Charming Artemis by Sarah M. Eden
Chapter Fifteen
Artemis didn’t know what to make of Charlie Jonquil. They’d been mortal enemies for nearly two years, picking at each other, disliking each other, resenting each other. That had grown ever more pointed in the weeks since they’d been forced to marry. But during their journey to Nottinghamshire, he’d been sweet and patient, accommodating, and thoughtful. Of course, they had agreed beforehand to play the role of a caring couple. Perhaps he was simply as talented a performer as she had learned to be over the years. He’d certainly shown himself a remarkable mimic.
But he’d been kind even when they’d been alone in the inn the night before. There’d been no one around in need of fooling. He’d been sweet and funny, and he’d made her feel at ease in a situation that could have been terribly uncomfortable. She liked the Charlie she’d spent time with in that pokey little room. He’d been very like the Charlie who’d played games at Brier Hill. Who’d listened as she’d spoken of her father. Who’d softly touched her hair. She’d been more herself with him in those moments than she had been with almost anyone else, and he hadn’t been repulsed or rejecting.
How tempting it was to snatch at that thread of hope, but she’d had far too many snap over the years to trust it.
She’d still not made sense of it all by the time they arrived at Lampton Park. The Jonquils were known to be a tight-knit and fiercely loyal family. Their loyalty to one another was legendary. And she had shattered all the hopes of their youngest brother. She hadn’t the first idea how she would be received.
Charlie had grown quieter as they’d drawn closer to his family home. He seemed as uneasy as she.
“I’m a little nervous,” she said as the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the imposing house.
He let out a slow breath. “So am I.”
They’d seen each other through the awkward discomfort of the inns on the journey here; they would support each other through this as well. Heaven knew the effort wouldn’t be perfect, neither would the facade they meant to present, but it was something.
A liveried footman handed her down. She stood a moment, breathing through her uncertainty. Artemis of myth was likely never nervous. She was a warrior goddess, captain of her own ship, determiner of her own fate. The Huntresses would be appalled if they could see how far short of her namesake’s legacy she was falling at the moment.
Charlie stepped up beside her. Artemis squared her shoulders. They were in this together.
“Are you ready to resume our roles?” he asked.
“I think we had best try.”
Almost mechanically, he offered her his arm. There was no real warmth in the gesture.
“If you don’t try to look a little happy,” she whispered, “they will never believe the ruse.”
She heard him push out a strained breath. A smile appeared on his face. It was not entirely believable, but it might do.
Artemis had vastly more experience pretending to feel at ease in situations where she knew she was not wanted or welcome. She wrapped that protective cloak around her as she’d done many times before and walked at his side into the lion’s den.
Whenever she’d imagined herself married and visiting her husband’s family, she’d pictured herself a welcome part of that family. She’d imagined gaining a father and mother who loved and cherished her, siblings who considered her one of them. Instead, she was arriving as the enemy. All the playacting in the world wasn’t likely to actually change that.
The butler and housekeeper received them cordially and formally. They were offered the option of either retiring and resting from their journey or joining the earl and countess in the drawing room. Charlie deferred to Artemis.
“I should like to greet our hosts,” she said, not because it was necessarily the better or more proper choice but because she worried she’d lose her nerve otherwise. She was meant to be Artemis, diamond of Society, intimidated by no one and nothing.
They were led there, no matter that Charlie knew perfectly well where the drawing room was. It was a strong reminder that they were guests. On his own, he likely would have been welcomed as family.
At the drawing room door, the butler announced, “Mr. and Mrs. Charles Jonquil.”
Charlie groaned quietly, almost a sigh of disgust. Whether he objected more to being called Charles, a version of his name she knew from experience he disliked or from hearing her so intrinsically tied to him, she wasn’t certain.
Please don’t abandon me now, Charlie.
The earl, turned out in colorful and dramatic fashion as always, rose at their entrance. The countess did not, though she greeted them.
“You’ve arrived without murdering one another.” Lord Lampton eyed them both. “Perhaps Holy Harry’s been praying for a miracle.”
“Who is Holy Harry?” Artemis asked.
Lord Lampton’s expression turned to one of theatrical worry. “Has he not mentioned that he has brothers?”
She could play along. She would enjoy it, in fact. “Brothers?” She pressed a hand to her heart, settling her features in a look of surprised confusion. She turned to Charlie. “Do you have brothers?”
A bit of color touched in his cheeks. “Holy Harry is my brother Harold, though he does not particularly care for that nickname, so I wouldn’t recommend it.”
She nodded. “Any other warnings I ought to heed?”
“Don’t listen to a word Philip says.”
For that bit of cheek, his older brother gave him a shove and received one in return. There was something painfully poignant about seeing such easy familiarity between them. Though her family loved each other, they were never this at ease. At least she wasn’t. Even amongst her siblings, she kept herself safely tucked away.
She diverted her gaze, needing a moment to regain her composure. Her eyes fell on a large family portrait above the fireplace. The subjects were easy to identify. Lord Lampton, though likely at least ten years younger in the portrait and far less brightly dressed than he was now, looked too much like himself to be confused for anyone else. The dowager countess was easily recognized. The little boy with the ginger hair was utterly unmistakable.
