by Edith Layton
They spent the bright morning wandering marble halls, causing those cold corridors to ring with their muted laughter. Jessica felt comfortable with her escort once again, but now and again, as she looked up at his unguarded face while he delivered himself of some impossibly amusing commentary, she felt a distinct thrill of unease. But she did not spend too much time puzzling at how someone who was fast becoming a close friend could also be someone she could not entirely trust. For the moment it was enough for her that it was the best day she had yet passed in town. That was, she amended silently, if one did not count the other day in the park. So, even though she had never considered herself a great art lover, she was distinctly regretful when they at last left the museum and stepped forth into a rare spring day.
It was so fine a day that the young man unpacked his bags with haste, not wishing to spend any more time than was absolutely necessary settling himself into his new digs. Since he was accustomed to traveling lightly, it did not take him long to empty his bags into the wardrobe of his small bedroom. He had, he thought as he stowed the last of his garments, paid far too much for so mean an accommodation. But since he wished to present a respectable face to the world, he had to take rooms in a decent hotel, even though, being an ex-army man, he would have been content to camp out in any lodgings where there was room to lay his head. It was a lot of blunt to expend, he frowned, but then he did not expect his mission to take long to accomplish.
It took far longer for him to adjust his person to his satisfaction than it did for him to secure his belongings. It was, after all, important to look well, for he knew that his appearance was to be an important tool for his new endeavor. Not that Jess would notice, or care, for she already approved of him, thanks to her half-daft father’s influence. His face, form, or attire would not mean a thing to her, any more than they would to any other young lad who recognized an old companion from home. But he could not look rustic in comparison with other gentlemen in London, for she had eyes, even if they were not precisely looking for the same things other females were. There were doubtless relatives or protectors other than Sir Ollie whom he must impress.
Thomas Preston gazed at his reflection with satisfaction. His neckcloth was dazzlingly clean and his jacket fitted well. His boots, of course, were spotless, for certain habits the army had ingrained were never lost. He did not look at his face at all. That, he knew without conceit, was more than acceptable. It was perhaps, he thought wryly, his greatest asset. And with it, he must make his gamble for his fortune.
There was no other way open to him, he thought, resting his hands upon the dressing table and searching beyond the looking glass he faced. He had stormed out from Jeremiah Cribb’s gloomy study furious with the man for thinking he could be bought. Yet even then he had not insulted him or burned his bridges. For even while he fed his rage, a small part of his mind had been working on possibilities. Once he had achieved the room in Lord Cuthbert’s great house where he went over his employers’ accounts, he had buried himself in work.
But he had not accomplished much when his employer came in and greeted him in the usual hearty, boisterous voice he used with all his employees.
“Still at work, Tom?” he had boomed. “Take a rest, lad, it’s noon and even the housemaids are relaxing. Actually, I’ve come to tell you that you’ll have a few days off soon. Lady Mary and I are off to the Midlands for a celebration. That’s right,” he said as Tom’s head came up. “M’niece has bagged herself a husband. Little minx has got Cumberland fast in her net. Quite a catch, eh? You shouldn’t be surprised, I recall she even had you in a dither when she visited us here.”
“Cumberland?” was all that Tom could answer, thinking the only man he knew by that name was an aged nobleman, at least thirty years senior to the vivacious, giddy young woman he had known, the young woman he had kissed tenderly in secret, the young woman who for all her lightheadedness had a fortune as dowry and who had hinted that she would have him as husband as soon as she could convince her parents of her earnest intent.
“Aye, Cumberland,” his employer had said with satisfaction. “She’s a clever little puss, for he’s worth a fortune. No one thought he’d marry again, for he’s already got himself heirs. But she sent him mad with jealousy, Mary says, and he finally took the bit in his teeth. It’ll be quite a wedding,” he mused.
“But he’s old enough to be her father,” was the only answer Tom could blurt out.
