My Lord Tremaine

by Oliver, Marina

  'Yes, as it is a fine day for once.'

  'One of my grooms will drive the gig back for you, but Jane will be better in the chaise.'

  'Thank you, you are very good to us.'

  'We must look after her. We can't risk her losing the child.'

  Jane said nothing as they were driven back to the Court, huddling in the corner of the chaise. When they reached the Court she broke her silence and insisted on being admitted to the house by a side door.

  'I don't want anyone to see me,' she said.

  Elinor understood. Jane's face was blotched with tears, her hair was untidy, and her gown, after her stays had been loosened, hung droopingly on her.

  They gained her room undetected, and Jane sank down onto the bed. Elinor surveyed her closely. Jane had not been inclined to faint even in the first days of her pregnancy, which Mattie had said was often the case. What had caused this?

  'Jane, do you feel ill?'

  Jane looked up at her, struggling to suppress a renewed bout of tears.

  'That man, Mr Costain,' she said hesitantly. 'It must be Richard.'

  *

  Edmund was puzzled by his cousin's sudden docility. The man looked half asleep most of the time, and had not even ridden out. His mother had noticed too, and fussed around him until he was jolted out of his apathy and shouted at her, saying he could not endure being so harassed.

  He called William into the library the day after Jane's visit to Mrs Craven.

  'I have been thinking,' he said, pouring out some Madeira and handing a glass to William. 'Your house in Bude is not very big, I understand, not big enough for you to house your mother and sister. What you need there is another Dower House. Why do you not visit it and see what could be arranged?'

  William stared at him, then shrugged.

  'Where can I find the money to build another house?'

  'I understand your disappointment at losing my title and income, and had it in mind to make you an allowance. I will do that, and I will pay for a house for your mother. A modest one,' he added swiftly. 'I suggest you do not consult her about the design!'

  William gave a crack of laughter.

  'If I did she'd want one as big as the Court.'

  'Do you have enough land to build on, or must you buy?'

  William was looking thoughtful, frowning in concentration. Then he glanced up at Edmund, and smiled. It was the friendliest face he had shown him since Edmund's return.

  'I have sufficient land, but I would not wish for her to be so close. Would you, if she were your mother? Though Lady Tremaine is a tartar, she is less difficult than my parent! Let me think. I own a small farm a few miles inland, and the tenant there died last year. It is not a productive farm, I got little enough rent for it even when he was alive, and I have not yet found anyone else willing to take it on. Having spent time here has not helped. I could rent the land separately. But the farmhouse is in good repair. It is small, but I could enlarge it. I could add a wing, enough to satisfy my dear mother. At least, she will have to be satisfied with it.'

  'Does she have any income of her own? Did your father not settle money on her? And on Amelia?'

  'Oh yes, she has sufficient, but she prefers to be supported by me. That will end, once I have her in a different house. Somehow, since we have been here, she has changed. And she has been even more bitter than I was since your resurrection. It has been as though you came back on purpose to injure her.'

  He said he would leave on the following day, but asked that his mother not be told of his true purpose.

  'I will tell her I need to settle some business with the man renting my house, that cannot be done by letter.'

  They parted on better terms than any since Edmund's return. Edmund was satisfied, and he felt pleased to have given Jane some respite. He would, while William was away, himself make a quick journey to London.

  *

  'Richard? The man you gave the miniature to?'

  Jane nodded. 'How many men are there named Costain, who have been in the West Indies? He must have come here to find me.' She dissolved into more tears. 'It's too late! Oh, Elinor, how can I bear it! After being reminded of him, how can I endure William for the rest of my life?'

  Elinor could offer no comfort. She put Jane to bed, and left Mattie with her while she went downstairs. Jane petulantly said she wanted nothing to eat, and Elinor left Mattie scolding her, saying she needed to take care not only of herself, but of the child she carried. She went to the kitchens and asked Molly to take some soup and chicken up to Jane, knowing that with Mattie's gentle bullying Jane would be forced to eat some of it.

