The Tempestuous Debutante: Book 4 in the Cotillion Ball Series (Crimson Romance) (22 page)

Charlotte hugged Jasmine again, despite the fact the girl was filthy, and her lovely dress was ruined. She reached over and drew the loose hair back from Jasmine’s sooty face, which was streaked with mud and the lines from her tears.

“He loves you mightily. To run back into a burning building to retrieve a cap just because you gave it to him speaks volumes about the man. I had no idea you were even interested in him. I just appreciated the fact he gave you riding lessons and helped you overcome your fear.”

Jasmine pulled back from her mother’s grasp. “You knew I was afraid of horses?”

“Darling girl, you and Heather may have been able to fool others by impersonating each other when you wanted to, but I could always tell you apart. I’ve known for years that you sent Heather out on any occasion where riding was called for, while you stayed home, professing a stomach ache.”

“And all these years, we thought we were fooling everyone.”

“Well, there’s no need to fool anyone any longer. Parr’s taken care of that. I don’t know what he did to help you conquer that fear, but I am grateful. For that, and so much more. He’ll be a good husband for you.”

Jasmine leaned over and kissed her mother on the cheek. “I’m glad you appreciate him. I would have come around eventually to the fact that he’s the one for me and not Alistair, but it might not have happened until months after Alistair and I married. Thank God for the fire, is all I can say. It forced me to face facts. And life without Parr would be a hollow one.”

“Yes, dear. And if I put any pressure on you to choose Alistair, I am truly sorry. Halwyn and your father both tried to tell me I was letting my lust for his title overcome my usual sterling matchmaking skills, but I refused to listen. I’m glad you followed your heart.”

“And speaking of my heart, let’s get inside so I can clean up a bit before I find Parr and kiss him again. I can smell the smoke on myself, so I’m sure everyone else can, too. And I must look a fright. This dress has made its last appearance, I’m afraid. But it’ll do for now. I only want to get back to Parr’s side. I’ve been dreaming about his kisses for weeks, and don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough of them.”

• • •

Parr had thought he had a leprechaun on his shoulder when Alistair plucked him out of poverty and obscurity, offering him a partnership in his business and bringing him to America. Since the day of their first meeting, Parr kept pinching himself, as he could not believe his good fortune. He had literally found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Alistair had proved to be a good friend as well, at a time when Parr truly needed someone in his corner.

But that good fortune paled in comparison to what had happened tonight. Jasmine, his sweet cailín, had picked him over Alistair’s wealth and status. He breathed a huge sigh of relief, realizing he was truly blessed. She was the one who’d first grabbed an axe and began to carve a hole for him to climb out of. Without her leading the way, the men would have just stood by and stared in shock as Parr’s life was snuffed out. He and Jasmine were two kindred souls.

Thank God, leprechauns, and fairies for setting that barn ablaze. The fire in the structure matched the fire that had been brewing between the two of them for months now. One that would no longer be denied.

Parr settled in for the night, in Alistair’s house. He’d had a bath, taken some of Alistair’s casual clothing for himself, and bid him and his lady friend, Lydia Smith, good night. As he lay in bed, listening to the sounds emanating from Alistair’s room, he realized Alistair was as pleased as he was about the way the night had turned out. Alistair’s true love was in the bed with him at that moment. And to think he’d nearly proposed to Jasmine instead. They would have both been miserable. Yes, the luck of the Irish was afoot tonight. Colleen had been right, after all. She believed things would have this very outcome, even when all signs pointed to a marriage between Jasmine and Alistair. Parr clutched his tweed cap, which still smelled strongly of smoke, in his hands as he closed his eyes for the first peaceful night’s sleep he’d had in ages. He could hardly wait until tomorrow.

• • •

Jasmine settled back in the carriage with a contented sigh. Finally able to catch her breath, she realized she was exhausted. But also more excited than she’d ever been in her life. Visions of her wedding dress danced through her head, and her fingers itched for her sketchpad and pencil so she could begin putting her ideas down on paper. This long night would be even longer, since her head would not hit her pillow until she had a few sketches done.

