The Highwayman (19 page)

As she flicked the reins, he called, “Jane, wait!”

Despite herself, she stopped, but she did not turn to face him and her back remained ramrod straight.

After a moment, she heard him sigh heavily before saying, “I shall be returning to London tomorrow.”

“Have a pleasant journey,” she said coolly, and urged her horse forward.

For some time, as she rode home to Meadowbrook, Jane was uplifted by her anger, as well as pride in the way she had conducted herself at the last. She had neither wept, pleaded, nor berated, all of which she had, by turns, felt like doing. Instead, she had remained calm, cool, and civil, just as a lady ought.

And she
was
a lady, despite the fact that too often of late she had failed to behave like one. But she was no longer bewitched by St. Clair. All that was over. Ended.

It was too bad that anger and pride did not continue to sustain her. Unfortunately, both deserted her long before Meadowbrook came into view. No sooner had she thought of endings than the full extent of her loss bore down upon her, and she was filled with pain and grief. And telling herself that she was better off without him could not ease the ache in her chest or help to hold back her tears.

By the time she reached Meadowbrook, she had composed herself sufficiently to face Melrose. But she feared she would lose her precarious control at the least sign of sympathy, which Agatha was sure to administer in abundance.

For that reason, she was grateful to discover that Agatha and Alice were from home. And even more so when Melrose informed her that they would be returning late, as they intended to dine with Sir Alfred.

She spent the next few hours in her chamber, weeping, wishing, praying. But she knew that it was useless to hope. It was over. She would never see him again, and if she did, they would meet as polite acquaintances. With that thought, the cycle started all over again.

She wondered how it was humanly possible to bear such pain, but knew that she must. There was no other choice. One did not, after all, die of a broken heart.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

By the time Agatha and Alice returned, Jane had composed herself once more. She had come to the conclusion that she was not going to die, and must, therefore, live with the pain of St. Clair’s loss. And although inside she might feel as if she were dying, a lady did not show her emotions.

Besides, it would be unfair to subject others to her misery. There was nothing so tedious, she knew, as being forced to endure the company of one who was forever sunk in gloom. The best thing she could do, for herself and those around her, would be to act as normally as possible, and also to keep herself too busy to wallow in her unhappiness.

And so, when Agatha and Alice finally returned, she was awaiting them in the drawing-room, and was able to greet them pleasantly, if not quite cheerfully.

“What have you two been up to?” she asked. “I am afraid I have been neglecting you quite dreadfully, but all that is in the past. I intend to remain at home now and attend to my duties.”

“Oh,” said Agatha, “we have been going along very well on our own, I promise you. So there is no need for you to desert Mr. Davies and Lord St. Clair.”

“Well, as to that,” said Jane, fighting to keep her voice steady, “Mr. Davies is quite fit now. As a matter of fact, he is to be our new estate agent.”

“Oh,” said Agatha again. “But what a marvelous solution to our problems! You know, I could not quite like imposing upon St. Clair’s man, and this is so much better than having poor Mr. Davies hanged.”

Alice giggled at that, and Jane was even able to smile a little as she agreed. Then she added, in what she hoped was a casual manner, “As for St. Clair, I believe he means to return to London tomorrow.”

“Whatever for?” asked Agatha, clearly astonished. “London is completely dead at this time of year. No one of any consequence will be there.”

“I doubt he cares for that,” Jane replied, unable to keep a touch of bitterness from her voice, since she was quite certain that Lady Cathcart would accompany him. She could not resist adding, “I am certain that there will always be some attractions there for a man such as he.”

Agatha frowned at that, and turning to Alice, said, “I believe, my dear, that it is past time for you to retire.”

To Jane’s amazement, Alice did not argue, although her countenance took on a pouting expression. After wishing them a slightly ungracious goodnight, the girl took herself off to bed.

“My goodness!” exclaimed Jane. “How did you manage that?”

“I am not completely useless as a mentor, my dear Jane,” Agatha informed her. “If you will recall, I was your governess before I became your companion.”

