He scratched his head. “To be blunt, I’m not sure. She is still very much a product of American culture, and I’ve come to the conclusion Lady Siltsbury must accept that fact and present her as she is.”
“Her accent isn’t so nasal, and she seems to pay attention to instruction. While I don’t disagree about being honest, the girl must still live in society and needs to be prepared.”
“I know, but sometimes it seems hopeless. This morning I caught her out walking without her maid.”
“Oh, dear. She is rebelling.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“What do you want me to do while you’re gone? She has another fitting this afternoon, and I believe a few garments have been completed. Tomorrow she and I can discuss what happens at a court presentation, although the queen does not seem to be having as many these days.”
“You think Lady Siltsbury will want her presented?”
“Don’t you?”
“I suppose. Good lord, the girl will have a fit when you explain it. The gown alone will mortify her.”
“I know. She is exceedingly independent.”
Yet her father obviously had kept her far from society. Aside from the trip to New York, and a few lectures and visits with neighbors, the girl seemed to have been living behind a curtain. He shuddered when he thought about how naïve she was—fair game for the bounders, and there were plenty. How would he protect her? Jocelyn, at least, would be safely married by the end of summer, most likely in a grand wedding at St. George’s with the cream of the ton present.
When it became known Jane, too, came with a fortune and a property on the coast in Devonshire, she would be beset with suitors. Hopefully one of the suitable gentlemen would be to her liking.
It was his duty to find her a husband and to get her settled in her own establishment. She had a head for numbers. That was well and good for the lady of a large household. But her disparagement of all things English was troubling, and her stubborn insistence on becoming a spinster would not set well with her mother.
Although she can afford to be a spinster if she wishes.
He ran up the stairs and advised his valet they would be returning to Ralston Park for several days. Then he knocked on Jane’s door.
“Come in.”
No, he would not go in. “It’s Ralston. Meet me in the family sitting room in a half hour.”
The door opened abruptly, and Jane stood there in the gown she’d worn this morning. Her hair hung loosely about her shoulders, and she held a hairbrush in her hand. He suppressed the urge to reach out and run those silky strands through his fingers.
“Why can’t you come in?”
“’Tis not proper.”
“Even with the door open?”
“Even so. Will you be finished with your hair?”
“Yes.”
He turned and strode away, the picture of Jane in dishabille, her lustrous hair hanging about her shoulders, made him think improper thoughts. He’d often wondered if her hair was as soft to the touch as the velvet skin of her cheek.
These scandalous thoughts must stop. He sympathized with her desire for independence. Marriage was not always pleasant for aristocratic women. Their property, their money, their pursuits—their very existence—was at the mercy of a husband. He knew why Jane’s parents had not divorced. As difficult as it was to live apart, it would have been even more difficult to formalize their separation. Lady Siltsbury would have endured the most shame, as would her daughters, through no fault of their own.
If Jane didn’t find a suitable husband, he wouldn’t force her to marry. He didn’t want to be leg-shackled either. He hadn’t yet made an effort to find someone with whom to produce an heir, as callous as that sounded. Most eligible females were raised to be quiet, docile, and capable. He couldn’t imagine himself with such a boring mate.
I can always let my late brother’s eldest son be my heir.
He found his way to the desk in the library, picked up a few documents he’d need to bring with him, and stuffed them in a leather pouch. He took them back to his room and instructed his valet to put the pouch in his valise. If he hurried, he might be able to make it as far as Cardmore Hall before nightfall and would stay the night there. He didn’t have time to inform Lord and Lady Cardmore of his arrival, but he had a standing invitation to visit at any time.
The door opened, and Jane strode in, her hair tied back with a large bow. “What did you wish to see me about, my lord?”
“I have to leave for a few days on business. Aunt Amelia will continue your instruction.”
She pouted, biting her lower lip. “I thought we were to go riding.”
“We shall when I return. You’ll be clothed in all your equestrian finery by then, and you can try out Aunt’s mare.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you going to see my mother?”
“No. This is personal business. I have a large estate east of London near Chelmsford. A fire has destroyed the steward’s cottage. I must see to repairs and find a place to relocate his family.”
“Can I go with you?”
“No you cannot. You’re to stay here with Aunt Amelia. Perhaps when I return the three of us can pay an overnight call at my friends, the Earl and Countess of Cardmore. I’ll ask when I stop there tonight. It might be time to test the level of your social polish.”
“Aren’t you afraid they’ll tell someone about me?”
“They are both discreet.”
She nodded.
“Jane. Please do not distress Lady Amelia. She worries about you.”
She studied her hands. “I promise to behave. She has been most kind.”
She took three steps forward and placed her arms around his waist in a fierce hug. “I shall miss you, even though you are quite fractious at times.”
He left his arms hanging at his sides, a subtle floral scent tickling his nose, making him want to lean in closer to that lustrous hair. Abruptly she stepped back, her face flaming. “I do beg your pardon. You know I oft give in to impulses.”
“Quite all right. It’s quite refreshing being around someone who has no ulterior motives, who is spontaneous, and who values honesty.”
