Just Jane (7 page)

Robert pointed to a pair of large birds soaring in the luminous sky. “Eagles. The swamp is their home, and the alligators' as well. This land belonged to the wild creatures long before it was ours, Jane. We are the interlopers here.” He drew a long sigh. “Clarissa mocks me, calling this my kingdom and all that. She doesn't love it the way I do. That's because it reminds her of the one great sadness that has darkened our lives. Our little daughter was taken by the fever in her infancy, years ago.”

“Yes, Aunt Harriet told me about that. I'm so sorry, Uncle Robert.”

“But now that you're here, Jane—” His wistful smile touched her heart. “Perhaps you'll be the daughter we always dreamed of having.” Now, at last, he embraced her tenderly. “Welcome, my dear. Welcome home.”

 

As the long midsummer days passed, Jane settled comfortably into her new life at Rosewall. The only difficulty was that she missed the lively city of Charlestown, missed the Ainsleys and their charming home—and, most of all, missed Mr. Cordwyn. But she could not forget what she had learned about him and Clarissa, and she made a solemn vow never to speak to or even think of him again. Meanwhile, Brandon visited occasionally, providing a welcome diversion, even though he spent most of his time talking to Robert—pardy about “the troubles,” and partly about his favorite topic, horses and racing. Playing the beautiful German harpsichord in the parlor was another pleasant diversion, as was strolling in the garden among the many-scented flowers.

Mrs. Morley kept insisting to Jane that she disliked living “out in the wilderness,” as she called it. But she got along well with both master and mistress, and though finding Omar a little frightening, she formed an easy relationship with the cheerful Cuba. Soon Mrs. Morley found ways to keep busy: mending clothes, darning socks, and doing other useful chores.

Despite Clarissa's observation that Omar and Cuba ran the place, the true ruler was clearly Clarissa herself. She fulfilled her many duties with confident efficiency. Jane was glad for the chance to learn from her, and Clarissa instructed her patiently. But their long hours together produced no real bond between them. And, sadly, it seemed to Jane that her aunt took no pleasure in the privileged life she led—with one exception: She genuinely loved the garden. The cool early mornings nearly always found her out surveying the flower beds, directing her several gardeners to clip a wayward camellia branch here, or pluck away faded azalea blossoms there. A large corner of the garden Clarissa reserved for her dozens of imported rosebushes, and these she tended herself. She allowed Jane to help her, dressed in an old frock and a too-big sun hat that Clarissa no longer used.

One morning, gazing up at the wall looming above them as they worked, Clarissa fell into a somber mood. “When all is said and done, it really is rather like a prison here, don't you think?” She smiled at Jane's shocked look. “Don't worry. In a few years you'll marry and leave here, while I . . .” She shrugged and went on working.

Jane stepped closer. “Rosewall is your home, Aunt Clarissa, not a prison. Your husband seems a fine man, and I'm sure he loves you dearly.”

“It's true, I am one of two things Robert loves best in the world. The first is Rosewall, and I'm definitely second. Notice I said
thing
—a lovely ornament at Rosewall. And now you are one, too.”

“It seems to me that you're much more than an ornament here,” Jane said as they worked. “I've watched you. You're busy all day long, attending to a thousand details. I only hope I can be of some help to you.”

“Of course you will,” Clarissa said. “And in a few years, there'll be a fine wedding here. You'll become the wife of some carefully selected son of a good Carolina family and go live in a big house of your own.”

“Carefully selected?” Jane echoed. “You mean by Uncle Robert?”

“Well, not literally, I suppose. But he'll expect you to be guided by his judgment. You
are
his ward, after all.”

“Only until I'm twenty-one.”

“But surely you'll be married by then.”

“Perhaps not. Perhaps I won't make any important choices in life until after I'm twenty-one. Then I can make my own, using my own judgment.”

Clarissa paused in her work to stare at her young assistant. “I must say, Jane, that refined English-lady manner of yours is quite deceiving. You've got a lot more grit in you than I thought.”

Not sure whether she had just received a compliment or a scolding, Jane let this pass without comment.

 

The next morning, Clarissa unexpectedly announced that she was going into Charlestown. “Someone must see to our house repairs,” she told Robert, “and you're needed here more than I am.”

Jane asked if she could come along. “I'd so like to see Aunt Harriet and Uncle Arthur again.”