  Edmund announced his plans to travel to London, leaving on the following day and travelling post. William was also going away for a few days, for he had business to deal with at Bude. Both mothers were predictably annoyed.

  'You did not tell me you intended to go,' Mrs Tremaine said. 'I have some commissions you could have undertaken, and I could have given you letters to take to my friends, but you leave me no time to write them.'

  'I won't have time to ride round to all your friends,' William said, permitting his irritation to show. 'That would take me at least two more days, and I do not plan to be away for longer than necessary.'

  Lady Tremaine was equally irritated.

  'I intended to come with you to London,' she said. 'I am planning to take Diana there, but we cannot get ready in such a scrambling way. You will delay this visit until it is convenient for us.'

  'I should have gone long since,' Edmund said. 'If you wish to visit London you do not need my escort. You have footmen and other servants enough, and you may use the travelling carriage. But I would have thought July was not a good time to be in London, since everyone you will want to see will have departed to Brighton or the country.'

  'You are being inconsiderate, and impolite to your guest. I can't think what Diana feels about the way she is being treated.'

  Edmund made no reply, and both mothers continued to grumble for the rest of the meal. Diana pouted, but contrived to speak about the pleasures in store when Edmund and William had concluded their business.

  'For men always have such tedious matters to attend to, which we poor females are not meant to understand.'

  Elinor was hard put to it to restrain her giggles, and once, when she caught Edmund's eye and saw his own amusement, she had quickly to bury her face in her napkin and counterfeit a coughing fit.

  When the ladies, for once in agreement about the inconsiderate behaviour of their sons, left the room she made her excuses and went up to Jane. Her sister was asleep, and in whispers Elinor told Mattie they might relax their vigilance for a while, when William was away.

  'If only he were going for months!' Mattie said. 'But that news will cheer her.'

  *

  Edmund left after breakfast, in his own chaise, and William, without coming to speak to Jane, soon afterwards. He was riding, and told his valet to take a holiday. Edmund was taking Barton with him, and said he would order more fashionable coats while he was in town.

  'As though we could not have bought gowns too,' Diana said. 'All of mine are sadly out of date.'

  'Never mind, you will want new ones next Season,' Lady Tremaine consoled her. 'If – well, you understand, my dear,' she said, with a glance at Elinor.

  'She meant she could buy her bride clothes,' Elinor said later to Jane. 'His mother certainly intends Edmund to marry her.'

  'Then I trust she has more bride clothes than I had,' Jane said. 'I do not have one decent gown, and when we have visitors I feel so ashamed.'

  Elinor suppressed her instinctive response, asking how many visitors they ever had at the Court. Jane was almost certainly thinking Richard Costain would come to see her. He would by now, on enquiry at the Parsonage, have learned of her father's death and Jane's marriage. Surely that would deter him from making contact?

  Jane continued to complain about how William had refused to purchase gowns for her while they were at Exmouth. Diana
looked at her in amazement.

  'You had a honeymoon at Exmouth?' she demanded. 'Was that the best place you could persuade a new husband to take you?'

  Jane frowned, but Mrs Tremaine looked scornfully at Diana.

  'It is a perfectly respectable place,' she snapped. 'And where my son chooses to take his wife, and what he chooses to spend on her, is none of your concern, Miss! She does not need the sort of fripperies you seem to consider essential.'

  Diana laughed. 'Well, when I am married I certainly will not put up with that kind of treatment! A new bride must have many advantages, and if she cannot do better than Exmouth, then I pity her chances of ever being able to influence William! And no new gowns even, when anyone can see how unfashionable hers are. Doesn't he give you an allowance, pin money?' she asked.

  Jane flushed, but it was Elinor who replied, her voice rigid with anger.

  'That, Diana, is none of your business!'

  The girl ignored the rebuke, and rested her chin on her hand while she looked at Jane.

  'Surely you can afford to buy some muslins, and I hear you were famous for your sewing before you married William. Nightcaps, though. Perhaps a gown would be more than your skills are capable of.'

  'Jane is gowned appropriately,' Mrs Tremaine said. 'We are not all of us the spoilt daughters of wealthy merchants.'