“What’s that to say to anything?” Lord Cuthbert had! said angrily, annoyed at having his niece’s coup denigrated, and assuming the role of employer again, he said abruptly, “He’s a belted Earl, and swimming in lard. So, Tom, take off a few days. Don’t worry, I’ll pay the usual,” he added diffidently, to pay Tom back for his presumption.
That evening Tom Preston had gone around to the Oak and Crown and waited for Polly to finish her chores there. He had brooded as he drank and fretted as he chatted with the farmers, laborers, and minor landowners who frequented the place. Much later, as he lay in Polly’s bed and she slept soundly, worn out by her labors, both in the taproom and in his arms, he had thought long and silently. At dawn, he had risen and placed some sovereigns by her pillow. That was the way of the world, highborn or lowbred, he thought as he drew his clothes on. He could see no difference between Polly’s way of earning extra funds and Lord Cuthbert’s niece’s mode of ensuring her future. If anything, he thought, Polly was the more honest of the two. And while doubtless the honorable Miss Cuthbert did not have such grimy feet, nor would her sheets be as gritty, she would soon be performing the same services for pay as well.
But he would not, he constantly assured himself as he took his first salary from Jeremiah Cribb and made his preparations to leave. He would not sell himself or his services, he reminded himself as he bade his family farewell and told Lord Cuthbert of the urgent family business he had to attend to in London. Though Jess’s cousin thought he was in his snare, he would not be so caught.
He felt better about what he was about to do, he mused all the while he rode the pike toward the great city, than he had about attempting to woo and win his treacherous heiress. For he would be doing Jess a service, while neatly outwitting Cribb. No, he thought now, locking his light-blue gaze onto his own eyes in the glass, Cribb, you do not know your man, not at all. You’ll be caught in a trap of your own devising. There’s a possibility you’ve overlooked in your greed. For though I shall locate Jess’s treasure, it won’t be for you. I shall have it and the blessings of our dear departed Red Jack as well. For I shall marry Jess and you shall have nothing but the taste of ashes in your mouth.
Rather than selling myself, he thought as he straightened und prepared to pay a call on Sir Selby, I shall be doing a sort of missionary work. I won’t be a preferred suitor, for I haven’t a penny piece. But doubtless there’s not a man in London willing to wed such a half-woman, and more to the question, there’s not a man Jess would be willing to wed. I’ve had Red Jack’s approval in the past and I’ve Jess’s admiration now, and with all her lack of femininity, I’ve tasted her lips and they are woman enough for me. And if not, he shrugged as he paused in his doorway, her legacy will buy compensation enough. And what else is there for the poor chit if I don’t, he decided as he strolled out, besides a lifetime squabbling with Cribb and the tender affections of a great hound? Then he laughed aloud at his next thought, startling a servant who was polishing the staircase railings. At least, he concluded, I shall be a comrade who shan’t give her fleas.
Sir Selby was delighted. Any passerby could see that. He walked alongside his younger companion, his face wreathed in smiles.
“But Jess will be tickled,” he said for the third time since he had set out from his house, “she will be beyond everything excited. Not that she hasn’t been having a merry old time since she got here, but having both you and I with her will be just like old times, and perhaps she’ll leave off grieving for Red Jack now. Not that she’s solemn, understand, but I’ve always felt she
hasn’t quite gotten over his loss. Seeing us together will remind her of the good times. “Y’know,” he said confidentially, “I always agreed with him that you oughtn’t to have sold out, but now I see that there’s a reason for everything.”
“Ah, but I shan’t stay here forever,” the slender blond young man replied. “I’m only down for a brief visit.”
“Any time that you spend here you’ll be welcome,” Sir Selby said happily. “Put her more at ease.”
“How long is she to remain with your friend?” the younger man asked carelessly.
“No telling,” Sir Selby said, a slight cloud passing over his face. “That damned lawyer fellow keeps talking about the inquiries he’s making and letters he’s expecting.”
“And,” Tom Preston asked carefully, “then she’ll have her fortune?”
