Page 6 of Match Made in Heaven (The Cricket Club #5)

“No,” Ella replied uncertainly, taking his snide comment much too seriously. “Marquis Tykesbury. He’s visiting with my sister, Cordelia. He left me the bottle… in case I needed it.”

Jack twisted his lips wryly. “And let me guess, you’ve needed it all day long.”

“Hardly all day—”

Jack shrugged, throwing up a hand. “I don’t care. And to be honest, it isn’t my business. But if it’s possible, I need you to sober up. Quickly. I won’t have you meeting my mother smelling and weaving like a doxy after a long night of work.”

Ella’s eyes and mouth were at it again. Had Jack thought her lips thin?

They were actually quite full… when she was furious.

Her upper body seemed to shake like she was a volcano ready to blow.

Not a tendril of her hair fell out of place, though.

She was a perfect English doll: fairly complected, petite.

Her mouth set in a grim line. She probably read the Bible each night before bed—when she was sober enough to make out the words.

The fact that that aroused him should send him straight to hell. And yes, Jack was aroused. He’d always had a thing for priggish, disapproving women. His cock thickened, and the hairs on the back of his neck hadn’t relaxed since she entered the room.

“How dare you—Wait.” Her bluster evaporated as she lifted her nose, blinking into space. “Your mother? She wants to speak to me? Why?”

“Because my brother is dying,” Jack stated bluntly, ignoring the stab to his heart.

“My poor, grieving mother believes that you are the only one who can revive him, and I love her too much to tell her that she’s mad.

” He cocked his head, studying her. “But I think I might just have to, because you are clearly not up for the task. Good day, miss.”

He slammed on his hat and strode for the door. His hand was almost around the handle when a steel-like paw circled his forearm, yanking him back. This time there was no rehearsed look, no perfected smirk. His incredulity was purely of the moment.

Ella regarded the arm in her hand as if she didn’t have the slightest idea how it got there.

“I’m sorry. You can have this back,” she said, swiftly dropping her hold.

She paused to take a deep breath, fighting for composure.

“I told you that I am not ordinarily like this. In fact”—she put up her hands in a defensive position—“I’ve never had a drink before in my life.

And I only had one—all right, a few—today, which is probably why I’m acting so… so… forward.”

Jack crossed his arms, masking his thoughts with a tight smile. “You’re right. I don’t believe you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why does your mother think I can help… help… Lord Oliver?” Her composure finally slipped.

Her voice cracked in the back of her throat as she said his brother’s name.

Clenching her jaw, she continued, “Surely family should be with him in his time of need. I pulled him from the water—”

“You saved him.” Jack swept a quick glance down her waiflike body, where he was certain he would need a magnifying glass to find any semblance of muscle. His next words sailed out of his mouth, more patronizing than he would have liked. “Although I don’t see how.”

Ella’s chocolatey eyes narrowed at his rudeness. “You are rather quick to judge, my lord.”

“I call it like I see it.”

She pulled her shoulders back. “Well, you do not see me— Hiccup. ”

Jack raised his fingers to his temple, massaging the headache he could sense soaring his way.

He was at a loss. Disappointing his mother was beyond his ken, but this woman…

He watched as she meandered behind the settee.

She reached out to hold on to the back frame but again misjudged the distance and almost toppled to the floor, catching herself right in time. This woman was an absolute mess.

Nevertheless, Jack was a captain. He’d dealt with messes before. People were his specialty. If he could handle twenty-five no-account, filthy sea dogs for weeks at a time, he could manage this slip of a girl. For one night, anyway. And then he’d send her back to her home and her beloved sherry.

He stood in front of her once more, snapping his fingers to get her attention.

Ella swatted his hand out of her face. “You’re intolerably rude, do you know that?”

Jack considered it a rhetorical question.

“Stop talking and listen to me. My mother asks that you sit with Oliver tonight. She thinks you’ll be able to help him.

She’s desperate and I’m desperate to give her whatever she needs.

Can you handle this?” He lowered his head, repeating softly, “Can you handle that?”

The long lines of her throat undulated in a low wave before she eventually nodded.

“Good.” He reached for her elbow. Ella jerked slightly as he held her. “Relax,” he drawled. “I just don’t want you falling before we get there. We don’t need two people in comas tonight.”

Ella whipped her elbow out of his hand. “I’m perfectly capable—”

In a flash, Jack was at her side, righting the ship when she stumbled.

“Care to finish that sentence?”

“Oh, be quiet,” she murmured, allowing him to usher her out the door.

But even as she became more malleable, Jack noticed a change in her as they headed down the hallway.

Her limbs tightened as tension seemed to climb over her like a pernicious weed infecting a garden overnight.

“B-but I don’t understand,” Ella stammered, losing the low, husky tones that had so captivated him.

It was almost like she was speaking to herself.

“I don’t understand what your mother thinks I can do.

I’m just the girl that pulled him out of the river. ”

When they reached the foyer, Jack began barking orders at the butler, demanding the lady’s things, asking for a word with the viscount or viscountess.

When he had the household rushing to do his bidding, he finally came back to her.

Ella appeared lost to him, retreating into some inner turmoil.

Jack wasn’t even sure if she knew she was twisting her fingers raw.

Gently, he reached for them, noticing how swollen and red they’d become. Painful even to look at.