“Well, Jasmine, you certainly surprised me tonight,” Charlotte grumbled good-naturedly, with a smile on her face. “Just when I think I can predict your every move, you pull the rug out from under me. Been doing that your entire life.”

Jasmine smoothed down her ruined skirt. “What color do you think my wedding gown should be?”

Charlotte’s eyes filled with tears. “Another of my babies is getting married.” She reached across the carriage and took Jasmine’s blistered hand in hers. “You’ll need a long bath when you get home, and some ointment for your burns, so talk about your wedding dress can wait for awhile. You’re filthy, and your hair has lost all its pins. You smell of smoke and your dress is ruined.”

George pulled his wife back to his side. “Yes, but it was because of Jasmine’s quick thinking Parr managed to emerge from the fire. Without her, he would have died in that blaze. I think a dress is a small price to pay for a human life.”

“Not just any human. My future husband. How soon do you think we can marry?”

Charlotte dried her tears. “Let’s leave that discussion for another day, shall we? We’re all in need of a hot bath and some sleep.”

Jasmine leaned back into a corner of the carriage. She would need to write to Heather in the morning about the fire and her adventure, pulling her soon-to-be husband from the wreckage just before it collapsed. Her twin would be happy that she’d found the same kind of love that Heather had, even though the man didn’t come with a title. With a sigh, Jasmine closed her eyes. No title, maybe, but he provided the kind of love she’d always dreamed about. He aroused in her such passion, something Alistair never had been able to do. Whatever had she been thinking? She needed intense emotion in her life. Without it, she would shrivel up and become an old crone. Yes, she’d take a passionate marriage over a titled one any day. She couldn’t wait to be with Parr again.

The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the Fitzpatrick brownstone. Even though it was after 3:00
A.M.
, lights blazed inside the house. Puzzled that anyone was up at this hour, Jasmine and her parents quickly alighted and sent the carriage on its way. Colleen met them at the door.

“I was beginning to tink you’d never get home,” she declared as she helped Charlotte with her coat and then turned to Jasmine. “Ach, my wee one, what have you been doing?”

George handed Colleen his top hat before leading the way into the parlor. “What my daughter has been doing was rescuing Parr from a burning building, that’s what. I’m so proud of her.”

Colleen’s hand went to her mouth. “For the love of God! Is he all right?”

Jasmine’s face split into an ear-to-ear grin. “He’s a bit charred, but as fine as any future husband of mine could be expected to be.”

“Saints preserve us.” Colleen’s eyes widened. “How did that happen?” She grabbed Jasmine in a hug. “It’s what I had hoped for all along, but you seemed so determined not to follow your heart.”

“He went back into that burning building just to retrieve the cap I gave him, can you believe it? The foolish man.” Jasmine giggled. “How could I possibly deny my feelings for him any longer?”

George glanced around the brightly lit room. “But why are you still up? And why is every lamp in the house burning?”

“Ach, I plumb forgot, what with all your news. But a telegram came tonight, shortly after you left for the party. It’s from Mr. Basil, in St. Louis, and I’ve been worried sick about its contents. I can’t sleep until I know your son is safe.” She handed the telegram to George.

He ripped open the envelope and quickly scanned the missive before handing it to his wife. “All is well, Colleen. Basil is getting married in three days’ time, and wants Charlotte and me to come to St. Louis for the ceremony.”

“To whom?” Jasmine grabbed the telegram to read it for herself.

“That lovely girl who helped deliver our daughter Ginger’s baby last fall. Oh, I couldn’t be more pleased,” Charlotte wailed. “But another of my children is going to be wed.”

George patted her hand. “Now, Charlotte, that only means we’ve done our job well. And we can look forward to more grandchildren.”

Jasmine raised her eyes from the telegram. “He’s going to bring her to New York directly after the wedding so she can attend the first ball of the season. She’ll need a dress.”

Charlotte laughed. “Of course, dear. Now you’ll have two dresses to work on over the next few weeks. Oh, I must get some sleep, so we can pack our suitcases and get on the train tomorrow.”

“But how can I design a dress for someone I’ve never met?”

“Ginger described this girl, Temperance, in her last letter. You can find it and read it over again in the morning. That should give you some insight.”

