“Definitely the sapphires,” Lady Patience said adding her opinion.
Lady Charlotte nodded. “Sapphires,” she agreed.
“I have pearls,” Jane said. “They were my mother’s.”
“But today, you are not Miss Jane Bellevue,” Lady Amelia insisted.
“You shall be Lady Jane,” Lady Charlotte said remembering that Jane’s father called her that.
Jane felt tears spring to her eyes. “You are too kind,” she said as Amelia hung the expensive jewels around her neck. They were a glittering mass of sapphires and diamonds.
“There are earrings here somewhere,” Lady Amelia said.
Lady Patience held up the glass so that Jane could take a look at herself. She touched the jewels. They were possibly worth more than her father’s house.
Lady Charlotte brought up the peacock mask and Jane thought she did not even recognize herself.
“Excellent,” Lady Amelia said nodding her approval
“Thank you. All of you.” Jane said sincerely.
Lady Amelia only grinned at Jane as she turned this way and that to see the whole effect in the glass.
“Oh, that’s lovely,” Lady Patience said.
“It is a bit long,” Amelia noted, and Jane’s felt disappointment fill her. For just this one night, she had wanted to be a true lady.
“It is nothing,” said the maid as she knelt to take the measurement of the gown. “It is only a hem and the ball is not until tomorrow night.”
“Will it be done in time?” Jane wondered.
“Of course it will,” Lady Amelia said. “Gabby is quite quick with her needle.”
“Thank you, my lady,” she said to Lady Amelia.
“I shall feel like royalty in this gown,” Jane muttered as she traced her fingers over the fine fabric.
“As you should, my dear,” Lady Patience said a knowing smile on her face. Jane simply smiled as she continued to examine the dress, deep in thought.
“You shall surely catch a husband in that dress,” Lady Charlotte said, and the thought brought Jane up short.
Yes, she thought. She should be looking for another beau, one who was completely eligible. Still none could capture her heart like Lord Keegain.
“Perhaps even the one you are thinking of,” Lady Charlotte whispered. “You know, my brother’s favorite color is purple.”
Jane opened her mouth to speak, but found there was nothing she could say. She only squeezed Charlotte’s hand in silent thanks. Jane found she could hardly contain her excitement.
Perhaps she would impress the gentleman that she wanted to impress. Perhaps it was possible. A flutter of delight filled her at the thought. With Lady Charlotte and Lady Amelia on her side she felt bold.
23
The earl looked around the dining room. Jane was not at breakfast.
Considering Lady Margret’s treatment of her yesterday morning, Lord Keegain did not blame her for eating in her room, but the thought filled him with sadness. He wanted to see her. Still, on this of all days, she was probably safer in her room. He was in a high state of awareness, and he had spoken with Ted so many times already today that the man snapped at him.
“I do know how to do my job, Keegain.”
“Of course you do,” the earl apologized. Still, he was wound tight as a top. He forced himself to eat slowly and chew lest he find himself with indigestion.
Margret was holding court at her end of the table.
“Ladies, I simply must insist on it,” Margret said, as she leaned over the table as if in silent conspiracy with everyone in the room. She had gathered them all so close that Keegain wondered who was left to hide from. He found that ever since her castigation of Jane yesterday, he found a dozen little things about Margret which annoyed him.
He made an effort to relax and pay attention to the conversation, but he had been woolgathering too long and he had lost its direction. What mischief was Margret planning?
“But Margret,” his sister Helen protested, a look of horror on her face. “It is cold and about to storm.” She indicated the threatening clouds.
“Nonsense.” Margret said gaily, “Those clouds have been building for hours and we are not walking to London, just a simple stroll through the gardens.”
“The gardens?” Keegain regarded her quizzically. “In the middle of winter? Whatever for?”
“Ah, but that is the duty of it. I am given to understand that the Queen herself takes a walk in the garden every day, regardless of the weather. She attests it is, in fact, the secret to her good health.”
