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Authors: Maureen Driscoll

Tags: #Historical, #Suspense

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BOOK: Never a Mistress, No Longer a Maid
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“The kiss meant nothing.  It was just a physical act.”

“Like what we did last night was just a physical act?  I
suppose you think me a wanton and that I deserve this humiliation.” she asked
softly.

The pain in her voice sliced into his heart.  It hadn’t been
just a physical act with her.  Not last night.  Not at the assembly.  Not in
Belgium.                

“Jane, last night was amazing and beautiful.  You were a
wanton in the very best sense.  I’m honored that you were with me and when I
woke today I wanted to tell you how much it meant.  I have to straighten out
this mess with Madeleine.  But please give me time to prove myself when that’s
done.”

She looked at him, the hurt still in her eyes.

“I’ll go with you to London, my lord.  But I do so only because
of my concern for Vi.  Regardless of what happens between you and Madeleine, I
believe it best if we terminate our…friendship.”

With that, she walked away.  And Ned wondered how a heart
could hurt this much.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ned’s carriage was everything Jane thought it would be. 
New, well-sprung with a plush interior and quite large.  But Jane had a feeling
it’d feel all too cramped, considering who the company would be.

Vi was in alt.  Not only was she going on a journey, which
would’ve been exciting enough regardless of the destination, she was going to
London with her hero Ned.  From the moment of her near abduction to their
departure in the morning, Ned had barely let either of them out of his sight. 
But in the few moments when Jane and Vi had been alone, Vi had extolled his
virtues:  brave, handsome, kind, funny,
very
handsome, intelligent, an
excellent climber of trees – Jane wanted to dispute that point since he’d
fallen out of the one tree she’d seen him climb – honest, trustworthy, royal
(or at least she thought he might well be) and very,
very
handsome. 

“Perhaps, Mama, he is taking us away to a castle and we’ll
live with him, always.”

Jane told her daughter in no uncertain terms that she should
expect no castle and at the end of the journey, they would once again live in
their own house in Marston Vale and Ned would live wherever it was he chose to
go.  And Jane had a feeling it wouldn’t be Marston Vale.

After their luggage had been loaded into a rented carriage,
which also carried Rigg, Ned lifted a giddy Vi into the main carriage, then
offered his assistance to Jane.  She knew from experience that even the simple
act of placing her hand in his caused a lamentable reaction on her part, so she
ignored his assistance and tried to climb into the carriage by herself.   Unfortunately,
her skirt caught on the step and before she could do anything about it, he’d
bent to release it, brushing her ankle as he did so.  That so-called innocent
touch coupled with his hand at her waist affected Jane much more than if she’d
given him her hand in the first place. 

It was a mistake she wouldn’t make again.

He followed her into the carriage with a cocky grin on his
face – dratted man was much too attuned to her reactions – then he took the
seat opposite Jane and Vi.  He rapped on the ceiling and they were on their
way.

“Why are you taking us to London?” Vi asked Ned.

“Your Mama has some business to take care of, so since I was
also going to London, I thought I’d take you with me.”

“I’m glad you did.  I should like to see London for the
first time with you.”

“Sweeting,” said her mother as she pulled out a book, “it’s
time for your lessons.”

“But we’re on holiday!”

“That doesn’t mean we can skip our studies.”

“Ned, do you think I should have to do lessons on holiday?”

Whether Ned thought so or not (and he thought not), he knew
better than to push Jane on this subject, so he said there’d be a special treat
when they stopped for luncheon if Vi obeyed her mama and tended to her lessons.

The bribe seemed to work, because Vi began reading aloud to
her mother.  He was pleased to learn she was a very good reader.  Then there
was a lesson in sums, followed by geography.  Three hours into the journey, Vi
finally settled down for a nap, lying with her head in her mother’s lap. 

Jane cleared her throat.  “I’d be much obliged if you could
drop us at a hotel when we reach London.”

“You won’t be staying at a hotel.”

“Where else would you suggest?  We have no relations with
which we can stay.”

“You’ll stay with me.”

“We’ll stay in a hotel.”

 “Absolutely not.  I couldn’t ensure your safety at a
hotel.  You’ll stay at Lynwood House.” 

Of course, even as he said the words, he wasn’t quite sure
they’d turn out to be true.   Lynwood would never allow an unmarried woman with
a child to stay with them, especially with Elizabeth in residence.  Plus, Liam
was bound to ask too many questions, answers for which were in criminally short
supply at present. 

Life was so complicated at times.

Vi was now awake and looking out the window.

“A storm is coming.”