He took his time unwinding the inflamed fingers. “Come now, you’re more than that.”

She blinked up at him, her pale eyelashes flickering as if he’d spoken in a foreign language.

“What do you mean… more than—”

She broke off as a lady’s maid lumbered down the stairs and placed a thin green cloak over Ella’s shoulders. The viscountess was quick on her heels.

“What is going on?” Lady Weston demanded, lifting her chin.

It was clear where Ella got her petite stature.

But that seemed to be the only feature she’d inherited from her mother.

Lady Weston was as dark as her daughter was fair, with lovely violet eyes and midnight hair piled lusciously on the top of her head.

She halted on the fourth step from the bottom, remaining a head taller than everyone.

Jack was in on her trick. He didn’t think it was necessary.

Her bellow was the type that generals practiced when they thought no one could hear them.

Jack bowed, quickly introducing himself and explaining why he needed Ella to leave with him at once.

“I apologize for my behavior, my lady, but my mother says the doctors cannot do it all. She maintains that a man’s body cannot be revived without his heart and spirit.

She is under the impression that my brother will not wake unless his fiancée is there waiting for him. ”

Ella spun to face him. “Fiancée?”

Lady Weston’s head jerked like a startled owl’s. “Fiancée?” Then, as if her first word had never happened, she pivoted, brushing an errant black hair off her forehead. “Oh, yes, fiancée .”

It wasn’t a question this time. But it still didn’t have the might of a statement. The older woman looked to her youngest daughter, eyeing her carefully. Something pricked at Jack’s insides as Ella ducked, once more only showing the crown of her bowed head.

He shifted his weight to his other leg as he contemplated the scene. The viscountess would make a champion poker player. What tics and indications she’d revealed in her countenance had all been washed away in a matter of seconds.

Jack turned his focus to Ella, who released a slight tremble. “You are engaged?” he asked.

Did Ella chirp? He squared his shoulders, lifting her chin with the pad of his finger. Apparently, Ella was more like her mother than he’d thought, because she’d also managed to wipe her face clean. A blank slate, Ella withstood his scrutiny with placid, marble-like features.

Using his bulk as intimidation, Jack stepped closer to her, searching for guile, but all he noticed was that the heat running through his veins seemed to bleed into her, causing a flush to swim up her porcelain neck into the hollow of her cheeks.

“The old man at the lake…” he began quietly.

“He heard you. He heard you say you were going to marry my brother. Did you say it? Is it true?”

“Of course it’s true!” the viscountess cried, skipping down the last four steps, finally demurring to Jack’s height.

She nudged him out of the way with her hips and threw her arms around her daughter in a hug that was supposed to be comforting, but one Jack considered a little too congratulatory.

Lady Weston pulled away, rubbing Ella’s upper arms as if to wake the chill in her bones.

Her words were to Jack, but her gaze never left her daughter.

Her smile was wide and toothy as she said, “My daughter wouldn’t declare anything so wonderful if it wasn’t true.

Obviously, she forgot herself in the drama of the day.

Saving a life can be very taxing, can’t it?

I’m afraid you caught me off guard, my lord.

You see… the engagement is new, and I was surprised that you even knew about it.

We haven’t told anyone.” Looking over her shoulder at him, she shrugged coquettishly.

“Your brother had ideas about the announcement. You know how he can be.”

Jack’s eyes turned to slits. If the events of the last two days proved anything, it was that he wasn’t sure if he did know his brother anymore.

The lady charged at him then, poking and prodding his shoulders before tugging Ella’s cloak even tighter around her neck. “Go, go, you two. The duke needs you. Why are you still here? Don’t keep him waiting. The sooner Ella can revive her love, the sooner the wedding can take place!”

Jack gave her one last discerning glance before taking the hint and turning toward the door, which the austere butler opened with relish.

But just as Jack had Ella at the threshold, she resisted, tugging out of his hold, throwing her mother a beseeching look.

“What am I thinking? I can’t do this. I can’t do this.

I can’t do this. What does the duchess possibly think I can do?

” She shook her head back and forth like she was in the middle of a fit.

She lunged for her mother, clinging to her arms for dear life. “I can’t do this. Please, Mother. What about my condition? Didn’t Father say I needed to rest?”

Lady Weston smiled sweetly at Jack as if apologizing for her daughter’s outburst. However, the way she ground the words out through her teeth wasn’t as saccharine.

“Yes, and by the smell of your breath, it seems you’ve been doing exactly that.

” She clicked her tongue at Jack. “Poor thing, she’s been beside herself with grief. ”

Ella ignored her. “But what about Cordelia? She’s leaving tomorrow. I don’t know when I’ll see her again.”

Lady Weston patted her hands. “You’ll see her at the ball soon, and you write such personable letters!”

Ella lowered her chin, positively glowering. “Mother,” she growled. “This is a family matter. Surely, surely , I shouldn’t impose.”

The viscountess tipped her head to her daughter’s until their foreheads almost touched.

Jack had the sick feeling of being a fly on the wall, that something was happening here that was completely lost to him.

The mother spoke slowly and firmly. “But you are his family now, my love. And you’re not imposing if they ask. ”

“Do you know what you’re asking me to do?”

Lady Weston tilted her head back, that smile never vanishing. She cupped her daughter’s cheek. “Yes, my dear. I’m asking you to do what you’ve always done. Love him. ”