“Of course,” said Jane in a much chastened voice. “It is just that I am so used to thinking of you as my friend, it is difficult to remember you as an authority figure.”

“Humph,” said Agatha. “But to return to the subject of St. Clair, how long does he plan to remain in London?”

“I haven’t the least notion,” replied Jane.

“But he does mean to return to Ethridge Hall, does he not?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“Oh, Jane, you did not have a falling out with him, did you?”

“Of course not. Whatever put such a ridiculous idea into your head?”

“But I thought he meant to remain here indefinitely. I thought... I thought...”

“Oh, Agatha,” Jane said wearily, “I know exactly what you thought. You thought to promote a match between us, but even you must see how unsuitable such a match would be. Miss Propriety and the Rake! No, no! It is too absurd to be thought of.”

At the last, Jane had managed to inject a note of amusement into her voice. But as she was unable to look at her companion as she spoke, she did not see the sudden look of determination which crossed Agatha’s face.

That expression, however, had vanished when Jane turned towards her once more. “Speaking of matches, Agatha, just what is going on between you and Sir Alfred?”

Astonishingly, Agatha blushed before saying, “I cannot imagine what you mean, Jane. It is true that we have been spending a great deal of time together, but that is only because the Manor has been so understaffed. Then, too, there is Sir Alfred’s gout. It is improving steadily, but it would not be doing so if he were left to himself. The man needs a keeper.”

“Indeed,” said Jane.

“Yes,” continued Agatha, busily smoothing an invisible wrinkle from her skirt, “so I have been attempting to keep him in line. Also, although several of his staff have returned, his housekeeper is unable to do so just yet. As a result, Sir Alfred and I thought this would be an excellent opportunity to instruct Alice in the management of a household.”

“Oh, Agatha,” Jane said, “you should not be burdened with that chore. But never mind, I shall be able to take Alice off your hands now.”

“Oh, no!” cried Agatha. Then, blushing again, she said, “To be perfectly truthful, my dear, I rather enjoy playing the role of teacher again, and I have discovered that Alice learns quite rapidly. Also, I have more or less promised Sir Alfred that she and I will come each day until his housekeeper can return. So, if you do not mind, I should like to continue with this portion of Alice’s instruction.”

Jane longed to say that she minded very much, but of course she could not. Instead she said, “Well, only if you are certain that you do not mind.”

“Not in the least,” Agatha assured her cheerfully. Then she added, “And since I have another full day ahead of me tomorrow, I believe I, too, shall retire.”

Standing, she patted Jane’s cheek. “Good night, my dear,” she said softly. “Do not stay up too late.”

“No, I shan’t,” murmured Jane.

Then she sat, staring at the door through which Agatha had departed, wondering what she was going to do now. She had counted upon having Alice to help occupy her time, but that would not be possible. At least, not for the immediate future, and it was that which she feared the most. She knew in her head, if not in her heart, that time would eventually ease her pain, but in the meantime, she needed something to keep her occupied.

Of course there were always her usual household chores. They had certainly kept her busy enough in the past, but not in the way she now needed. Because they were so routine, she knew that her mind would be free to wander, and that would not do. No, she must think of something else.

It was several minutes before the very thing came to her. Her tenants! She would spend tomorrow visiting each one of them. She would listen to their gossip and their troubles and give them the benefit of her advice. Surely one or two would be in need of her medical services. And, while she was about it, it might be a good notion to invite Mr. Davies to accompany her. It would be an excellent opportunity for him to meet her people.

Oh, yes. That should fill her day quite nicely. And after tomorrow, she was certain that Mr. Davies would appreciate her help and advice until he grew more accustomed to his new responsibilities. That should see her through the remainder of the week, by which time, she hoped. Sir Alfred’s housekeeper would have returned.

Unfortunately, Jane’s plans went awry.

