Claiming the Chaperon's Heart

by Anne Herries

  Mama had not been present this evening, because Porky was feeling a bit under the weather, but she was bound to hear of Jane’s success, and it was sure to bring a visit.

  It was not until she was alone in bed that Jane examined her feelings. For a while that evening she had been swept away by the excitement of an evening spent in good company—but now she was alone and the familiar ache and longing for Harry returned.

  It seemed almost a betrayal of her love to have been so happy. Jane liked Lord Frant because he was charming and good company—but it could never be more than liking, of course. Jane’s heart had been given to Harry and she could never love again.

  Chapter Six

  Leaving her brother’s house at a quarter to eleven the next morning, Jane was driven in her carriage with Melia the short distance to Lord Frant’s home. They were admitted by a footman in what looked to be a smart new uniform; he was smiling and seemed very interested in his master’s guests, telling them they were most welcome and must ask him for anything they desired. He had been instructed to take them to a pretty parlour, where they found Lord Frant standing by the window looking out at the gardens through an open French window. He turned instantly, his eyes lighting up as he saw Jane.

  ‘Lady March, Miss Bellingham,’ he said, coming forward to take Jane’s hand. ‘I am delighted you have come, though ashamed of my poor house. It has been treated ill and I must make changes quickly. However, my people are loyal and I have secured the services of an excellent chef. May I offer you some refreshment, ladies?’

  ‘Could we have a small tour of the rooms you wish refurbished first?’ Jane asked, looking about her with interest. She had almost sent to say that she had changed her mind, but now she was glad that she had not been so foolish. All that was required of her was a little advice and surely that was little enough. The room had nice proportions and was furnished properly, but might have been better, in her opinion, since some of the furniture was of too large proportions. ‘This has a pleasant aspect, sir—and those windows let in plenty of light.’

  ‘This and my library house the only decent pieces left to me. My father was forced to pass on the title and the entail, but he left nothing that he believed was his own to dispose of, I think.’ And some things that ought to have been passed to him had been sold, but Paul did not mention this circumstance.

  ‘Yes, I thought something of the sort must have happened. This room should have fine delicate pieces that do not overcrowd it, perhaps—and some of these things might be transferred to another room. Unless you prefer what you have here?’

  ‘Oh, no, my housekeeper did what she could with an almost empty house. You may have remarked that we have no pictures or silver, nor yet any important porcelain.’

  ‘Yes, I have noticed,’ Jane said, believing that frankness was best. ‘Do you wish to make this your principle home, sir?’

  ‘When I am in London, yes. The structure is sound and of course I do have my own estate in the country—not my father’s, which I believe he somehow contrived to leave to his younger son, but one left me by my mother’s father.’

  ‘Yes, I see.’ Jane looked about her again. ‘But you do intend to spend much of your time here?’

  ‘As much as any gentleman of fortune,’ Paul replied. ‘I was left a certain amount through my mother’s family and an uncle...but I was able to make my personal fortune in India. As yet, I have not disposed of much of my land and property out there, for I was not certain of remaining here when I left—but the Company will sell it for me. I do not have many calls on my purse for I am single and I suppose I might support a wife in luxury—if I were to find a lady who could love me for myself.’

  ‘You are very frank, sir, for which I am glad. I shall not scruple to advise you to purchase only the best. Cheap furnishings are always a false economy.’

  ‘Oh, you need not bother to count the pennies; Frant has more than enough to purchase a houseful of furniture,’ Adam said from the doorway. ‘Miss Bellingham, might I show you the garden? There is little to see in the house at the moment.’

  Melia dimpled at him and after a nod to her guardian took Adam’s arm and went out to look at the pretty gardens to the rear. Jane frowned over it for a moment, but decided that there could be little harm in a stroll round the garden on a pleasant morning; they would be in sight of the house at all times, for the gardens were not extensive.

  ‘You may trust Adam, you know,’ Paul said, obviously picking up her doubts. ‘Have you any reason to doubt his behaviour towards my ward?’

