The Last of Lady Lansdown (35 page)

“Yes, m’lady, all here in this bag, down to the smallest diamond.”

Meg knelt on the floor and upended the bag. A jumble of sparkling jewels poured out and lay in a dazzling heap on Rennie’s carpet. “I took them, m’lady, I couldn’t help it. That big wall of water was coming, and there was nobody to rescue them but me. I’m so sorry.”

Jane knelt next to Meg and stared in awe at the Lansdown jewels strewn before her in all their gleaming glory. “And to think I had just assumed the jewels were gone forever.” With cautious fingers, she selected the pearl and amber necklace from the jumble and held it up to the light. “This was my favorite. Look at it sparkle. Isn’t it beautiful? I’m so glad you saved it, Meg, and all the jewels. Why are you apologizing?”

“Because ...” Meg bit her lip and hung her head in shame. “I confess I wanted to keep them, even though I knew it was the same as stealing. The thought of keeping them was just so tempting, you see. We wouldn’t be poor anymore. We would always have plenty to eat and we could buy a farm and not have to pay rent to a greedy landlord. Begging your pardon, madam, but the earl cheated us for years and that’s the truth.”

“So why didn’t you keep the jewels?”

“I could not.” Meg shook her head with regret. “I knew I was stealing. Lately I haven’t slept well because my conscience got the better of me. So here they are, ma’am, and I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me.”

“Don’t be silly, there’s nothing to forgive. Let’s see now...who else knows you have the jewels?”

“No one but me.”

“Are you aware that everyone thinks the jewels were swept away in the flood?”

“Oh, madam!” Meg sank back on her haunches. “Are you saying I should keep them?”

Jane remained silent, battling with her conscience. Her head spun with the possibilities. Why shouldn’t Meg keep the jewels? She and her family would live in comfort the rest of their lives. They were so much more deserving than the next earl in line now that Percy was gone—whoever he might be. She wasn’t sure which of the sons would succeed, but what did it matter? He was an Elton, wasn’t he? Therefore, he was bound to be as heartless and greedy as all his predecessors and did not deserve the jewels.

On the other hand ... What am I doing?

Jane had a moment of clarity.
Stealing
, that is what she was doing. She remembered her father’s words, spoken to her when she was a little girl: “Do the right thing because it is right. This is the magic key to living your life with integrity.”

What was the right thing? The answer was clear as crystal. The Lansdown jewels belonged to the Eltons, despicable though they might be. No one else had a right to them, even though they assumed the jewels were lost forever. “Meg, much as it pains me, I must give them back.”

“Of course. I knew you would. I so admire your honesty.”

Jane smiled ruefully. “You would be better off if I had a little less of it, I’m afraid.”

“No, madam. Rest assured you’ve done the right thing.”

The next day, a somber Sir Archibald arrived at Lancaster Hall. Carrying the bag of jewels, Jane met him in the library, where she seated herself and laid the bag on the floor. She would choose just the right moment to reveal her astounding news.

“My dear, you have my sympathy. What a terrible thing. Why, the loss of life in the village of Sudberry alone is unbelievable. So many farms destroyed, too. Whole families simply washed away.”

Jane returned a sober thank you. Despite the solicitor’s stuffiness and past indifference, she knew he meant his remarks sincerely.

“You are not to worry. The Lansdown fortune is considerable and will now pass to Ludlow Elton, a fine young man from what I have heard, not like ...” The solicitor caught his indiscretion and cleared his throat. “At any rate, Chatfield Court will be restored. So will your dower house, which, as you doubtless know, was completely destroyed. Also, you can still expect the revenue from the estates in Ireland. They are enough to give you an adequately comfortable life from now on. You will be safe and secure in the knowledge you will have a roof over your head and food on the table for your entire lifetime.”

Adequately comfortable
.
Safe and secure
. She might as well be dead already. The very thought made her spirits sink to a new low. Poor Sir Archibald actually thought he was cheering her up, so she put a smile on her face and managed an appropriate, “That is very nice to hear.”

The solicitor sighed. “It’s unfortunate we lost the family jewels, but I suppose they’re buried forever in the muck somewhere.”