  Diana shrugged. 'And I was even going to offer to take both Jane and Elinor to Plymouth, and make sure you bought new gowns. You need some too, Elinor.'

  'I don't think we need your advice,' Elinor said. 'Come Jane, let us walk in the gardens, where the air is sweeter.'

  *

  It was a silent group of ladies who gathered later for dinner. Diana, with no men to appreciate her chatter, was silent. Lady Tremaine was still muttering angrily about Edmund's lack of consideration for her. Mrs Tremaine talked exclusively to Amelia, wondering just what business it was that had taken William away so suddenly, and though Elinor attempted to make conversation, no one supported her. Jane pushed her food around her plate, occasionally frowning at Diana.

  Lady Tremaine suddenly turned to Mrs Tremaine.

  'Have you been to see the Dower House lately?' she demanded. 'Edmund has had the major repairs done, and it is fit for occupation. I think it is time you and Amelia went to live there.'

  Mrs Tremaine looked up, startled by this sudden attack.

  'I have informed Edmund that it is not convenient, for just a few months until we can return home to Bude.'

  'Would you not prefer to be there, where you can order things as you like? You may take a couple of maids, unless you prefer to hire your own. I believe Rosie is still in the village, and she would suit you. She can still work until her bastard is born. I understand it is expected in October.'

  'Have a slut like that in my house? Why hasn't she been drummed out of the village?'

  'Mrs Craven took her in. A mistake, of course, but she was always soft hearted. Rosie could work for you, for a short while, and I understand she means to give the child to the orphanage. The best place for it. And it would please your son to be rid of it, surely?'

  Diana was looking at Lady Tremaine, puzzled.

  'Why would William be pleased?' she asked, and then clapped her hand over her mouth. 'Oh, is he – was he – surely he is not in love with a skivvy?' She looked at Jane. 'Is that why you always look so unhappy? Has he been unfaithful to you? And with a servant! And so soon after he married you, too.'

  'I'll thank you to hold your tongue, Miss! My son has nothing to do with that slut, and I want nothing to do with her either.'

  Elinor could not resist.

  'Rosie became pregnant in January or February,' she said quietly. 'Jane was married in April. Do some sums, Diana.'

  Mrs Tremaine glared at Elinor.

  'This conversation is unedifying, with you two unmarried girls talking of such matters.'

  'I agree. Come, Jane, you are looking weary, you need to go to bed. Pray excuse us, my lady, from the drawing room.'

  *

  'Where is Jane?'

  Mattie looked up from the preserves she was dealing with.

  'Jane? She said she would rest in her room, and as William is not here I left her alone.'

  'She isn't there now, and her pelisse is missing.'

  Mattie sighed, and laid down the spoons she had been wielding.

  'Elinor, dear, don't fret. She has probably just gone for a walk in the garden.'

  'It's cold, there is a north wind blowing. Jane would not go out in it. I wonder?'

  'What are you thinking?'

  'I'm going to the stables. She may have taken out the gig.'

  Mattie shook her head.

  'You know she does not like driving, even with that slow nag that usually pulls it.'

  'I must check.'

  Elinor ran down the stairs and out into the stableyard. She saw at once that the gig was not in its usual place under the roof which protected it and some farm carts. One of the grooms, emerging from a loose box, looked enquiringly.

  'Have you seen my sister?' Elinor demanded.

  'Aye, Miss. She went out in the gig.'

  'Was she driving?'

  'Oh no, she had Bert to drive. Said she needed to go to the village.'

  'Thank you.'

  Elinor, with one anxiety removed, went slowly back into the house. She waited in Jane's room, and an hour later Jane, looking back over her shoulder, slipped into the room, leaned against the door, and breathed a sigh of relief. Then she saw Elinor and seemed to sag.

  'Where have you been? The Black Bull?'

  Jane walked forward, cast off her pelisse, and sat down facing her sister.

  'Yes, of course. Elinor, please understand! I could not rest until I knew whether it was truly Richard.'

