The Persuasion of Miss Jane Brody

by Hargreaves, Isabella

  “You chose the paper, hangings and furniture?” Jane was surprised. “You had assistance?”

  “Not at all. I had a vision of what might please and chose everything myself. I have no experience to draw upon, so it must have been sheer beginner’s luck to have chosen so well.”

  “You are extremely modest.”

  “Perhaps I have missed my vocation and should have been an architect. I could have been another James Nash perhaps?”

  They had wandered into the room and Jane released Jonathan’s arm to move forward to run her hand down the silken bed curtains. He followed her and Jane felt his hand run, not down the curtains as hers had done, but down her back, from shoulder to buttock in one long tingling sweep before rising to her waist. “Could you be happy here?” he asked softly.

  “Yes.” She looked over her shoulder at him.

  His eyes, deep and warm, caught hers and held their gaze. “I created it for you. Only you.”

  Stunned, she whispered, “How did you know what I would like?”

  “I didn’t – I guessed – I imagined what you would choose based on your dress, your home, your interests.”

  Her mouth formed a silent ‘oh’.

  His other hand slid around her waist and he turned her into his arms. His lips began to tease the tender skin of her neck trailing up to her mouth. He drew her closer still as his mouth found hers. Jonathan gradually stepped her backwards one step at a time until she leant against the bedpost. His muscular chest pinned her there while the silken curtains slithered around her feet and ankles.

  “Jane, Jane. How I want you,” he whispered.

  She sighed in response, her own lips seeking to give as well as receive. His hands moved to hold her face as his lips lavished affection on her mouth. His fingers slid into her tight bun of hair causing pins to cascade to the floor around Jane’s feet. She felt her tresses slump heavily onto her shoulders before flaring down her back.

  “Marry me Jane, promise me you will.” She heard urgency in his voice.

  “Yes, I will,” she breathed.

  “Then lay with me Jane and make the dream real.” Fitting action to words, she felt Jonathan reach down to lift her. He gently placed her on the bed, following her there. He lay half across her body, still kissing her mouth, one hand on her cheek while the other caressed her thigh through her black woollen dress.

  Slowly she felt the cool air climb higher up her legs as the dress was drawn upwards by his purposeful hand. Soon long fingers were gently stroking her inner thigh causing heat to flood through her. His questing fingers reached their goal.

  “Ah… Mmmm.” She gasped in surprise, then sighed in delight. His stroking tongue tangled with hers as his kisses deepened and his magic stroking hand had her hips lifting off the bed in rapture.

  His clever fingers tantalised her one last time as Jonathan kissed her hard on the mouth in a send off. Jane felt the exquisite, tortuous tension explode into a thousand sparkles in her head and, as if from a distance, she heard herself let out a keening moan of release.

  “More,” she groaned. “Give me more.”

  She saw Jonathan unfasten the fall of his trousers before rolling on top of her. She instinctively drew up her legs to give him access. He braced himself above her and looked down into her eyes, then… stopped.

  “My God, what am I doing?” he said as he rolled off her and off the bed. He stumbled and reached for the mantelpiece to steady himself.

  Jane drew deep breaths trying to regain her composure as she lay spread-eagled across the bed. Jonathan was standing hunched by the fireplace, a hand clamped to its mantelpiece with his arm braced holding himself upright. He turned his head towards her. “I am so very sorry Jane. That was completely unplanned. I hope you won’t find it unforgivable though.” He wore a tortured expression.

  She drew breath once more. “No Jonathan, I do not blame you, nor do I find it unforgivable. I am as much to blame as you - if there is any fault to apportion. Perhaps we should be more careful of being alone together if we can’t trust ourselves to keep our urges under control. It would be a pity for either of us to be trapped in this engagement by our actions while we decide whether to marry.”

  “Yes, of course. Thank you for your understanding.” He turned away to discretely rearrange his clothes.