It all began well enough. Mr. Davies gladly accepted her invitation to visit her tenants with her; it was a beautiful day; and she was driving her curricle, which was one of her favourite things to do. But almost from the moment they stepped into the first cottage, nothing went as she had visualized.

All of her people seemed to be enjoying the most extraordinary degree of good health. Of course she was extremely glad of that, but there was not so much as a child’s scraped knee to require her attention. Even worse, no one wished to speak of anything or anyone but St. Clair, for whom they had nothing but praise.

And then there was poor Mr. Davies. Not by word or deed did he reveal his disappointment, but Jane soon realized that he was far from comfortable. Only then did it strike her that these visits were not what he had expected or wished for. It was the men whom he needed to meet and talk with, and they were all out, working in the fields.

And so, after a very short stop at each cottage, Jane dutifully drove her estate agent out to the fields, where he happily spent what seemed an inordinate amount of time talking with each male tenant. All of which meant that, with so much time on her hands, she spent the entire day doing just what she was trying to avoid—thinking of St. Clair.

Nor did anything else fall in with her schedule for the remainder of the week.

Although Mr. Davies was unfailingly polite and deferential when Jane sought him out early the next morning, she quickly sensed his impatience and frustration. It was quite apparent that he had no need of her help or her advice, for he knew his business very well. So that scheme was abandoned almost before it was begun.

But with the long hours of the entire sennight stretching out before her, she was filled with both dismay and panic. How on earth was she going to fill all of them?

Then a happy thought occurred to her. Madame Estelle had not yet delivered the gowns she had ordered, and Jane decided that she would drive into Leeds and collect them herself. While she was there, she would call at the infirmary to see how the young urchin was faring.

In fact, she decided, if he was up to making the journey, she would bring him back to Meadowbrook with her. The fresh country air and good food would do wonders for him, and she was certain that she and Mr. Davies could find something useful for him to do on the estate.

Her first errand was successful. The gowns were completed, but Madame Estelle had not yet had time to arrange for their delivery, and so Jane was able to take them with her. It was a small thing, but after her failures of the past two days, it seemed a good omen. She arrived at the infirmary feeling almost light-hearted.

That made her disappointment all the keener when she learned that the child was no longer there. Nor could she discover what had become of him, for the busy matron could tell her only that the boy had been claimed and taken away that very morning by a most rough-looking individual.

Jane had no doubt that the individual had been the chimney-sweep. Even if she could discover their whereabouts, there was no way she could wrest the boy from the man’s clutches. No matter how cruel and inhumane he might be, the law was on his side. So that now, in addition to all her other troubles, she was consumed by guilt over that pitiful child’s fate, for she knew that if she had come a day sooner, she might have saved him.

To make matters worse, if that were possible, the trip to Leeds had served to remind her more strongly than ever of St. Clair. For most of the return trip she was sunk in self-pity and despair.

By the time Jane reached Meadowbrook, however, she had regained a great deal of her common sense and concluded that she had wasted far too much time in these fruitless efforts to stay busy. She would do much better to resume her usual daily routine. Having discovered that it was impossible to suppress thoughts and memories of St. Clair, she decided that she would no longer make the attempt, but might just as well give them full rein. To do so was painful, but it was a bittersweet pain, and almost comforting in an odd sort of way.

As it happened, things were not so bad as she had thought they would be. She was kept far busier than she had expected, for Elsie played least in sight even more often than was usual. But for once Jane did not really mind and scarcely listened to the girl’s vague excuses the first few times Jane questioned her.

Although a certain heaviness in her chest never quite left her, Jane discovered that even so profound an emotion as grief could not afflict one continuously. There were times, however rare, when she actually forgot her troubles... or at least did not think of them overmuch.

Then, too, Agatha and Alice were there every evening, for they did not again dine at the Manor with the squire. It was from Agatha Jane learned the reason for Elsie’s frequent defections.

“Well, dear,” said Agatha, “she has been seeing one of the footmen at Ethridge Hall. In fact, I should not be surprised if she gave you her notice very soon now.”