“No saying,” the older gentleman replied. “At first thought it was all a hoax, but now ... Still,” he went on shaking his head. “I wish I could believe it. You know what a wild man Red Jack was with money. He couldn’t let two coins keep company in his pocket above an hour. No, the best thing for Jess would be for her to get hitched up with some well-breached fellow.”
“I agree,” Tom Preston said on a laugh, “but does Jess?”
“There’s the rub,” his companion said ruefully. “But just wait till you see the wonders Lady Grantham has done with her. And with her nevy, Alex, my old friend, to see her into Society, and with you here now to drop a word or two into" her ear, we may yet see her safely off into marriage before she knows what she’s about. Would you be willing to talk to her about it?” he added anxiously.
“Of course,” the younger gentleman said pensively. “But even if between us all we can get her to see the advantages of that leap, it won’t be that easy for an undowered female to make a catch on the marriage mart. For if Red Jack’s legacy proves to be a bubble, Jess will hardly be sought after for her fortune.”
“Oh, as to that,” Sir Selby said dismissively, “I’ve quite a bit put aside for her, but she’s not to know of it, don’t you know. All I have for family are a parcel of nephews waiting for my breath to cool before they pounce on my estate. I’d be a poor specimen if I didn’t provide for my best friend’s daughter. She’ll be well-dowered, even if all that mad rogue left her was a button. So you’ll have a word with her, will you, my boy? Because for all she looks a female now, I’ve a suspicion she still thinks like a lad.”
“Certainly,” Tom Preston said at length, “I promise to g make every effort to see her wed.”
The two gentlemen paused in the street. The elder espied a carriage that was drawing up to the curbside.
“What fun,” Sir Selby said, all abeam again, “for here they come now. Just wait till she sees your face, lad. That will be a rare treat.”
The carriage halted and a young boy swung off the driver’s platform and raced to let down the steps. Sir Selby ignored the footman that had come from the house to assist the occupants to alight, and gave his hand to a tall elderly dame who greeted him with a pleased, “Hallo, Ollie, you’re just in time for tea.”
Tom looked beyond the modishly attired young woman who alighted next in an effort to catch a glimpse of the expression on Jess’s face as she first saw him. But then, when all he saw was a very tall aristocratic gentleman emerge, he swung his gaze back to the young woman, who was standing stock-still on the pavement, gaping at him.
They stood thus, the slim young man with bright-yellow hair and the fashionable young woman with a blazing crown of lustrous red hair visible beneath her bonnet, simply staring at each other for a moment. Then, with a cry of pure joy, the young woman launched herself into his arms. She embraced him impulsively, then stood back and seemed suddenly abashed at her temerity. A slow flush suffused her face. He, oblivious to the raised eyebrow of the tall gentleman who stood watching them, and to the bemused expression on the elderly female’s face, slowly took in the young woman’s appearance. She wore a draped walking dress of white with sprigs of green, and her face was radiant, her form so exquisite he was momentarily speechless.
“Lord, Jess,” he then breathed, unwittingly repeating words she had heard so long ago and had never forgotten, “you’ve changed.”
And she, as though reliving another scene on another day, looked down at herself and said in a low, hurt voice. “Never say you don’t know me, Tom.”
“I’d know you, Jess, whatever your getup,” he answered with that slow dangerous smile lighting up his lean countenance, and his words neatly overlapping another’s so as to obscure and heal them forever. “How could I not? But give me a moment to get my breath back, for I think I’m imagining things. Lord, Jess, you look just as I always thought you should when you grew up. It’s a pity Red Jack isn’t here. He would be proud of you, you do him honor.”
“But I don’t know the young man, Jessica,” another cool voice cut in, breaking into the intimate conversation.
Jessica turned swiftly and said happily, “Oh, Alex, this is Thomas Preston, a very dear old friend. And Thomas, this is Alexander, Lord Leith, Lady Grantham’s nephew and a new friend of mine. I’m sure you two will take to each other. Oh, this is lovely. Now you’re here, we’ll have the best times together.”
