The Heart's Companion (7 page)

Jane bit her lip lightly, silently calling down epithets upon her own head for her unruly tongue. She could not let him see the extent of her discomfiture. Her best defense was to take his words in stride without reading further into them. She tossed her head up and unflinchingly met the earl’s amusement. "My apologies, my lord. Your guest is, of course, welcome as well, should he be inclined, and you gentlemen stand in need of a respite from bachelor fare." The smile she bestowed on him was brilliant in its calculation, and her eyes glittered with gemlike clarity.

He inclined his head, his lips twitching slightly. "We would be honored. And now ladies, if you will permit me, I should like to take Bertram and Edward riding."

"Riding!" Jane’s formal cloak slipped away. She struggled, stammering, to capture its comforting folds. "W—why? I mean, they would like nothing better, to be sure. That is very kind of you—"

"Ah, careful. Remember, I am never kind."

"Then we are all the more at sea," interjected Lady Elsbeth, staring at him with a considering expression in her soft hazel eyes.

"Curiosity, my dear Lady Elsbeth. I find myself curious as to how they fare so surrounded by women."

"But why?" reiterated Jane. "Why this interest and curiosity for a couple of children. They are no relation to you."

"That is plain speaking, is it not?" He sighed and leaned an elbow on the mantel piece. "I have asked myself the same question. The only answer I offer is boredom." He straightened, his expression grave. He stuck his thumbs into his waistcoat pockets. "Contrary to popular opinion, I do not mean the children harm, if that is what you fear. I found I like the lads and, as I admitted, I am bored. And while boredom may be fashionable in London, I’m heartily sick of it."

"Then why stay here?"

"Because I’ve made a commitment. A commitment to my solicitor, my bankers, my estate agent, and to myself." He paced before the hearth. "Six months ago I was approached with an offer to purchase Royceland Hall as the property is unentailed. I thought the offer ridiculously low. I laughed it away. My solicitor—ever so humbly and regretfully—advised me it was a good offer and that I’d not get a better one, for the estate had degenerated in the intervening years. His words were like a bucket of cold water in the face after a night of drinking blue ruin. I was shocked, angry, and suddenly wide awake. I could not let Royceland Hall go for a song. I could not let it be worth so little. So I returned to England and threw myself into the task of consolidating and rebuilding my affairs. And I will succeed," he finished firmly. Then he shook his head in self-disgust and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Diversion is what I desire. From what I have seen of Bertram and Edward, they would make an interesting—and perhaps mildly amusing—diversion. A respite from ledgers and numbers. So you see, I am not being kind, I’m being selfish. Now, will you allow the boys to accompany me, or not?"

Jane glanced at her Aunt Elsbeth, who nodded. She looked back at the earl, her posture still rigid. "Very well. Please be seated while I ring for a servant to collect the boys."

She was strangely gratified to see him finally sit. He set his hat and crop next to him and leaned back, his hands lying relaxed along his muscular thighs.

Jeremy so promptly answered her summons that again Jane wondered if the man had been listening at the keyhole. She would have to break him of that habit or be forced to tell her brother-in-law and possibly see him fired. It was a pity, for the young footman was efficient. She swiftly gave him instructions to fetch the boys. Owing to Jeremy’s penchant for eavesdropping she was confident they would arrive dressed for riding.

While they waited for the children, Royce asked after their expected guests. When hearing Sir Garth Helmsdon was one of the company, he raised an amused eyebrow. "Is Helmsdon still loose? E’gad, what did he do, marry a wealthy cit’s daughter? He was bound for either exile to escape his duns or landing in the Fleet ten years ago!"

Jane’s lips twitched slightly. "I believe he came into a small bequest, which satisfied his creditors for a time."

"Am I to understand they are beginning to hammer at our erstwhile friend’s door again?"

"Rather assiduously, I believe. It is well known he is hanging out for a rich wife, though I do not believe his case is desperate yet. He has not yet reached the state of being unconcerned as to his intended’s appearance or antecedents."

Royce ran two fingers along his jawline, and unconsciously thrust out his chin as if his thoughts had taken on a particularly unpleasant aspect. "I remember Helmsdon." His eyes narrowed at some distant memory. "He was not a man for whom honor held meaning. I trust I do not have to tell you that a desperate man without honor can be more vile than the thieves and cutpurses of London?"