Ah, the perfect opening. Regrets still assailed her, but she knew what she had to do. “I have something to show you, Sir Archibald.” She reached for the cloth bag she’d brought with her and set on the floor. With a touch of the dramatic, she upended the bag and spread the contents on one of the library tables. “Come look, sir. The Lansdown jewels.”

The solicitor got to his feet and stared in amazement at the glittering sight before him. “Upon my word! I thought they were lost forever.”

“Fortunately, they were rescued by one of our servants, Meg Twimby.”

“Astounding!”

“
Rescued
,” Jane emphasized. “If not for Meg, the jewels would be buried in the mud forever.”

Sir Archibald nodded with satisfaction. “I shall see these are returned to Ludlow Elton. Who knows? He might be amenable to giving your servant a small reward.”

“That would be most kind.” Jane hid her skepticism. An Elton was an Elton. She doubted Meg would ever see so much as a farthing.

After Sir Archibald’s departure, Jane stopped by to visit her grandmother, who had yet to leave her bed since she arrived at Lancaster Hall. Jane described her conversation with the family solicitor. “I hated to do it, but I turned the jewels over to him. He will see they go to Ludlow Elton, who’s in line to be the next earl.”

Granny nodded her approval. “You did the right thing. Your mother would be proud of you.”

The thought of her mother filled her with sorrow. “I miss her so much.”

“Amelia would be alive today if she hadn’t been so stubborn. There were times that woman was as stupid as a post.”

“I suppose.” Granny didn’t fool her. She might sound uncaring, but Jane detected the tremor in her voice when she spoke of her only daughter. Time to change the subject. “Mister Cartland has left.”

“For good?”

“He’s going to finish Rennie’s canal, and then he’s going to America.”

“You let him go? I thought you loved him.”

“Yes, very much but ...” She could not go on.

“I know he loves you,” Granny said.

“I suppose he does, but he said we could never be happy together. It’s his pride. He thinks I’m rich, which you know very well I am not. He thinks I love being a countess and living in luxury, and having everybody cater to me.”

“Well, do you?”

“No! All I really want in this world are Douglas and my horse.” She allowed herself a small smile. “In that order, he would be pleased to hear.”

“Well, missy, it appears to me you did not do a very good job of telling him so.”

“I guess I didn’t.” Jane paused to gather her thoughts. “I became so depressed talking to Sir Archibald. He meant to be kind, telling me the dower house will be rebuilt, but all I can think of now is how miserable my life is going to be, living under the thumb of the Eltons. Ludlow Elton will inherit, but it doesn’t matter which son, they are all awful. Even if they build me a new dower house, I’ll feel trapped and lonely for the rest of my life.”

“That’s nonsense. You’re bound to find someone else.”

“Even if I do, he won’t be Douglas. He’s the love of my life, just as Daniel was to you.”

“Then it seems to me you ought not to spend the rest of your life living in a place you don’t like with people you don’t care for. Life is a gamble at best, so if I were you, I would throw caution to the winds and do what I wanted to do.” Granny raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Doesn’t that make sense?”

“I suppose,” Jane responded with a listless shrug.

“Look at what happened to your mother. She didn’t have the courage to take her life in her hands and make the most of it. Instead, at the end, she just sat there like a lump, unable to help herself, waiting to die. And so she did.”

For a long time, Jane sat mulling Granny’s words. She did
not
want to end up like her mother. She
did
want a life of her own. Was it possible? “Ever since Papa sent us the letter, I have wanted to go to America.”

“Then for God’s sake, go. They won’t call you ‘countess’ in America, but what do you care? I know you. You won’t mind giving up your title and all that folderol.”

Her mind raced. Why shouldn’t she go? She no longer had her mother to worry about. Millicent was going to marry Lord Rennie and live happily ever after. Granny was welcome to stay right here in Lancaster Hall where she would most certainly be treated like a queen.

Jane leaped to her feet and gave Granny a hug. “Why didn’t I see it before? You’re right. Why should I stay in a place I don’t like, living a life I detest? I’m going to see Papa. I’m going to America!”