  She knelt to retrieve her hair pins. “I think I will just go and sit by the window for a little while longer until I regain my savoir faire,” Jane said.

  A few minutes later, hair restored to order and seated at the small writing desk set before the window, Jane spoke contemplatively. “I can see myself here, pen in hand, writing my next pamphlet.”

  “Will you persist in writing pamphlets Jane? Will there be any point? Will there be any time?” asked Jonathan.

  “Of course there will be time. There was time while I was raising my siblings. There must be time. I will ensure there is. I will insist upon it.”

  “What of your other duties?” He was now standing tall beside the fireplace, completely recovered and looking formal and inflexible.

  “Which ones will I be performing at dawn when I usually write?” Jane asked.

  “Perhaps your wifely ones?” he answered.

  “Morning, noon and night?” she taunted. “Will there be no rest from sating your needs?”

  “It is not a matter of sating my needs, as you put it, but perhaps you will find it a better, no, more pleasurable, use of your time.” He winked.

  “That remains to be seen.” Jane didn’t want to concede anything.

  “Oh, I think you have seen, or rather felt, what it can be like.”

  She blushed. “I don’t think it will mean that I never want to express my opinion in writing again though. Are you going to actively stop me from writing? Are you going to forbid me from writing?” Jane demanded.

  Jonathan looked serious, his eyebrows a straight frown across his face. “No I won’t forbid you from doing it, but I do think that you should consider the effect of your writing on my political career, when you are my wife.”

  “If I become your wife.” Jane felt combative.

  “If you become my wife, I’m sure you will consider your actions and their effects on your family; our family.” He was all stiff and proper again. Gone was the passionate, persuasive lover.

  Jane felt saddened by the change. She stood. “I must leave. Katherine is at home by herself. I have been away too long.”

  “Let me call the carriage to take you home. Come.” He held out his arm for her.

  She nodded acceptance and tucked her hand through his arm. With one last look at the room where so much had already taken place and so many more encounters like it would likely occur if she married him, Jane left the room wondering whether she would ever see it again.

  Jonathan escorted Jane to the front door. The butler, Jones, was nowhere in sight, so he kissed her cheek in farewell then took her hand in his and lingered over kissing each of her fingers. Fascinated by his worshipful manner, Jane was still in a dream as he opened the front door and was startled to see Lady Mulgrave approaching along the pavement, armed with the day’s paper. Jane almost wrenched her hand from his.

  “Dalton, I was just looking for you,” Lady Mulgrave exclaimed. She looked set for battle. After greeting her briefly, Jane quickly took her leave with a whispered apology to her fiancé and hastened down the front stairs in her hurry to avoid Lady Mulgrave’s wrath and condemnation.

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  His aunt cornered him in the foyer. “Jonathan,” she said. “What is the meaning of this announcement of your engagement to that bluestocking!”

  “Let us go to the library Aunt Lucinda, so that we may talk without an audience,” Dalton warned. He offered her his arm, but she ignored it and steamed to the library unaided. Jonathan ambled in he
r wake.

  She waited on the Indian carpet before his desk, while he followed her into the room, closed the door precisely and took his seat. “Well Aunt Lucinda, do you have something to say to me?” he asked.

  “What is the meaning of this announcement?” she asked as she slapped the open paper down onto his desk in front of him.

  He looked at her with what he hoped was a steely set to his face. “The announcement has the usual meaning of an engagement notice – that the two parties named will marry in the near future, their lives forever indivisible.”

  “Yes,” she said, “I understand that, but why that woman? Of the many young ladies from whom you could choose, you chose her over them all? I am incredulous. She is a nobody, but worse than that, a nobody with some dangerous, no, quite ludicrous, opinions about the rights of women.”

  Jonathan lost all feelings of amusement. “I advise you Aunt Lucinda, do not say anything more in criticism of my future wife.”

  “I will say whatever I think fit!” she responded.

