Ruined (7 page)

‘You are very good,’ Jessie responded. Her words were received with a gracious inclination of the head. A little later, she found the courage to say, ‘I understand from Henry that you are working on putting together a collection of your husband’s sermons. That must be very satisfying work.’

‘Yes … yes indeed it is,’ replied Mrs Machin, sounding a little
self-conscious
. ‘Although his handwriting is rather difficult to decipher, so I find that I cannot do too much at any one time.’

‘And you have your own writing to absorb you,’ Jessie pointed out.

‘What?’ cried the other lady in an alarmed tone.

‘Your tracts on various moral issues.’

‘Oh! Oh, yes, of course,’ replied Mrs Machin with a sigh. ‘Yes, I do need to work on those, and when I do, I must be alone – quite alone. I hope you do not mind?’

‘Not at all,’ answered Jessie cheerfully, reluctant to damage this new, if fragile accord. ‘You will find that I am very well capable of occupying myself.’

Chapter Six

J
essie had spoken the truth when she had told Mrs Machin that she did not mind being left to her own devices. Although she was Lady Agatha Rayner’s companion, her ladyship needed her
presence
for propriety, and not because she expected to be entertained. In fact, Lady Agatha was often busy with her own correspondence and Jessie was quite accustomed to taking herself off to do a little parish visiting, or simply to take a walk around the village,
sometimes
carrying her sketch-pad with her. She had not inherited her father’s artistic gifts, but several people had found her drawings pleasing and the activity gave her pleasure. In addition, she often went into the village school to read with some of the children, and give drawing lessons to those pupils who showed aptitude. She was also accustomed to lending a hand with the housekeeping, usually dealing with the linen cupboard, which duty interested Lady Agatha not at all.

Here in London, however, she found herself in some difficulty. There were no duties for her to perform as she was a guest in Mrs Machin’s little house. Her assistance in organizing the linen cupboard might have been welcomed, but she did not feel that she knew her hostess well enough to offer such help. From that lady’s reaction to her presence in the book-room, she feared that such a suggestion might be looked upon as interference.

As a resident of the vicarage in Illingham, she could visit people there in the name of the church. Here, she had no such standing in the community. Furthermore, her tentative offers to help her hostess 
with her husband’s memoirs had been firmly refused. Mr Hinder’s frequent presence in the house and in the book-room in particular made it very plain that the clergyman’s widow had all the help that she needed. Consequently, when Mrs Machin continued to remain in her room for most of the morning, and disappear at other times in order to write, Jessie found herself with rather a lot of time on her hands.

As the days went by, if she was honest with herself, she would be bound to say that she did not think very much of her future
sister-in
-law’s notions of being a hostess. She herself had never had a home of her own in adulthood, but Lady Agatha occasionally had people to stay. Although her ladyship often had many concerns, she would never have dreamed of neglecting a visitor in the way that Mrs Machin was doing.

There was one thing to be said for the current state of affairs, she decided, after leaving the dining-room after breakfast in order to sit in an empty parlour. She was very up-to-date with her
correspondence
. She had written to Lady Agatha, Henry, Lady Ilam, Lady Ilam’s mother Lady Hope, and a married friend who lived in Scotland. To whom else could she write? She had lived a retired life in Illingham for the past eight years. Her parents had both been only children and were now dead. She really knew very few people. There was always Lord Ashbourne, of course.

After a few moments, she came to with a start, realizing that she had been remembering how handsome he had looked on the
occasion
of Lord and Lady Ilam’s wedding. She must think of something else. She had no address for him, and anyway, he was dancing
attendance
on Lady Gilchrist. She, Jessie, was to be married to Henry Lusty and had no business thinking about other men. A bird in the hand was worth two in the bush. That was a proverb that she had learned as a child. Indeed, she could remember copying it out on a slate in her best writing.

Of course! She could write to Miss August, the village schoolmistress in Illingham. Then with a cry of vexation, she realized that if she wanted more paper she would have to interrupt Mrs Machin. After a moment’s thought, she straightened her shoulders and came to a decision. If there was no writing paper within easy reach, she would go and buy some. 

