Jaded Moon (Ransomed Jewels Book 2)

by Laura Landon

  If Josie Foley kept to her schedule, she would be at the foundling home now like she was every afternoon, and he could discuss his idea with Lady Clythebrook without her there to put down every item he proposed. Because somehow he knew she would. At first, at least. Until she found out about the added income for the orphanage.

  Ross turned his mount down the long tree-lined lane that led to Clythebrook Manor. The ancient, three-story stone country house still stood majestically on the top of a small rise, but the once carefully-tended lawns and gardens were now threatened with weeds and scraggly bushes. A double row of spreading linden trees flanked the manor house on two sides, yet beneath the lush branches, dozens of saplings sprouted in wild abandon. Ross looked, but there wasn’t a single gardener tending what must have once been a well-landscaped lawn.

  He rode his horse to the apex of the semi-circular drive and dismounted. At Rainforth Park, where he’d spent a month or so during every summer in a life he seldom let himself remember, one of a dozen or more stable hands would have been standing ready to take charge of a horse or carriage before any guest could even dismount. The lack of even one servant to care for his horse sent a distinct message. Ross looped his reins through a ringed brass pole and made his way to the front door and lifted the ornate knocker.

  After several long minutes, a very distinguished-looking elderly gentleman in faded maroon and black livery greeted him. Although well past his prime, the butler exhibited an austere demeanor Ross was accustomed to from the well-trained, professional staff his father had employed.

  “Good day,” Ross said, remaining on the pillared portico. “I’d like to speak with Lady Clythebrook.”

  “And who may I say is calling?”

  “The Marquess of Rainforth, from St. Stephen’s Hollow.”

  The butler gave a curt nod and stepped back to allow Ross to enter the circular foyer. “Won’t you please come in?” he said, taking Ross’s hat and placing it on a table beside the door. “I’ll see if Lady Clythebrook is receiving.”

  Ross watched the butler climb the winding staircase, then let his gaze move over the interior of Lady Clythebrook’s home. The vestibule was bright and cheery with radiant streams of sunlight that poured in from the four wide, floor-to-ceiling windows that bracketed the entrance. Ross could imagine Josephine Foley standing in this hall, her golden hair bathed in sunlight. An uncomfortable weight settled low in his gut and he pushed the unwelcome image away.

  The furniture was of exquisite taste and quality, although the few pieces that dotted the room were far from new. An ornate receiving table sat in the center of the vestibule atop a round Turkish carpet. Ross could only imagine how vibrantly beautiful the colors had been before the carpet had lost its battle to the constant abuse of the sun.

  He looked from one side of the room to the other. Everything shone as if routinely polished with loving care. Even the crystal chandelier hanging high from the two-story ceiling gleamed from recent attention. If he were forced to search for a word to describe the feelings he perceived standing here it would be—comfortable.

  Even though he was a stranger to this house, he felt welcome here. The walls were a pale yellow that he guessed hadn’t seen a fresh coat of paint for years, but there was an inviting homey air that even the threadbare carpet leading up the curved staircase couldn’t diminish. Ross smiled. His father would have been appalled. But strangely, to Ross it didn’t seem to matter. It only made the house more inviting.

  He clasped his hands behind his back and made a complete circle of his surroundings. Several doors led off the foyer, but only one stood open. Before he could amble over to see what room it might be, the butler returned.

  “Lady Clythebrook will see you. If you’ll please follow me.”

  Instead of showing Ross up the stairs as was customary, the butler led the way across the vestibule to the open doorway he’d noticed before.

  “Lady Clythebrook will be down momentarily,” he said, stepping aside to let Ross enter.

  “Thank you.”

  With a slight nod, the butler backed from the room, leaving Ross alone.

  This room held the same inviting warmth he’d felt upon entering the house. A huge fireplace took up most of the opposite wall, but there was no fire burning in the grate.