Jane shivered slightly at the cold, granite-hardness in his tone and manner. What was worse was he spoke her unformed thoughts. She was becoming increasingly thankful for the heavy oak door with its large brass lock. If she prevented Helmsdon from manufacturing a compromising situation within the house, and if she refused all invitations to solitary rides or drives, she should realize a large measure of safety. The sudden tightness in her chest eased, allowing her to respond with her legendary sangfroid.

"We believe my cousin Millicent, Mr. David Hedgeworth’s widow, to be his current target. It is she he accompanies here," she said blandly, though a hint of a smile hovered at the edges of her lips.

"And you intend to spoil Helmsdon’s game by informing your cousin of his intentions."

Jane’s eyes opened wide and a rich, rippling laugh escaped her lips.

Royce crossed his arms over his chest, the material of his jacket bunching only slightly at the shoulders for his jackets were cut more for his personal comfort than to the dictates of fashion. He leaned back against the heavy brocade pillows of the settee and cocked his head to the side as he considered Jane.

Lady Elsbeth lowered her needlework to her lap for a moment. "There is no great familial love shared between my nieces," she explained dryly.

Royce looked at Lady Elsbeth, a slight puzzled frown twisting his brows. "Then why have her visit?"

Lady Elsbeth sighed. "My elder sister Serena, Lady Charles Tipton, did not ask, she merely announced. We could not very well turn them away, for this is not our house and they have been guests of Mr. and Mrs. Litton on previous occasions." She started to pick up her needlework, then paused and returned it to her lap. "My sister did write to chastise me for failing to see Jane suitably wed yet. I do hope she has not decided to undertake the task."

"I have already told you, Elsbeth, that I believe she has," Jane said calmly.

Royce would have questioned her further if the sound of running feet outside the closed parlor doors hadn’t pulled his attention away. The sound was followed moments later with the double doors swinging wide and Bertram and Edward, dressed for riding as Jane knew Jeremy would tell them, skidded to a halt inside the room.

"Is it true? Is it really true?" Edward demanded excitedly, scurrying over to the earl.

Royce rose to prevent the boy from launching himself upon him. "Yes, you repulsive whelp," he said, ruffling the boy’s hair to negate any sting in his words.

None was detected, for the child instantly began a recital of the good and bad points of his pony.

"Cut line, you clodhead," interrupted his older brother in disgust. "Ecod, you ain’t even bowed properly yet!" So saying Bertram executed a deep bow that caused him to slightly lose his balance. He stepped back hastily, a blush of red ascending his cheeks.

The earl nodded gravely, pretending not to notice the awkward bobble. "You make a nice leg. Only not so low. I am not of royal blood."

"Yes, sir. No, sir. I mean, yes, sir!" Bertram returned crisply, staring up at Royce with mannish determination to be counted more than a child.

Jane and Elsbeth exchanged covert glances. The earl was hard pressed to maintain his bland countenance. A small tug at the tails of his coat drew his attention back to Edward.

"Like this, sir?" asked Edward. With grim-faced determination he bowed.

"Excellent. Now gentlemen—" The boys squared their shoulders proudly at being dubbed gentlemen. "Shall we bid your lady aunts adieu and be off?"

"Yes, sir!" they chimed and collided with each other in their mutual haste to be the first to say good-bye. They looked as if they each would cut up the other for the accident; but a quick glance up at the earl forestalled their habitual bickering. They said good-bye in a rush, darting for the door.

The earl moved more leisurely, an open smile now curving his lips and lighting his dark eyes, eliminating their habitual shadows. "I shall take care of them and see they come to no harm."

Jane nodded slowly, a wry smile dispelling her wintery, remote expression. "I have no concern for their welfare; but I fear it is your own I should bear concern for," she teased, looking up at him in a far more friendly fashion than she was wont.

"I should be honored." He bowed formally.

Jane started, a bright blush of color again sweeping across her pale complexion. The sincerity of his response rattled her calm. Immediately she swept her invisible mantle of protection about herself, her expression cooling.

Royce wanted to kick himself for sending her back into her world of ice and snow. He would need to take better care with this one if he wished to tear down her barriers. Swiftly, giving no indication that he sensed a change in Jane’s manner, he bid both ladies good-bye, again reassuring them as to their young relatives’ safety, and followed the children out the door.

Lady Elsbeth clasped her hands over her needlework and sat staring at Jane, her head cocked in a considering fashion.

Jane bristled, her mouth working as though she thought to say one thing or another and ended by discarding them all. Finally they saw the small party pass by the large window of the parlor, Royce tipping his hat toward them as he passed. "The man is certainly an odd fish. I wonder if we do trust the children in his company."