She went back up to her room, and when she met Dilly in the hall a few minutes later, she was drawing on her gloves. ‘I am going to buy writing paper,’ she told her. ‘I shall not be too long. Pray tell your mistress where I have gone, and that I shall be back soon.’

‘Oh, miss, I don’t think you should go,’ said Dilly. Her face looked worried.

‘Nonsense,’ answered Jessie bracingly. ‘The day looks perfectly fine. I am not a young slip of a girl, you know. I shall be perfectly safe.’

‘I’m not sure that missus would like it,’ the girl protested
doubtfully
.

Repressing the urge to say that if the ‘missus’ wanted to prevent her guest from doing things that she did not like, then she would do well to make a bit more of an effort to entertain her, Jessie simply replied, ‘I will be back before I am missed. You will probably not even need to tell her that I am gone.’

Once out in the fresh air, she felt better immediately. Sloane Street was only built up on one side, and looking across the road from Mrs Machin’s house, she felt as though she was in the middle of the
countryside
, with green fields, market gardens and even some animals grazing. It was quite difficult to believe that she was so close to such a big city. Then, as she walked on to Knightsbridge, the amount of traffic suddenly increased. She recalled Mr Lusty remarking that much of the south and westbound traffic would use this route, and indeed a fair number of people seemed set upon either leaving London or entering it, be it on foot, on horseback, or by carriage. She glanced across towards Hyde Park, remembering how the three of them had taken a walk there a short time before. Spring had commenced and trees were already looking green. She paused in admiration of a fine horse chestnut, resolving to come and look at it again and perhaps sketch it when its candles were fully out.

Suddenly conscious of being observed, she looked round and saw a very rakish-looking man watching her with a decidedly predatory expression upon his face. Turning hurriedly, she set off towards the city at a brisk pace and was soon entering Piccadilly.

At first, all her attention was taken up with observing the noise and activity of the city, from the urchins hanging about, hoping to earn a few pence holding someone’s horse, to the carts delivering 
goods, and fine carriages carrying the wealthy from one place to another. The hour was still early for the
ton
to be about, but there was a smattering of well-dressed people visiting shops, looking in windows, or simply getting an airing.

She had set out with the definite purpose of buying writing paper. The notion of looking for one specific shop, however, quite
disappeared
out of her head, when she saw the wide variety of shops to be found in Piccadilly. After taking what seemed to be a very few paces, she discovered a jeweller, a wine merchant, a hosier, an
ironmonger
, and a draper. To a woman whose daily diet was just one village shop, enlivened occasionally by a visit to a market town, this was a feast indeed. She did see a bookseller’s, but hesitated before going inside. She was rather reluctant to exchange the richness of her present vista for the dark and possibly musty interior of a shop.

As she looked about her, however, it dawned upon her that there were no respectable females walking alone. Gentlemen seemed to be able to enjoy that freedom, but any ladies were all accompanied, and the only women without companions were obviously servants going about errands. Furthermore, she noticed to her alarm that the rakish man whom she had seen earlier was standing on the other side of the road and observing her with interest. She recalled Dilly’s concern that she should not go into the city unaccompanied. She was
beginning
to see why. The man seemed about to cross the road, but most fortuitously, a cart rolled between them, and whilst his view of her was obscured, she darted into the shop, resolving to remain there until the man had gone, if necessary begging the shopkeeper’s
assistance
in hiding her.

As she had suspected, the shop was rather dark, and it took her eyes a moment or two to recover from the effects of coming in from the spring sun. She could hear voices, and she deduced that the
shopkeeper
must have a customer. Hurriedly she snatched up a book and pretended to read, not wanting to look as if she were eavesdropping. ‘Very good, my lord, I’ll see what I can do. If the item you’re looking for comes in, I’ll send you word.’

‘I’m obliged,’ was the courteous response. ‘Good day to you.’ Jessie recognized his voice immediately, and her heart gave that familiar painful lurch which was her customary response to Lord Ashbourne. Telling herself crossly that as a betrothed woman she 
had no business to feel so excited at the sound of a voice that did not belong to her affianced husband, she looked for a bookcase to hide behind. Unfortunately, there was not one tall enough to conceal her, so she was obliged to turn her back to the other occupants of the shop and attempt to give the impression of being thoroughly absorbed. She hoped that this would be sufficient to ensure that she would not be noticed.