“Will you tell Douglas?”

“If I can find him.” She thought a moment. “But what if I can’t? From what I understand, America is an awfully big place.”

“Then you will just have to take your chances. I certainly would, rather than sit in that dower house for the next fifty or so years, waiting to die.”

Jane smiled wryly. “You put it so bluntly, but you’re right. I am not going to sit here like a lump for the rest of my life.”

Jane left her grandmother’s bedchamber with a new sense of resolve. Without question, she was going to America. Would she ever see Douglas again? Her heart ached at the thought she might not—probably
would
not. Still, as Granny said, life was a gamble and she would just have to take her chances.

Chapter 20

The next few weeks, Jane busied herself preparing for her journey. So much to do. Booking the passage, writing to her father to meet her ship in New York, acquiring an entirely new wardrobe to replace the one she lost, saying goodbye to old friends, many of whom thought she, a mere woman, was insane to attempt such a perilous journey alone. She had made up her mind, though, and nothing would dissuade her. After all, at the end of her journey her father would be waiting. That fact alone kept her from changing her mind.

As for Douglas, she thought of him constantly and desperately wanted him to know that she, too, was going to America. Where was he? She hadn’t heard a word. She decided to write him a letter. What an agonizing task it was. She wanted to tell him he was the only man in the world she could ever love, yet pride told her not to grovel. After many attempts and crumpled pieces of note paper, she wrote:

My Dear Mister Cartland,

I shall soon be sailing to America, leaving title, my so-called “riches,” and just about everything else I own behind, including my beloved Beauty.

If that makes me “spoiled rotten” as you put it, as well as “quite imperious,” then there is nothing more I can say.

If fate decrees we meet again someday, I can only hope you will look past your nose and see the woman who gave her heart to you without reservation. You still have it. What more can I say?

So it’s farewell! I wish you good fortune and hope that someday, somehow, we will meet again upon those far distant shores.

With utmost kind regards,

—
Jane Lansdown

Having no address, she asked Rennie about Douglas’ whereabouts.

“You might try sending it to the Blue Bull Inn. I believe he’s there, but then again, I’m not sure. They’re building a new canal farther north, so maybe that’s where he is.”

“Could he already have gone to America?”

Rennie shrugged. “Who knows? I suppose he could be halfway across the Atlantic by now.”

With an aching heart, she sent the letter to the Blue Bull Inn. Douglas might not ever receive it, but what else could she do?

One day Bruta came to see her. Jane greeted her cordially. “Are you still planning on going to America?”

Her former lady’s maid nodded briskly. “Yes, I am, madam. I’ve heard you are, too.”

“You heard correctly.”

“Then I shall be your lady’s maid.”

“But ... but ...” Jane launched into an explanation as to why such an arrangement would not be a good idea. She planned to go alone and could manage quite well, thank you. She was giving up her title and had no need of a lady’s maid or any kind of servant whatsoever.

Bruta listened with arms folded across her chest, her chin set with determination. After Jane finished, she declared, “I don’t care if you won’t be a countess anymore. You still must dress properly, and from what I have observed of your careless habits, you certainly cannot cope on your own.”

Jane continued to argue, but somewhere along the way she realized she had lost the battle. But had she really lost? She had not looked forward to making the journey alone. Bruta could actually be of great help. Not only that, her attitude toward Bruta had done a turnaround since the lady’s maid confessed her unwilling part in procuring the oil of pennyroyal. Through new eyes, Jane perceived Bruta as a hardworking, loyal servant. She might lack many of the social graces, but Jane would be lucky to have her. “Very well, you’re hired for the passage. As to what will happen when we reach our destination, I’m not sure. I can’t promise a thing.”

Bruta broke into a satisfied smile. “We shall worry about that when we get there, m’lady.”

Jane started to protest she would not be called m’lady anymore, then changed her mind. She would be wasting her breath. As always, Bruta would do as she pleased.

On the day before Jane was to begin her journey, Meg Twimby came visiting again. The former servant wore a new dress and new shoes. Her face shone with excitement. “Wait until you hear my news, m’lady,”