But Clarissa shook her head. “I'm sorry, dear, not this time. For a few days,
you
must be mistress of Rosewall.”

Omar swung open the iron gate for her carriage, and Clarissa, in her best finery, was on her way. Jane watched glumly, afraid the trip had less to do with house repairs than with a lonely woman flying to her lover's arms.
Is she unfaithful to Uncle Robert because she feels no love in their marriage?

Robert, standing beside her on the veranda, looked fondly and longingly after the departing carriage. “She's my treasure, Jane. I'd be lost without her. I'm a lucky man.”

Jane nodded. So much for the theory that Clarissa was unloved by her husband. “Yes, Uncle Robert. And she's a lucky lady.”

If only she had the good sense to realize it
.

Gloom descended over Robert in Clarissa's absence. His duties took him away from the house for hours each day, but when he was at home, he roamed the house restlessly.
He really is lost without her
, Jane thought.

But at the same time, she was pleased to notice a real friendship developing between Robert and Mrs. Morley. More precisely, the warm relationship that had existed between them when Robert was a boy began to grow again. In the evenings while Clarissa was away, Robert, Mrs. Morley, and Jane sat together in the parlor, sipping sassafras tea and talking. Robert asked if Mrs. Morley was comfortable at Rosewall. Was her room satisfactory? She replied that her airy, second-floor room right next to Jane's, with its nice view of the garden, was perfect, thank you, sir. Tactfully, she refrained from mentioning the complaint she often voiced to Jane, about living “out here in the wilderness.” Mostly Jane listened as the other two reminisced about old times in England, long before she was bom, occasionally chuckling at stories of Robert's boyhood pranks with his brother, Jane's father.

“You know, Mr. Robert's really a kind soul,” Mrs. Morley told the girl later. “You were very lucky when he consented to become your guardian.”

“Indeed I was, Mrs. Morley.” Jane readily agreed, happy that her old companion was starting to settle in. But Robert's own discontent was past helping until Clarissa's return. Fortunately, in a few days she was back—and his gloom lifted.

“I bring news,” she began. They were seating themselves in the parlor while Cuba brought refreshments. “First, the house will be ready very soon.”

Robert nodded, pleased. “That's excellent.”

“Second—and you won't like this, Robert—the whole city's talking about the Continental Congress in Philadelphia. It's rumored they're about to adopt a resolution by Mr. Thomas Jefferson of Virginia—”

“Stop right there,” Robert growled. “I know about Jefferson. He's a dangerous lunatic. I'll hear no more of him. What else?”

“Well, I'm sure there's nothing to that, anyway. Third, I've invited a few people for the weekend. It's so dull here. I thought, at least for Jane's sake, we should have some friends in.”

“You might've asked me first,” Robert grumbled.

“And you'd have raised all sorts of objections, as usual. It's just the Dunnings, the Lamberts, and Arthur and family. They'll come on Saturday, and we'll have a grand feast.” Clarissa glanced apologetically at Cuba. “Sorry to announce this so suddenly, Cuba.”

“Oh, no trouble, missus!” Cuba flashed her ever-ready smile. “Saturday two days away. Plenty time.”

“You invited Arthur here?” Robert asked, glowering at Clarissa.

“He
is
my brother, Robert! Can't you try to get along just for a day or two? Arthur's willing. Is it too much to ask?”

“I hope Brandon's coming, too?”

“Indeed, he's longing to see Jane again. He's quite taken with you, dear. Fancies himself becoming your husband one day.”

“And you could hardly do better, Jane,” Robert put in. “He's a young man of fine character, and his loyalty to the Crown is beyond question. Which, unfortunately, is more than can be said of his father.”

Clarissa gave him a sharp look. “That was uncalled for, Robert.”

The conversation had taken a turn that made Jane uncomfortable, and she was glad when Robert excused himself and went out a moment later.

“Now tell me, dear,” Clarissa asked her, “what have you been doing?”

“I finished trimming the roses in the east bed, and started on the south side,” Jane replied. “I hope you'll be pleased.”

“I'm sure I will.”

“About Saturday, Aunt Clarissa—who are the guests you've invited?”