  Two burgundy chairs with matching ottomans flanked the fireplace, while a matching settee and small table sat off to the side. An ornate writing desk sat in front of a large multi-paned window on the opposite side of the room and another cluster of chairs was positioned close to a curtained French door that led out onto a patio.

  Ross stepped to the opening and noticed there was a surprisingly well-tended garden beyond the paned door. Someone had obviously taken great care to tend this one spot near the house. Lady Clythebrook, perhaps. Or even Miss Foley. He could imagine her kneeling in the soft black earth with her hands in the loose, moist soil. He shook his head, not at all comfortable with where his thoughts were leading. With a raspy clearing of his throat, he turned his attention back to his surroundings.

  A large portrait of a very distinguished-looking gentleman with silver hair and eyes that shone with a sparkle of intelligence hung above the mantel on the opposite side of the room. Ross was drawn to his infectious smile and thought the man would have been someone he would have enjoyed knowing.

  “That was my husband. The Earl of Clythebrook.”

  Ross spun around as the Countess of Clythebrook stepped into the room. Her butler walked close to her side in case she needed assistance, but she didn’t reach out to him. She relied instead on the ivory-handled cane in her hand.

  “I gathered as much,” he said, stepping forward to offer her his arm. She took it with a smile.

  Her step was hesitant as she leaned with aging grace against him, and Ross noticed the butler stayed at his post until she waved him away. Then he closed the door behind him and they were left alone, staring at the portrait.

  “He was a remarkable man with a good sense for business as well as a humorous outlook on life.”

  The longing in her eyes when she stared at her late husband’s portrait spoke volumes. “You were very fortunate then.”

  “Yes, I was. I’m reluctant to admit, however, I haven’t done nearly so well at managing since he died.”

  “Running an estate is not easy,” he said, standing next to her. “I haven’t met your steward but I’m sure my man, Mr. Thompkins, knows him.”

  The open smile on her face when she lifted her gaze stopped his words.

  “I’m afraid you are looking at the only steward Clythebrook Estates has.”

  “You, my lady?”

  She laughed. “Yes. Although, in actuality, it’s Josephine who sees to everything.”

  “Miss Foley?”

  “Yes. She took over the daily running of the estate even before my husband died nearly ten years ago.”

  “Before? But that means she was scarcely—”

  “She was seventeen when Walter died.”

  Lady Clythebrook turned so she faced him, then breathed a deep sigh. “Josephine grew up in the orphanage, you know, and was always Walter’s favorite. Walter’s grandfather had built Sacred Heart nearly a century ago and Walter was expected to care for it as his father had before him. Every time he visited, he took something special for his little tag-along, as he always called her. When he returned, he would have some little gift tucked in his pocket that she’d given him. Sometimes a swatch of embroidery she’d stitched herself. Other times, a doll she’d made from hollyhock flowers.”

  Lady Clythebrook leaned more heavily against her cane and looked up at the portrait on the wall. “From the day she came to live with us, she rarely left his side. She rode with him wherever he went and sat in a chair at his side while he worked on the books, sometimes late into the night. She was such an avid learner it was only natural that she absorb everything there was to know about running the estate.

  “When Walter became ill, Josephine assumed ev
en more of the responsibility. She was seventeen when he died and she took over. She visited the tenants the same as Walter had, and made sure none of them went without.”

  “But?” Ross asked, knowing there was more.

  “It’s been difficult. Clythebrook Estate is not a profitable piece of land and there were many ways Walter found to make ends meet that are not available to a woman.”

  “Such as?”

  Lady Clythebrook smiled. “Walter made a point of spending time in London periodically. Not that he enjoyed going there. He was much more content here in the country running his estate and overseeing the land. But he said it was the only way he could find out what ventures to invest in and which ones to avoid. He didn’t always make a great deal of money, but enough added income to get us by until the fall harvest. It seems as if the money doesn’t go as far as it did before. And it isn’t that Josephine doesn’t spend endless hours trying to make it stretch.”

