Not Always a Saint

by Mary Jo Putney

  Breakfast in the gallery had become a regular custom after Daniel, Jessie, and Beth settled into Castle Romayne. Jessie had suggested it rather firmly, and Daniel had come to love these quiet intervals with his wife as they talked about the day ahead. With Jessie’s guidance, he’d become much better about savoring life’s simple joys.

  Jessie emptied the teapot by topping up their cups. “I never appreciated weather so much before. No matter how wild or serene the sea is, the view here is magical.”

  “And today it’s serene,” Daniel agreed. “I’ll be spending most of the day at the hospital, training the new nurses in the morning and opening the infirmary in the afternoon.”

  “A worthy day.” Jessie made a face. “It’s my day for balancing the monthly accounts. Equally worthy but far less interesting.”

  They shared an intimate smile. Daniel’s hope of a wife who could manage all his business interests had been fulfilled better than he’d dreamed possible. It had taken her less than three months to take firm hold of his personal inheritance from his father and the Romayne properties. The Kelham estates she’d already had under control.

  Peace was interrupted when a muddy Beth galloped into the gallery, accompanied by three equally muddy village children who shared her lessons, all of them clutching golden flowers. “Daffodillies!” Beth proclaimed triumphantly as she offered Daniel and Jessie a handful each.

  “They’re lovely.” Jessie buried her face in the blossoms, emerging with a pollen-dusted nose. “Spring comes so early here on the south coast.”

  Beth’s nurse, Lily, and the young governess they’d hired entered the gallery at a slower pace, though with muddy shoes of their own. “Sorry, my lady,” Lily said apologetically. “We were heading to the kitchen to put the daffs in water, but the little ones got away from us.”

  As Jessie laughed, Daniel said, “The first flowers of spring are worth some exuberance.” He kissed Beth’s rosy cheek. “Now off with you all! Lily can drop you into the horse trough to wash off the mud, and then on to lessons.”

  The giggling children were rounded up and escorted out just before Pendry entered with a silver tray holding the morning post. It was neatly divided into two piles, his and Jessie’s. After the butler left, they looked through their letters, which was another part of the daily ritual.

  “Here’s a letter from Julia,” she reported. “They’ll want me in Kent for the opening of the Canterbury Zion House next month. That will fit in nicely since we were going to go there in April anyhow.”

  Daniel opened a letter from his sister first. “All is well in Kirkland country,” he reported, “and my nephew is a paragon of infant beauty and brilliance.” He glanced up, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Laurel adds that she is joking, but nonetheless, the brilliance and beauty are entirely true.”

  “She’d be an unnatural mother if she didn’t believe that.” Jessie patted her slim waist, which didn’t yet show the miracle within. “Our offspring will be equally brilliant and beautiful.” She glanced at Daniel. “You’re beaming.”

  “I can’t help it,” he confessed. “Procreation may be the most common of human miracles, but it’s still a miracle.” Still smiling, he slit the seal on his last letter.

  His smile vanished. “Jessie.” When she looked up inquiringly, he said, “Your father is dead. He passed away in his sleep. Apparently his heart gave out.”

  She pressed a swift hand to her mouth, her eyes shocked and vulnerable. “As . . . as you predicted.”

  “At last he’s at peace,” Daniel said quietly.

  She sighed. “I can’t really mourn a man who was never my father in any good way. Who wrote the letter?”

  “His housekeeper, Miss Ludley. Being a woman who knows her duty, she thought you should know.” Daniel glanced at the date. “The funeral took place yesterday.”

  “So I’m spared the hypocrisy of attending and pretending I’m grieving,” she said dryly. “I’m a good actress, but not that good.”

  Daniel read the final paragraph of the letter. “Miss Ludley says rather aggressively that your father left her all his possessions. Do you think that’s likely?”

  “Perhaps. She is probably the only person who truly mourns him. I won’t challenge her statement. She was a poor spinster and would have been in dire straits if my father hadn’t hired her as a housekeeper. My father wasn’t a rich man, but I’m sure he left enough to give her a comfortable life.”

