He was returning the favor now, and the next hour gave Jack ample opportunity to think back on his childhood in Paris, before the happiness that filled his days had been crushed by the agonizing loss of his mother and the gruesome manner of her death, followed by his terrifying period of captivity.
The intervening years had helped Jack to distance himself from the pain, as had his reunion with his father, which was chiefly due to Sophie.
Recalling his mother’s joy each time his father arrived home after a long absence in Navartania reminded Jack of the joy he felt now, being wed to the lover of his heart. It was no surprise, therefore, that his heart rate quickened when Sophie arrived a short while later. Her passion-swollen lips were clear evidence of how they had spent their wedding night, but it was the unmistakable look of love in her eyes that made his breath catch.
She was accompanied by his entire family, who were still intent on rallying around him, Jack realized. Kate, Skye, and Lady Isabella had been escorted by Quinn and their Uncle Cornelius. Mrs. Pennant had come also, for she wanted to meet the prince and to wish him well.
Oddly enough, the cantankerous elderly widow seemed to get along well with the reclusive scholar, Lord Cornelius, despite their nearly twenty-year difference in age.
In deference to the sleeping invalid, the Wildes remained in the corridor outside his hospital room and conversed in hushed whispers, trying to remain quiet. But it was impossible to completely stifle their laughter as Kate and Skye told Mrs. Pennant of the cousins’ upbringing under the bewildered supervision of their flustered bachelor uncle.
When the prince eventually woke to find Jack and Sophie sitting by his bedside, tears welled in his eyes. But when he saw the entire Wilde clan file into the room, his look turned to wary confusion.
“You may regret reconciling with me, your highness,” Jack warned with a wry smile. “Claiming me for your son means being saddled with my kin also.”
The prince managed a faint smile in return. “I will gladly bear such an affliction, mon cher fils.”
Mrs. Pennant was then granted her introduction to his highness. When even on his sickbed, Prince Raoul insisted on kissing the elderly lady’s hand, his polite gallantry brought a blush to her wrinkled cheeks.
“I see where Lord Jack gets his charm,” Mrs. Pennant observed tartly. “You may be royalty, your highness, but the both of you are seductive rogues.”
A short time later, a hospital orderly came in to administer another dose of laudanum to the invalid. When Prince Raoul’s eyelids started drooping, Sophie ushered the others from the room to give Jack a final moment alone with his father.
After a few more quiet words of encouragement, Jack gently squeezed his father’s hand and took his leave. He found his family gathered on the front steps of the hospital, awaiting their carriages and discussing the Arundel Home for Unwed Mothers, of all things. Apparently his secret had been exposed by Mrs. Pennant.
“You may be pleased to know that I am following your worthy example, Lord Jack, and making a significant contribution to the Home at Sophie’s behest,” she declared, her eyes alive with calculating amusement. “Naturally Oliver is indignant, but how I choose to spend my fortune is none of his concern. And Rebecca heartily approves. She is regaining her health by the day and finally putting her foot down with Oliver, much to my relief.”
When Sophie and Jack shared an intimate smile at the image of her parents’ evolving relationship, Kate noticed and turned the subject to legendary lovers, explaining to Mrs. Pennant about her romantic theory.
Both Kate and Skye preened at having found a match for Jack as Romeo, but complained that Quinn was still clinging to his cynicism and resisting their efforts mightily.
“You must admit that Maura has been very good for Ash,” Kate prodded Quinn, “and that Jack and Sophie are perfect for each other.”
“I’ll admit nothing of the kind,” he said, smiling sardonically. “It is far too soon to tell whether their present zeal will last.”
“Oh, it will last,” Jack declared, sending a ribbing grin at Quinn. “You had best watch yourself, cousin. Kate and Skye have been plotting your downfall for months, and they are likely to win.”
“I am well able to handle my own amorous affairs.”
“Famous last words,” Jack said, not hiding his amusement. “I made exactly the same protest—but I am very glad to have been proven wrong.”
Mrs. Pennant eyed Kate curiously and asked what other legends were forthcoming.
“I have a Greek myth in mind for Quinn,” Kate replied. “Possibly Ovid’s tale of Pygmalion and Galatea. And since I have enough similarities to Katharine in Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew, I predict I will end up with that. But regrettably, I have not yet come up with a good match for Skye.”
“You needn’t worry about me,” Skye murmured. “I am working on my own plan.”
Her quiet, almost secretive smile made Jack wonder what she was concealing. When he raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her, Skye moved closer and whispered to him.
“My story may be a French fairy tale, about a beast and a beauty. And I may have unearthed a romance for Uncle Cornelius as well. You know Uncle never married because he suffered a tragic love affair in his younger days, but he deserves a chance at happiness, don’t you think?”
For once Jack was willing to agree with Skye’s romantic ideals, so he refrained from ordering her to mind her own business, as he would have done barely a few weeks ago.
Shortly,
the Wildes said their farewells and climbed into their various vehicles to go their separate ways. Settling in his own carriage with Sophie, Jack removed her bonnet, then slid his arms around her waist from behind and drew her back against his chest.
“Thank you,” he said, nuzzling her neck with his lips.