Lord Elliot Grey, Earl of Maudsley.
Her oldest friend, the one person who knew her best in the entire world. She knew of his connection with Viscount Hawthorne, of course, but she had so hoped that this scenario would never come to pass. Jane had been so careful to create herself, if not entirely anew then at least cobbling parts of her life that were real to create a new and different whole.
Yet she could feel the edifice she had built crumbling around her with each minute that passed of the wedding ceremony. Soon she would have to greet him, and she could only pray that he still held her in kind enough regard not to give her away. Her belly was a mass of writhing snakes and she had no doubt that all color must have fled from her cheeks. She felt nauseous and afraid.
Until now, only her dear friend, Faith, knew that Miss Jane Lacey was a creation of fiction, made up of elements of fact - a character to be played, at least until the furor around her own name died down. She had known that she would not be able to escape notice forever, that would have been too much to ask, but she had hoped for a little longer than the meagre month that had been given her by Faith’s kindly offer to take her as a companion.
Of course, when Jane had taken the position, she had not known that they would be attending Lady Annabelle’s wedding, here in Winchester. When Faith had insisted she accompany the family from Wilmsdale to attend, Jane had somehow managed to convince herself that everything would work out for the best. She had known of the connection between Viscount Hawthorne and Lord Grey, of course she had, but it had not seemed possible that Elliot would actually attend, too. Northumberland was a long way from Winchester.
It was a sad truth that those bygone, halcyon days when Jane had wished for nothing more than to be in the same room as Elliot were long gone. The time when, as a foolish, moonstruck girl, she had believed herself to be in love with Elliot Grey. It was true that Jane had known all about the great affection Elliot held for his godfather, Viscount Hawthorne, and in turn the generosity that the older man had shown his charge after Elliot’s father had passed away when he was just a boy. Yet, by the time she had found out that the wedding was to take place, it was too late for her to change her plans and go elsewhere without drawing attention to herself. As time had passed, Jane had prayed that Elliot would not be attending. She grew bolder as nobody spoke of him and, on the rare occasions that they did, they were doubtful that he would be able to get away from his duties in Northumberland on his family estate.
A spate of bad weather in the North of the country added to Jane’s optimism. It was a long journey from Northumberland when the weather was fine and the roads passable after all. Nobody would set out into known hardship, would they? And his harridan of a mother had only recently passed away, leaving Elliot busy making the arrangements for her funeral, and would be in mourning so likely to eschew social commitments such as a wedding. There had grown up a hundred reasons why he would not attend and Jane was ashamed to admit that she had been grateful for the opportune timing of the Lady Maudsley’s passing - though she had been surprisingly saddened at her loss.
Yet here Elliot was. Larger than life and even more handsome than Jane remembered. He still wore his light brown hair naturally, the slightly tousled look making him look as though had barely gotten out of bed. She longed to smooth her fingers through the loose curls that had never seen an ounce of pomade or powder to make them fashionable. He had always been tall, but she remembered him as a slightly gangling youth. The man before her had filled out, his well-tailored suit showing off his broad shoulders and muscular legs perfectly. Jane did not doubt that there was many a matron in the congregation considering him as a match for their daughters, especially given his vast estates and ever-growing wealth and position.
As the ceremony came to an end, the snakes in Jane’s belly had tied themselves into a tight knot. The pressure in her abdomen was excruciatingly painful and she felt weak as a kitten. She glanced around the nave anxiously, trying to work out if there was a way that she might leave the cathedral without being seen, eager to get away, to be alone, to get out of the stuffy air inside the church. She needed space to breathe and to think. The pounding in her head would stop then, she would be able to compose herself and would be able to face Elliot without giving anything away.
If only she had been at the other end of the pew, where the Duke of Calder was sat, she would have slipped away into the vestry or found some other route to leave. Now, Jane did not know if she should wait for everyone else to make their way out of the grand oak doors before exiting the church herself. She felt as nervy as a wild animal cornered in a trap. Perhaps if she were able to meld into the crowd, Lord Elliot would not notice her absence, though she knew he had seen her and recognized her. She had to get away. Perhaps feigning a headache might mean she could go back to the Duke’s Winchester town house, away from the crowds - and away from Elliot?
But as she made to stand up, Jane came over most peculiar. Her head was spinning, and she could feel a film of cold sweat on the back of her neck. She rubbed her hand to her temples then around her neck before she sank back down onto the hard, wooden pew, her knees as wobbly as blancmange. She was anxious, of course, but this seemed so much more than that. She began to shiver, though she was hot, and felt so tired that she could curl up on the unyielding pew and sleep for an eternity.
“Are you quite well?” Faith said, turning to her just as the bride and groom began to make their way down the aisle. “You look ever so pale.” Her wide blue eyes were filled with concern. Jane hated to see her so worried.