“To the Queen,” Reynolds raised his glass. The table joined in.
“Besides,” Margret continued, “it does get beastly stuffy inside all day, do you not agree?”
“Well,” Charlotte looked from one woman to the next with a devilish grin on her face. “Well, and why not then?”
“I think it should be bracing indeed!” Margaret continued.
Lady Patience nodded. “I do love walking,” she said. “I believe I would like a walk after breakfast.” One by one the other women agreed, much to the consternation of the men.
Keegain stole a look at Reynolds but the man did not so much as frown. Keegain shook his head at his own foolishness. Of course, there would be little enough risk to walk on an overcast morning in the company of others. The garden was walled, and private. It was when everyone wore masks and there were shadows behind drapes and curtains that would be the danger, not now in the daylight.
It was quickly agreed that the ladies were to stroll the grounds, despite the muddiness of the pathways and the mounting breezes, though why precisely, Keegain could not guess. Sometimes women were unfathomable. There were certainly no flowers to enjoy at this time of year, nor would the trees be in leaf. There would be little enough there to look upon, but their excitement grew and the ladies began excusing themselves to go and prepare for their outing.
The gentlemen stood to see them off, but as they too wandered from the table in search of distraction. Reynolds promised to escort the ladies, as if they were going to a ball. Keegain did not understand. They had no need of an escort. They had no need to go outside at all, but he supposed that Reynolds would keep them safe. He had admonished the man to do so.
Jane decided to stay in her room, rather than risk breakfast. It was the day of the Christmas ball, and she was sure that the staff would be busy, so she ordered tea in her room. She spent the morning reading one of the books that Lord Keegain had given her while sparing glances at the beautiful gown that hung ready to wear in her room. Lady Amelia kept the jewels in a locked box, but promised she would bring them to Jane before the ball.
Jacqueline had come and gone. Molly had brought her breakfast tray and had come back to take away the leavings.
Jane laid her book aside and picked up her mother’s pearls. She would not wear them tonight, but she would still have her mother’s spirit with her.
The more she thought about it, the more she decided it was cowardly to hide in her room. What could Margret do, that she had not already done? So, she might ridicule her dress. Jane had expected that.
What was much harder to bear was the knowledge that once she left Kennett Park it was doubtful she would ever see Lord Keegain again. Even if she did, it would not be in the same manner as now. Was she really hiding from Lady Margret, or was it her own tempestuous feelings that frightened her?
Trust your heart, and you shall never be unhappy, her mother had said, but Jane had been afraid to trust her heart.
She pulled together her determination and opened her bedroom door. She would not hide from the likes of Lady Margret Fairfax, or from her own feelings.
As Jane descended the stair, the ladies returned from their walk, flushed and excited. Even within the walls of the small formal garden behind the house the wind had been incredible. The ladies laughed and chatted amicably.
“You should have come!” Lady Charlotte scolded Jane as she removed her cloak. “I wou
ld not have thought of walking outside in this weather, but Margret was right, it was an invigorating experience!”
Jane saw what the others did not. Cheeks flushed, hair askew, skirts muddied. Lady Margret stood among them, serene and perfect, her pale cheeks, and the alabaster of her skin without a mark from the wind. She had stepped out with them, to be sure, but no doubt the lady stood out of the wind. How many of the ladies had noticed that Margret had stayed within the shelter of the door and entered with them as though she had been one of their number all along? Jane reached for Lady Charlotte’s hand, drawing her aside with a nod toward the others.
“Is it time for tea yet? I am absolutely famished!” Lady Alice exclaimed and the others called their assent. Lady Margret laughed and urged them to come and sit. They followed, laughing at their appearances, still not seeing how askew all were, even as they passed the door to the study where the gentlemen lounged at cards.
When Lady Charlotte saw the difficulty to which Jane was trying to draw her attention, her face went pale. “Oh no. I see.”
