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Authors: Maureen Driscoll

Tags: #Historical, #Suspense

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“I told him to call off the attacks on Vi.”

“What did he say?”

“He denied any involvement,” said Ned with disgust.  “He
said he was trying to marry you off and even had a candidate in mind.”

Jane’s morning was clearly going from bad to worse.  She sank
into a chair.  “That’s ridiculous.  He can’t force me to marry.”

“What if he cuts off your funds?”

“He…he can’t do that.”

“I told our solicitor to look into it,” said Ned.  “But
whether he can or can’t, he’s already reduced them to a great extent.  You
can’t survive on what little he’s giving you.”

Jane felt a surge of panic.  Ned was right.  Her finances
were already precarious   Her grandfather had actually picked someone to marry
her, which meant he wasn’t going to stop until he got his way.

“I realize no one has asked my opinion,” said Elizabeth,
“but why can’t Ned marry Jane?  I mean, Vi is his daughter, isn’t she?”  Then
she took another big swig of brandy.  All eyes were on Lizzie, since no one
wanted to look at Ned or Jane.  Lizzie swallowed her drink.   “What?”

“It seems our idiot brother is already engaged,” said
Arthur.

“As much as I appreciate your looking out for me,” said Jane,
blushing furiously yet again, which seemed to be her constant state in Lynwood
House.  “That solution simply won’t work.  For many reasons.  If you’ll excuse
me, I should see to Vi.”

Jane left the room and everyone continued to stare at
Lizzie.

“You should have to submit all your thoughts in writing,
before being allowed to say any of them aloud,” said Arthur.

“I simply said what everyone was thinking.”

“But there’s a reason we weren’t saying it,” said Hal.

“As informative as this impromptu family meeting has been, I
should like to mull over a few points on my own.  I shall see you all at
supper,” said Lynwood as a dismissal.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jane dressed for bed shortly after putting Vi in her
nightgown.  When Vi asked for a glass of warm milk, Jane made her way down to
the kitchen.  She wasn’t used to having servants attend to her every need and
didn’t want to become too accustomed to it.  She might be living with the
Kellington family, but she wasn’t one of them.  Nor would she ever be.  She
needed to keep that firmly in mind.

When she reached the kitchen, she heard voices in the
servants’ quarters, which led her to discover that a footman by the name of
Clayton had a cough he’d been unable to get rid of.   Under the wide-eyed gaze
of the other servants, Jane had listened to the man’s chest, then announced her
plan to whip up a poultice, turning away all offers to have it done for her. 
One visit to the stillroom later, Jane was applying the poultice to a very
grateful Clayton, who kept interfering with Jane’s best efforts to keep him
lying down by trying to rise each time she spoke to him.

“I would like you to lie in bed for the next two days,
getting plenty of rest,” Jane told the man.

He looked like he’d never heard a more unusual suggestion.  “Thank
you, Miss, but I have work to do.”

“Is there any way to be excused for a short time?

Clayton looked at her as if she were barmy.

“That can be arranged, Miss.”

Jane turned to see that Heskiss had entered the room, which
seemed to alarm the other servants as much as her presence had rattled them.

“Thank you, Heskiss.”

“Thank you for tending to our staff, Miss Wetherby.  It is
most appreciated.  His grace has standing orders that a surgeon be summoned any
time someone is ill, but there’s a general predisposition against such a
measure among the servants.”

“It’s true, Miss” said Clayton.  “None of us trusts a
sawbones.  But since ye was the one who sewed up Lord Edward in Belgium and
saved his life and all, we figure ye must be a good one, Miss.”

Jane smiled at him.  “This poultice has been used to great
success on others.  I hope it helps you heal quickly.”

“I’m sure it will, Miss,” said the man, already half in love
with her.

The ever-observant Heskiss simply rolled his eyes.  “Miss
Wetherby, Cook said she has warmed the milk to just the temperature she
believes Miss Violet would like.”

“That was very kind of her,” said Jane as she walked back to
the kitchen, accompanied by the butler. 

“We’re here to serve.  In the future, if you ever need
anything you can simply ring for us.  I’ll have someone take the milk upstairs
for you.”

“Thank you, but I’m on my way back so it’ll be no trouble to
take it myself.”

Cook handed her the glass.  “This is just the way Master Edward
liked his milk, so I hope Miss Vi likes it, too.”  Cooked immediately blushed
at having voiced the connection aloud.

“Thank you both for your assistance.  You’ve been most
kind.”  Jane paused before continuing, as she looked at the two long-time
Kellington family servants.  “My daughter doesn’t yet know her connection to
Lord Edward.  We’re still trying to figure out how best to proceed.  I know our
presence here is quite irregular and I appreciate the reception we’ve received
from those on your staff who cannot possibly be in ignorance of what has
transpired.  I know it is due to your leadership and I thank you.”

“Miss Violet has already become a staff favorite,” said
Heskiss.

“It’s about time Lynwood House had a little one running
about,” said Cook.   “And I’m sure everything will get sorted out, don’t ye
worry, Miss.”