  ‘No, none—other than the foolish girl may give her heart where it is not truly wanted.’

  ‘Yes, that is possible,’ Paul agreed and cast a glance after them. ‘I know that Melia’s fortune would not recommend her to him.’

  ‘Perhaps he requires a larger portion,’ Jane said, her gaze very direct. ‘I have not tried to forbid her because it would be useless—but I shall hint her away from him, and you might do the same.’

  ‘I am very sure he would do nothing to disoblige me,’ Paul replied but was thoughtful as he led Jane through the various rooms that contained only the occasional piece of furniture: a very large cabinet that was a fixture and could not easily be moved, and some built-in shelves in an alcove that were rather attractive and had swags of ribbons carved into the wood beneath. Occasional tables, chairs, all small objects that made a house a home, had been removed and there were faded patches on the walls where a mirror or a picture had hung. ‘As you can see, we are in a sad case—but I have found someone to repaper the worst of the rooms. I am told it may be done while I am away at the Newmarket races.’

  ‘That would be excellent,’ Jane agreed. ‘Nothing is more disagreeable than having workmen in when one is in residence. If we ordered the furniture you require and some mirrors, some candlesticks of silver and a few pieces of porcelain, you may buy your pictures at your leisure. I think they should be chosen when one finds something that appeals—furnishing pictures are not to be admired.’

  ‘Yes, I agree. I hear there is an exhibition of new young artists due to start in three weeks. I might find one or two there, though anything of real merit must come through an auction, I think.’

  ‘Yes, I believe that would be best,’ Jane said. ‘If one hears of a country house to be auctioned with all its contents, some fine things may be purchased that way.’ She stopped to admire an exquisite ceiling and a run of long windows. ‘I am glad to see that you do not cover those with drapes, sir. It is a lovely view out to the garden and must be pleasant in here during the summer.’

  ‘Yes, and damned draughty in the winter,’ Paul said and laughed softly. ‘We only ever used this room to entertain; it soon warms up if there are enough guests—but I always preferred my mother’s parlour and the library for comfortable evenings...’

  ‘The rooms we saw first,’ Jane said and nodded. ‘I should certainly prefer your mother’s parlour if it were furnished well—either in the French fashion or that set by Mr Adam, I think. That large Chippendale cabinet would do much better in here, I believe—against that far wall. You should have two settees here, facing each other, and an occasional table to the side. Behind this one you might have an elegant sofa table—indeed, why not order a pair with some important candelabra to set them off? Over there by the window I think a desk of good proportions, a chair to match the sofas at the desk—and at that end of the room a pier table with a shaped mirror above. We might have two areas, one at either end, of a small table and comfortable chairs set conversationally: a pair of fine cabinets against the long wall, flanked by a set of good single chairs, and some display tables between the windows at the back...’

  ‘You make a fine start,’ Paul said and scribbled some notes on the pad he’d brought with him for the purpose.

  ‘You will need things like candle stands, torchieres and a reading frame, but p
erhaps not too many in here. The cabinet makers I have used in the past will send things we like and if we do not find a place for them, they will take them back.’

  ‘I am enthused by your ideas,’ Paul told her. ‘When may we begin?’

  ‘Tomorrow I must wait at home because a young cousin is coming to stay with me and I must be there to greet her,’ Jane said. ‘However, we might make an appointment for Friday morning. Some of what you require will need to be made up for you, and therefore the sooner we start the better...’

  ‘You must not let me take up too much of your time...’

  ‘Oh, I do not often bother with morning engagements,’ Jane said. ‘Melia may be charmed by an alfresco breakfast but I prefer to rise later, do a little shopping, perhaps visit a few friends in the afternoon and then prepare for the evening, for then, you know, we might have three engagements—dinner, a soirée and perhaps a supper and dancing elsewhere...’

  ‘I wish I knew which events you favour,’ Paul said without thinking. ‘I cannot always rely on your mama to tell me.’

