Never a Mistress, No Longer a Maid (Kellington Book One)

by Maureen Driscoll

  “You must come down! I shall be in so much trouble if you don’t!”

  Ned looked up to see a young girl of maybe six or seven years. Possibly eight – it was so hard to tell how old children were when you didn’t have any. She was turned away from him, looking up into a tree.

  “Can I help you with something, miss?”

  The girl turned around and froze. She had blonde hair and eyes a brilliant shade of green. She was barefoot. Obviously a laborer’s daughter.

  “My apologies,” said Ned. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “I’m not frightened,” said the girl, sounding a bit offended. “I’m just not supposed to talk to people I don’t know.”

  “That’s very wise. My name is Ned.” He bowed.

  “I’m Vi,” she said as she dropped into a curtsy that would pass muster at Almack’s.

  “That’s a very pretty name.”

  “Thank you. You have eyes like mine.”

  Ned looked at her eyes a bit closer, but still kept his distance. He didn’t want to frighten the girl or offend her once again by implying he’d frightened her.

  “So I do. They look rather nice on you,” he said.

  “Thank you. They look rather nice on you, too.”

  “Thank you. Now who’s in the tree and why won’t he or she come down?”

  “Titania’s in the tree and she’s the best mouser we’ve got. She followed me to the woods and I’m not even supposed to be here. Now she won’t come down.”

  “Well, Vi, you have a few problems, I’d say. The first is you weren’t supposed to come to the woods.”

  “But I like it here.”

  “I’m sorry to disillusion you at such a young age, but life is made up of countless things we’d like to do, but, for one reason or another, we cannot. So, from here on out, if your papa tells you not to go into the woods, you should not go.”

  “My papa is dead.”

  She said it in a very matter-of-fact way that made Ned’s heart lurch.

  “I’m very sorry to hear that.”

  The little girl shrugged.

  “Then you should obey the person who told you not to go into the woods, no matter who it was. That’s the first lesson to be learned. The second is your mouser up there will likely come down when she wants to and not a minute earlier.”

  “But what if she doesn’t?”

  “She will.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I’m old and wise.”

  “How do I know you’re not just old?”

  “You’ll have to trust that I’m both.”

  “Why?”

  So that was how Lord Edward Kellington, brother to the Duke of Lynwood, a Lieutenant of the Guards who’d been praised by Wellington and an agent for the Crown who’d faced death on more than one occasion in service to his country, found himself on a branch moments later, coaxing the fattest cat he’d ever seen to get out of the tree. In response, the improbably named Titania simply stared at him.

  “Vi! Where are you? Vi!” A woman who wasn’t at all happy with Ned’s new friend was calling from somewhere near.

  “I’m in for it, now,” said the little girl. “I’ve got to go. What about Titania?”

  “I promise I’ll get her out of the tree.”

  “Thank you! It was a pleasure meeting you, Ned.” She curtsied again.

  “You, too.” He waved at her, almost losing his balance.

  The girl turned and ran toward the unseen woman. Ned turned back to the problem at hand, only to see Titania blithely hop from branch to branch before hitting the ground and running after Vi, leaving Ned to wonder just how he was going to get out of the damned tree.

  * * *

  “Where is he?” Miss Merriman screeched at her mama, after waiting long enough to make an entrance at breakfast, only to find their houseguest was not at the table. Or in the manor itself. A quick search of the grounds by the servants – Miss Merriman couldn’t do the searching herself because she didn’t want to look like she was chasing the man – had revealed no Lord Edward.

  “He couldn’t have gone off to London, could he?” wailed the girl.

  “Heaven forefend!” said Lady Barrington, who was on the verge of hysterics herself. “But if Lord Edward has gone back to town, it could be because you frightened him off by not acting like the lady you were raised to be. You almost told him about Jane Wetherby, didn’t you?”

  “I did no such thing,” Miss Merriman said, trying and failing to look the offended innocent.

