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

by Maureen Driscoll

  “Vi, I think we’ve asked Ned enough questions for tonight,” said her mother. “You can save a few for tomorrow.”

  “I’m glad you’re spending the night,” said Vi. “Storms can be scary.”

  “I’m glad I’m spending the night, too,” said Ned. “And you don’t have to worry about storms. You don’t have to be scared about anything ever again.”

  Not if he had any say in the matter.

  After dinner, Jane and Vi sang a series of duets for an enchanted Ned. Then Vi asked Ned to tell her stories of his travels. It took a great deal of fast thinking and a certain talent for embellishment to weed out those parts of his adventures not suitable for young ears – be they violent or romantic in nature – and to replace them with happy endings that a six-year-old girl might enjoy. And there was a certain contentment he felt as the three of them talked near the fire while the storm raged outside.

  But it had been a long day, and the excitement eventually took its toll on Vi.

  “It’s time for bed,” said Jane to her very tired daughter who was trying desperately to stay awake.

  “But Mama, I want to sing with you some more.”

  “We can sing again tomorrow, sweeting. It’s time for sleep.”

  As Jane herded the little girl toward the stairs, Ned followed.

  “I’m too tired to climb the stairs,” said Vi.

  “I’ll carry you,” said Jane as she bent to pick her up.

  Vi turned her face shyly into her mother’s stomach. “Can Ned carry me?”

  He was caught off guard by the request. He wasn’t even sure how to carry a little girl. Over the shoulder seemed extreme. But he didn’t think it would be the way he’d seen others holding infants either. Before he could overthink it, he was pulled down as Vi put her arms around his neck and balanced herself on his hip.

  His first impression was that she was very light. Surely, a girl of six would weigh more than this, right? He knew she couldn’t be ill; her mother wouldn’t tolerate it. She just needed a bit more meat on her bones. From here on out, Ned would ensure there was always a full larder. And some sweets. He wondered if Mrs. Heldt could make an ice.

  “Mama,” said the girl who could barely keep her eyes open. “This has been a most glorious day.”

  Jane looked at her daughter and wanted to cry. Vi thought the day had been glorious. A day that had been spent fixing the roof, then eating a meal with a few extra courses in the company of someone who helped make her feel a little less lonely.

  “Vi,” said Ned. “I must agree with you that it was an extraordinary day. One I shall certainly remember for the rest of my life. For one thing, I had no idea how well I could fix a roof.”

  “You did a splendid job,” said Vi. “We normally spend storm nights running from leak to leak. And tonight I haven’t seen even one. Of course, I haven’t been everywhere in the house. I suppose there could be rivers of water in the attic.”

  “Thank you for that vote of confidence, poppet.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said solemnly. “Would you like to see Kathleen?”

  “Of course,” said Ned, not having any idea who Kathleen was and hoping she wasn’t yet another cat in a tree.

  “She’s my doll.”

  As Ned entered Vi’s neat room, he was struck by how few possessions were in it, although there seemed to be more here than anywhere else in the house. As Vi showed him Kathleen, a doll that looked to be a hand-me-down from her mother and quite possibly her grandmother, Ned couldn’t help contrasting her childhood with his own.

  He looked up to see Jane watching them from the doorway. Her love for Vi was obvious in just the way she looked at her daughter. It was a look he remembered from his own parents. And one he had a feeling he’d soon be giving to his own daughter, if only Jane would give him a chance.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Ned awoke to a steady stream of rain against his window. After having Rigg attend to him, he went in search of breakfast, hoping to catch Jane and Vi at the table. They were, however, long gone. He was told by Mrs. Heldt that they could be found in the nursery, where Vi was having her lessons.

  So there was a nursery, thought Ned as he went in search of them through the cold house. He mentally added coal to the long list of needed items. As he approached the nursery, he heard Vi’s laughter and this time it was joined by someone else’s. He stood in the doorway to see mother and daughter sitting primly on chairs facing each other, wearing sheets over their dresses like togas. Jane also had her hair undone, with it flowing prettily down her back.

