by Regina Scott
“I think you have the worst lot,” Jane murmured to Patience one day as Lady Carrolton had complained about the weather, the government, and her health at such length that even Larissa was regarding her with concern. “Does she go on like that often?”
“Too often for those who know her,” Patience said. Then she grimaced. “Sorry. That sounded unkind. I am convinced a vibrant, caring woman lives inside that bitter shell. I just haven’t found a way to bring her out.”
Lady Carrolton began sniffing then, and Patience hurried to offer her vinaigrette, which she proceeded to breathe over, shuddering each time to the macabre fascination of the girls. She had raised a hand, likely to wave off Patience, when she froze. “What is that?”
Jane squinted, then jumped to her feet. A spider dangled on its silken thread from the high ceiling. Even as she started forward, it dropped to the tea tray. Lady Carrolton stared at it in horror, but Her Grace’s look was more concerned, and it was trained on Callie.
Larissa put her arm about her sister. “It’s all right. It can’t hurt you.”
Belle didn’t seem so sure, pushing back in her seat and tucking her feet up under her skirts.
Jane had nearly reached the table when Callie shrugged out of Larissa’s hold and rose. Jane readied herself for the scream, the dash from the room. Instead, Callie brought her hand down with a mighty whack, setting the tea things to rattling.
Jane jerked to a stop. Callie twisted her hand to eye the carnage on her glove, then glanced up at Jane with a grin.
“You were right, Mrs. Kimball. They are squishy.”
Lady Carrolton fainted.
“And then I smashed it,” Callie told her father that night when she came with Jane to make her report.
“Very brave of you,” Alaric said with a nod.
“You don’t have to be brave with spiders,” Callie said. “They’re squishy. Mrs. Kimball told me so, and she was right.”
“She often is,” he said. His gaze brushed hers, fleetingly, admiringly, like a caress to her cheek. That feeling of loneliness stole over her again. She had to fight against this melancholy!
It was from Patience that she learned of the upcoming dinner party.
“It would be too much to hope you’d be invited as well,” she said, fingers twined around the handle of the box in her lap. “I’ll be sitting beside her ladyship and her daughter, of course, but I doubt anyone will say the least word to me. We companions tend to be invisible until needed.”
“If it’s a fancy dinner party, the girls won’t be attending,” Jane said. “No girls, no need for a governess.”
“That’s just it,” Patience said. “I understood from her ladyship that the girls will be expected to attend at least part of the time. His Grace is seeking a mother for them, after all. Perhaps he wants their opinion.”
Her body felt heavy, as if someone had slung a sodden blanket over her shoulders. “More likely the duchess wants them on display. Might as well know what you’re getting into.”
Patience sighed. “Three darling girls and a handsome, wealthy duke for a husband. Most women I know would want to accept.”
Jane aimed her gaze at her hands, afraid what her face would reveal. “You’d marry him, then, if given the chance?”
“A fellow like the duke isn’t likely to notice me,” Patience said. “I’m invisible, remember? And there are moments I far prefer it that way.”
Lady Carrolton began gagging. Jane caught Patience’s hand as she rose. “If you ever want another position, I may know someone who could help.”
Patience offered her a grateful smile before going to see to her mistress.
Jane was still thinking about Patience’s words when she took Belle to report to the duke that night. Parsons let them in with his usual proper demeanor. He at least seemed pleased that Jane and Alaric were nothing more than polite to each other. But Belle paid the butler no mind. She ran to climb up into her father’s lap. Jane’s heart turned over as Alaric bent to rub noses with Belle, who giggled. So much for being cold and unreachable.
Jane took her seat opposite them and waited to begin until he looked up. Once again, those green eyes were kind, trusting. She fisted her hands in her lap to keep herself focused.
“Everything is going well, Your Grace. Larissa and Callie are learning a new song, and Belle wrote out an entire verse today.”
Belle nodded, golden curls brushing his paisley waistcoat. “‘Heaviness in the heart of man maketh it stoop: but a good word maketh it glad.’ Mrs. Kimball says that means we should say nice things to people.”