  Jane stared at him, a little surprised and wary too. She was prepared for friendship, but was Lord Frant flirting with her?

  ‘I am very sure that some of the events I attend would not amuse you. I dare say you are invited to more than you can attend?’

  ‘I have my fair share of invitations, but some of them hold little interest... Last evening was the first I have managed to meet you in company.’

  Jane’s spine tingled, a little unease creeping into her mind at the exquisite compliment. He was flirting and because of that she made her tone cool as she replied, ‘I cannot think your evening wasted if you do not see me, sir.’

  ‘No, perhaps not,’ he said, recovering his mistake. ‘It was just so pleasant to dance with you. I should not wish to miss a chance to repeat it.’

  ‘Then you must accept all the invitations to balls and dances you receive,’ Jane said and smiled because she could not quite resist.

  ‘Yes, I shall of course be certain of meeting you sometimes then,’ Paul said. ‘In the meantime, perhaps your brother, Melia and yourself would join me for an evening of pleasure at Vauxhall Gardens—unless you have already been invited to such an event?’

  ‘Will has promised to take us one evening,’ Jane replied, ‘but I am sure he would be happy to make up a party with you, sir. You must speak to him. However, I must warn you...’ Jane stopped, her cheeks warm. She had been about to tell him of her brother’s feelings of distrust regarding his friend, but realised that she could not confide such a thing to him. At times she felt he was a friend and to be relied on, but she hardly knew him and must exercise caution for the moment. ‘No matter...I am sure my brother would be happy to see you at any time, sir.’

  His eyes narrowed and she wondered if she had stressed the word you too much, for she did not wish to give offence and Paul Frant was an intelligent man who would not need things spelled out to him. They had returned to the parlour they began with just as Melia and her escort returned from taking the air and therefore no further conversation of an intimate nature took place. She suspected that he might have questioned her on her meaning had they still been alone, but was unable to in the presence of the others.

  Refreshments were brought and they talked of the ball they had all attended and of future engagements, many of which Melia had mentioned to Viscount Hargreaves and which he seemed eager to attend. Jane had noticed that her young friend had seemed a little flushed when they first returned to the parlour, but she gave no sign of distress and seemed in high spirits when they left in Jane’s carriage.

  ‘Adam told me that Lord Frant’s father behaved shamefully to him,’ Melia said, chattering, her eyes very bright. ‘That is why he has to refurbish the house completely—but of course he is very wealthy and can afford to do so.’

  ‘I had understood something of the kind,’ Jane said in a repressive tone. She did not think it seemly of Paul’s friend to have discussed his personal circumstances with a young girl, but felt it unwise to speak against the gentleman to a girl who was clearly enamoured. ‘It is hardly our business to speculate, Melia. I hope you will not speak of this to anyone else. To discuss another person’s wealth is unseemly.’

  ‘Of course I would not.’ Melia flushed and looked uncomfortable. ‘Adam was explaining that he is to go into business with Lord Frant, though he is not wealthy himself for his own estate is but small.’

  ‘Ah, I see.’ Jane gave her a direct look. ‘You speak of the viscount as Adam. Do I take it that he asked you to do so?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Melia smiled saucily at her. ‘Oh, I know better than to do so in Society, but privately we are Adam and Melia.’

  ‘I do not wish to criticise your behaviour,’ Jane said. ‘Yet I am your chaperon and I would not wish you to be hurt...or to be thought fast. It might be prudent to be a little careful, Melia. Viscount Hargreaves is charming, but we know so little of him or his affairs.’

  Melia’s face flushed stubbornly and for a moment she looked as if she would argue, but then she inclined her head. ‘I would never do anything you felt shameful, Lady March. Surely you cannot think it? I am grateful to you for bringing me to London for I am sure you did not want the bother of a young girl.’

