth.

Ella hurried after her.

Just as she was about to pass him, Jack reached for her arm, pulling their heads together. Ignoring the way her closeness affected him, the way the scent of her lavender soap squeezed his chest, he lowered his lips to her ear.

“It seems I don’t always do what my mother says.”

*

Ella tossed in her bed, switching to lie on her opposite side. Sleep remained elusive. Despite using all her energy and ploys to help the duchess nod off, she still had too much life coursing through her. As well as so many mixed emotions.

Ella didn’t know what to think or whom to feel sorry for.

What Jack had done was inexcusable—not the part about the little girl.

Ella was na?ve, but she wasn’t deaf. She’d heard her fair share of similar stories, some even about her own brothers-in-law.

No, her issue with Jack stemmed from how he’d presented the little girl to his mother.

In front of all those people. That audience of gawkers.

How could he do that to his mother or the girl?

Sonia.

A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Jack’s girl. Or so he said.

Fine. If she couldn’t sleep, she’d get answers instead.

Exasperated, Ella escaped the comfortable confines of her bed and found her robe.

She peeked out the door, hoping that none of the uncles were late-night walkers.

It was difficult enough attempting to find common ground with them during the day—doing it with only a few layers of flimsy muslin between them would be soul scarring.

Ella had never ventured to the upper floors before. Only the servants’ quarters and the nursery were housed upstairs, and with no children in the house, the nursery was an unnecessary stop even in her bored wanderings.

Tiptoeing down the corridor, she saw a light slanting sharp and stretched along the floor, escaping from a partially opened door.

Jack’s deep, resonant voice floated down the hallway, dragging a smile from her.

Because she’d known he would be there. If she were being honest with herself, she’d acknowledge it was the reason she was there.