*                    *                    *

A storm did come, filling the road with mud.  Ned had hoped
to make it to the Laughing Boar, the inn he’d stayed at on his way to Marston Vale,
but they had no choice except to stop at the Pig and Whistle, an establishment
he wasn’t familiar with.  The courtyard was filled with carriages, which was
usually a good sign.  But in this case, he wasn’t sure if it was the inn’s
quality that attracted them or simply the need to get out of the storm. 

“I’ll check on the availability of rooms.” he said as he
ducked out into the rain.

Vi squeezed her mother’s hand.  “I like Ned.  I like having
a friend.”

Jane’s heart clenched.  They had very few friends and seldom
had visitors.  While Jane got along well with the tenants and laborers in the
village, class was still the determining factor when it came to socializing. 
She would’ve gladly welcomed the blacksmith’s wife for tea or the farmers’
wives, but they were the ones who felt uncomfortable crossing the line.  Jane
had attended a sewing circle at one of the cottages and the hostess had felt so
obligated to offer her the best food of what little they had, that Jane didn’t
want to put anyone in that position again.

The door to the carriage opened and a damp Ned got in again. 
From the look on his face, the news wasn’t good.

“The storm has resulted in a great deal more business for
the Pig and Whistle than it can handle.”

“You mean we have to go on?” asked Jane.

“I don’t think we can.  A river washed out the road a bit
further south.  We must stay here, but the innkeeper only has one room.”

“But where will you sleep?” asked Jane.

“In the room I’ve just paid a most exorbitant rent for.”

“Oh.”  Jane looked around the carriage.  It certainly wouldn’t
afford her the best night’s rest she’d ever had, but at least it was dry.

“We’re going to play a game,” said Ned.

“I love games!” said Vi.

“It’s a make-believe game.  We’re going to pretend your mama
is your mama.”

“We don’t have to pretend that,” said Vi, profoundly disappointed
in the quite unimaginative game.

“That’s right.  We don’t have to pretend about that.  But we
will have to pretend I’m your papa.”

Vi clapped her hands in approval of the much-improved game.

“Absolutely not!” said her mother.

“Jane, the only way we’ll all be able to share the room is
to pretend you’re my wife and Vi is my…”  He looked at the girl with his green eyes
and the radiant smile.  “…and that Vi is my daughter.”

“Please, Mama!  It’ll be so much fun!  I’ve never pretended
to have a papa.”

“We shall be perfectly fine in the carriage.”

“No you won’t.” said Ned firmly.  “I cannot leave you
unattended out here.  As it is, my servants will be forced to sleep in the
stables.  I can’t sleep in relative comfort while all of you are suffering.”

“Then you can sleep in the carriage and we’ll take the
room.”

“Ahh, I cannot allow that to happen, either.  I’ve already lost
enough sleep since coming to Marston Vale.”

“Please, Mama, please?  I’ve never stayed at an inn!”

“Never?” asked Ned.  “Well, then you stand less of a chance
of disappointment than those of us who have.”

Jane wondered just how many inns Ned had stayed at and with
whom, then chased the unhelpful thought out of her head by agreeing to the
idiotish plan.

“For tonight and tonight alone, we shall pretend that Ned
and I are married and you are our daughter.”

Vi was beside herself with joy.

“I have registered us as Mr. and Mrs. Johnston,” he said
with a wink.

Of course, he wouldn’t register them under his own name,
thought Jane.  And curse the man for thinking this was all a lark by using the
alias she’d used in Belgium.

Ned stepped out of the carriage, then leaned back in.

“Shall we go?”

“Yes!” said Vi, as she slipped her hand in his.

Ned looked at their hands together, then met Jane’s eyes. 
Without another word, he lifted Vi into his arms, helped Jane climb out, then
ran to the inn.

*                  *                    *

Ned wondered if he’d ever been as innocent as Vi.  The
girl’s eyes had been wide as saucers from the moment they’d entered the inn all
the way to the present, where they were seated at a table in their cramped room
– which Vi had pronounced “grand and cozy” – eating pie which the innkeeper
said was pheasant, but was optimistically pigeon, with a variety of other
possibilities further down the food chain.

Vi had been a non-stop source of chatter, which was good
because it seemed he and her mother had very little to say to each other.   An
hour after arriving, at the end of a very long day, Vi finally showed signs of
tiring.  Ned rang to have the table taken away as Jane pulled out the trundle
bed.

Vi looked at it excitedly.  “Is that my bed, Papa?”

“Vi,” said Jane, more sternly than necessary.  “You don’t
have to call him Papa when no one else is around.”

“But I like saying it.”  She smiled shyly at Ned.  “Do you
like it, too, Papa?”

