Society Wives: Secret Lives: The Rags-To-Riches Wife

“Please, Lily,” Courtney began from her seat beside Lily. She grabbed Lily’s hand and Jack recognized the look Courtney offered up to Lily. His baby sister had used that same sad-eyed look on him to get her way from the time she could walk. “Say you’ll do the wedding here, Lily. Please.”

“I hate to see everyone go to so much trouble,” Lily told her.

“It won’t be any trouble at all,” Courtney said. “Will it, Mother?”

“None whatsoever.”

“We can use Felicity Farnsworth. She’s a wedding planner,” Courtney explained. “She’s handling Emma Dearborn and Reed Kelly’s wedding for them and I heard Emma say at the club last week that she turned over all the details for the wedding to Felicity and that she’s doing a fabulous job.”

“That’s an excellent idea. I’ll call Emma’s mother and see if she can get Felicity today. We have a lot to do. I don’t think we can afford to wait until tomorrow to get started.” She looked over at Lily. “Lily, you’ll need to tell me what flowers you like and—“

“Hang on a second, Mother,” Jack said before things went any further. “I haven’t heard Lily agree to any of this yet.” He looked over at Lily. “What do you think? Are you okay about having the wedding here? Because if you’re not, all you have to do is say so.”

Lily looked around the table at the four pairs of eyes trained on her, then back to him. “I’m okay with it.”

“Good, then I’ll see if I can reach Mrs. Dearborn for Felicity’s number. In the meantime, you and I will need to work on a guest list and a menu,” his mother told Lily. “I’m thinking mini beef Wellingtons, a pasta station and maybe I could make some mini spinach quiches—“

“No,” Jack said in unison with his father and both of his sisters. The joint protest did what none of them singularly could have done. It stopped his mother cold.

“But you all loved my spinach quiche. What about you, Lily? Do you like spinach quiche?”

“I … um … I’m not really a spinach fan,” she said and dropped her gaze.

Jack smiled, proud of Lily and not at all surprised that she learned fast. “You heard Lily, mother. The bride doesn’t like spinach quiche.”

“Well, I could do a quiche Lorraine instead,” his mother suggested.

“Darling, you’re going to have far too much to do to bother with cooking,” his father told her. “Why don’t we let Alice and the caterers handle the food?”

She seemed to consider that a moment. “You’re probably right. We do have a lot to do and not much time to do it. Courtney, would you see if you can get Mrs. Dearborn on the phone for me? And, Elizabeth, could you get me a notepad and a pen?” She stood and placed her napkin on the table. “Lily and Jack, let’s go into the library and start making a list. John, would you tell Alice we’ll have coffee and dessert there?”

“Of course.”

The rest of them pushed their chairs away from the table and stood. Jack walked around the table to Lily. She had a glazed look in her eyes and he could only imagine how overwhelmed she must be. He reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Sandra, why don’t you ladies go ahead and get started?” John said. “I’d like to have a word with Jack.”

Once his mother, Lily and his sisters had left the dining room, Jack waited for his father to return from the kitchen where he’d passed along the instructions to Alice. He hadn’t been surprised that his father wanted to speak with him. He had hit his parents with the news about Lily’s pregnancy and announced their plans to marry only the previous morning. Both of them had been shocked, but there had been no recriminations, no lectures—only their unconditional support and love. Yet he hadn’t missed the concern in his father’s eyes.

“Why don’t we go outside so I can smoke a cigar,” his father suggested when he returned to the dining room. “Your mother doesn’t like me smelling up the place.”

“Mother doesn’t like you smoking those at all,” Jack reminded him.

His father shrugged. “It’s my only vice.”

It was true, Jack thought. His father truly was a good man, an honest man who was devoted to his wife and family. It had been his father who had made him want to follow in his footsteps and study law. It had been his father who had taught him responsibility. And it was because of the lessons that John Cartwright had taught him that he’d known that marrying Lily was the right thing to do.

Once he’d lit his cigar, his father said, “Let’s walk a bit.”

Located on five acres, his parents’ home looked like what it was—a wealthy family’s estate. In addition to the five bedrooms and seven baths, the fourteen-thousand-square-foot house had every amenity: five fireplaces, a library, a billiard room, garden room and a gourmet kitchen. The place even boasted tennis courts, a pool and a pool house with a full kitchen, living room, bedroom and Japanese bath. Yet, his parents had managed to make the place a real home, welcoming and warm. He hoped Lily had found both his family and their home that way.

“Lily seems like a nice girl,” his father said as he puffed on the cigar.

“She is,” Jack told him. “She was pretty nervous about coming here today and meeting you. I think she expected you all to resent her for what’s happening. So I appreciate how kind you’ve been under the circumstances.”

“I don’t see any reason why we should resent her. She didn’t make this baby by herself.”

“No, she didn’t,” Jack said. He had to give his parents credit. Since he’d dropped the bombshell yesterday about Lily’s pregnancy and his intention to marry her, his parents had offered no recriminations or unsolicited advice. The only thing either of them had asked was whether he was sure the child was his. Once he had assured them it was, they had simply asked how they could help.