  “Don’t try to bam me. I know it was on the tip of your tongue. A properly bred lady shouldn’t even know about such things and should certainly never speak of them, except in the company of trusted lady friends.”

  “So what if I wanted to talk of Jane and that brat? She has no shame – parading the girl around and not appearing the least bit embarrassed. I cannot believe Jane and I were ever friends, she’s changed so completely. She likes to mingle with the tenants! And to think that was Lord Edward’s first impression of Marston Vale. It’s enough to scare him away completely.”

  “That would never do,” said Lady Barrington. “We must find a way to keep Lord Edward occupied.”

  “Don’t worry, Mama,” said Madeline. “I have several ideas to accomplish that.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “And that, Lord Edward, is the sketch I did of the view from the folly at noon,” said Madeleine, as she showed Ned her sketchbook, leaning unnecessarily close to him to do so. They were in the back garden, well within view of her mama and sisters, but Ned still wished the chit would move just a bit further away. He hadn’t wanted to look at the sketches in the first place, but Miss Merriman had made such a fuss when he’d returned to the house after his walk that he’d looked for the first diversion he could find. Unfortunately, it was turning out to be a most boring one.

  She turned the page. “And this is the sketch I did of the view from the folly at dusk.”

  “Yes, I can see the nuances,” said Ned, although he could see no such thing. The drawing looked just as bland as the last one, but it seemed like a believable compliment. Of course, he wasn’t sure why he was trying to sound realistic since he suspected Madeleine Merriman believed all compliments, no matter how farfetched.

  “Lord Edward, you really should accompany me to the folly some time. You’d find the view quite spectacular, particularly at dusk,” said Madeleine, looking at him from beneath her lashes and brushing her breast against his arm.

  Good God, thought Ned, what has happened to country-bred virgins?

  He was temporarily saved from more of Miss Merriman’s flirting by the arrival of Warren, Rutherford and Overton, much to the displeasure of Lady Barrington. As far as Ned was concerned any – or all – of them were welcome to her.

  “Excuse me, my lord, I’m terribly sorry to interrupt,” said a deceptively humble Rigg, who’d appeared at his side, “but I must speak with you.”

  “Of course, Rigg. If you’ll excuse me Miss Merriman?”

  Madeleine looked like she’d try to have Rigg flogged for even attempting to separate them, but she held her tongue and turned back to her court.

  “I have information on your Miss Jane,” said Rigg quietly. “Her name is Jane Wetherby. The servants were surprisingly tight-lipped about her, as if they were afraid you were going to murder the poor woman in her bed. You aren’t going to do that, are you my lord? I should hate to be an accomplice to such a deed.”

  “I promise not to murder the lady, but can’t give you assurance that I won’t seek out her bed.”

  “Very good, my lord,” said Rigg with the hint of a smile. “I couldn’t ascertain where she lives, although I believe one of the kitchen maids is warming to me and I might yet get the information you require. But in the meantime, I do know where she is right now.”

  * * *

  “If I have three strawberries, then find two more in the garden, how many do I have?” Jane asked the dozen ch
ildren seated in front of her in the shade of the old oak not far from the village green.

  Half a dozen eager hands went up, including Tommy Simmons, a boy who usually didn’t care much for sums.

  “Tommy?”

  “I don’t know how many, Miss Jane, but I reckon it’d be enough for a tart.”

  Jane and the children laughed.

  “I believe it would, indeed. But now, Tommy, I’m going to ask you to solve the problem.”

  The boy looked a bit embarrassed as he tried to work out the answer.

  “I know you can do this, Tommy.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, he said “Five?”

  “Excellent! You’re becoming one of my best pupils.”

  Tommy blushed at the compliment, but Jane could tell he was pleased.

  “Look,” said one of the older girls, “it’s that Lord Edward Miss Merriman’s to marry.”