Ned liked it very much, indeed.  Much more than he should,
given their precarious state of affairs.  But he didn’t want to antagonize Jane
any further.

“Anyone would be proud to be your papa, poppet,” he said.

“Then will you let me sleep on the bed?  You can sleep with
Mama.”

“Ned is looking forward to sleeping on the smaller bed,”
said Jane, because the alternative was too ghastly to consider.

“Please?  May I please sleep in the little bed?  I’ll feel
like a princess with a bed made just for me.”

Vi proved impossible to resist.

“All right, Princess, you have your wish for tonight,” said
Ned to Vi’s delight. 

Her mother was decidedly less thrilled and motioned for him
to join her on the other side of the room.  Given the size of their quarters,
Jane lowered her voice to a whisper.

“What can you be thinking to suggest such a thing?”

“I’m thinking every girl should have the chance to think
she’s a princess.  And I’m not in the habit of saying no to ladies of any age.”

“While I’m sure that’s true, you and I can’t share a bed,”
said Jane trying to ignore his grin.  “It’s most improper.”

“Do I need to remind you we’ve done that very thing on more
than one occasion?”

“No, you don’t need to remind me,” she hissed.  “But you’re
engaged.”

“The event with Miss Merriman isn’t an engagement. It’s a
misunderstanding which I hope to clear up soon.  As for tonight, your daughter
will be sleeping but a few feet away from us.  In addition, I’m on the verge of
exhaustion after sleeping only fitfully at best last night and enduring the
entire day in the carriage on roads that were more rut than path.  I promise you’ll
be safe from me.”

What Ned didn’t say was that if Vi hadn’t been in the room,
no amount of exhaustion would’ve dissuaded him from picking up where they’d left
off in his bed two nights previous. 

Jane looked like she wanted to argue more, but Vi was already
ensconced on the small bed.     

“Very well, but I’m not happy.”

“Noted for future reference.  I’ll go downstairs to drink
what I’m sure will be overpriced swill that will make my head ache for the rest
of the journey, so you ladies can get ready for bed.”

“Thank you.  I shall be asleep by the time you get back,”
lied Jane, knowing she wouldn’t sleep a wink the entire night lying next to him.

*                    *                *   

Lying in bed wearing the same night rail from two evenings
past, Jane’s head was filled with nothing but improper thoughts.  Thank heavens
Vi was with them.  Her daughter was a heavy sleeper and wouldn’t stir until
morning, but her very presence would prevent Jane and Ned from making any more of
those terrible mistakes that were currently running through her head in vivid
detail.

In the few moments of the past day and a half when Jane
hadn’t been consumed with fear for Vi, she’d been caught up in a whirlwind of
emotions.  Leaving Ned’s bed after their amazing interlude had been one of the
hardest things she’d ever done.  She’d wanted to stay with him, have him come
inside her and spend the rest of the night in his arms.  But too much was at
stake.  She had to stay strong.  And it was just as well she’d left.  It had
hurt when she’d learned he’d kissed Madeleine Merriman.  She had no doubt Madeleine
had tried to trap him, but it was a vivid reminder that women would always
throw themselves at Ned Kellington.

It was too much to hope that any man would always resist. 
And she couldn’t stand the pain if he didn’t.

He’d been gone quite some time.  She began to wonder if he’d
met someone in the tap.  Perhaps one of the maids who served ale.  Jane had
seen one of them look at Ned appraisingly when they’d arrived.  Maybe one of
them had lured him to her room.  Likely it wouldn’t take much luring.  She’d
simply have to smile and show a little ankle and Ned would happily forsake her and
Vi for the night.  

But just then the door opened and Jane tried to steady her
breathing so Ned would think she was asleep.  He very quietly shut the door and
locked it, then dug through his valise.  By moonlight, Jane saw him step behind
the screen.  She heard the rustle of his clothes as he took them off.  She
hadn’t been prepared for this.  Just knowing he was in the room, undressing, was
more than she could handle.  She wasn’t sure she could sleep next to a man in
his nightshirt.  Hopefully he was coming to bed in his nightshirt, but he
hadn’t been wearing one the other night.  Dear God, what was he going to wear
to bed? 

She felt the bed sag as he climbed in.  As the mattress
tilted, she slid into him and all breath left her body.  He was wearing
something, but she didn’t want to examine the situation too closely to find out
exactly what.  From his sudden stillness, he wasn’t wholly unaffected by her,
either.  Now Jane had to figure out how to crawl back to her side of the bed
when she was supposedly asleep.  She slowly turned away from him, then felt his
warm breath against her ear.

BOOK: Never a Mistress, No Longer a Maid
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