  ‘You could never be a bother to me,’ Jane said. ‘Indeed, if you think me harsh I am sorry for I did not mean to scold—I think only of your future, my dear. Both Will and I are very fond of you.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ Melia looked a little ashamed. ‘Pray forgive me, Jane. I did not mean to sound petulant but...the viscount is so flattering and it is nice to have a gentleman say pretty things...’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Jane said. ‘However, some gentlemen say more than they mean. I do not think it of Viscount Hargreaves necessarily, but a little care in one’s dealings with a gentleman one hardly knows...’

  ‘Do you not like him?’ Melia asked, looking bewildered.

  ‘I have formed no opinion,’ Jane said truthfully. ‘However, I do like Lord Frant and I would suppose any friend of his to be a gentleman—but for your own sake, Melia, take your time.’

  ‘Yes, I shall.’ Melia sparkled at her suddenly. ‘He is not the only gentleman to pay me exquisite compliments. I might have had my head turned a dozen times at the ball if I were a foolish child.’

  Jane smiled, the look in the girl’s eyes making her wonder if perhaps Melia was not well able to take care of herself. Perhaps she too was merely flirting and would not lose her heart to a rogue...

  Now why had she thought of Viscount Hargreaves as a rogue? It was not because of her brother’s hints about his card playing... No, more a certain note in his voice when he’d spoken of Paul Frant as having plenty of money to buy a houseful of furniture. Something in his tone and his face had made Jane suspect that underneath the smiles and the assumption of friendship for his host there lay a simmering jealousy.

  * * *

  Melia felt a flicker of guilt as she went upstairs to put off her bonnet before nuncheon. She had lied to Jane about her feelings and her intentions, allowing her to think that she was interested in a score of admirers who had paid her such pretty compliments at the ball, when in truth the only one that made her heart flutter was Adam.

  He had pressed her hand to his lips in the garden, gazing ardently into her eyes as he told her that she was the loveliest girl he’d seen in England and he was rapidly falling under her spell.

  ‘I am so unworthy of you, my dear Miss Bellingham...’

  ‘No, no, do not say so,’ Melia had begged him. ‘You must call me Melia; everyone I like does...’

  ‘In private, perhaps,’ he’d said in a voice husky with passion. ‘I am Adam to you, and you are Melia in my heart—but I can never presume to hope for more than friendship, sweet lady. I have little to offer and, though Frant and I are to go i
nto partnership in the matter of our racing stable, my estate is unable to support the wife I would wish for. In time, perhaps, I shall have my own houses in Ireland, London and perhaps Leicestershire for the hunting—but that may be some years away, and I could not ask any lady to wait for me...’

  Melia’s heart had swelled with a mixture of love and grief. How noble he was in renouncing her because he could not afford to give her the things she deserved. The portion Lord Frant had given her no longer seemed enough, for though it increased her fortune to seven thousand pounds in all, it was not enough to buy her a husband who needed the means to support a wife and live in comfort in the way he described.

  How could Papa have left his whole estate away from his daughters? Melia supposed it must have been worth some twenty thousand pounds or more—which meant she ought to have had ten thousand pounds, not the measly five that Lord Frant had granted her.

  She stared at herself in the dressing mirror, her mouth pulled down in discontent. It was not Adam’s fault that his own father had wasted his inheritance to almost nothing. He’d told her that Lord Frant’s father had done much the same to him.

  ‘It is all right for Paul,’ he’d said and she’d seen his rueful look of regret. ‘He has the luck of the devil. In India we rescued a young prince from a pack of vengeful tribesmen from the hills—but it was he that received the gratitude and rewards from the Prince’s father. I received almost nothing...’

  Melia had been given the impression that Adam had been the principle rescuer and Lord Frant had taken the credit, which had resulted in him becoming the owner of palaces and lands out there in India.

  ‘You should have spoken out,’ Melia had said, outraged on his behalf. ‘Lord Frant should share the rewards with you.’

  ‘He was the one who snatched the Prince from a burning building,’ Adam had said. ‘My men and I made it possible by fighting off the tribesmen, but of course the Prince called Frant his saviour. I did not wish to push myself forward—and the Maharaja sent wine, food and one hundred gold coins, which I shared out amongst my men.’