  Ross fought an emotion he wasn’t sure he understood, suddenly realizing he was eager to learn everything he could about Josephine Foley. It also occurred to him that Lady Clythebrook was sharing the details of Miss Foley’s life as well as her involvement in running the estate for a purpose. Ross turned to face the older woman as he waited for her to continue.

  She smiled, her bright eyes twinkling. “Ah, you see through me, don’t you?”

  “Let’s just say I think it’s possible you told me all this for a reason other than to satisfy my natural curiosity.”

  “Yes, well…”

  Lady Clythebrook turned to face him. “Josephine tells me you’ve been to the orphanage to inquire after Mrs. Gardner’s child and that she refused to tell you the child’s whereabouts.”

  Ross lifted his eyebrows.

  “I can see you are a man who does not give up easily once you’ve set your path. I could tell that the first time we met. But I want you to understand there is a reason why Josephine is equally as firm in her resolve. The children are very dear to her and she sees herself more as a guardian and protector than someone to simply see to their physical needs. They have no one else, you see.”

  “And that explains why she won’t tell me where she’s taken Mrs. Gardner’s child?”

  “Perhaps she fears the consequences of handing the child over to you.” Lady Clythebrook paused before continuing. “I haven’t shared all of Josephine’s past with you, some of which I don’t have the right to divulge. She didn’t come here first, you see. She went to live with a local merchant named Foster, and his wife, but something…happened while she was there and she ran away. Perhaps she fears giving Mrs. Gardner’s child to you will be as disastrous as when she was handed over to strangers.”

  “Except I mean the child no harm.”

  “No one meant to harm Josephine either, but that wasn’t the end result.”

  Ross felt an uncomfortable gnawing deep in his gut. “So Miss Foley has set herself up as protector and defender for all the children?” He paused. “That’s quite an undertaking for one person, especially someone so young.”

  “Yes. There are times I have to admit I worry over her.”

  “There’s no need to worry, my lady,” a voice tinged with an icy edge said from behind them. “I am more than capable of taking care of myself.”

  Both Ross and Lady Clythebrook turned to see Josephine Foley standing in the doorway.

  Ross didn’t know how much of their conversation she’d overheard but couldn’t help but smile at the cold, determined look on her face. It was almost as if she were giving him fair warning that they were on a more level playing field today and she wouldn’t allow him to use brute strength or physical intimacy to intimidate her as he had that night in the woods.

  “Josephine, dear. Come in and sit down. Lord Rainforth has come to call.”

  “So I see,” she said, walking across the room.

  She wore a green striped day-dress that—even though it was not quite what Ross remembered as being in fashion—was still very attractive. She was very attractive.

  “And what is the purpose of your visit, Lord Rainforth?”

  “You don’t think I came just to make Lady Clythebrook’s acquaintance?”

  “No.”

  Her answer was short and clipped, and Lady Clythebrook cleared her throat as if trying to cover Miss Foley’s veiled rudeness.

  “Josephine,” Lady Clythebrook interrupted. “Banks is bringing tea. Perhaps we could have refreshments before Lord Rainforth brings up any business he might wish to discuss?”

  “I doubt Lord Rainforth intends to stay that long. Do you, my lord?”

  “On the contrary, Miss Foley. I’d be delighted to stay for tea.”

  The look she gave him was murderous. He fanned the flame of her fury even further when he offered Lady Clythebrook his arm and escorted her to one of the chairs flanking the fireplace. Without looking to see Miss Foley’s reaction, Ross lifted a nearby chair and carried it closer. He didn’t place it next to Lady Clythebrook’s chair, but close to the chair in which he intended to sit.

  “Please, Miss Foley. Won’t you join us?”

  He saw the fire in her eyes, but in perfect timing, the door opened and Banks carried in a tea tray and set it on the small table in front of Miss Foley. She had no choice but to sit down in the chair closest to him and pour tea.

  “Please try a pastry,” Lady Clythebrook said after Miss Foley had handed each of them a cup and saucer. “Mrs. Downey makes the best pastries in all of England.”