‘Good day, my lord.’ The shopkeeper hastened forward to open the door, and Jessie breathed a sigh of relief. Then the man spoiled her calculations by looking in her direction and adding, ‘One moment, madam, and I will be with you.’

Becoming aware of the presence of a lady, Lord Ashbourne turned his head in her direction. ‘Well well,’ he murmured, sketching a bow. ‘And what brings you to London, Jez?’

‘Good morning,’ replied Jessie, curtsying. ‘I am visiting my
sister-in-law
-to-be.’

He raised his brows. ‘Then you are to be married. Is Henry Lusty the lucky man?’

‘Yes,’ Jessie replied, feeling guilty because she had not told him before, then remembering that she could not have done so because he had been travelling with Lady Gilchrist.

‘You should have waited for me, Jez,’ he complained lazily. ‘Still, no doubt Lusty would make you a much better husband.’

‘He couldn’t possibly make a worse one,’ she retorted.

‘As you say.’ He moved gracefully towards her and, with one elegant movement removed the book from her hands. ‘Ah, Lucas’s
Memoirs of the Loves, Intrigues, and Comical Adventures of the most Famous Gamesters and Celebrated Sharpers in the Reigns of Charles II, James II, William III and Queen Anne
,’ he remarked. ‘And you read upside down. A remarkable accomplishment.’ The famous steeply arched Ashbourne eyebrows soared.

She snatched the book away from him. ‘I didn’t want to look as if I was listening to your conversation,’ she replied.

‘I would never have dreamed of supposing it,’ he responded. ‘For how long are you fixed in London?’ He was looking exceedingly elegant in a cutaway coat of emerald green, with leather breeches and knee-high boots. His tall-crowned, wide-brimmed hat he had removed on acknowledging her, and now held in his gloved right hand, along 
with his cane. His black hair, still only touched lightly with grey at the temples, was caught back with a bow at the nape of his neck. His grey eyes gleamed. With his fine sculptured features, he was, and always had been, the most handsome man that she had ever seen.

‘It has not exactly been settled,’ Jessie replied. ‘I expect I will return home before Easter.’ He did not say anything in reply, and in order to fill up the silence, she went on quickly, ‘Mr Lusty – that is, Henry – wanted to buy my engagement ring.’

‘Indeed? May I see?’ He put out his hand to take hers.

Jessie coloured. ‘I do not have it on today,’ she said defensively, very conscious that she had not given it a thought before she had come out. ‘I did not want to risk losing it in the … the street.’

‘Very sensible,’ answered the earl, looking as if he did not quite believe her. ‘And now, I believe I must be going. What may I desire Long to find for you?’

‘There is nothing in particular,’ replied Jessie. ‘I just came in to—’ She glanced through the window and saw that the man who had been watching her before was still outside. ‘Oh no,’ she exclaimed involuntarily.

‘What is it?’ Ashbourne asked, following her gaze. ‘Hmm. Now what did you do to attract the attention of Felix Wiley?’

‘Nothing at all,’ Jessie said quickly, stepping further back into the shop, since Wiley’s gaze seemed to be directed towards the window out of which they were looking. ‘I was simply walking into town.’

‘I’m surprised that Lusty has left you alone here. This part of London can be full of sad rogues, you know.’

‘Yes, I know,’ answered Jessie, looking directly at him.

He laughed. ‘I’ve never attempted to deny it. Where is Lusty, by the way?’

‘With his bishop.’

Ashbourne’s brows drew together. ‘Then who is accompanying you?’

Jessie straightened, and drew her shoulders back. ‘I came alone. A lady of my years does not need a chaperon, surely.’

‘Believe me, a lady of
any
years needs a chaperon in this wicked city.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll find a sedan chair and escort you home.’

‘Raff, I don’t need a sedan chair to walk that little distance,’ Jessie protested. ‘I’m a countrywoman, remember.’ 

‘I’m not likely to forget it, my dear, when you conduct yourself with such appalling
naïveté
. To be blunt, respectable women don’t walk the city streets alone. Nor are they seen hanging on the arm of such as myself. Why isn’t your hostess accompanying you? What are you shopping for, anyway?’