"Certainly we do," returned Elsbeth. "But if he means to pursue their company, I wonder at Serena’s reaction. "And to your own, though I’d not say that to you, Elsbeth thought. She picked up her needlework, pulling her needle free as she considered the pattern growing beneath her fingers. "At all events, our bucolic, peaceful existence here at Penwick will never be the same."

Jane had no response for that, for she feared Elsbeth to be right.

For the next several days it appeared Lady Elsbeth was wrong.

Though servants hastened to prepare Penwick Park for the expected guests, life for its residents settled back into a calm routine. Every afternoon the Earl of Royce took Jane’s nephews for long, rambling rides over the countryside. Arrangements for these rides were made between the earl and the boys the day before, consequently they were always dressed and standing by their saddled ponies when the earl arrived. There was no need, or opportunity, for the earl and Jane to meet again. Conversations that Jane and Lady Elsbeth had with the boys revealed they were getting along very well with the earl. Royce seemed to have assumed the role of mentor, giving the boys sage advice which they solemnly parroted, to the amusement of Lady Elsbeth and the consternation of Jane. Jane did not like owing the earl, but she feared she was in his debt. The children were displaying signs of respect, mannerliness, and maturity. It nettled Jane that the earl was successful where she and Elsbeth were not. She did not consider how unsuccessful the boys’ own parents had been.

She was aware, however, that their mischievous pranks had abated, but for the comparatively trivial matters of the handprint "paintings’’ on the hallway pier glass and the sliding down the newly polished banisters. Truthfully, though Jane hated to own it, life had become disgustingly boring. Consequently, she soon discovered herself looking forward with anticipation to the arrival of their heretofore unwanted guests.

The cavalcade began arriving on the fifth day.

They arrived later than Jane and Lady Elsbeth had anticipated, nearly driving those ladies to distraction with worry whether or not they would have to cancel the planned dinner and dancing for that evening. As it was, they’d already reordered their table setting due to the news of Mrs. Chitterdean’s succumbing to the grippe. Lady Elsbeth hastily prepared more of her decoction and sent Nurse Twinkleham to care for the invalided parson’s wife. It was agreed by all parties that Reverend Chitterdean must be kept well.

Consequently, it hadn’t helped Jane’s and Lady Elsbeth’s rapidly frazzling nerves that the boys were underfoot all afternoon, eagerly asking to help with the final preparations for the arriving guests. When an exasperated Jane had tried to send them out to the Folly with Becky to watch them, she was solemnly told they’d promised the earl they would stand ready to be of assistance. Somehow he’d impressed upon them a sense of responsibility. It was a sense of responsibility that Jane could have cheerfully done without; but she could hardly wound their honor by refusing their help and packing them off to the schoolroom.

Not since Lady Tipton and Millicent interfered with her life three years ago had she felt so helpless. Her one consoling thought was the righteousness of the ideas the earl instilled in the boys. It struck her as odd, even humorous, to consider the Devil’s Disciple instilling principals of good and evil, as well as manners and respect. It was unsettling and made her more wary of the man, for she wondered at his game. A leopard doesn’t change its spots nor a tiger its stripes. There had to be a motive to his strange behavior, but she could not see it. If he sought out her company, she would have accused him of hanging out for a rich wife and conniving for a place in her good graces with his assiduous attention to her nephews. But he did not try to see her. She even questioned the boys to ascertain if the earl asked them about her. As far as she could tell from their reports, her name never even came up in conversation! It was maddening.

Such thoughts were tumbling around in her mind when they heard the first crunch of wheels in the drive. Bertram and Edward ran to the windows to catch a glimpse of scarlet and brown livery before the carriage swept out of sight to the front of the house. Lady Elsbeth identified the colors as those of the Tipton family. She urged Jane and the boys to join her on the steps to welcome the visitors to Penwick Park.

Jane took a deep breath. Now the battle would be joined. Was she ready? Mentally she checked the condition of her protective cloak, searching for rents and holes. There were none. Still, she wished the earl was present; but his own guest arrived that morning and he was engaged in entertaining him. According to Bertram, the gentlemen would come to the dinner.

She followed the boys outside, placing a hand on either shoulder as they stood before her like a wall against the approaching hordes. Her expression was aloof, waiting with a calm otherworldliness.

