A Secret Passion (31 page)

Jane took the small but significant step of instructing her maid to begin packing her things. With a smile, she left her chamber, thinking she really could qualify for a traveling player, given her extensive “here and thereian” habits of late. She entered the small salon content with new resolve.

She was glad to see Clarissa already there, dressed in a lovely soft blue gown that matched her eyes, a gift forwarded to her from her besotted bridegroom, no doubt! Her aunt’s attention was focused on a letter as Jane continued toward her. The small measure of comfort she had taken in her resolution left upon spying Clarissa’s troubled expression.

“Whatever is it?” Jane asked as she closed the door.

“It seems we are to be detained from leaving. My brother has discovered your whereabouts from Reverend Thompson. I believe his conscience provided only a very small part of the impetus necessary for revealing our little secret. My guess is the reverend truly is anxious about losing the living or, at the very least, a recommendation.”

“We must leave at once, then.”

“No. There is more. There was a missive for you within my letter.” She handed it to Jane, who sank into the small yellow brocade chair next to the empty fireplace. A dark foreboding made the hairs on her neck prickle as she began reading the letter.

Jane,

I am most displeased with your behavior, as well you can imagine. The latest evidence of your vile perversity has exceeded all prior incidences of willful disobedience on your part. I am most heartily ashamed of you. However, that shall be dealt with when I see you.

I absolutely forbid you to leave Pembroke. Girl, your impetuous manner has caused me all sorts of trials and tribulations, and you at least owe me the courtesy of an interview. I shall ride down to Cornwall on the morrow to discuss your future. Should you dare to depart sans leave-taking this time, I shall horsewhip out of your hide the contrariness you display so righteously, should I find you. Dare not provoke me further, Daughter. We have much to discuss, some of which will make you think twice about choosing an alternative course with your ninny-hammered aunt.

—Yours, &c.

Jane squeezed her eyes shut and placed her hand on her face, deep in thought. Her first impulse was to leave without delay. But really, what did she have to fear? He wanted to talk to her and likely shower recriminations on her. But she had naught to fear, as George would be near enough to intervene should events get out of hand. And she had much to gain. She could bid good-bye to her father, who had brought more pain than pleasure to her life. And she could try and uncover any remaining ghosts and lies from her parents’ past. All in all, it was better for her to confront him than to flee like a coward.

Jane lowered the letter. “I think I had better stay—although you must not feel as if you ought to stay with me. You must want to see Sir Thomas very much. And I shall very likely tread upon your heels shortly after your departure.”

“No, Jane. I will not leave you alone to face the wrath of my brother. We shall pack our trunks and be ready to leave on an instant’s notice should he turn ugly. After you speak with him, we shall not spend another night under his roof.”

Jane thought for a moment and sighed. “Very well. I will not belabor the point, as I am too selfish by half. I will take comfort knowing you are here to bolster my courage.”

“Jane, you have more courage than any other female I know. Come, let us go in to dinner now. I daresay we need to fortify ourselves for the next few days that face us.”

Jane forced herself to consume the meal. Her appetite had been failing her over the course of the last few months, given the strain. She knew George had been contriving for Cook to prepare Jane’s favorite meals. She smiled grimly and thought that at least for tonight she would endeavor to bring him a small degree of joy by doggedly consuming the feast before her.

After checking on the condition of three broodmares, and discussing with George possible candidates for the newly vacant head groom position, Jane rode one of her favorite young horses past the fields that separated Pembroke from the manse. She urged her mount into a canter and soared over a stile near the dairy. A sense of exhilaration assailed her as she moved into a gallop and jumped a stone wall followed by a simple post and rail in quick succession. She brought the horse down to a walk as she patted its neck.

Oh, it would be quite, quite difficult to leave this all behind with so little to look forward to. The last time it had been different. She had been planning a life with a husband whose very nature had promised fun and adventure, albeit with more than a modicum of poverty. Now she tried, with little success, to see a silver lining to her future.

And how was he feeling
?
And thinking
? Without a doubt, he did not think of her at all. With his military background and orderly mind, he had put her from his thoughts and was glad to be rid of the acquaintance. His mind was likely occupied with the vast affairs of his holdings, certainly not with a woman who had refused him and humiliated him on numerous occasions.

She had lost the secret hope she had nursed in the smallest corner of her heart when she had received a letter from Frederick mentioning not a word of his brother. He related to her only his joy in his reconciliation with his wife, as well as his wish for Jane’s happiness. Every empty line screamed that the elder brother had forgotten her.

Peals of laughter rang in Jane’s ears as she rounded the corner of the manse. The tired maid-of-all-work took the reins of Jane’s horse and muttered her greeting. Five or six of the Thompsons, and the ever present petulant houseguest, Miss Dodderidge, poured through the front door at an alarming rate.

“Jane, Jane, come, you simply must join us!” Harry shouted.

“To where, dare I ask?”

“We’re off to go fishing. The ladies refused to let William and me go off alone. And now they have had the audacity to make a wager that they will catch more than us. A boastful bunch, to be sure, when at least one of them has never fished in all her life!” he said while eyeing the coy Miss Dodderidge.

“How can you expect us to sit with our embroidery on a beautiful autumn day like today?” Miss Dodderidge responded.