  “You may take pleasure in the knowledge that your graciousness will surely infuriate her.” He hesitated, then added, “How do you feel? I’ve observed that it’s often more difficult to deal with the loss of a bad parent than a good one.”

  Jessie pursed her lips, then nodded. “That’s it exactly. As long as my father was alive, there was a chance that he’d summon me to his deathbed and apologize for his behavior and say that he really did care for me. Now that I say that aloud, I know how foolish the hope was.” She drew an unsteady breath. “But it was real and now it’s gone.”

  “The loss of hope is always sad, but I suspect your mother will just be relieved.”

  Jessie’s brow furrowed. “She certainly will! Does this mean she’s no longer a bigamist?”

  “I suppose so, but her marriage to George Lester is still invalid because it was performed when she had a living husband,” Daniel replied. “You’ve been secretly corresponding with her for months now. Will she care about the invalid marriage as long as she knows your father can’t show up on her doorstep breathing fire and brimstone?”

  “She’d rather be married all right and proper,” Jessie said with conviction. “She wants to publicly acknowledge that I’m her daughter and she’s desperate to meet Beth. But until now, she’s been terrified that doing so might cost her everything she has.”

  Daniel considered. “I could marry her and George Lester very quietly, but she’d have to tell him the truth first. Do you think he’d be horrified and put her aside if he knew she’s been lying to him all these years?”

  “From what she says in her letters, he dotes on her, so he’d probably be horrified, but more interested in correcting the situation than in destroying his family.” A wicked spark showed in Jessie’s eyes. “She could tell him a version of the truth and claim that not long after Cassius Braxton threw her out, she heard he’d died. She believed that or she wouldn’t have married George. Only now that he’s really dead does she realize that she was an accidental bigamist.”

  “Shock! Horror! Collapsing into George’s comforting arms with wails of distress!” Daniel said with a grin, easily able to visualize the scene.

  “Through Braxton’s death, she also learns that her daughter survived,” Jessie said, getting into the spirit. “Joy! Bliss! Better yet, her long-lost daughter is married to a vicar who can quietly legitimize her marriage to George and no one else need know the awkward truth!”

  “Perfect. When you write her about Braxton’s death, will you suggest this?”

  Jessie caught her breath, eyes shining. “Better yet, I’ll suggest that she and George celebrate the discovery of the long-lost daughter and her vicar husband with a renewal of their marriage vows. A proper wedding with all her family there. Only she and George and you and I would know that it would be a true marriage, not a renewal of vows. Is that possible?”

  Daniel laughed. “I’m not sure that Church law covers a situation like this, but why not? No one would be hurt by it, and it could be explained as a celebration to welcome you and Beth into her other family.”

  “Then I’ll suggest it.” Jessie joined Daniel’s laughter. “Because I do know that my mother and George love a good time!”

  April 1814

  The parish church of Saint Helen Bishopsgate was not in fashionable Mayfair, but firmly planted in the City of London, the heart of London’s business community. The grand Gothic structure resonated with the music of its famous organ, and brilliant spring sunshine poured through the windows. It was a perfect setting for the rene
wal of wedding vows.

  In the church foyer, Jessie bent to kiss Beth’s curls. “Time to march down the aisle, little finch. You’re an experienced carrier of flowers now, so show everyone how it’s done.”

  Beth giggled, then firmly grasped the handle of her flower basket in both hands and stepped into the church. Her gaze was fixed on her Daddy Daniel, who stood at the altar. In his clerical robes, Daniel looked like a particularly handsome saint who would dispense warmth and forgiveness to all who needed it. He certainly had given that to Jessie and Beth.

  Waiting at the altar were George Lester and his best man, a friend and colleague of many years. A practical businessman, George had accepted the news that his marriage wasn’t legal with surprising calm, and had entered gleefully into plans for the supposed renewal of vows celebration. Not only would it be a jolly party, but a chance to show off his beautiful new stepdaughter and her lordly husband.