His smiled brushed Jane. “Very wise.”
“I’m going to say nice things to our new mother,” Belle said.
He stiffened. Jane held her breath. Deny it. Please deny it.
“Why do you think you’re getting a new mother, Belle?” he asked, so cautiously he might have been holding his breath too.
“Callie said that Betsy said that Grandmother’s maid said that Grandmother said…” she paused. “Yes, that’s right. Grandmother said you needed to marry again. And Larissa said so too.” She nodded as if that was the end of the matter.
“Very likely I will marry again,” he told her daughter, the fact like a knife in Jane’s chest. “But rest assured I will consider you and your sisters before I do.”
Jane breathed, but not without a pang. Of course he must marry. She had the luxury of mourning Jimmy all her life, if she wanted. He needed a son.
“Promise?” Belle asked.
“Promise,” he said. “Never doubt a duke.”
Jane forced her voice to come out. “I understand there’s to be a dinner party soon. Do you want the girls to attend?”
“Perhaps someone can bring them while we gather in the withdrawing room before dinner,” he said. “Betsy can escort them if you like.”
He was keeping her safely away from the others. Probably for the best. Who knew what she’d blurt out? He’d have a lot of explaining to do if she confessed her feelings. Yet she longed to know who would be in attendance, how he reacted to them. If only she could be mouse in the corner, one of the painted cherubs on the ceiling.
Or a little girl with a large propensity to repeat exactly what was said to her.
~~~
The night of the dinner party, Alaric stood near the hearth, well aware his back was to the wall. He finally understood the choice of certain ladies to hide behind potted palms, for if his mother had consented to bring a tree into the withdrawing room, he’d have been sorely tempted to take refuge.
Of course, the obvious spot to hide had been the library, and he was almost willing to forego the night’s dubious pleasure for work. Several more troubling accounts had come in about thefts of food and clothing, barns broken into. He couldn’t help wondering whether Simmons was intent on enacting vengeance. He’d assigned Willard to investigate the matter, which, he supposed, meant he had the luxury of socializing for the moment.
Her Grace and Lady Carrolton had arranged for three of the most elegant young ladies of their acquaintance to be in attendance, along with their mothers and fathers, brothers, and assorted friends. It was a congenial group, conversing easily. After all, it wasn’t every day that the Hermit Duke entertained. At the moment, he felt more like King Louis facing the mob.
Unlike the mob, however, they were all lovely, appropriately educated, well bred. They smiled as they responded to his attempts at conversation. But Lady Elspeth, pale hair shining, kept glancing at the door as if she was just as eager to escape. The statuesque Lady Lilith prickled at the least sign he might disagree with her opinions, setting her black ringlets to quivering. And the titian-haired Lady Fredericka eyed him as if she expected him to bolt from the room, which was certainly preferable to standing here on display.
“I recognize that smile,” Gregory, Lord Carrolton, said, joining Alaric along the wall. “It’s the same one you’d give the dons when they enquired whether you were ready for the exam, and we all knew
you’d spent the previous day riding.”
Alaric chuckled despite himself. “I hope you’ll be as congenial when I refuse to offer for your sister.”
His friend glanced at Lady Lilith, who was glowering at Miss Ramsey as she waved the vinaigrette under their mother’s nose. “She is an intelligent, devoted woman. But I’d understand completely if you choose not to wed her.”
He felt for the fellow. Powerfully built, with a deep booming voice, Carrolton always seemed in command of any situation, except when it came to his mother and sister.
“Is there nothing that can be done for your mother’s affliction?” Alaric murmured.
Carrolton sighed. “I’ve had the best London physicians examine her, and all claim she is perfectly healthy. If it wasn’t for Miss Ramsey, I’d be tempted to run off and play pirate with Harry.”
Alaric grinned at the mention of their other friend, Sir Harry Orwell, whose home along the coast had once sheltered pirates and smugglers. “Pirate, or spy?”