The gentleman sitting amongst this large family drew her attention. His friendly expression and the smile in his eyes was familiar. She’d thought so when she’d been at Lampton Park for the house party a couple of years earlier. He looked a great deal like his sons. Shockingly so, in fact. Anyone who knew them would feel instantly as though they’d known him.
“Where are the children?” Charlie asked his brother. “I’ve come to see them, you realize. The rest of you aren’t terribly important.”
“Not important?” Philip eyed him with overblown shock. “How can anyone wearing a waistcoat of hand-embroidered yellow silk beneath a perfectly tailored coat of deepest purple be considered anything but absolutely crucial? I fear you must be unwell from your journey.” He looked to his wife. “Sorrel, have Dr. Scorseby sent for at once. Charlie is clearly delirious with some horrific illness.”
“You are going to be impossible while your brothers are here, aren’t you?” Lady Lampton said with a sigh.
“Not ‘impossible,’ dear. Utterly irresistible.”
She shook her head. “The children are in the nursery,” she told Charlie. “You had best go visit them, as they are likely to be better behaved than their father.”
Lord Lampton clasped a hand to his heart. “You wound me, my love. Deeply.”
Adam found the earl’s theatrics wearying. Artemis adored the dramatics. This was a brother-in-law she could get along with very well if given half a chance. He so easily brought a smile to her face even in a difficult moment like this. Her Papa had managed that also. In her mind’s eye, she began to picture her Papa as being tall, like Lord Lampton.
“Layton’s little ones are here as well,” Lady Lampton said. “Caroline, in particular, will be offended if you do not visit her straight off. Her uncle is a bad influence, you realize.”
“Which uncle?” Artemis asked, enjoying the banter.
“All of them,” the three answered in near unison.
“It seems the perfect time to look in on the children.” Charlie walked back toward her.
She reached out, fully expecting to be offered his arm. In his enthusiasm to see more of his family members, he neglected that. Only because he was eager for his family. She told herself that several times as she followed him from the room. Only as they climbed the stairs did she realize he might not have been inviting her to join him on the trek through the house.
There was no real option but to continue following. She didn’t know where in this house she would be staying. Wandering about until she either found her traveling trunk in a bedchamber or a servant to plead with was too embarrassing a prospect to entertain.
They arrived at the nursery wing, and a chorus of welcomes greeted Charlie. Little Lord Jonquil was vocal, but he was too young for much of what he said to make sense. A little boy, who must have been at least two years old, sporting a bit of red in his hair, came rushing over. Artemis remembered a younger version of him from the long-ago house party.
The most enthusiastic of greetings, though, came from Charlie’s eight-year-old niece, whom Artemis had been absolutely enchanted with during her last stay at Lampton Park. Miss Caroline Jonquil was a delightfully precocious girl with a head of golden curls and mesmerizingly blue eyes. She had all her family wrapped around her finger yet was wholly unspoiled by it.
“Uncle Charming!” She rushed to Charlie.
He knelt and held the little girl in a fierce embrace. “Oh, I’ve missed you, Caroline.”
“Uncle Flip says you do not live here anymore. He is being very silly with me.”
He sat on the floor, and she sat facing him. “Uncle Flip, you will be shocked to hear, is telling you the truth.”
She looked confused. “Where will you live if you don’t live here?”
“I am living in a house called Brier Hill in Cumberland. It is up near Scotland.” Somehow, he managed to make it sound as if he were pleased with the arrangement, though Artemis knew he was not.
“Why would you live there? Your family are all here.”
“Not all of them,” Charlie countered.
“Nearly all.”
He reached over and took his niece’s hand. “Generally, when a person marries, he or she goes to live in his or her own house.”
Caroline’s eyes pulled wide. “Did you get married?”
Had no one told the little girl? It was, Artemis supposed, not something the family was precisely celebrating.
“I did,” Charlie said. “To Miss Lancaster.” He motioned toward Artemis hovering awkwardly near the doorway. “You remember her. She visited year before last.”
Caroline shook her head. She didn’t remember. The one person in this family Artemis had been certain would remember her with fondness—they’d had several lovely interludes discussing curly hair and how to best arrange it—didn’t even remember her.
Artemis slipped a bit to the side and sat in one of the adult-sized chairs placed around the edge of the room.
“Will you walk with me by the river?” Caroline’s focus was on Charlie once more.
His lap was filled with children. Lord Kendrick and the other little boy had made their way to him quickly. Charlie had scooped up Lady Julia and was holding her too. “Of course I will, sweetheart. I’ve missed our walks along the Trent.”
This was the family life Charlie had lost. Only when held by her Papa had Artemis felt that someone wanted or needed her around.
She and Charlie had concocted a plan to pretend to be perfectly content and happy in their current arrangement, assuming it was the only way to save them from misery upon returning to the Jonquil family home. Charlie was obviously accepted back without needing the playacting. Would Artemis be accepted even with it?