  Ned couldn’t take his eyes off her. He wanted to run his fingers through the silk of her hair. He wanted her to wear a toga for him, but without the dress underneath.

  “Mama, are you sure the ancient Greeks wore such gowns? What did they put on their beds if they wore their sheets?”

  “I assure you, sweeting, the ancient Greeks wore garments very much like these.”

  “Your mother’s right,” said Ned, as he walked into the room, surprising both of its occupants.

  Vi’s face lit up as she ran toward him, stumbling on the long sheet she had wrapped around her. Ned quickly stepped forward and caught her before she fell.

  “The ancient Greeks wore clothing very similar to what you have on, although I’m sure none of them look nearly as charming as you and your mother.”

  “How do you know what they wore?”

  “I’ve seen statues and pictures of them in Greece.”

  “You’ve been to Greece? What’s it like?”

  Ned put the girl down, then sat on one of the low chairs. “It’s beautiful. And quite warm. You can go swimming in the ocean and it feels like a bath. The colors are very pretty and they have tall skinny trees with long green leaves on top.”

  “Mama, can we go to Greece?”

  Jane knew the perils of making promises she couldn’t keep. “We can read books about Greece and it’ll seem like we’ve been there.”

  “Not really,” said Vi, clearly no one’s fool.

  “Perhaps one day we’ll go to Greece,” said her mother.

  “Can we all go to Greece? Can Ned come with us?”

  “I think you should study your lessons,” said Jane, in answer to the question that had flashed through her own mind. “Greece will still be there when you’re a little older.”

  Jane walked to the door and motioned for Ned to follow. He was mesmerized by the natural sway of her hips. He longed to unwrap her toga, then roll around with her until they were hopelessly tangled in it.

  His rather pleasant daydream was interrupted by Jane frowning at him. Evidently, she’d been speaking.

  “Are you paying any attention to me at all?”

  “I assure you it would be impossible to ignore you in that costume.”

  He took enormous satisfaction from the color that flowed into her cheeks.

  “I’ve found Vi learns more when she’s actively involved in the lesson. She didn’t understand the concept of togas, so we made some.”

  “Very ingenious,” he said softly. “And if I were to have a difficult time understanding the concept of, say, ladies’ drawers, would you show me yours? As purely a means of educating me, of course.”

  “I have a difficult time understanding the concept of your having a difficult time understanding the concept of any women’s garments.”

  “While that may be true, I have a thirst for knowledge and am always anxious to learn more.”

  They stood no more than inches apart. Jane knew she should step back, but was quite unable to make that thought translate into action. They were so close he could lean down and kiss her if she allowed it. And of course she wouldn’t. It would be the height of lunacy to encourage the man’s pursuit of her which was only motivated by a misguided sense of honor. Which was why she was going to take a large step backward at any moment now. But why did he have to have such beautiful eyes?

  “What are you two talking about?” asked Vi from her seat
at the table.

  Jane and Ned both took a step away from each other.

  “Nothing,” said her mother. “Ned was just talking some nonsense.”

  “Can I hear?”

  “No, sweeting. It’s nothing that would interest you.”

  “Excuse me, Miss Jane?” An out of breath Mrs. Heldt was approaching the nursery. “John Wheeler’s downstairs. Says his daughter developed a fever and a cough. Wants to know if you can come look at her.”

  “I’ll be down directly. Mrs. Heldt, can you please look after Vi? I may be gone a couple hours.”

  “You’re going out in this rain?” asked an incredulous Ned.

  “Of course. He can’t very well bring a feverish girl to me.”

  “Can I come, Mama?”

  “I’m afraid not, sweeting,” said Jane as she kissed her daughter on the forehead. “I won’t be gone long. Keep working on your letters and listen to what Mrs. Heldt says.”

  “Can Ned stay with me, too?”

  “I’m sorry, poppet,” he said. “But I’m going with your mama.”

  “That’s completely unnecessary,” said Jane.

  “Nevertheless, I’ll be joining you.” As she started to protest, he added. “You’re not going to win this argument. So either we can be on our way to help the girl or we can waste time here.”

