Joan Wolf (8 page)

Consequently, there was very little change in the staff at Heathfield. Jane was usually surrounded with familiar faces there, a state of affairs that was necessary to her serenity. She was only truly comfortable with people she knew and, aside from David, the person she knew best in the world was the Marquis. Jane, who could be so incredibly oblivious to most of the human race, was quite sensitive to the feelings of those few people who mattered to her. She knew it was important to the Marquis that she like Anne. She knew it was important to him that the wedding plans should go smoothly. She knew also that he did not love Anne; her assessment of the marriage that had so shocked David had been, in fact, quite accurate. She knew, finally, that the Marquis did love her, and with the loyalty that so endeared her to the household, she grimly determined to do everything in her power to help him through one of the most important events in his life.

So when he told her that Lady Bellerman had invited her to remain at Bellerman Hall for the month's duration of his honeymoon, she had not flared up at him.

"That is very nice of her, Uncle Edward,” she had said politely, “but I would rather come back here."

He sighed. “I know you would, Jane. But Lady Bellerman is quite adamant that it would not be proper for you to remain here by yourself with only the servants."

Jane's eyes flashed white lightning. “Not proper? What does she mean?"

The Marquis looked at her soberly. “Jane, my dear, listen to me. You are a young lady now. You are not a child anymore. There are many things that are acceptable for a child that are not acceptable for a young lady. Besides,” he hurried on as he saw her mouth begin to open, “it's only for a month. Just until Anne and I get back from our honeymoon. Then we will all come back to Heathfield for Christmas."

The worried look in his eyes was not lost on Jane. Her lips compressed. “Very well, Uncle Edward,” she said finally. “I will stay at Bellerman Hall for November."

He looked at her for a moment and his eyes were suddenly warm with affection. “You're a good girl, brat,” he said. “I appreciate it."

The Marquis was in fact worried about Jane's staying at Heathfield without him, but not for the reasons of propriety put forward by Lady Bellerman. He was worried about David.

Jane's friendship with David was of such long duration that the Marquis regarded it as perfectly natural and acceptable, as did everyone else connected with Heathfield. If he had been questioned, he would have unhesitatingly said they were like brother and sister; it had simply never occurred to him that the friendship between those two children could ever flare up into something infinitely more powerful than the uncomplicated comradeship they had shared for years.

However, he was beginning to wonder if he had been guilty of a grave misjudgment. The first jolt to his complacency had come when the Bellerman family arrived at Heathfield for a visit in September. Lord Rayleigh's cousin, Lady Carrington, was kind enough to act as official hostess since Jane was still too young for such an onerous responsibility. Lady Carrington engaged to take care of the older members of the party; Jane's job was to see to the entertainment of Anne and her brother John. Since Jane's idea of entertaining someone was to put them on a horse, they spent a lot of time in the saddle and at the stables. And, naturally, they saw quite a bit of David.

One evening after dinner the Marquis had taken Anne for a stroll in the garden and she broached a subject that was clearly troubling her. “If you don't mind my asking, my lord,” she said in her soft voice, “just who is David Chance?"

He looked at her, a trifle puzzled. “David? My trainer, you mean?"

"Yes.” Anne hesitated. “He is not exactly what one expects in a groom, is he? He speaks like a gentleman. He looks like a gentleman, too."

The Marquis frowned. “He is a gentleman,” he said somewhat shortly. “His parents were respectable French people who had the misfortune to fall foul of the revolution. His aunt got him out of the country, but they lost most of their money. He was educated with Jane. He works for me because he needs to earn a living and because he is a genius with horses."

"I don't mean to anger you, my lord,” Anne said gently. “I'm sure he is a fine boy. I just wonder if it is wise to allow Jane to spend so much time with him."

Lord Rayleigh shrugged slightly. “My dear Anne, Jane and David have been inseparable since they were children. They are extremely attached to one another. I can hardly tell her that it is not proper for her to spend time with her best friend."

"I might perhaps hint,” she began diffidently, but the Marquis cut her off with a shout of laughter.