Lady Margret in sleek perfection trailed behind the rest of the ladies, and it was supremely obvious to Jane and Lady Charlotte both as the men’s eyebrows rose at the disheveled appearance of the rest. Their eyes came to rest in appreciation of Lady Margret who strode past with not so much as a hair out of place.
Jane noted that even the unflappable Lady Amelia looked a bit out of order, though her color was high and her eyes were bright. Lady Patience’s hair had turned into a frizzy orange ball in the misty snow. Her freckles stood out sharply on her pinked skin. Most of the ladies’ hair was in some disarray.
“She has made us all to look …” Lady Charlotte murmured.
“No,” Jane interrupted her, feeling her chin come up at the injustice of it all. “She has made herself to look better than everyone else.”
The others had not noticed. If they had, there might have been a revolt. Instead, the group made its way to the parlor for tea. Lady Charlotte looked from them to Jane and back, and called after them, “Ladies, let us not be overly hasty. Our tea will keep. Is it not our duty to look our best? Dear Margret was correct in thinking the crisp air would freshen our attitudes and restore vigor to our limbs, but let us next freshen ourselves, lest the gentlemen see us in such a windblown state.”
The ladies looked at one another and laughed. “That is so!” Lady Helen called out, though Alice looked longingly at the cakes through the open doorway.
As the ladies filed past, Lady Patience touched Jane’s shoulder and bent near. “That was wise; to draw Charlotte’s attention to what was happening. But you might expect trouble for it.” She nodded toward Lady Margret who had stayed behind her lips pursed.
Mr. Reynolds said something to her that brightened her attitude, and Jane could only hope that her ire stayed at bay.
Lady Amelia, who had joined them, nodded to Jane.
“Maybe you had best come with us.” She winked a startling blue eye. “There is safety in numbers.”
Jane was heartened by Lady Amelia’s grace and friendship, but she shook her head. She was no coward.
Indeed, Jane wanted a moment alone with Lady Margret. In truth, she wanted to speak to Lady Margret, perhaps to propose a cease fire, she thought. “I shall be fine.” With that Jane smiled and stepped into the parlor where Lady Margret awaited her. Perhaps Jane could discover what made the lady’s tongue so acid. Regardless, she must say something.
It was just the two of them, save a single servant who hovered near the tea cart ready to pour.
“I suppose you think you are clever,” Lady Margret said as Jane approached.
Jane only smiled. “Shall I serve us both while we wait for the others?”
“I daresay you should be more at home serving, would you not, Miss Bellevue?”
It was a nasty dig. Jane had been acutely aware that she was the only lady present whose family did not bear a title of some sort. But that Lady Margret would make an assumption that being not of the nobility put her on the level of a servant was highly insulting. Jane took a calming breath and nodded to the maid to pour out two cups of tea. She wanted to upend her cup into Lady Margret’s lap. Instead, she smiled blithely.
She was a lady in bearing if not in name. Her mother had always said so. Her father had ever called her Lady Jane, even though; she had no claim to the title. She would not lose her manners now.
“There is nothing demeaning in being able to be of service. Thank you, Miss Marple,” Jane said as she took the cups from Molly and who looked at her in surprise and smiled as she curtseyed. “I would say it even shows a great deal about a person’s character, would you not agree? Many writers have espoused service and humility from St. Augustine to Shakespeare himself.” Jane smiled. “How would you like your tea, Lady Margret?”
It was hard to be kind, but Jane couldn’t help but wonder if Lady Margret had known somehow of the tension between herself and the earl. If so, could she blame Margret for being out of sorts?
Jane wondered how she would feel if their places were reversed. She flushed as she added crème and sugar to Lady Margret’s tea before settling opposite her with her own cup. Jane thought she would want to tear the lady’s hair out. She smiled benignly.
Lady Margret looked at her, face flushed and angry. By all rights, as one who was soon to be lady of this house, Lady Margret should have been the one to pour the tea. Such actions were usually left to the one who was considered the hostess. As the home was Lord Keegain’s, and would soon be hers, the duty fell to Margret, or at least, it would soon.