  Jane’s heart stopped as all of the children turned to look at Lord Edward, who stood watching them from a few yards away.

  “Please forgive me for interrupting your lesson, Miss Jane,” he said. “Although I couldn’t help admiring Tommy’s wit and his skill at sums.”

  Tommy was once again embarrassed but pleased to be the subject of praise.

  “Yes, Tommy is a very smart boy,” said Jane, offering up a silent prayer of thanks that Vi hadn’t joined them today. “But if you’ll excuse us, Lord Edward, we need to continue the lesson.”

  “But Miss Jane,” said the girl, “you said that was the last of the sums for today.”

  “So I did. But now we’re going to have a lesson on cleaning our hands.”

  Ned couldn’t completely hide his laughter when a slight groan went up among the children. Jane frowned at him, then continued with the lesson.

  “Remember to wash your hands before you eat, after you use the necessary and whenever you feel ill.”

  “But Miss Jane,” said a young boy with a runny nose, “me da says it’s a waste of soap to wash yer hands so much. Although he do like that ye teach us.”

  “It may seem like a waste, but there are spirits of disease that linger on our hands that may cause us to become ill. If we wash our hands, they cease to exist.”

  It was a point she’d made with the children and their parents countless times. But they all looked at her like she was a sweet, yet utterly daft, lady.

  “Very well, wash when you can. And I will see you all in three days.”

  The children each took their leave of her, then left for home, teasing Tommy fondly as they went.

  Jane was frustrated to find her heart rate accelerate with each step Ned took toward her.

  “I must express my surprise that you didn’t give each child a dram of Scots whiskey to ward off the spirits of disease,” he said.

  “Did you come here solely to vex me?”

  “No, but it is an added bonus to my visit. How often do you teach the children?”

  “Twice a week, except during harvest when most of them can’t be spared from home.”

  “Is there no school in the village?”

  “Not for the farmers’ children. The vicar and his wife offer classes in Greek and Latin to some of the older boys of the gentry who can’t afford tutors, but they already have too many responsibilities with the vicarage to expand their lessons. All I do is offer reading and sums, with a few pointers on how to stay healthy. Now I suppose I must endure more mockery from you.”

  “I’m afraid not, Jane. At least not about this.”

  “And what has put you off, so I might thank God for it in my prayers?”

  “I admire you.”

  It was true, Ned realized. He really did like this woman. He’d known for years that he’d like to lie with her again and had done so countless times in his dreams. But as he’d watched her with the children, sitting under the tree and wearing a drab grey gown with her beautiful hair pulled back into a severe bun, he realized he liked her. Admired her. She was hidden away in this dreary village, sewing up farmers one day and teaching sums to their children the next. And furthermore, the children had seemed to enjoy their lesson. Of course, if any of his tutors had looked the least bit like Jane Wetherby, he would’ve enjoyed his lessons, too.

  “May I escort you home?”

  “No,” she answered, just a bit too quickly.

  Ned’s senses went on full alert. Was she hiding something? A husband, perhaps? No, Rigg would’ve told him if she’d been married. A lover? A jolt of a strong emotion ran through him that might’ve been jealousy in another man.

  “I must insist, Jane. Who knows what could be lurking in these woods.”

  “My lord, I assure you I do not need an escort. I’m perfectly safe.”

  “It’s not ‘my lord,’ it’s Edward. Preferably Ned. And I must insist on a safe escort.”

  “I don’t need one.”

  “But I do. I’m afraid I have a terrible sense of direction and cannot find my way on my own.”

  “In that case, I’ll escort you to Barrington Manor. I’m sure Miss Merriman is missing her fiancée.”

  Before Ned could press his case again, Jane began walking in the direction of Barrington Manor. If he wanted to talk, he’d have to do it on her terms.

  “I’m afraid you are under a misapprehension. I am not now, nor will I ever be, Miss Merriman’s fiancée.”