"I beg your pardon, Anne,” he said when he had recovered himself. “But the thought of hinting to Jane.... “Amusement trembled in his voice again. “Tact and indirection will never work with Jane,” he said finally, and his eyes now were sober. “Your comments would either pass completely over her head or she would catch you up and demand to know what you were talking about. She has many faults, but there are two things about her you can always count on: her honesty and her loyalty."

Anne felt snubbed. “I'm sorry if I have offended you, my lord,” she said stiffly.

"You haven't offended me,” he answered, “but you would offend Jane it you tried to tell her that it was not socially acceptable for her to see David."

"I
wasn't worried about the social acceptability,” she said defensively, conscious of the need to justify herself.

He stopped dead and looked at her impatiently. “Then what
are
you worried about, Anne?"

She looked at him straightly. If he admired honesty, he should have it. “You want me to find Jane a husband, my lord, or so you have said."

"Yes?"

"Well, that might prove rather difficult when her dearest friend just happens to be the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my life. If Jane starts to compare her prospective suitors to David, we might find ourselves in the middle of a very unpleasant situation."

He continued to stare at her, but now there was a definite frown between his black brows. “Nonsense, Anne,” he said finally. “He's been a big brother to her, that's all."

She drew her shawl more closely around her shoulders. “Perhaps you are right, my lord. After all, you know her much better than I do. It is getting a trifle chilly; shall we go in and join the others?"

He agreed with instant solicitude and escorted her back through the open French windows. She had done her duty, Anne thought to herself. She personally thought the Jane-David relationship was extremely dangerous, but she was not going to raise the subject anymore. She would not again make the mistake of seeming to criticize Jane.

Anne had been more effective than she realized. Lord Rayleigh was so much in the habit of regarding Jane and David as children that he had tended to ignore all evidence to the contrary. And there was a great deal of evidence to the contrary, he realized as he began to think about it. The Marquis had heard rumors about Laura Rivingdale.

He began to watch Jane and David with a careful eye, and the day before the Bellermans were due to leave for Bedfordshire he organized an expedition into Bury St. Edmunds to see the famous abbey where the English barons had gathered to swear they would force King John to give his assent to the Magna Carta. As the weather was warm and sunny, they decided to forego lunch at an inn and to take a picnic with them. The party was to consist of Anne and John Bellerman, Lord Rayleigh, and Jane, all of whom were riding. At the last minute the Marquis decided he wanted the picnic lunch to be brought in the phaeton. He asked David to drive.

The day started well. John Bellerman kept his horse close to Jane's the whole way to Bury St. Edmunds. To the secret delight of the whole Heathfield staff, Anne's eldest brother was obviously smitten by Lady Jane. He followed her around constantly, an expression in his eyes that reminded David of a puppy dog he had once owned. Jane was nice to him in an absent-minded kind of way. She made polite conversation to him now, even though she would have infinitely preferred to be riding behind with David.

The Marquis watched her surreptitiously. Her obvious indifference worried him. It was not natural for a girl her age to be so immune to the charms of a handsome, personable, twenty-five-year-old man who obviously adored her.

They dutifully toured the abbey and stopped about halfway back to Heathfield to have their picnic. David found them a pleasant glade and began to unload the phaeton as the others dismounted. The Marquis watched as John Bellerman eagerly rushed to assist Jane to alight from her sidesaddle. There was a suspicious quiver about Jane's narrow, faultless nostrils as she allowed herself to be lifted to the ground. Wordlessly her eyes flew to David, inviting him to share her amusement at Mr. Bellerman's unnecessary solicitude. There was a faintly ironic look in David's amber eyes as they met hers briefly, then they both looked away, their faces identical masks of politeness.

With a deep frown between his brows the Marquis helped Anne to dismount and moved forward to take charge of the picnic. After they had all eaten, Jane suggested that Lord Rayleigh take Anne and Mr. Bellerman to see a particularly fine view that was about ten minutes’ walk from where they were.

"You must come too, Lady Jane,” John Bellerman urged.

She shook her head. “I want to stay here with David,” she said bluntly.