  With a determined lift of her chin, Jane turned from him and walked down the hall, calling over her shoulder, “If you’re serious about coming with me, you’d best don warm clothing in a hurry. I’m off to the stillroom, then I’m leaving with Mr. Wheeler – whether you’re ready or not.”

  Ned smiled at the woman’s rapidly departing back. He wasn’t sure why he found that steel in her backbone quite so charming, but there was no doubt whatsoever he did.

  * * *

  If John Wheeler was surprised to see Ned follow Jane out of her house at an hour that was much too early for a social call, he expressed no sign of it. The man was consumed with worry, and no sooner had Jane and Ned climbed into his cart, than he set off toward home.

  The rain was coming down at a steady rate with no indication of lessening any time soon. Ned had been in worse conditions during his time in the army, but he was surprised by how well Jane coped with the weather. She’d donned a man’s heavy cape over her own cloak. Ned was momentarily struck with jealousy over who the cape’s owner might be until he realized on closer inspection that it had likely belonged to her father. She was also wearing a leather hat with a wide brim that did an admirable job of keeping the rain off her face, but couldn’t by the slightest bit of imagination be called fashionable. She was wholly oblivious to her appearance, which made her all the more attractive.

  Jane questioned Wheeler about his daughter’s symptoms. When did she first become ill? What had she eaten? Was she taking in any liquids? Ned was impressed by both the questions she asked and the way her mind worked as she processed the information. As a Kellington, he had access to some of the most acclaimed physicians and surgeons in London, but he doubted any would be more competent and thorough than Jane. And he didn’t believe even one of them would go out in a rainstorm to tend to the sick child of a farmer.

  They finally arrived at Wheeler’s cottage, a well-maintained structure near prime farm land. When they entered, four children were seated in the main room. All looked much too somber. Ned followed Jane and Wheeler into a bedroom, where a girl about Vi’s age lay in bed. Mrs. Wheeler was wiping the girl’s face with a wet towel. Her look of relief was immeasurable as she saw Jane.

  “Miss Jane, thank ye for coming.”

  Jane squeezed Mrs. Wheeler’s hand, then sat by the girl. “How do you feel, Penny?”

  Little by little, Jane was able to draw the girl out. As Jane wiped Penny down, she tried to get her to promise to eat some broth.

  “But it hurts when I swallow.”

  “I know it does, poppet. But it’s important to keep up your strength. It’ll help you get better.”

  The girl remained unconvinced.

  “What if I promised to give you a new ribbon if you do everything you can to get well?”

  The girl’s eyes grew large. “A ribbon?”

  “Yes, in whatever color you like.”

  “Can it be pink?”

  “Of course it can. But you must promise me to drink the broth, take the medicine I’m going to give you and do everything your mama and papa ask you to do. Do we have a deal?”

  Penny nodded. It was the first time she’d looked animated since they’d walked into the room.

  As Jane rose from the bed, she asked Mrs. Wheeler to meet her in the hall, where they joined Mr. Wheeler.

  “She’s going to be all right, Miss Jane, ain’t she?” asked Mrs. Wheeler.

  “Her fever seems rather high and she’s had it for an alarming period of time. But I have a posset to give her. It’s from the bark of a tree and I’ve had some luck in bringing down fevers with it. But it tastes terrible, I’m afraid. You’d best mix it with tea because I’m not sure even the promise of a new ribbon would be enough for her to take it willingly.”

  Jane pulled a powder from her satchel and handed it to Mrs. Wheeler, with instructions on how to prepare it.

  “Unfortunately, this is all I have right now. She’ll need more because she should take it for at least another day until the fever breaks.”

  “Can you make more, Miss Jane?” asked Wheeler.

  “I have to purchase it from the apothecary in Lexington.”

  “I’ll go fetch it,” said Wheeler.

  “It’s rather expensive,” said Jane. When she told them how much it cost, both Wheelers grew white as chalk.

  “Don’t matter,” said Wheeler. “I’ll figure out a way to get the money.”