“Unlike so many others.” Her lips pursed in a grimace. She stood silently, looking off into the distance, then seemed to shake off her momentary reverie to give him a bright smile. “Have a safe trip and hurry back. While you’re gone, I’ll devise something outrageous to do when you return so you’ll have to scold me. And I do look forward to the talk about rakes and rogues.”
She turned and left the library, closing the door behind her.
Ralston sank into a chair, his head in his hands. Whatever was he to do with the girl? At times he wanted to shake her, and at others he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. Lord, he’d never felt this way about a woman before. This one, totally unacceptable given their circumstances, stirred his interest like no other.
He sat for a few minutes, then headed back to his room. His valet had packed and announced all was in readiness to depart.
He should easily make Cardmore Hall by nightfall. Traveling on horseback was much faster than in a carriage.
The urgency of the matter to be dealt with on his estate would be a distraction and help him refocus on his duties and responsibilities as a guardian.
At least, that was his plan.
Chapter 14
“Lord Ralston, how good to see you, sir.” Cardmore’s butler took Ralston’s hat and overcoat and led the way to the private sitting room. “The earl and countess will be thrilled.”
“I hope so, Spencer. I intend to impose on them for the night.”
After the butler announced him, Lady Cardmore ran over to hug him. “We wondered when we’d see you again. I daresay you disappeared mon
ths ago.”
He moved back to scrutinize Emily, who was enceinte once again. “How are you feeling? You look wonderful.”
“To be honest? I feel like Prinny without his corsets. Who knew Andrew and I were destined to have such a large family? My friend Gwen is quite jealous.”
Emily led him to a chair, and Andrew, Lord Cardmore, handed him a brandy. “What brings you here this time of night? I hope it’s the need of a bed and not some dire announcement that couldn’t wait until daylight.”
Gilbert sipped his beverage and set the glass on a table. “Actually it’s both. I’m on my way to Ralston Park to see to an estate matter. It appears my steward’s cottage has suffered damage from a fire.”
“I’m sorry to hear it,” Andrew said. “I must say I’m glad you chose to stop here. Emily and I have missed you.”
“Did you dine?” Emily wandered over to a corner where a long, tasseled rope was hung. “I’m sure cook can put together a cold collation even at this hour.”
Ralston’s lips twitched into a smile. “You installed the bellpull. I’m impressed, and I am hungry. I didn’t stop to dine, because I wanted to get here before you retired for the night.”
“Let me show you how well this works.” She tugged on the rope. Somewhere in the house—the kitchen area most likely—a bell was ringing, indicating which room required service. In less time than he would have expected, a footman entered the room and Lady Cardmore gave instructions.
Andrew grinned. “I daresay we both wonder how we lived without our modern conveniences.”
“’Tis the way of the world, and I’m sure there will be many innovations in the near future. Did you get the showering device installed?”
“We did,” said Andrew. “I confess I am the only one who uses it.”
Gilbert sat back and sipped his brandy. “The cold water? Not to your liking, Lady Emily?”
“Good heavens no. I’d rather have a hot bath instead of a cold stream of water from a bucket somehow installed over my head. But tell us, how is your sister? I heard you were spending a great deal of time with her these days. Nothing is amiss, is it? She’s well, I hope?”
“Elizabeth, her husband, and all seven of her children are quite healthy, as are her cat, three dogs, and a talking bird her husband acquired in Liverpool. I haven’t seen her for several weeks. I’ve been busy with another matter.”
Emily frowned. “Sounds mysterious.”
“Do tell us,” said Andrew. “You know all of our secrets.”
Ralston sat back and extended his legs. “It seems I am now the guardian of two young girls.”
Emily sat forward, her hand resting on her slightly rounded belly. “This sounds better and better. Do we know the young ladies? Or are they still in the schoolroom?”
“One is Lady Jocelyn, the Countess of Siltsbury’s daughter.”
Andrew sputtered. “Good lord. However did that happen?”
“Wait.” Emily extended her hand. “You said two. Who is the other?”
Ralston hesitated. These two were like family. Totally trustworthy. He’d helped Andrew with a serious personal problem, and Emily was no gossip, having borne the sting of waspish tongues for years before her marriage.
He stood and paced the room, remembering when he did that very thing years ago when Andrew first returned to Cardmore Hall. “It seems Lady Jocelyn has a twin sister. Her name is Jane, and she recently arrived from America.”
“What?” Emily’s eyes grew wide. “I cannot believe it. I know Lady Siltsbury was the daughter of a cit and came into her title when her husband’s elder brother died. I remember Mama commenting once about how ill-suited people endure tragic separations. She named Lord and Lady Siltsbury as her example. I never gave it any thought. One assumed Jocelyn was the only daughter of the marriage.”
“When they separated, Siltsbury took one of the twins with him. He died recently and named me—me of all people—guardian of his daughters.”
“Thinking your father was still alive, I’d bet,” said Andrew.
“Yes.” Ralston sat back in his chair and drained the rest of his brandy.