  Resplendent in cream satin, Jessie’s mother whispered, “I’m as excited as if I was seventeen again!”

  “You should be,” Jessie said as she straightened her mother’s bonnet. It was the sort of thing a bridal attendant was supposed to do. She’d been delighted when Elizabeth had asked her to stand as witness. “This time you’re marrying the right man.”

  Her mother laughed, tears in her eyes as she gave Jessie a hug, knocking her bonnet askew once more. “Oh, darling, I’m so happy to have you in my life again! You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “No, George is,” Jessie laughed as she returned the hug, then stepped into the church to follow Beth down the aisle.

  As she walked solemnly forward, she gave a special smile to her new-found half siblings. The two boys and two girls resembled George more than Elizabeth, and they had his good nature and practical good sense. They’d been delighted by the discovery of a half sister who was not only a baroness but had given them an adorable niece.

  Old Mrs. Lester had a satiric glint in her eye and Jessie suspected that she wasn’t entirely convinced by the “renewal of vows” story, but she was as practical as her son. What mattered to her was that Elizabeth had produced four healthy, intelligent grandchildren.

  Jessie raised her gaze to meet Daniel’s. He gave her a wicked smile that promised they’d have a very private celebration of their own when they retired for the night.

  Because, thank the Lord, Daniel was not always a saint!

  Author’s Note

  Yes, there really are a (very) few peerage titles that can be inherited by a female. I used the same plot device, a barony of writ, in my early traditional Regency, Carousel of Hearts. It’s great fun to turn the male hierarchy on its head!

  Medical practitioners were classified differently in Regency times. Physicians were gentlemen and well educated, and they were called “Doctor.” Surgeons were descendants of barbers and butchers and other vulgar folk who used knives and handled human bodies. They were not considered gentlemen and were called Mister, though by the Regency, schools of anatomy existed to train surgeons. In Britain, surgeons are still called Mister even though they’re highly trained medical school graduates. Tradition!

  Certainly it was possible for one person to have a range of medical skills, particularly if they lived in an isolated area and there was no other source of medical aid available. My Lost Lords midwife, Lady Julia, had become such an all-purpose practitioner in her remote village in Cumberland in the far north-west of England. The same is true of Daniel, since he would always do his best to help someone in need. I usually call him a doctor for the sake of reading simplicity.

  Cottage hospitals began to appear in this period, and establishing more of them is an activity that will suit Daniel right down to the ground as he proves that he can be a doctor as well as a lord. And now, by the power invested in me as a writer, I grant Daniel and Jessie happily ever afters!

  You are cordially invited—to fall in love . . .

  THE LAST CHANCE CHRISTMAS BALL

  Mary Jo Putney

  Jo Beverley

  Joanna Bourne

  Patricia Rice

  Nicola Cornick

  Cara Elliott

  Anne Gracie

  Susan King

  Christmas 1815. Upstairs and downstairs,

  Holbourne Hall is abuzz with preparations for a

  grand ball to celebrate the year’s most festive—

  and romantic—holiday. For at the top of each

  guest’s wish list is a last chance to find true love

  before the New Year . . .

  A chance meeting beneath the mistletoe, a stolen glance across the dance floor—amid the sumptuous delicacies, glittering decorations, and swell of the orchestra, every duchess and debutante, lord and lackey has a hopeful heart. There’s the headstrong heiress who must win back her beloved by midnight—or be wed to another . . . the spinster whose fateful choice to relinquish love may hold one more surprise for her . . . a widow yearning to glimpse her long-lost love for even one sweet, fleeting interlude . . . a charming rake who finds far more than he bargained for. And many other dazzling, romantic tales in this star-studded collection that will fill your heart and spice up your holidays this October!

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  Copyright © 2015 by Mary Jo Putney, Inc.

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  ISBN: 978-1-4201-2717-1

  eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-2720-1

  eISBN-10: 1-4201-2720-9