In fact, upon consideration, Jane thought, Lady Margret might even consider that Jane was stealing the right of hostess, which would be the case were she trying to steal Lord Keegain from her. Was she? For a moment Jane wondered. She had acted without thinking, doing what felt natural.
“I did not mean…”
“Then what did you mean, Miss Bellevue?” Lady Margret asked, looking significantly at the cup in her hand.
The other ladies chose that moment to return, hair tidied, several having changed their dresses. They came in chattering, Lady Amelia and Lady Patience coming first through the door. Never had Jane been more pleased to see her friends.
“Oh, do come in,” Lady Margret called as the group entered. “Miss Bellevue has been regaling me with stories of what it is to be common. It is quite entertaining to speak to someone who is set so far lower than one’s station, is it not? One gains such a unique viewpoint.”
Jane seethed. A teacup in her lap was too good for her. Lady Margret deserved the entire pot, over her head. Indeed, Jane had expected scathing. This was far beyond that. She looked up at the staring faces. Lady Helen and Lady Alice appeared uncertain. Lady Charlotte glanced her way with what could only be sympathy.
Several of the other ladies seemed to have difficulty in meeting her eyes. In that instant, Jane knew it had been a mistake to come here. She had thought that she would be welcome on the strength of her association with Lady Charlotte, but in truth she was an oddity who never quite fit in.
Lady Margret’s voice cut through her thoughts. “I am sorry, dear, but I wonder if perhaps it might be best if you lie down before it is time to prepare for the ball. You look rather pale. We would hate to have you miss the festivities.” It was clear that what Lady Margret wanted most of all was for Jane to miss the festivities.
The message was clear. She could either leave now, or leave later. Either way Lady Margret would have her way.
Jane surprised herself by wanting to stay. I am not missing that ball. I have come here with a clear purpose. Tonight, with a mask on, I can become anyone at all. I can win the heart of a stranger, a man of means and title both. I can do whatever I wish, but I cannot do anything unless I yield here, now. She would yield, but she would not let Margret take this night from her.
Jane set her cup and saucer carefully on the table next to her. “It is, as you say, Lady Margret. It would be best if I perha
ps spent some time resting before tonight. I would not miss the ball for anything. Ladies,” she paused to curtsey to the gathering. “I hope you enjoy your tea.”
Jane walked to the door with what she hoped was stately poise. She would not let them see how bothered she was by Margret’s acid. She would not be ruffled, only inside, she was upset.
She brushed past the gentlemen who were just coming to join the others in their tea. The earl was with them. She would find him in any crowd, she supposed, given the way her senses came alert whenever he was near. Perhaps she drew a measure of strength from him as she passed, for somehow she managed to make it all the way to her room without bursting into tears.
24
Lord Keegain and the gentlemen came to attend the ladies after their walk about and tea. For their part, the ladies seemed to have pulled the miracle for which their sex was known and presented themselves once again clean and coiffed as they filed into the room. Lord Keegain smiled at their flexibility and waited to cross the hall until they were all safely ensconced. As he walked past the open door, he heard Lady Margret speaking.
“Miss Bellevue has been regaling me with stories of what it is to be common. It is quite entertaining to speak to someone who is set so far lower than one’s station, is it not? One gains such a unique viewpoint.”
Keegain felt suddenly ill, though it was difficult to discern between nausea and rage.
I will not break my word.
It seemed such a hollow sentiment.
He let his anger simmer while the ladies finished their tea, his ire growing all the more for being contained. When he saw that the ladies were finished, he suggested they retire to the sitting room together where a fire had been built up against the chill.
Twittering, the ladies filed out, but he signaled Margret to him catching her before she could follow. “A word,” he said simply.
She looked up at him with her blandly beautiful face as if she could not imagine what would be wrong. He gave Reynolds a pointed look and the man stepped away from them.
Winning Lady Jane: A Christmas Regency Romance (Ladies of Bath Book 0) Page 14