The two men stood and appraised each other. Cool gray eyes exchanged looks with cold blue orbs. Each man bowed and each murmured the proper greetings. Neither took their gaze from the other until Lady Grantham, sensing something in the air that was not in concert with the fine spring day, said hastily, “And since Selby here is beaming so much, he’s forgotten my name. I am Lady Grantham. And I would like my tea, I’m quite worn out with enlightening myself. Should you care to join us, Mr. Preston?”
“Of course he will,” Sir Selby said immediately, “won’t you, my boy?”
“Of course,” Tom Preston replied sweetly, “with the greatest pleasure.”
They mounted the steps to the town house. Sir Selby assisted Lady Grantham and Jessica, who had been prepared to skip happily between the two younger men, found herself at once with her hand taken by Tom Preston and placed lightly upon his arm. As they began to go up the stairs together, she asked at once, “And how is Ralph?”
But Lord Leith, who still stood for a moment on the sidewalk watching the pair, did not hear the low, murmured answer, only her delighted laughter drifting back toward him.
7
Lady Grantham poured the tea for the impromptu party, even though in ordinary circumstances she would have delegated that simple ceremony to her younger female guest. But since she had observed that young woman attempting to do the task on a previous day, she very wisely filled the teacups herself and only suggested that Jessica hand them about to the company. It was simply amazing, the elder woman thought fleetingly as she filled the last of the delicate cups, that a girl with such slender graceful hands should have held the handle of the pot as though it were red-hot, and managed to slop most of the liquid upon her own lap. The thought that such a skill had to be acquired by a young lady, instead of being bone-bred, was one that had never occurred to her until she had seen Jessica leave the simple afternoon tea with skirts asop and face almost as flaming red as her hair. That father, Lady Grantham growled to herself, had much to answer for, wherever he now was, although she thought she could hazard a guess as to his present whereabouts.
They had politely discussed the weather. Tom Preston had been gently but thoroughly catechized about his family and prospects by his hostess. Sir Selby had just begun to explain sadly that he could not lend Tom a mount for his stay in London, as he had given up his stables due to his advancing age, when that young man had put a light note into the general conversation.
“Red Jack, though, I should imagine he would have ridden well into his dotage, Ollie. I used to wonder when I was a lad if he took his horse to bed with him, since I never saw him when he was not astride some magnificent animal or other.”
“Oh, he was a rare terror on a horse,” Sir Selby said happ
ily as Jessica laughed and assured Tom that her father never even thought of taking his horse into the parlor, much less the bedroom.
“And a lucky thing too,” Tom Preston said, grinning at Jessica, “for if he’d gotten that idea into his head, there would have been a rare scene if you had objected.”
“He never was one to have his will crossed,” Sir Selby reminisced. “Did he ever tell you about the time we ran out of fresh meat in Seville, Jess?”
“Lud, yes,” Jessica crowed, clapping her hands together in delight. “I wish I could have been there!”
Seeing her face alight with joy and her eagerness to tell the tale to someone new, Lord Leith leaned forward and encouraged her gently to tell the story.
But it was Sir Selby who told it. He had interrupted so often to correct minor details that soon Jessica gave up and sat back happily to listen to him relate it.
When Sir Selby’s memory flagged, either Jessica or Tom would prompt him. So the incident, which had to do with a great deal of confusion on the part of ranking officers, and skullduggery on the part of Red Jack in procuring a stolen chicken from villagers, was spun out for everyone.
Lady Grantham was heartily bored by it, and even Lord Leith wore a polite but strained smile. For, as is so often the case with a well-beloved story that people have shared in their common past about a personage best known to themselves, it was dull and pointless to those who had never heard it before.
When Jessica, Tom, and Sir Selby had recovered themselves, only occasionally wiping their eyes or letting out little fond chuckles, Lord Leith turned to the fair-haired young man who sat beside him and said offhandedly, “Since Selby has given his nags to pasture, I’d be pleased to offer you one of my mounts. I keep a fair-sized stable here in town, and I’ve a bay that would suit you well, I think.”