  “But she’s had an understanding since birth with a member of the nobility. You are a member of the nobility and have come to stay with her and her family. I believe the misapprehension is yours, my lord.”

  “Ned. I would know if I were getting married and I can assure you I’m not. We could argue this point endlessly, but I don’t want to waste this opportunity to speak with you. How did you learn about such things as spirits of disease?”

  “It’s something my father believed in quite strongly. He was a physician who studied medicine through the ages. The Greeks believed there were agents unseen by the human eye that cause disease. I became a firm believer in the existence of such agents or spirits when I worked in Belgium. It was too much of a coincidence that dozens of men would show the same symptoms of a stomach malady after drinking from a stream that appeared clean. There had to be something we couldn’t see that made them sick.

  “I also learned those agents of disease could be on objects like needles and scalpels. One night we ran out of thread and were forced to use horse hair for sutures. The hair itself was too coarse to sew with, so we boiled it to soften it up. Over the next few days I noticed the soldiers who’d been sewn with the horse hair had fewer infections than those who’d been sewn with the regular thread. I believe it was something in the boiling process that neutralized those spirits of disease.”

  “But how do you know there wasn’t something about the horse hair that healed them?”

  Jane looked up to see if Ned was making sport of her. But he showed no sign of mocking her. He looked sincerely interested in what she had to say.

  “I don’t know for sure. It’s impossible to use the horse hair without boiling it because it’s so tough. And even if it were possible, I already know it works with the boiling. I wouldn’t want to experiment on someone and possibly make them sick.”

  “So how do you know the whiskey counteracts the agents as well?”

  “My father used it, as did several surgeons in Belgium.”

  “Did your father encourage your interest in medicine?”

  “Absolutely. I think he would’ve liked to have had a son to carry on his work. But whenever possible, I accompanied him on his visits to patients. I not only learned about medicine, but about how people lived who weren’t born into money. He taught me lessons much more valuable than any I could’ve learned in school.”

  “Does he no longer live?”

  “Unfortunately, both my parents are dead.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss. Do you live alone?”

  Something flashed in her eyes. Was she covering up the existence of a lover?r />
  “Well, here you are,” she said as they arrived at Barrington Manor. “I trust you can find your way up the drive and to the house, despite your lamentable sense of direction. That must’ve made spying particularly difficult for you.”

  “Minx,” he said. “I confess I’ve never spent this much time talking about horse hair and invisible agents of disease before, but it’s a conversation I would very much like to continue. May I see you tomorrow, Jane?”

  “I thank you for your offer, my lord, but I must decline.”

  With that she turned for home and it took every bit of Ned’s strength not to follow. Instead, he turned toward Barrington knowing he had a long day ahead.

  CHAPTER SIX

  An insufferable evening had yielded to a sleepless night spent in contemplation of a certain lady surgeon. The morning had led to luncheon with Madeline and her friends at an inn. And that had resulted in Ned excusing himself to have a word with one of the footmen, but which was really just an excuse to get away. As he walked the streets of the tiny village, he wondered how long he could remain out of doors before his absence would be noted. He’d tried speaking with Lord Barrington in an effort to dissolve the understanding, but he’d no sooner gotten the words “Unfortunately, we have a serious matter to discuss” out of his mouth, than the man had invented an excuse to leave the room immediately and had been making himself scarce ever since.

  Ned had been unable to make his sentiments known to Miss Merriman because the very nature of the conversation required some degree of privacy and every time they were alone he feared for his virtue. The chit didn’t want to take no as an answer to anything.

  At the very least, he needed an excuse to remove himself from the manor and take lodgings at the inn. It wasn’t Marston Vale he wanted to leave. It was just the Barrington Manor portion of it.

  “Ned!”

  He turned to see who was calling him.

  “Over here!”

  Ned turned to see Vi, barefoot again, sitting on the grass in the village green, sketching on a pad. He walked toward her, wondering if anyone was looking out for the girl.