"Then I shall remain also,” he responded, moving toward where she was sitting on a rug.

Jane's eyes flashed blue sparks. “I am not going to run away, Mr. Bellerman,” she said, temper in the crisp tones of her voice. “Go with Uncle Edward and your sister. You can see me when you return."

Lord Rayleigh looked at his niece. “Come along, John,” he said genially. “Jane needs a rest."

Unwilling, but unable to refuse, Mr. Bellerman trailed sadly off after Lord Rayleigh and Anne. “Honestly!” Jane exploded when they were out of earshot. “He is driving me mad."

David just laughed. He dropped down beside her and stretched his length comfortably on the rug, leaning up on one elbow. He reached for a stalk of grass and began absently to chew it. A lock of sun-bright hair had fallen forward, half hiding his face. “How's the picture coming?” he asked.

Jane was painting a picture of Heathfield to give to Lord Rayleigh as a wedding present. It was a secret; only David knew about it. With a comfortable sigh she wrapped her arms around her updrawn knees and preceded to tell him about it.

The Marquis and his party were back much too quickly, she thought impatiently as she heard the sound of voices coming nearer. She shot a look at David from under her lashes and swore. He did not reply but, nearly imperceptibly, he smiled at her.

Lord Rayleigh had taken Mr. Bellerman with him because he recognized in Jane's face and voice the signs of an impending explosion. However, he had no intention of staying away for any length of time and, as his feelings were shared by both brother and sister, they soon retraced their steps to the glade. Anne and her brother went first and Lord Rayleigh kept his eyes on Mr. Bellerman as they returned. He was handsome, well-born, and well-mannered, the sort of eligible man most young girls dreamed about.

What was the matter with Jane, her uncle thought. He was beginning to be afraid that Anne had been right about David.

As they came into the clearing David rose to his feet, holding a hand out to Jane with the ease of long familiarity. To the Marquis's newly opened eyes the unspoken intimacy that ran between the girl and boy was startlingly apparent. It had taken Anne, an outsider, to see what had eluded everyone else. He had wanted David to join their outing so that Jane could contrast John Bellerman, socially acceptable and socially adept, to David, whose role today had resembled that of a servant.

But Anne had been right; David was too clearly a gentleman for him ever to appear as anything else. And, as he watched David's tall figure effortlessly packing the phaeton, the Marquis thought somewhat grimly that Anne had been right about something else. It was now quite clear to him why Jane was so maddeningly indifferent to young Mr. Bellerman. To someone who was used to looking at David, John Bellerman was very insignificant indeed.

[Back to Table of Contents]

And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers’ brains, and then they dream of love....

—William Shakespeare

The Bellermans left Heathfield to return to Bedfordshire to prepare for the wedding. On the surface the household at Heathfield returned to its normal serenity, but beneath the surface there were hidden currents of stress.

David was finding it increasingly difficult to act naturally with Jane. Anne had mentioned to him that she planned to take Jane to London for the coming Season, and David knew what that meant. He had listened to too much gossip at race meets not to know that girls went to London to find husbands. Jane, he was quite sure, had no idea of getting married, but her uncle evidently was thinking ahead.

David knew, in his bones, that Jane would be miserable married to anyone but himself. But they would never let her marry him. Nor was she ready to talk about marriage; she was still too much a child.

Since there was nothing he could honorably say to her, David said nothing. But he agonized that she would allow herself to be married off without realizing the implications of what marriage meant. And the thought of a future without her appalled him: a vista of empty, meaningless years stretching away in an endless road to nowhere.

Jane knew there was something bothering David, but she could not get out of him what it was. He would catch her looking at him with a worried, puzzled frown between her brows that made him want to grab her in his arms and kiss it away. She jokingly mentioned John Bellerman a few times; obviously she thought his devotion was ridiculous. It clearly had never occurred to her that young men
did
feel that way about young women and there would be many more men who would feel that way about herself. David found her denseness alternatingly endearing and exasperating. After all, he kept telling himself, she wouldn't be seventeen until next month.