  “Thank you.” He reached over to take a frosted crust filled with fruit and tucked it onto his floral china saucer. “Miss Foley?” He lifted the plate and offered it to Miss Foley, more for an excuse to look at her than to be polite. He wouldn’t exactly call her expression a scowl, but it was close enough to make him wary. If he wanted to change her mind about him, he’d best begin right now.

  “No,” she said, her voice unnaturally forced. “Thank you.”

  “Lady Clythebrook?”

  Lady Clythebrook gave Miss Foley a curious look, then took a small square of yellow cake with white frosting.

  Miss Foley, he noticed, took one swallow of her tea as if that was all politeness required, then set down her cup and saucer and turned her attention to him.

  “Now, Lord Rainforth. Perhaps you’d care to tell us why you’re here.”

  Lady Clythebrook looked at Josephine with a disapproving frown on her face but she didn’t say anything.

  “Very well. I’ve come to propose a venture that I think will benefit both Clythebrook Estate and St. Stephen’s.”

  “I’m sure we’re not interested,” she began, but stopped when he continued to speak over her interruption.

  “As well as the orphanage.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “What venture?”

  “A venture that will hopefully increase profits for both estates as well as increase the value of the land, while at the same time provide added income for the orphanage.”

  “And that would be?”

  “Cattle.”

  Both Lady Clythebrook and Miss Foley stared at him as if he’d uttered a foreign word neither of them understood.

  “Yes, cattle.” Ross set down his cup and moved in his chair so he could face them both. “As you know, St. Stephen’s is blessed with an abundant reservoir of underground water. It is, however, lacking in adequate grazing land near enough to that water to sustain a sufficient number of cattle to be profitable. Clythebrook Estate has acres of unused grazing land, but because there is little water, those acres are going to waste. I’m sure your husband realized long ago it would be too costly and time consuming to haul in a sufficient amount of water needed by a herd of cattle the size to which I’m referring.”

  “He did. So how do you intend to solve that problem?” Lady Clythebrook asked, interest sparking in her eyes.

  “With a minimal amount of digging into an aquifer located on St. Stephen’s, I’m positive we can create our own natural springs.
If we ignore the border between St. Stephen’s and Clythebrook, there will be both sufficient water as well as more than enough grazing area to support a sizable herd. We can double, perhaps even triple the amount of cattle that are currently being raised on either estate now and, if the market remains steady, double or triple our current yearly profits.”

  “We would go into this venture together, then?” Lady Clythebrook asked, clearly interested.

  Ross smiled. “We would be equal partners, of course. In time, we should see a profit from the sale of our cattle that will meet all our needs.”

  Ross glanced at the excitement in Miss Foley’s eyes. “Where do you anticipate the added cattle will graze?” Lady Clythebrook asked.

  “On the unused parcel of land that makes up the border between Clythebrook and St. Stephen’s. The land nearest the cliffs.”

  Ross watched the color leave Miss Foley’s face. “No,” she said, rising from her chair. “There will be no joint venture. Nor will you and Lady Clythebrook form any working partnership.”

  Ross took note of the firm set of her jaw. Her reaction wasn’t exactly a surprise and yet, the vehemence in her voice was. Ross let Lady Clythebrook try to soothe the turbulent emotions while he leaned back in his chair and studied her.

  “Josephine, I don’t understand. Surely we can hear Lord Rainforth out? I’m certain he’s given this a great deal of thought and if it would help the people of Clythebrook—”

  “We don’t need Lord Rainforth’s help. We don’t need—”

  “Yes, you do.” Ross sat forward in his chair. “Look around you. How long has it been since you did any general upkeep to the manor house? How much longer before something major happens and you’re forced to?” Ross set down his cup and saucer and turned to face just her. “How long has it been since you’ve had an adequate staff to see to your needs? Or a new dress? Or—”

  “Enough!” The glare in her eyes shot daggers. “How we live is none of your concern.”