Clarissa explained that Morton and Penelope Dunning were old friends with a fifteen-year-old daughter, Lucinda. Morton had been a merchant in Charlestown whose business, like Arthur's, had suffered severely from the British blockade. Unlike Arthur, he had given up his store in the city and removed to a smaller town only a few hours' ride from Rosewall. Brothers Louis and Jacques Lambert were co-owners of a nearby plantation. The younger brother, Jacques, she described as an outrageous flirt, in contrast to the dignified, sober Louis.

“They're of French descent,” Clarissa said. “And Jacques thinks he must flirt with every woman he meets. No doubt you'll get your share of his attentions. But he's really quite harmless.”

“I'm sure it won't be a problem,” Jane remarked. “But I wonder—would it have been out of the question to invite Cousin Hugh and his wife?”

“Good heavens, yes! Robert will have a hard enough time being civil to Arthur, but Hugh—don't even think of it!”

“And I don't suppose . . .” Jane hesitated, a mischievous thought forming in her mind. “Could one have invited Mr. Cordwyn?”

This time Clarissa's response was even more emphatic. “I should say not! What could you be thinking—he's not our sort at all!”

“Isn't he?”

Clarissa slapped the arm of her chair angrily. “Look here, I disagree with Robert on many things, but he was absolutely right about your spending time with that low-class adventurer! Believe me, Simon Cordwyn's not worth five minutes of your time—or anyone else's!”

Before the surprised Jane could say a word, Clarissa was heading for the door. “Excuse me, I really must rest now. It was beastly hot on the road.”

She doesn't want to see him? How interesting
, Jane thought, mentally kicking herself for mentioning the very person she had vowed to forget.

 

Friday was spent in bustling preparations. It was now early August, and Robert complained that the terrible heat made this the worst possible time for entertaining. Busy planning the menu with Cuba one minute and arranging flowers with Jane the next, Clarissa paid no attention to his grumblings.

Luckily, Saturday turned out to be unseasonably cool. With that good omen, it remained only to set the huge dining room table with glittering crystal and fine china. Watching Clarissa direct this operation, Jane ran her fingers across the gleaming mahogany tabletop as it disappeared beneath an elegant damask tablecloth.

“What a beautiful table, Aunt Clarissa. Is it Cousin Hugh's work?”

“Shhh,”
Clarissa whispered. “Don't let Robert hear you. Yes, it was a wedding present from Hugh, years ago. When those two fell out it was all I could do to keep Robert from chopping this table up for firewood.”

Jane gave silent thanks that Clarissa's cool, sensible views sometimes prevailed over Robert's temper.

Finally, all was ready. The Lamberts were first to arrive. Louis was a heavyset man of courtly manners and few words. His wife, Alice, was a buxom, pink-cheeked, chatty woman. Louis's bachelor brother, Jacques, was lean and handsome, his dark eyes glinting in constant amusement. When introduced to Jane, he promptly lived up to his reputation as an outrageous flirt.

“Ah, mademoiselle!” He clasped her hands as if entranced. “What a ravishing beauty you'll be! I always thought one day I'd entice your enchanting aunt Clarissa to run away with me. But perhaps I shall wait a few years and entice you, instead.”

Jane smiled at how quickly he proved the emptiness of his words by turning his flirtations on Clarissa, despite disapproving frowns from Robert.

When the Dunnings arrived, the smiling Morton, fully as handsome as Jacques Lambert, soon became his rival for Clarissa's attentions, while pale, sickly looking Penelope Dunning tried not to notice. Their daughter, Lucinda, tall and reddish blond, with her father's good looks, was introduced to Jane with Clarissa's prediction that they would become fast friends. Jane saw immediately that this would not happen, as Lucinda's only interest was what time Brandon Ainsley would arrive.
Ah
, Jane smiled to herself.
It seems that I, too, have a rival
.

The Ainsleys, who had stayed overnight in a small country inn midway between Charlestown and Rosewall, arrived around noon, accompanied by Brandon, who cut a dashing figure alongside their carriage on his prancing Princess. Lucinda rushed to greet him, while Jane and Clarissa welcomed Arthur and Harriet as they emerged from the carriage. Robert waited on the veranda, and Jane watched anxiously as Arthur walked up the steps. Clarissa was watching, too, and Jane saw her fleeting smile of relief as the two men shook hands, exchanging pleasant words of greeting. All would be well.