  'Why did you not ask me to take you? You were hoping no one would find out, weren't you?'

  'Of course. Oh, I don't mind you knowing, but if Lady Tremaine or William's mother discovered it, just think what they would believe, and say! They are dragons! I could not have borne it!'

  'They would have been less suspicious if I had taken you. What if Bert talks, and it gets back to the dragons you visited an inn to see a man?'

  'He doesn't know. I said I wanted to purchase something from the shop, and sent him to take a letter to Mrs Craven while I went to the Bull. I wrote to thank her for sending us home in her chaise. It is my Richard, and he came to find me. His uncle has died, and left him the plantation. Oh Elinor, what can I do?'

  She began to weep, and Elinor, usually so sympathetic, remained seated and unresponsive.

  'He – he still loves me!' Jane whispered. 'If only I had known, and not married William!'

  'You were too eager for a title.'

  'And I have been punished enough!'

  'Did anyone else see you?'

  'I spoke to Richard in the coffee room. There was just one old man there, but he was snoring away in front of the fire. A fire in July! He did not hear what we said, and we were discreet. We were,' she insisted as she saw Elinor's expression. 'All we did was shake hands. And Davey, who is running the inn, did not see me, it was one of the tapsters who brought us some wine. Don't worry, he wasn't anyone I knew.'

  'Are you foolish enough to believe he will not mention it? A lady of quality seeking out one of the guests? Even if he did not know your name, someone will have seen the gig and Bert.'

  'But I had no choice!'

  'You forgot him when you became betrothed to Edmund, and married to William. What does he mean to do, your Richard?'

  Jane turned away, picked up her pelisse and hung it in the wardrobe.

  'He means to visit friends, before he returns to the West Indies,' she said, her voice muffled in the clothes.

  'And not see you again? Jane, you must forget him! Your marriage is difficult enough. What do you think William would do if he discovered it?'

  'William doesn't love me.'

  'No, but you are a possession, and he will not tolera
te you having any dealings with another man.'

  'I know. Elinor, stop scolding me! I need to lie down until it is time for dinner. Please leave me alone!'

  Elinor left the room. She did not believe her sister. She was sure Jane would have made plans to meet Richard again, and could not accept she had been satisfied with one brief meeting at the Bull. She went to her own room to sit and try to think what disaster threatened, and how she could prevent it. Most importantly of all, none of the other ladies at the Court must hear of it.

  *

  Jane's silence at dinner was unremarked. She looked pale, and said she was not feeling well. The older ladies ignored her. Mrs Tremaine was enumerating all the difficulties and disadvantages that would occur if she had to remove to the Dower House, while Lady Tremaine, after one prediction that Edmund would soon overcome them, spoke only to Diana and began making plans to go to London for the Little Season.

  They had almost finished and the servants had left the room, when there were noises in the hall which sounded like an arrival, and the door burst open to admit William's brother George. He was wearing riding breeches and boots, wore a Belcher handkerchief round his neck, sported a cloak with a dozen capes, and carried gloves and a whip

  'How now, ladies? Gooch tells me William and Edmund are away from home,' he said, 'So that leaves me to entertain you. Mother, I hope you are well,' he said, coming to kiss her. 'And Amelia, as pretty as ever!'

  He shrugged out of his cloak, threw himself down into a chair, and handed the whip and gloves to Gooch.

  'Goodness, I'm famished, I rode so far today. Gooch, bring me some food, I pray you, and wine.'

  Gooch had followed him into the room, and nodded, turning to give a footman instructions. He brought George a glass and filled it from a decanter still on the table. George drained it in one gulp and held it out to be refilled.

  'Do you mean to sit down with us in all your dirt?' Lady Tremaine demanded. 'If you have brought any other clothes with you, pray have the goodness to change before you join us.'

  'You must know there is no goodness in me. My gear hasn't arrived yet, my dear aunt, so I beg your indulgence. Mama does not object, do you Mama?'

  Lady Tremaine frowned, but short of ordering the servants to throw him out of the room, there was nothing she could do.