His father followed the path toward the small stream that ran along the property. Growing up, he had often walked this path with his father. It had been at the stream that his father had first told him the facts of life. It was here that his father had spoken to him about women and responsibility. It was at the stream that he had first told his father that he wanted to be a lawyer like him. Jack knew his father had wanted to come here for a reason. So he waited, knowing his father would tell him what was on his mind when he was ready.

“I had a call from Tom Carlton last night,” he began. “He said he landed another major backer for the Cartwright for Senate Campaign. All he’s waiting for is the word from you to announce your candidacy.”

“Yes, I heard. He left me a message,” Jack said, remembering the voice mails left at his office and his home. He had yet to call Carlton back.

“He was concerned because he hadn’t heard back from you and wanted to know how to get in touch with you. I told him we were expecting you today and I’d have you call him.”

“I’ll give him a call when we get back to the house.”

His father took another puff on his cigar. “You given any thought to how your marriage to Lily might affect your political plans?”

“I’m still not sure what my political plans are. But other than finding out Lily’s feelings on the subject of me running for office, I don’t see why my marriage has anything to do with it.”

“It shouldn’t,” his father told him. “But Connecticut is a conservative state. And Tom Carlton and his group are right at the top of the conservative train. They pride themselves on their heritage and strong family values. They like their candidates and their candidates’ families to fit the same bill. And as nice as I think Lily is, she might not be what they consider the proper wife for a senator. This unplanned pregnancy and quickie wedding might not sit well with them either.”

Jack scowled. “Then that’s their problem, not mine. Lily wasn’t born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She’s overcome enormous odds and made something of herself. So what you, Carlton or anyone else thinks of her suitability doesn’t matter. I’m not embarrassed by her background. I’m proud of her for not allowing it to hold her back. And nothing you or anyone else says will make me feel otherwise.”

“If it did, then you wouldn’t be the man I thought you were,” his father said.

“If you feel that way, then why the lecture?”

“Because I think you need to be prepared for people’s reaction to your marriage to Lily. There are a lot of small-minded people, even in Eastwick, who will think she trapped you into this marriage and that you’re ruining your political future.”

“The only opinions that matter to me are my family’s,” Jack told him.

His father nodded and they continued to walk in silence. Yet his father’s words reminded him of the blackmail note he’d found in his pocket a week ago. He’d dismissed it and would do so again, he admitted. But listening to his father’s warnings now made him wonder who the author had been. He’d learned from Lily that it had been Bunny Baldwin who had given her the ticket to the ball. As the publisher of the Eastwick Social Diary and a maven for gossip, he wouldn’t have put it past Bunny to have discovered that he was the father of Lily’s baby. But the blackmail note had shown up after Bunny was dead, and unless Bunny’s ghost had decided to shake him down for cash, it had to be someone else.

Maybe someone Bunny had told?

Jack frowned. The note had appeared while he was at Abby Talbot’s home. Abby was Bunny’s daughter and the pair had been close. It was conceivable that Bunny had told Abby. Despite the fact that Bunny had always spoken highly of this counselor named Lily Miller, the scandal would have been hard for Bunny to ignore. In fact, it was just the sort of dirt that filled the pages of the Diary.

He recalled how distraught Abby had been following her mother’s death. Too distraught to execute a blackmail plan, he reasoned. Besides, Abby simply didn’t strike him as a blackmailer. Her husband, Luke, was another matter. An image of Luke on the day of the funeral, slipping away and disappearing into another part of the house, coming outdoors to speak on his cell phone, came to mind. While the fellow was pleasant enough, there was something different about him—something that Jack couldn’t quite put his finger on. The man had always struck him as a loner, but it went beyond that. Luke Talbot was … secretive. Maybe Abby had repeated what Bunny had told her to Luke in pillow talk. For that matter, Abby could easily have mentioned it to the Debs Club.

Jack thought about the five women given the nickname by the country club years ago. They were a close bunch and they had all been at the black-and-white ball. If Bunny had told Abby about him and Lily, Abby could have easily mentioned it to her friends at one of their luncheons. He thought about the other four women now—Emma Dearborn, Mary Duvall, Vanessa Thorpe and Felicity Farnsworth. All of them had been at Abby’s house following the funeral. As he thought about the violet-eyed Emma Dearborn, he couldn’t see her as a blackmailer. The woman had her own money. She had a successful art gallery and she was engaged to Reed Kelly. Where was the motive? As for Mary Duvall, the one-time wild child of the Duvall family had undergone a metamorphosis since her grandfather David’s stroke. She’d become devoted to the older man—hardly the actions of a blackmailer.

That left Vanessa Thorpe and Felicity Farnsworth. Stuart’s death had left his much younger wife, Vanessa, set for life. He could see no reason for the petite blonde to resort to blackmail. And as for Felicity Farnsworth. He had heard she’d had financial troubles following her divorce a number of years back. But from all accounts her wedding-planning business was doing great. If the lady was the blackmailer, she certainly didn’t act like one.

“You think Lily knows what a hornet’s nest your marriage and her pregnancy are going to stir up?”