“Mother, you must bring Heather back to New York along with Basil and his bride, so she can attend my wedding. I want her to be my matron of honor.”

Colleen ran a hand across her forehead and blew out a long breath. “So all is well, but the lot of you are surely a fright. I’ll go and get baths ready for you. And then, I suggest we all get to bed.”

Jasmine mounted the stairs to her third floor bedroom. It would take a while to get the water heated for a bath, and in the meantime, she already had an idea for her wedding gown. Ivory silk stain brocade with an overlay of satin around the front of the skirt. Lace cuffs that matched the lace veil. Possibly some ruching in the back to create a pleasing appearance to the guests who would be staring at her backside during the ceremony. And some satin wedding boots with pearl buttons. Ah, yes, there were a million options, and she must get started. Sleep could wait.

• • •

A late breakfast was barely underway at the Fitzpatrick household when Alistair sent around a message that he would be arriving within the hour. He had an urgent matter to discuss with all of them.

He pulled up at the Fitzpatrick brownstone shortly thereafter. The butler opened the door and escorted Alistair, Parr, and Lydia Smith into the parlor, where Jasmine, George, and Charlotte waited.

Jasmine’s eyes lit up as she greeted Parr with a kiss, but narrowed when she noticed Lydia. “I thought you were about to discuss an urgent matter, Alistair.”

“And I am. It involves everyone in this room. Mrs. Smith has agreed to marry me, so my news will affect her as well as you.”

Jasmine and Charlotte gave a collective gasp as their heads bobbed Lydia’s way. She was staring at Alistair, love etched on her face.

“Well, do get on with it, Alistair,” George replied. “Charlotte and I have a train to catch in a few hours.”

“All right then. May I suggest we all take a seat? What I have to say will surely come as a surprise.”

With excited murmurs, everyone sat down and a tea tray was brought into the room for the guests. As soon as everyone was settled, Alistair rose and cleared his throat.

“My news has to do mostly with Parr.” He glanced at the young man, who was now cleaned up from his brush with the fire, although his clothes didn’t fit him too well, since they were from Alistair’s armoire. His hair was singed from the blaze and he still smelled slightly of smoke.

Parr returned his gaze, with a question in his eyes.

“I’ve been asked the question repeatedly as to why I made you a full partner in our business rather than offer you merely a salary to be my head man of the stable.”

“I’ve asked meself the very same question, Alistair, many times over.”

“The answer is because I didn’t randomly pick you out of the crowd at the races the day we met. I was searching specifically for you. Your dear mother sent me a letter just prior to her death, telling me about you for the first time. You’re my son, Parr.”

The color left Parr’s face, and he gulped noticeably. “You’re my da? But how?”

“I spent a summer in Ireland following the completion of my education at Eton. I met your mother, Rose, there, and had a glorious time with her. But my father called me back home and I had to leave. I had no idea she was with child. I went on to marry my wife, who, as you know, died in childbirth. It wasn’t until after my wife’s death that Rose sent me the letter telling me about you. And about her illness. I was grieving and didn’t come for you right away, but when I decided to get on with my life, I could see no way to continue without having you as a part of it.”

“You never knew about me?”

“Never. I swear. Do you think I would have ignored you all these years, had I known about you?”

“But you’re a titled English lord, and I’m not the first bastard to grace this earth by the likes of noblemen. ’Tis not too much of a stretch to believe that.”

“No, you’re not, that’s true. But I prefer to think I’m not cut from the same cloth as everyone else. I held off telling you until now, because I wanted to see the man you’ve become. But last night, when we nearly lost you, I realized I had to tell you.”

Parr nodded. “I’m glad you did. It explains so many things. I wasn’t dropped in the middle of the forest for me mother to find.”

Alistair smiled. “No, but she did name you correctly.”

Parr grinned. “You mean the stable?”

Alistair nodded. Charlotte and George appeared confused as they tried to follow the conversation. Jasmine smiled.

“I plan to claim you as my rightful son to the King of England, and to place you in line to eventually take over as the Duke of Foxborough someday. That’s where Lydia comes in. She told me last night she wants to try to have a child, so I had to let her know that the first-born has already happened.”