Page 37 of Match Made in Heaven (The Cricket Club #5)

Ella rubbed her eyes. Sleep had been nonexistent, and she couldn’t stop scratching her arms. Her skin felt too tight; nothing felt right. Ella told herself that she was overreacting, that everything would turn out for the best, but an unnerving sense of doom kept pricking her.

Jack swiveled his neck around them before leaning down to kiss Ella on the forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said before stealing a kiss from her lips. It was over before Ella could kiss him back. “Just wait for me.”

*

Ella did wait. For two days she paced every room in the house, but Jack didn’t come. Eventually, he sent a letter saying he would explain when he returned, but he never mentioned when that might be.

Luckily, the duke didn’t call on Ella during this time.

She dealt with the interminable hours of waiting by following Sonia around the house while the duchess tried out nannies, putting them through different unlikely, dramatic scenarios to see how they could cope with the colorful child.

In forty-eight hours, grandmother and granddaughter had culled three, with a fourth not far behind.

Even Ella had to admit the process had been entertaining, if not a little frightening.

By the third day, Ella was at her breaking point. A note from her mother provided just the excuse she needed to get out of the house and away from her overactive mind, which had begun to view the future in various shades of calamity.

On the way to the Weston townhouse, Ella finally managed to contain herself, ruminating on robust tea and Cook’s famous lavender and honey biscuits.

Ella would relax with her mother and let the woman harp on about all the comings and goings of the ton , all the drama that she thrived on and (sometimes) encouraged.

Only a lazy afternoon like that could distract Ella from her doldrums and direct her attention to people other than herself.

The weight she’d carried like a pack mule felt lighter as Ella skipped out of the duke’s carriage and ran up to the townhouse.

Her smile was genuine when their ancient butler ushered her inside with his friendly, stoic demeanor.

And the hug she gave her mother was strong and not at all forced as they came together in the drawing room before taking seats on matching rose settees, facing one another.

Lady Weston, in all her generosity, allowed Ella a solid five minutes to partake in the heavenly biscuits before the questions began. However, there was nothing relaxing about them.

The viscountess’s features dimmed, her delight for the reunion fading into a businesslike intensity. “I spoke to Cordelia.”

Ella’s chewing slowed. “And?”

“She told me what happened after the ball.”

Ella gulped the biscuit with exaggerated effort, her mouth impossibly dry. She was going to kill her sister. Of all the people in the world, why would Cordelia tell their mother about that night?

Lady Weston’s mouth pinched as Ella remained quiet. “So, it’s true. You let the brother seduce you.”

Ella placed her teacup on the center table. “The brother is Lord John—the son of a duke, as you well know. And there was no seducing .”

Or maybe there had been. Ella didn’t know for sure. Seduction indicated something tawdry and wicked. She couldn’t equate the word with what had happened with Jack.

“Son of a duke, but not a duke, is he?” Lady Weston pointed out sharply. “He’s a shipping merchant. A captain. A businessman, for heaven’s sake!”

“You say it like it’s a disease, Mother.”

Lady Weston’s eyes widened, her pupils dilating until all Ella could see was black.

“To you, it very well could be!” She reclined on the settee, tilting her head at her daughter.

“Do you think I don’t know what the ton says about me?

What they whisper behind my back about my ambitions?

Do you think I’ve ever cared?” She shook her head, not waiting for Ella’s response.

“No. Because I knew better. No one was ever going to look after me or my family better than me. And I’m almost complete.

I only have my youngest, most stubborn daughter left. ”

Ella lifted her chin, feigning confidence. “And she is happily taken.”

Her mother tsked , arching a brow. “In more ways than one, I can tell.” Ella’s mouth gaped open, but her mother went on.

“Listen to me, daughter. I love you. I love you so much. When you were sick, I held your little hand, and I prayed to God to save you because I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it if you left us.

My beautiful little star. My tiny blonde light.

You were a joy to this family, a missing piece the moment you were born.

But then the fever took you. And it took so much .

I know you don’t want to believe it, but you aren’t as strong as you think.

Have you had any attacks since you’ve been away? ”

Ella immediately thought to lie, but she couldn’t. Her mother’s shrewd countenance paralyzed her before she could try.

“That’s what I thought,” the viscountess said.

She raised her teacup to her lips, her hands betraying a tremble.

The lady placed it on the table and scooted to the edge of her seat.

Her face was softer now, the natural effects of age highlighted in her downcast expression.

“I know he seems like an adventure, sweet girl—”

“I love him.” Ella had never said the words before. She’d assumed the declaration would make her stomach feel like it was filled with champagne, bubbles rising and popping happily inside her.

But it didn’t. Not now. Not here.

And Lady Weston knew that. Ella could tell by the way her mother stared at her with fresh, aching pity.

“He’s an idea ,” she said. “A fantasy. But you were made to read about those kinds of lives, not live them. He doesn’t even own a home for you.

What happens if you have one of your flare-ups out at sea?

Have you thought about that? Who will help you?

” She pressed her hands together in front of her as if in prayer.

“You have the chance to be a duchess. That is the life for you. Quiet, calm, controlled.”

Ella’s nose burned; tears began to pool. “Have you met Lord Oliver?” she asked helplessly. “Do you know about the life he used to lead? Because it sounded romantic in my ignorance, but now I know better. There’s nothing quiet or calm about it.”

“That can be his life outside of the home, but it won’t be the way he acts toward you. A wife is afforded better.” Ella could see how carefully her mother picked her words, and it made her heart shiver.

But it didn’t change it. Ella loved a Sutton boy, and it wasn’t Oliver.

“Will you try to stop me?” she asked, her voice breaking at the very end.

Tears were rare for Lady Weston. One didn’t get as far as she had by giving everyone a front-row seat to her feelings.

Nevertheless, her eyes glistened with disappointment.

“No,” she sighed. “The last time I forbade you from doing something, you joined a cricket club. But I will ask you to stop and think. You’re not a little girl anymore, Ella.

Girls make decisions based on emotions. Women make them with their head.

There’s a reason why they say nothing is better than a good book.

The real world wasn’t made for happy endings. ”