Carrolton’s eyes widened. “Did he agree to work for the War Office, then?”
“You didn’t hear it from me.”
The girls’ arrival prevented further conversation. He had suggested that Betsy bring them, but it was Jane who stood behind them in the doorway. She was wearing a burgundy-colored gown with simple lines that called attention to her curves. Perhaps it was the color that made her face seemed flushed. Regardless, her eyes sparkled with mischief, as if she intended to thoroughly disrupt this staid, lifeless party.
He would have paid good money to see her do it.
He forced his gaze to his daughters in their dainty white gowns, each one with a different-colored ribbon around the waist. At least Jane had allowed them that much originality while they waited for their London clothes to arrive.
Among so many strangers, they hung back. Belle was clinging to Jane’s skirts, Callie was half hidden behind her, and even Larissa shifted from foot to foot. He pushed away from the wall and strode to meet them.
“And here are the prettiest ladies of my acquaintance,” he told them, smiling down at them. Larissa returned his smile. Callie straightened, and Belle transferred her fingers from Jane’s skirts to his black evening breeches.
He lowered his voice for Jane’s ears alone. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” she said. “Sure you’ll be all right?”
Not at all. “They’re my daughters,” he said aloud. “I’m proud of them.”
All three of them beamed at him.
With a smile of encouragement, Jane faded out the door, and he had to stop himself from following.
He turned instead, putting the girls in front of him. “My lords and ladies, may I present my daughters, Lady Larissa, Lady Calantha, and Lady Abelona.”
The gentlemen, mostly fathers or brothers of the debutantes or husbands of his mother’s friends, all inclined their heads in greeting. One of the older women raised her quizzing glass and squinted at the girls through it as if measuring every inch. Lady Lilith stepped back, chin up, as if his girls had brought the pestilence. Her mother sneezed in quick succession. Miss Ramsey hurried to offer a handkerchief.
“What lovely young ladies,” Lady Fredericka said, venturing closer, her sapphire-colored skirts swaying. “Why, I would be smitten with jealousy if they came out with me.”
Callie cocked her head. “Why?”
She bent and tweaked one of Callie’s limp curls. “Because you’re just so adorable.”
“Larissa and Calantha are taking singing lessons,” his mother informed the guests. “They are becoming quite proficient.”
Lady Fredericka straightened. “Perhaps you would favor us with a song.”
Larissa shook her head, backing away until she bumped against Alaric’s leg. He lay a hand on her shoulder in support. “Perhaps another time.”
He felt her sigh of relief.
“I’ll sing,” Belle declared. “I know a song Mrs. Kimball taught us.”
“No!” He brought his other hand down on her shoulder even as Lady Fredericka’s brows rose, very likely at his strident tone. “That is, I think it would be better if we conversed with our guests. Mother, would you take Larissa around?”
His mother stepped forward, and Larissa all but ran to her.
Lady Fredericka filled the space his daughter had vacated. “I would be delighted to converse with little Calantha, Your Grace. I’m sure we have much to discuss.”
He glanced at his middle daughter, who was frowning at Lady Fredericka. She wanted to talk to Callie. Callie, who was known to blurt out every secret, annoyance, or embarrassment anyone in his household had ever uttered in her hearing. Callie, who could very well frighten away any lady who might show interest.
He smiled. “What an excellent idea. Calantha, be sure to speak to Lady Elspeth and Lady Lilith as well. I’m sure they’d love to listen to whatever you care to say.”
Chapter Nineteen
“And when Lady Elspeth asked whether I liked the schoolroom, I told her I liked it a lot better since Mrs. Kimball threw out Simmons for putting spiders in our beds,” Callie told her rapt listeners, pausing to take a bite of her toast and swallow it. “I liked her, but she won’t marry Father. Lord Carrolton said she is pining for her sweetheart at home and only came tonight because her mother insisted. Marrying a duke is better than marrying a second son.”
