Wicked Liaison - Meara Platt Page 0,220

time been his grandmother’s constant companions. If she had real friends with her, she’d not need to invent an invisible one, and maybe he could keep her in the present reality longer, before it was too late and she forgot them all to live in a world of her imagination, as was the likely outcome, based on all that he’d read.

“Yes. Yes. Jonathan. He would be perfect.”

Wesley could no longer remain in the corridor listening to his grandmother lose her hold on reality. “Who would be perfect, Grandmother?” he asked as he stepped into the parlor.

She blinked at him. “Just thinking aloud, dear.” Then she smiled. “Please join me for tea.”

A footman entered, almost on Wesley’s heels and settled the tea service on the table between them. It was Wesley who poured as he’d been doing for some time now since Grandmother’s hands pained her and lifting the pot was simply too much.

“Who is Jonathan?” He had to know if his grandmother truly believed a person was in the room with her.

She took a hasty drink then settled the cup on the saucer, as her smile fell. “You’ll think me silly.”

He’d never seen Grandmother defeated. Perhaps he shouldn’t press, but Wesley was concerned. “I could never think such a thing,” he assured her.

“Jonathan is the man I love. The only man I’ve ever loved and sometimes I like to talk to him.”

Only man. What about his grandfather? Hadn’t they loved one another?

However, that wasn’t nearly as concerning as his grandmother’s wavering grip on reality.

“What happened to him?”

“He died.” She smiled sadly at somebody over Wesley’s shoulder.

He glanced behind but nobody was there.

“A mere fortnight before we were to wed.”

Maybe his grandmother wasn’t slipping into madness. Maybe it was a comfort. She acknowledged that her love was dead, so was it any different than praying? Many found comfort in prayers to a Biblical God. Perhaps this wasn’t so different, which gave him a margin of hope.

“When do you plan on leaving for Hollybrook Park?” Grandmother asked suddenly as if she wished to change the topic.

“I’m not attending Somerton’s wedding. I thought I’d mentioned it previously.” As his father and sister would be in attendance, Wesley didn’t feel it was necessary that he go. Besides, as it was being held at Miranda’s home, he thought it best not to plague her with his presence. As she’d not returned to the ball as promised, and the excuses for her absence, made by her siblings, were vague and flimsy at best, he’d concluded that he’d overstepped when he thoroughly kissed her, thus ruining the friendship they’d once shared. It was the only reasonable conclusion.

“But you must,” Grandmother insisted.

“I don’t think Somerton will care if I’m there or not,” he chuckled. Somerton only cared about the bedding, not the wedding. At least, that is what his friend had grumbled about when he learned that the wedding was to be put off for three months.

“You told Viscount Lynwood that you, your father and Lucinda would be in attendance. It would be impolite not to attend. Think of all the planning they’ve gone to and the numbers they expect.” She frowned at him. “It’s not well-done of you to renege at this late date.”

Wesley blinked at her. He hadn’t been scolded on how one behaved in polite society in some time.

“It is the same as I told your father.” She wagged a finger at him. “I’m disappointed in both of you.”

“Father isn’t attending?” This was the first that Wesley had learned of the decision.

“He feels he has more important matters to attend to here.” She snorted. “Further, he advised that you could represent the family as well as watch over Lucinda.”

“If father isn’t going, I don’t see that it is necessary that I or my sister do either,” Wesley argued.

It wasn’t that he wished to avoid the wedding. It was because he wasn’t yet over his obsession for Miranda and he hoped that his desire for her waned by next spring. Though, he wondered if it would even happen by then because he could still vividly recall the most incredible melding of mouths he’d ever experienced. And, his heart still ached for her. But such love was not to be. At least not for him.

“Your father responded that there will be three guests at the wedding,” his grandmother argued. “Therefore, as your father will not be attending, I shall go in his place, and I’ll even play chaperone to Lucinda.”

Wesley blinked at her. His grandmother rarely left

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