  “If you wish to be received in this house again, I advise you to say no more.” His made his voice more chilling.

  Obviously seeing his look and finally understanding his serious intent, she held her fire but began to withdraw from the library speaking as she did so. “You will regret the day you married that bluestocking!”

  Lord Dalton stood abruptly and she exited the room swiftly with a loud click of the door latch behind her.

  Nine

  Jonathan had a week to feel remorse for his ill-considered actions in the Marchioness’ Room before he saw Jane again. They were to travel to Everslie Manor in Hampshire accompanied by their respective sisters. In that time his mind replayed again and again their amorous encounter. What that inflamed event confirmed to him was that his passion for her was returned equally. That was a good sign. However, as Jane had pointed out, if either wished to have the ability to put an end to their engagement at any time in the next month, then they needed to be chaperoned at all times.

  Not so reassuring was the continuing disparity in their beliefs about the rights of and appropriate roles for women. How much was each willing to change? At his most optimistic he thought they would find a middle ground, but when he considered his political role he found he felt he had little scope to give way. He doubted Jane would modify her stance. This forced him to ask himself whether he would love her so ardently if she was willing to alter her beliefs. He suspected that a fundamental part of his attraction was her resolve and determination to effect change. When combined with her devotion to others, her intellect and spirit, he found it irresistible!

  So in his last week in London, Jonathan plunged into the legal details necessary for the settlements on Jane’s sisters and herself. His solicitor promised contracts for signature before their departure for Everslie. He saw his sister only for meals, but thought little of it, as she was busy with her charity work with Dr Logan and Mrs Courtice. On his last day in town he made the rounds of his clubs and good-naturedly took the ribbing about his engagement to a notorious bluestocking from the few hardy members who remained in London for the winter. The only disturbing comment was from a chance encounter at White’s with Lord Marchmere who, with a knowing look on his pugnacious face, hailed him across the lobby for all to hear. “I see you took my advice after all Dalton. Silence that woman now you have her shackled and under your thumb and it will be better for all of us. Good work. Good work!” Before Jonathon could answer, Marchmere exited quickly with his companions, the comment drawing laughter from all in the vicinity.

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  The day had dawned crisp with frost. Lord Dalton’s coach was packed with their luggage. Lady Elizabeth, Katherine and Anna, the latter released from her duties for the next two weeks, were seated inside with hot bricks under their feet and fur rugs on their laps ready to set off. Jane still stood in the street mentally checking that she had completed all her tasks. Mrs Creevy and Joe were to look after the house in the family’s absence.

  At that moment the housekeeper hurried out onto the front step. “Miss Jane, the mail. You didn’t take it from the hall table, it was late this morning.”

  Jane thanked her and opened the letter she had held out – Charlotte’s weekly missive. This time from near Portsmouth, she noted. There was just one page, folded and addressed – unusually short correspondence for Charlotte, Jane thought. She quickly ran her eye across the brief message. She read it again, more slowly this time, to get the full meaning of the words. Her stomach knotted with fear.

  “What is it Jane?” called Elizabeth.

  Jane looked up at the three faces in the carriage, all turned to her expectantly. “Bad news from my sister. I have to travel to Portsmouth to her immediately.”

  Three voices spoke out at once in response.

  “How?”

  “You can’t.”

  “Shall I come with you?”

  “No, I must go on my own. I only have money for one person to travel and it must be me.”

  “Wait Jane,” said Elizabeth. “Send word to Jonathan. He will help you.”

  “More like stop me!” she countered. “I am going to rescue my sister. Her husband has taken to beating her. She says she is black and blue. He is transferred to India with his regiment and they will embark within days. There is no time to waste. If I am going to help her, I must do it alone, without involving your brother, Elizabeth. It’s impossible under the law to keep a wife from her husband. I can’t involve Jonathan, it would be damaging to his career. I will have to hide Charlotte until we are sure the ship has departed.”