Lady Elsbeth glanced at her, her lips tightening a moment. Then the steps were being let down from the carriage and her sister was descending. Jane must fend for herself, Lady Elsbeth decided as she went toward Serena with a smile and a word of welcome on her lips for her elder sister.

"My dear Elsbeth!" gushed Serena, clasping her younger sister in an embrace that maintained at least three inches between them. She hooked her arm cozily with Elsbeth’s and drew her aside so the others in the carriage could descend. She was followed by Millicent, a striking brunette in a rich, Florentine gold traveling dress trimmed with dark brown braid and cream-colored lace. She regally lifted her head and looked across the yard, her gaze clashing with Jane’s. One corner of her mouth kicked up in amusement at the domestic picture the Ice Witch made with the two little boys standing before her.

Jane saw the contemptuous smile on her cousin’s lips, but did not deign to react. If anything, her own expression mirrored Millicent’s, for suddenly she saw and understood her cousin’s need to be the center of attention. It amused Jane to realize Millicent would never understand her desire to step aside and give her that position. So much the better. The battle was joined.

"Millicent, love, doesn’t your Aunt Elsbeth look divine? One would never credit her with being three and thirty. I swear she makes me feel quite hagged just to look at her!" Lady Serena Tipton cooed, finishing with a slight, carefully contrived pout that pulled her artificially reddened lips into a bow.

"Nonsense, my dear," boomed a loud, nasal voice from the carriage doorway before Millicent could answer. The voice was followed by the tall, paunchy appearance of Mr. Raymond Burry. When his feet touched the ground he rolled back on his heels and straightened. Patting his stomach, he drew in a deep breath, his girth expanding like an aerial balloon. "If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she were the eldest. No offense, Lady Elsbeth, but your sister is an angel personified," declared Mr. Burry. Well pleased with his description, he nodded and patted his stomach. "Yes, stab me if that ain’t the right of it. An angel." His smile pushed at his thick cheeks, making his long face diamond-shaped.

Lady Elsbeth smiled wryly. "My sister always did show to better advantage."

"You would be better served if you did not insist on dressing in that severe manner," Serena said breezily, her hand waving negligently before her to indicate Elsbeth’s printed blue cambric gown devoid of knots of ribbons, ruchings, or furbelows. "And if you did not come outside without a hat. I swear you are getting positively brown, my dear! Don’t despair, I have in my bags a special cream just arrived from Paris that is guaranteed to clear one’s complexion of all ruddiness." She patted her sister’s hand as they turned to walk toward the house.

"But where are the others of your party that you wrote me about? Are they not coming?"

"The Willoughbys and Sir Helmsdon shall be here shortly. The most tiresome circumstance occurred. One of the horses harnessed at the last stage to Lord Willoughby’s carriage came up lame. As Sir Helmsdon was mounted, he quite generously volunteered to set off to secure another horse. One of the link boys could have walked back, but Sir Helmsdon would have nothing of it. Such a kind and considerate man. I am quite amazed that in our modem society gallantry such as his should still exist. It says much of the man, don’t you think?"

Lady Elsbeth murmured some noncommittal phrase which her sister took as an agreement. Finding Elsbeth in an agreeable mood, Lady Serena launched into a full recital of all the gentlemen they’d had visit them that summer.

"I swear, coming here shall be a blessed peace from the frenetic pace of society at holiday. It is worse than at the height of the season! Of course, with my dear Millicent’s looks, and the funds poor Mr. Hedgeworth secured on her, it is not to be wondered at. Poor Jane. It is really too bad that she does not possess my Millicent’s confidence and elegance. Well, never fear, that is why I am here. We shall see that Jane has suitors. "

"Very clever puss is your sister," put in Mr. Burry as he trudged after them arm-in-arm with Millicent.

"Thank you, Raymond dear," enthused Lady Tipton. "Ah these must be Mary’s two boys." She reached forward to pinch their cheeks.

Bertram looked up at Jane. She squeezed his shoulder in commiseration.

"My dear Jane, you haven’t changed a bit," said Lady Serena Tipton. There was the slightest hint of disappointment in her tone. She looked as if she would clasp Jane except for the boys' continued presence.

"Please, won’t you come in, Aunt Serena?" Jane invited smoothly, nodding to Millicent and Mr. Burry to include them as well. "Mrs. Phibbs has your rooms ready."

"Thank you, my dear. I admit I am quite fagged. Though the roads these days are much improved, traveling just does not agree with my constitution."

Jane released the boys to scamper down to the stables. "Yes, I understand that is a condition I may have to contend with when I reach your years," she said blandly, turning to lead the small party into the house.