Jane thanked them again, then went to rejoin her daughter.

 As she approached the room, she heard Ned and Vi talking.  Jane
remained in the hall, peeking through the slightly opened door.

Vi was tucked into bed.  Ned was sitting beside her with a
book in his lap.

“I assure you this is the story as written, mostly,” he
said.

“Mostly,” said Vi with a giggle.  “When Mama reads me a
story she only reads the story.  She doesn’t make things up.”

“Well, as grand of a lady as your Mama is, she is sadly
lacking in imagination because there are few stories that cannot be aided by
the addition of a few details by the reader.”

“I must protest, sir,” said Jane as she entered the room,
“this unprovoked slander of my imagination.”

Ned rose as she entered and his eyes slid over every inch of
her.  Jane knew she was well covered in her night rail and wrapper, but the
man’s eyes seemed to bore beneath her clothes to find the skin underneath.  It
was a most unsettling and not altogether unpleasant sensation.

“I brought your milk, sweeting.”

“Thank you, Mama.  Ned was reading me a story, but I think
he made up as many parts as he read.”

Jane gave the milk to Vi.  The girl patted the bed on the
other side of her.  “I think he’s being most silly.”

As Jane lay beside her daughter, Ned resumed his seat and
the story, which did indeed seem to be mostly made up.

Before long the combined effects of the milk and the story
had set in.  Vi was asleep.  Jane and Ned watched her for several moments. Then
they looked at each other.

Ned put the book on the bedside table, then held out his
hand to help Jane off the bed without waking their daughter.  As Jane put her
distinctly feminine hand in his, Ned was struck by just how right it felt. 

Hand-in-hand they walked down the hall to Jane’s bedchamber. 
They stood outside the door for a moment, looking at each other. 

“Thank you for spending so much time with her, although I do
fear what will happen in the future if you marry Miss Merriman.”

“I’m not going to marry her.”

“Shh.”  Without thinking, Jane placed her fingers on his
mouth to quiet him.  Instantly, she knew she’d made a mistake.  She was
entranced by the feel of his firm, soft lips.  “You don’t know what will happen
with Madeleine Merriman.  You aren’t in a position to make promises.”

Ned slowly pulled her hand away from his mouth.  “I can
promise that no matter whom I marry, I will always provide for Vi and you.  Now
that I’d found my family, I won’t ever let go.”

Jane swallowed as she tried to find her voice.  “Good night
Ned.”

“Good night.” And with that, he placed one gentle kiss on
her lips, then somehow found the strength to walk away.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next morning, after a frustratingly long and sleepless
night, Jane was surprised to find she had a caller, then even more puzzled to
learn it was Wills Overton.

Jane, Wills and Madeleine had grown up together, although
Wills had been at Eton for much of the time.  His trips to Marston Vale were
infrequent and it was rumored that he and his father were estranged, though no
one knew why.  In London, if the gossip pages were to be believed, Wills lived
a bachelor’s life, much more likely to be mentioned in the company of a few of his
schoolmates than with any debutante.  

“Wills, I’m rather surprised to see you,” she said after
Heskiss had served them tea.

“I hope it’s a pleasant surprise.”

Jane took a noncommittal sip of her tea.

He smiled.  “How do you find London after so many years
away?”

“Unchanged for the most part.  The same haze of coal in the
air, the noise, the crowded streets.  It’s a wonder people can hear themselves
think.”

“You’re assuming they do.  Think, that is.  It’s been my
experience that most members of the
ton
think of little other than
themselves.”

Jane smiled behind her teacup.

“Do I amuse you, Jane?”

“If you’ll excuse my saying so, Wills, some might say the
same of you.  During our long ago acquaintance, I cannot remember too much time
spent in contemplation of the weightier issues of the day.”

He smiled as he theatrically smote a fist to his breast.  “You
wound me, Jane, but only because you’ve spoken a world of truth with an
admirable economy of words.  Your previous impression of me – and I do hope it
will soon be a previous and not a current impression – is one of the reasons
I’m here today.  We’ve not been on the best of terms, and I’d like to correct
that.  I’m here to ask for a new beginning.”

“May I ask why now?”

“We are none of us growing any younger.  And as I begin to
take tiny steps into my future responsibilities, I find it helps to make amends
for the mistakes of the past.  I haven’t been as good of a friend to you over
the years as I should’ve been, especially when you needed one most.  There’s no
excuse for my behavior.  But I do ask that you not take it personally.  When
the rift between my father and me developed, I’m afraid I was a beast to all
the world.”

Jane wasn’t sure what to think.  The timing seemed odd that
he’d make this overture now – in London and at Kellington House – after so many
years.  But she couldn’t deny it would be nice to have a friend, especially
when her situation was so tenuous.

“I believe everyone can use a new beginning from time to
time,” she said carefully.  She just wouldn’t trust him until he proved himself
worthy.

“Excellent!  Now, by any chance do you have a free hour?  I’d
like to take you and Violet driving so I can show you the sights.”

“That is most kind of you.  I’m sure Vi would like nothing
better, but she’s currently on an excursion with Lady Elizabeth and I’d planned
to stay in today.”