  “If you won’t let us or Jonathan accompany you, at least take some of the money I have for the journey.” Elizabeth thrust coin and notes at Jane who took the offering with gratitude.

  “Thank you Elizabeth. I will catch the next stage coach to Portsmouth, snatch Charlotte as quickly as I can, and take a coach to Winchester; stay there a week and then on to Everslie - if Jonathan will take Charlotte in after the regiment has departed.”

  “I’m sure he will Jane. Let us tell him now and he will help you.”

  “No, I mustn’t involve him in this – at least until the regiment leaves the country. Trust me Elizabeth.”

  “What about taking Joe to help you?”

  “No, he is needed here. Believe me, I can do this.” Jane was determined.

  “Where will you stay?” asked Elizabeth, concern evident on her face.

  “Charlotte suggests the Kings Arms near her lodgings and I will be able to watch for his leaving.”

  “Get in Jane. We will set you down at the staging inn,” said Elizabeth.

  She gave the coachman instructions and they set off. As soon as they arrived at the bustling inn, Jane hugged her sisters and assured them she would see them in a week - bringing Charlotte.

  It was after nightfall before Jane’s coach reached the Kings Arms and she stumbled out, her back and limbs aching from the jolting and jarring of the journey. She had difficulty getting a room because she was travelling alone, but made a great fuss about governesses, on their way home after working all hours for ungrateful families, not being treated with respect by anyone. For her efforts she got what must have been the smallest and drabbest room of the inn, overlooking the busy yard where coaches would arrive and depart throughout the night with horns blaring. She expected little sleep anyway with so much going through her mind, so it would not matter, she told herself.

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  As soon as Elizabeth saw Jane scamper into the staging inn, she instructed the coachman to make for Dalton House. The man was incredulous. “What my lady? Are we not travelling into Hampshire today?”

  “Yes, we shall be travelling out of London today, but first I must speak with my brother. Return us to Dalton House immediately. I don’t want him to set off withou
t my speaking with him.”

  The coachman swallowed his mutters, much to his companion on the box’s amusement, and set the horses off again. Within half an hour they were at their destination. Elizabeth scrambled from the warmth of the carriage without assistance from the coachman’s offsider. As the butler opened the door, he showed surprise at seeing her again this side of a fortnight.

  “Where is your master, Jones, I wish to speak with him immediately.” Charlotte was sufficiently distraught to cause the butler to lose his impassive stance. “In the study Lady Elizabeth, with his man of business. Is anything the matter?”

  “Nothing he can’t assist me with. Thank you Jones.”

  Elizabeth rushed to the study door and knocked loudly before entering. “Jonathan, I need your help!”

  Jonathan’s look of puzzlement changed to apprehension. “Whatever has happened Elizabeth? Why have you not set off for Everslie yet? Has there been an accident?”

  “No, nothing like that. May I speak with you privately though. We will set off immediately afterwards.”

  “Yes, yes.” Turning to Stevens he dismissed him and asked Elizabeth, “What is it?”

  “It’s Jane,” she exclaimed without preamble.

  Jonathan was astonished. “Jane? What on Earth! Is she unwell? Has she refused to travel to Everslie?”

  “She has gone to Portsmouth to rescue her sister!”

  “What?!” He took her by the arm and led her to the sofa beside the crackling fire then stood beside the fire. “Here, sit down and tell me all.”

  “Her sister Charlotte’s husband has beaten her and his regiment is leaving for India in the next few days. Jane has gone to take Charlotte into hiding – at Winchester – until the regiment departs. She refused to contact you as she said it would damage you politically to be involved.” Elizabeth clasped her hands together to stop them shaking and looked at her brother for guidance.

  Jonathan strode to the sofa and sat beside her, taking one of her busy hands in both of his. He looked into her worried eyes. “That’s as maybe, but I can’t let her do this alone. It is far too dangerous. Does she travel alone?”