Lady Elsbeth frowned, Lady Serena looked nonplussed. Millicent chuckled. Lady Serena sent her a scathing look, which her daughter shrugged aside.

"We have planned a small party for this evening to celebrate your visit. Just a few of the neighbors for dinner with more arriving afterwards for a little informal dancing," Jane said as they approached the main staircase. There stood Mrs. Phibbs with her retinue of maids ready to show their guests upstairs. "I do hope you will be recovered by then?"

"How quaint," Millicent cooed. "A country party. I swear I haven’t attended one since I was sixteen, before my come out. I don’t suppose you have any important guests on your list? I doubt you even know the Earl of Royce, and he is the nearest neighbor, is he not?"

Jane looked back at Millicent to see her cousin smiling at her with treacle sweetness. "Royce? Oh, indeed we do. He has been over every day the past week," she said easily. Not for a moment would she admit the objects of his attention have been her two nephews. "But he was uncertain as to whether he would join us. It seems he is expecting a guest today and did not wish to make commitments for his friend without consulting him first. It may be that we do not see him at all until his guest has left," Jane offered guilelessly, smiling graciously back at her cousin.

"We keep country hours here at Penwick Park, so dinner is at six. I hope that will not discommode you in any way? And do not worry for the rest of your party. I shall send a man out after the Willoughbys to see if he may be of assistance." She paused to give Mrs. Phibbs a few quiet instructions, then turned to smile broadly at their guests. It was that cold, social smile that failed to reach and warm her eyes. "Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some last details to go over with Cook."

Lady Elsbeth watched Jane walk slowly away, realizing her niece would rather be running. She shook her head. "We shall send your servants up as soon as the carriages are unloaded. Mrs. Phibbs has directed that all irons be warmed so that your clothing can be pressed."

"Damned thoughtful of you. Know my stocks will need a going over. Always do after being packed away, unless I’ve a mind to be slovenly, which I tell you now I can’t abide. Never could, never would." Mr. Burry released Millicent’s arm and rolled back on his heels.

"Of course you can’t, Burry dear," soothed Lady Serena as they followed Mrs. Phibbs up the stairs.

Lady Elsbeth smiled stiffly, her head bobbing mechanically as she watched them ascend the stairs. When they’d attained the first floor landing she relaxed and sighed deeply before turning to go in search of Jane. She’d best remind her niece to keep her tongue between her teeth. It didn’t do to go borrowing trouble. Particularly any that Serena could contrive.

Lord and Lady Willoughby, accompanied by Sir Garth Helmsdon, arrived some thirty minutes later. Lord Willoughby was a surprisingly ugly brute of a man who spoke with a dialect that reminded Jane of her Uncle Edward and his military cronies. Lady Willoughby was a small, wiry woman who scarcely spoke above a rasping whisper, due, her spouse informed them, to a nearly fatal illness she’d suffered many years before. In contrast to her ugly husband, she was a faded beauty for whom time’s touch had been gentle.

They all appeared tired, dusty, and more than a little disturbed by Serena’s cavalier manner of leaving them to their misfortune. With scarcely a greeting for their hostesses, the Willoughbys retired upstairs. Sir Helmsdon looked predisposed to talk, maneuvering Jane into a corner of the hall for just that purpose. Luckily for Jane her nephews chose that moment to return to the house. They’d seen Sir Helmsdon’s long-tailed gray out in the yard and declared it a beautiful animal. The boys rushed over to the horse’s owner, pummeling him with questions regarding the animal. Jane smiled and murmured her excuses, then slipped out under his arm. Her position was immediately supplanted by Edward, who wanted to know what weight he rode and how long the horse could carry him. Their enthusiastic questions carried them in Sir Helmsdon’s wake as he followed Jeremy to his assigned room.

Elsbeth came to stand beside Jane as they watched the Willoughbys and Sir Helmsdon climb the stairs.

"It would appear Serena’s sterling character has already begun to tarnish," she murmured in Jane’s ear.

"Yes, but she obviously could not hold the Willoughby’s of much account. After all, they do not have an unmarried, wealthy son for Millicent."

"Then why their company?"

"I don’t know; but likely there is a reason—at least one that makes sense to Aunt Serena’s brand of logic. Helmsdon concerns me more. He was quick to pursue private conversation. I had hoped he would dangle after Millicent awhile longer. That would have given me room and time to maneuver and plan my strategy."