Larissa nodded wisely. The three girls were gathered around the hearth in Jane’s room, nightgowns puddled about their feet and toasting forks in their hands. Jane had sent Betsy, Maud, and Percy the footman to bed, wanting only to hear more of what had happened downstairs, with no witnesses to any turmoil it might cause her.
Now she felt a tug of guilt at her delight that the lovely blonde would not be pursuing Alaric. From her brief glimpse in the withdrawing room when she’d escorted the girls, it seemed that all the young ladies invited to dinner were beautiful, graceful creatures. Likely they’d make far better duchesses than she ever would.
Her hopes that Callie would be her eyes and ears after Jane had bowed out had been rewarded with a wealth of information. Lady Elspeth loved another. Lady Lilith’s hauteur deterred interest. And none of the girls had liked Lady Fredericka.
“She pinched me,” Belle complained, accepting a piece of toast from Jane.
“She pinched all of us,” Larissa said, rubbing at her cheek as if she could feel the lady’s fingers even now. “But Father will probably marry her. She’s beautiful.”
Jane busied herself affixing another piece of bread to the toasting fork. “You never know. Beauty isn’t everything.”
Callie brightened. “Lord Waterbury said Lady Fredericka had only her beauty to recommend her, so if Father doesn’t want a beautiful wife, then perhaps he won’t pick her.”
“Every man wants a beautiful wife,” Larissa informed her. “Plain girls end up spinsters.”
The far plainer Callie slumped. Jane set down the fork and aimed her frown at Larissa. “I don’t know who’s been filling your head with such drivel, but that’s quite enough. A man wants a wife who will respect and care about him. If a fellow focuses only on the outside, there’s something wrong with him, not the lady.”
Larissa tossed her head. “You don’t understand. You married a cavalry officer.”
“Who could have had his pick,” Jane informed her. “Every girl in three counties had set her cap for him. He still chose me.”
“That’s because you’re beautiful,” Belle said, climbing into Jane’s lap. “Inside and out.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Jane said, relishing the warmth of the little body next to hers. “But I know I’m no great beauty. And neither do you have to be to have a happy life.”
Callie nodded, but Larissa looked unconvinced.
Jane let them finish their toast and escorted them back to bed. Larissa and Callie snuggled in right away, but Belle’s eyes were wide and bright as Jane drew up the covers on the big bed in the little girl’s room
.
“I know who Father should marry,” she said as Jane brushed a golden curl from her forehead. “You.”
Something clutched at her heart. “Dukes don’t marry governesses, Belle.”
She frowned. “Do they have to marry princesses?”
Jane smiled. “No, but they must marry someone who will do them credit.”
“Oh.” She yawned. “Well, perhaps you could do Father credit. I’d help.”
“I’m sure you would. Goodnight, Belle.”
“Goodnight, Mrs. Kimball. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
Jane moved away from the bed and shut the door behind her. Funny. So many times Jimmy and his friends had talked about the Forlorn Hope—a dangerous effort to take a position in enemy territory, a task so difficult and important that most of the men would attempt it in the hope of glory and promotion and die instead. She’d never entirely understood the attraction, until now. A part of her very much wanted to march down to the dinner party and proclaim that Alaric would marry no one but her. How glorious indeed if he should throw down his napkin, leap to his feet, take her in his arms, and declare his love.
Unfortunately, the duchess would probably order Jane from the castle while he shook his head and apologized to his guests for her impetuous nature. Her hopes were forlorn indeed.
~~~
Jane did not report to him that night. With the dinner party lasting until nearly midnight, Alaric did not think she would. Yet he missed the sight of her, that conspiratorial smile, the banter they used to share. Jane would have had something to say about Lady Fredericka, Lady Lilith, and Lady Elspeth. He could almost hear her voice as his valet helped him undress.
You don’t want a duchess who wouldn’t say boo to a goose or sneer at everything you do. Lady Fredericka, now, at least she had backbone. Though she seems to admire the silver and the plate as much as I do.