  But Jane doubted the man had even a fraction of what it would cost, and would likely have to sell a few cows to raise the funds. At the very least, he couldn’t raise the money in the time frame they needed to save Penny.

  “If I may,” said Ned. “I would like to pay for the medicine.”

  Both Wheelers looked at him.

  “Thank ye, milord,” said Mr. Wheeler. “But I can’t take yer charity.”

  “Pay me back if you like, but it’s not necessary. I know time is of the essence, so I’ll ask you to take my money now and we can address any repayment at a later date.”

  Mrs. Wheeler looked at her husband with tears in her eyes and squeezed his hand. “John, we have to do what we can for Penny.”

  “Milord, I don’t know when I can repay you, but I promise I will.”

  “Please don’t worry about anything other than your daughter.” Ned gave the man the coins, then Wheeler took off for Lexington.

  “Now, Sally,” said Jane. “Let’s see about bringing down Penny’s temperature. If you can please put this posset in tea, I’ll continue bathing her. Is there more cold water?”

  “I can bring some in,” said Sally.

  “I’ll get the water,” said Ned. “The two of you go on with your duties.”

  After getting directions from the extremely curious children in the sitting room, who’d likely never met the brother of a duke, let alone watched one make several trips to the well, Ned carted a few gallons of freezing water into the house while spilling a large portion on himself in the process. Which didn’t soak him any more than the pouring rain had already done.

  He didn’t see much of Jane or Mrs. Wheeler in the next few hours as they took turns wiping Penny down. He did get to know the other Wheeler children pretty well. There was a boy of seventeen who had his eye on a girl who lived on a nearby farm. According to his younger sister, he’d kissed the girl on May Day and was now working up the courage to talk to the girl’s father.

  His younger brother was thirteen and asked Ned endless questions about horses. He wanted to work as a groom, but since none of the great houses in the area had need of a new lad, he helped his parents on the farm.

  The girl was ten and terribly worried for her y
ounger sister. But what she most wanted to know was what the talk about a pink ribbon had been about and whether she’d be able to borrow it.

  “I should think so,” said Ned, “although that would be Penny’s decision.” He made yet another note that when they went into town to purchase Penny’s ribbon, they pick up one for this girl, too. As well as several ribbons for Vi. And a new doll. Quite a few dresses. And shoes that the girl would actually wear.

  Wheeler arrived back from his trip to Lexington with the medicine in hand. One look at his wife seemed to relieve the man’s anxiety. With tears in her eyes, Sally told him Penny’s fever seemed to be coming down and her breathing was easier.

  Ned looked at the couple whose bond was so deep they could communicate without words. He knew they’d do anything for their children. He had a feeling Wheeler would’ve stolen the medicine if he’d had to. He would’ve done anything to protect his family.

  Ned had always been devoted to his parents while they lived, and to his brothers, sister and aunts. But now he was beginning to understand the awesome responsibility he would take on if he truly wanted to be a father to his daughter.

  A tired Jane came out of the bedroom. She confirmed for Mr. Wheeler what his wife had just told him. She left explicit instructions on how to care for Penny and asked to be contacted immediately should her temperature begin to rise again. But if all remained the same, she’d return the next day and check on her.

  It had finally stopped raining as she and Ned rode home with John Wheeler. Ned asked Wheeler several questions about the farm and the surrounding area while Jane reflected on her morning.

  She hadn’t been surprised that Ned had wanted to accompany her, given his protective streak that seemed to be growing by the hour. But what she hadn’t expected was for him to fit in so well with the Wheeler children. She’d heard bits and pieces of their conversation. He’d made them laugh and taken their minds off their sister’s illness.

  And he’d paid for Penny’s medicine.

  She knew he had a generous nature. But she’d never felt comfortable being in anyone’s debt. She already owed him the £100 he’d paid Cantwell and for the provisions his man had picked up in town. Now there was Penny’s medicine. She knew he didn’t expect to be repaid. But she wondered if it was all part of his strategy to get her to marry him by showing how indispensable he was.