“What a dilemma.” Emily shook her head. “Has the other twin been raised a lady? How is she getting on with her long-lost family?”
“She’s not. She’s with my aunt in Painswick, and with me. I’m to keep her hidden away for the time being until she learns the ways of the ton.”
Emily shuddered as a knock sounded on the door and a footman entered with a tray. Perhaps she remembered what it was like when she was the object of scandal, or else her sympathetic nature was taking hold.
Emily rose and directed the footman to place the tray next to Ralston. “Here is your dinner. I’m afraid I am going to leave you to it. I am positively drowsy. If you do not mind, I shall see you in the morning.”
“Not at all,” said Ralston. “Thank you again for allowing me to arrive unannounced.”
“Posh. You’re practically family.” She reached out and patted Gilbert’s cheek before exiting the room.
Ralston commenced eating, bringing Andrew up to date between bites. When he finished, he sprawled on his chair. “The worst part of this entire mess is Lady Siltsbury has not yet made an appearance, and I’m afraid the girl is a kettle of boiling resentment. I expect her to explode any day.”
Andrew sipped his tea, and absently stroked the gray-and-white cat that jumped into his lap. “How are you holding up? Eager to be released from your obligation, I would guess, although I couldn’t have had a better person looking after my interests while going through my recent troubles.”
Ralston rose and wandered the room, a nervous habit he’d never outgrown. “Jocelyn is expecting an offer from the Duke of Gresham’s heir. I suspect she’ll be off my hands before Christmas. Jane, her sister, is another matter.”
“How so?”
“Having been raised in America by her father, who never expected to inherit the title, Jane is lacking some of the skills taught to females here. The girl grew up thinking her mother died birthing her. I gather her life in Baltimore was a bit more primitive than if she’d been raised here. Not having a female in her life, her education was more like one would provide a male, and her manners are—how shall I put this—quite democratic. She likes to spend time in the kitchen with the cook and the maids, and she doesn’t seem to have any interest in fashion or fripperies. She can sew, something your Emily would approve. Her other skills have to do with cooking and farming. As far as I know, she has never held a paintbrush and cannot play an instrument.”
“And that is why she was sent to you and your aunt.”
“Indeed, although I must admit she is a quick learner, despite her disdain for societal propriety. Aunt has been teaching her ‘the rules.’ I have been teaching her to dance, and when I return, I shall test her horsemanship.”
“She sounds like a complete disaster, although I hear no disdain in your tone.”
“Despite her shortcomings, I’ve grown quite fond of her, and I fear she will face the dragons of the ton unprepared and suffer at their hands. For that reason—and that one alone—I commend Lady Siltsbury for giving her time to learn and adjust.” He plopped down once again in the chair, realizing how weary he was, and studied the gray-and-white cat in Andrew’s lap. “I only wish Lady Siltsbury herself had been the one to teach her.”
Andrew lifted his eyebrows, a silly smile on his face. “I have an observation.”
“Which is?”
“I believe you care for the girl.”
“Of course I care. I’m her guardian.”
“No, I mean care as in smitten.” Andrew rose and stood in front of Ralston’s chair. “Look me in the face and deny it. Gilbert Carmichael, Earl of Ralston, staunch bachelor, is in love.”
Ralston scoffed and turned awa
y. “Nonsense. I’m the girl’s protector. I may have been thrust into the role, but I take it seriously.”
“Why are you not looking me in the eye? Hmm?”
Ralston turned his head deliberately and gazed at his best friend. “I am not in love.”
Then what was that giddy feeling that encompassed him in her presence? He’d told himself it was affection—the girl needed someone to look after her. She’d lost her father, resented her mother, and had no feelings whatsoever for her sister. She was a lost soul, and Ralston had always succumbed to helping the lost. Cardmore, of all people, should have remembered that fact. He’d once been miserable and alone, addicted to laudanum, in terrible pain from a war wound as well as from actions he’d committed in the past. Who had been there to help him? His best friend of course.
I am not in love. That’s utterly ludicrous.
He swallowed and faced his friend. “The girl—both girls—are my responsibility. They’re nineteen years old and heiresses. I am protecting their finances and their honor. I am performing my duty.” Lord, he sounded pious even to his own ears.
“And as Shakespeare would say, he protesteth too much, or something like that.” Andrew smirked and retreated back to his chair. It was now occupied by the cat. “I’ll not pester you with this observation, my friend. Take care you do not lose your heart to someone you cannot have. It hurts like the devil. I should know.”
“My heart is not engaged, Cardmore. I assure you I am still a confirmed bachelor.”
“As you say.” He picked up the cat and put it outside the drawing room before closing the door gently. “Jane is nearly twenty, and you are only eight or nine years older. In our society that is an appropriate age difference, and if the girl does not learn the ways of the ton, you might be the one who has to lend her your name if indeed you want to protect her.”
Ralston drained his glass and poured another. “I don’t think it will come to that. She and her sister are comely. Jane will eventually have a suitable marriage offer. Perhaps not as grand as Jocelyn’s. I will see that it is appropriate both in the suitor’s age and wealth.”
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