“Will you join us, Jane? It will be like the old days.”

“No, no. I must go back and work some of the other horses today.” Jane lowered her voice, as the others had moved a few steps away and were sorting through the tackle in the shed-house. “Harry, I came to warn you that my father is expected in two or three days’ time. You should consider making yourself scarce, as he is like to do you harm!”

“Hmmm. Yes, well. As I told you before, we do not need to avoid him any longer. The Honorable Frederick St. James, that is, our good friend Freddie, put his offer into writing in a letter I had from him yesterday. He promised the living at Seaton to my father should yours cut up nasty. So I shall not run away, as we are having far too much fun here. I leave soon enough for the post at university, really, in less than a week. And you? When do you leave with your aunt?”

“Soon, very soon,” she said. “As soon as I make one appearance before my father.”

“Jane, you can’t be serious! Shall I be at your side when he comes? I fear for your safety, Duck.”

“No. I have Saint George, who will be standing by to slay the dragon if need be!” Jane whispered the last as Miss Dodderidge appeared behind Harry’s shoulder.

“Slaying dragons? I say, Harry, would you do that for me should the need arise?” inquired Miss Dodderidge with cloying sweetness.

Harry took her arm through his and patted her hand. “My dear, you know I am your most ardent admirer and protector. Know that I would save you from all the wild beasts, great and small, to be found in Cornwall’s formidable wilderness.”

Jane rolled her eyes as Harry grinned. Honestly, how he could stand being in the presence of such a determined flirt she would never know. And when had they discarded formality in favor of their Christian names? Harry shrugged when Jane’s eyes met his.

Chapter Fifteen

LORD Fairchild was in no mood to see anyone the day of his arrival at Pembroke. His bones felt jarred from their very joints, given the dry, rutted roads of September. Head pounding, he descended from his plain carriage and waved away the addresses of the servants. He went straight to his library and poured himself a large brandy to wash away the dirt of the roads. He sank into the brown leather chair and cursed at the piles of papers stacked neatly on the nearby desk, no doubt by his redoubtable daughter or that infernal George. How he hated the country, the dirt, the quiet, and the wretched loneliness of it all. It infuriated him to be back just when he had been settling into the hustle-bustle of town. He adored London. Mornings at White’s, afternoons spent plotting advances for the reopening of Parliament, evenings at salons full of important personages, and after midnight, everything imaginable for the male palate. It was glorious. It was what he craved. Looking at his dusty boots and creased clothes, he frowned in disgust and rang for a hip bath to be brought to his chambers. He finished the brandy with one long last swallow and hoped that his head would stop aching after a short repose. He was not up to facing Jane yet or, for that matter, his own sister. Females were the bane of his existence. He rubbed his eyes before striding out of the library toward the sanctity of his rooms above.

All in all, he felt a good deal better the following morning, although the early air was never something he coveted. It seemed the household had avoided him at all costs. Both ladies were absent from the breakfast room. So he toasted himself and settled into his ham and eggs with a good deal more relish than the last evening’s supper.

“Excuse me, my lord, Miss Jane has requested I inform you she awaits your lordship’s presence in the front salon, at your leisure,” George said upon entering. The butler bowed and exited as Fairchild acknowledged his words with a slight nod and a wave of his hand. Looking down at his plate, Edward Fairchild thought his breakfast had lost most of its appeal now. He took one last bite, and with a grimace rose to face his task.

Jane paced the room, and then stamped her foot in annoyance, angry with herself for her sense of agitation. She had resolved on remaining calm in the face of the storm. She would not let him take the upper hand. And if he rang a peal over her head, she would insist he desist. Failing that, she would leave. Jane also took comfort in knowing Clarissa and George were in the next room, their chairs drawn close to the door that joined the rooms. She started at the sound of the door opening.

“Good morning, Jane,” Lord Fairchild said with coolness.

“Good morning.”

“I trust you are well?” he inquired, as a formality.

“Yes, quite. You left my brother in good spirits, too, I hope?” she responded. Her father nodded his assent, and Jane shivered as she anticipated the end of the trivialities.

“Yes, well. I am sure you have surmised the reason of my return to the bowels of Cornwall, a place whose appeal is lost on me.”

“Unless it is to banish me again from my birthright, you are wrong, sir, I cannot fathom why you would wish to see me,” she said, lifting her chin. “Have no doubt that my trunks are packed, along with my aunt’s. We are prepared to depart on a moment’s notice. We shan’t depend on your charity any longer.”

“You are incorrect in your assumptions and are taking great delight in displaying your newly acquired contemptuousness.”

“This will not do. I shall not listen to your insults. If you have something of consequence to say to me, say it. Otherwise, I will leave at once,” Jane replied quietly.

With a pause and a long sigh, her father seemed to try and rein in his temper. “Not so hasty, my dear. As I said in my letter, I have something of importance to relate to you. I understand your ill ease, as the letter I sent to you was written in a great fury. Since then, I have had time to resolve myself to your impetuous actions of late regarding Mr. Harry Thompson and Lord Graystock. And while I could dearly wish that you had allied our family name with the earl’s, I have come to believe that the present resolution will at least bring a measure of peace to our family. And I can at least be glad that you did not marry that noddy parson’s son, Harry Thompson!”