Wills moved slightly closer to her.  “Is it a plan that can
be changed?  Is something or, shall I say, someone keeping you close to hearth
and home?”

Jane knew the answer was yes.  Ned had been out when she’d
come down for breakfast and had yet to return.  She knew she shouldn’t be
looking forward to seeing him quite so much because nothing good could come of
it.  Perhaps she should get out of the house. 

“I would like very much to go for a short drive.  Let me
fetch my bonnet.”

So it was only a short time later that Wills Overton was
helping Jane Wetherby into his phaeton.  As they rounded the corner on their way
to the park, Jane didn’t notice Ned approach Lynwood House on Knightley,
alongside Hal.

“Wasn’t that your Miss Wetherby?  And who could she be
driving with?” asked Hal, knowing exactly which of his brother’s buttons to
push.

“She’s not my Miss Wetherby.”

“I’d have to agree with you there,” said Hal, suppressing a
smile. 

“And if she chooses to go driving with a friend from home
that is entirely her business.”  Except why was she going for a drive with that
dandy Wills Overton and what the devil was he doing in town?

“I’m sure you’re right.  I just thought she didn’t know
anyone in town besides the wicked grandfather.  And he didn’t look like the
grandfatherly type, did he?”

“Hal, how would you like to see fighting techniques I
learned in the army, demonstrated on you?”

“I think I’d like that about as much as you liked seeing
your Miss Wetherby drive off with that chap in the expensive green waistcoat.”

 Hal gently kicked his horse, getting out of Ned’s reach.

“As much as I’d love to talk some more since you’re in such
a marvelous mood, I’m meeting Arthur in the park.  At least I shall enjoy my
day,” said Hal as he rode away. 

*                   *                 *

“Lady Crenshaw, it is such an honor to see you again,”
trilled Lady Barrington after she’d presented Madeleine for her curtsy at Lady
Crenshaw’s at-home, before sending the girl off to sit prettily in the corner.

Agatha Darlington, Lady Crenshaw, took pride in the fact
that her at-homes were always well attended, a testament to her position as one
of the
grand dames
of the
ton.
  Her husband the Earl of Crenshaw
was a well-respected member of Lords, who looked out for his peers and resisted
the current unpleasant trend in Parliament that smelled distressingly like
democracy.  She was also the Duke of Lynwood’s paternal aunt, which may have
had something to do with the positive crush of marriage-minded mamas and their
daughters who beat a path to her door every chance they got.

Lady Crenshaw, never one to suffer fools when there wasn’t
anything in it for her, was about to dismiss Lady Barrington, until she heard
the words “engaged to your nephew.”  That most certainly got her attention.

“Are you telling me Lord Edward finally proposed to that
daughter of yours?” asked Lady Crenshaw.

“As you know, there has been an understanding between the
two since the cradle.  And while he was visiting us in the country, he showed
every indication of proposing.   Circumstances arose that would lead one to
presume…”

“Did the boy propose or didn’t he?”   Lady Crenshaw didn’t
have time to waste listening to the silly woman.

“Not in so many words, no.”  Lady Barrington was quite put
out that she was constantly butting up against dead ends in her efforts to get
her eldest daughter married off once and for all.  “But he compromised my sweet
girl.  Then some sort of emergency arose in town…”

“What emergency?  I haven’t heard one thing about an
emergency and I am his aunt, you know.”

“Just as I suspected,” said Lady Barrington, finally
vindicated in something at least.  “Far be it from me to doubt your nephew’s
word…”

“I should say not!  He’s a Kellington, after all.”

“But we came to town so that their engagement could be
formalized and announced.  We sent around a card to let Lord Edward know of our
arrival, expecting him to come to us at his earliest convenience, but he has
not yet arrived.”

Lady Crenshaw looked at Lady Barrington as if this entire
mess could be laid on her rounded shoulders.  “And how long do we have until
the entire world can see the evidence of your daughter having been compromised?”

“Lady Crenshaw!” said Lady Barrington, as outraged as it was
safe to be.  “I do not mean he compromised her
that
way.  It was just a
kiss, but a very passionate one that her father and I just happened to walk in
on.”

“Just happened to walk in on, eh?”

Lady Barrington had the good grace to blush just a little.  “Yes,
I’m sure my Madeleine would never be so ill-bred as to allow herself to be more
carried away than a kiss.  Unlike that female and her illegitimate child who
are currently residing at Lynwood house.”

“What on earth on you talking about?  You’re making even
less sense than usual.”

Lady Barrington was then persuaded, despite her innate
dislike of gossip, to fill Lady Crenshaw in on the history of Jane Wetherby and
the curious interest Lord Edward had taken in the poor unfortunate woman, whose
fall from grace had actually been predicted by quite a few of the ladies in
Marston Vale.

Lady Crenshaw promised she’d look into the matter, before
taking one last look at Ned’s supposed fiancée, who’d been staring at a mirror
for the better part of an hour.

BOOK: Never a Mistress, No Longer a Maid
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