She tried to speak, but no words came. She gulped a little, trying to moisten her suddenly dry mouth. “I must confess I do feel quite peculiar,” Jane said, trying to make her voice sound hearty and jovial, but all that came out was a strained whisper. “I am sure it will pass.”
Even she could not ignore the quavering weakness of her voice. Jane had ever hated being a burden to anyone, and she was already indebted in so many ways to Faith and her family. She did not wish to embarrass them or shame them in any way. She would not embarrass them on this important day, in front of the most fashionable members of the Ton. Jane tried to sit upright, but her spine felt soft and weak, her body unable to do more than slump back down, and she gave Faith a helpless look.
Faith laid a gentle hand upon her friend’s arm. “I have to go and tend to Annabelle, but I will be back as soon as I can,” she assured Jane. “Stay here, I shall send someone back for you even if I cannot get away myself.” She left the pew and followed behind Lady Annabelle and Viscount Hawthorne, walking alongside Lord Elliot Grey who glanced over at her, his eyes searching hers. His face paled when he saw her looking so unwell, and Jane wished she could disappear. She did not want their first meeting after all these years to be with her looking anything but her best.
His intense gaze made Jane shiver as a cold sweat broke out all over her body once more. She sank further down on the wooden pew, feeling overcome. She hated herself for being so weak, so utterly useless. She was not the sort of woman that swooned because an old love looked her way, though she acknowledged that his presence meant so much more to her than that. But this surely was not just that? She must be truly unwell, though she had never known a day sick in her life.
The Duke and Duchess of Calder had risen from their seats and were preparing to exit the church on the other side of Jane. “Shall you come with us, my dear?” the duke asked her, looking down at where she was sitting with a concerned look on his kindly face. “You look quite done in.”
“I am a little fagged,” Jane admitted weakly, though what she was feeling was so much greater than just a little fatigue. She did not wish to be a burden, or for them to think less of her in any way.
“You should go back to the house and lie down for a spell,” Duchess Helena said, as she reached out to feel Jane’s forehead. It was hot and her skin was clammy. The duchess withdrew her hand with a slightly disgusted look upon her face, but her tone was calm and gentle
when next she spoke. “I can send for the doctor. But if you feel well enough, you could come back to the wedding breakfast once you feel a little more refreshed. Annabelle will understand, I am sure.”
“I think it might be for the best. I shall wait here, until everyone has gone,” Jane said. “Faith said she would send someone back for me.” Her hosts nodded, and unexpectedly both leaned down to kiss her on the cheek as she let them move past her out of the pew, into the aisle of the cathedral.
Once alone, she took a few deep breaths. She simply did not understand why she was feeling quite so dreadful. Of course, she was anxious to see Lord Elliot present. He could ruin everything for her, just by saying her real name out loud – but she was sure that he must have heard what had happened to her. Not much happened in the North without everyone knowing of it. That the news had reached Dorset of her reckless midnight flight meant that everyone in Scotland and Northumberland must know of it, too.
But her nerves were normally much better adapted to such matters. After all, she had travelled the very length of the country to escape her destiny and had been looking over her shoulder every moment of every day since. She was adept at managing her anxieties. Mayhaps she was truly unwell. She prayed that it was so. Jane could not bear the idea that just seeing Lord Elliot Grey once more could affect her so greatly, much as he had once filled her entire world.
Once everyone had left, some time passed without anyone coming back for her. Jane crept cautiously to the door of the cathedral, using the ends of the pews to steady her as she staggered on her wobbling legs. She listened to the hubbub of people talking outside as it grew fainter, until she could hear no more voices at all. Stepping foot outside the cathedral, she felt the sun burning her eyes and making her head pound. She leant against the door jamb, praying it would pass. But the pain behind her eyes, the pressure in her skull was excruciating. She swayed a little, then collapsed to the ground in a heap.
When she came around Elliot’s anxious face was peering down at her. “You silly ninny,” he said, his tone tender as he slipped his arm under her legs and body and lifted her up into his strong arms. “You were ever too independent, Lady Jane.”
“Hush!” Jane cried. “You cannot tell a soul that you know me.”
“There is nobody here to listen in,” Elliot said glancing around them. “They have all gone on to my godfather’s house to partake of his fine food and excellent claret.”
“And why have you not gone with them?” Jane asked him, her voice weak and her mind drifting in and out of clarity.
“Dear Lady Faith and the duke and duchess were most concerned about you so, ever the gallant knight in shining armor, I said I would come and fetch you home.” Elliot said, his eyes sparkling with what Jane could have sworn was amusement.
She wanted to retort angrily, but could find nothing to say, and no energy to be angry with him.
“And because I wished to speak with you, alone. I thought it best we do so away from prying eyes,” Elliot continued. He walked out of the churchyard, carrying Jane as effortlessly as though she were a mere babe in arms.
Jane did not know if she should be angry or amused by this most ridiculous of turns in events. Of all the people that Faith could have sent to take care of her, Elliot was the last person Jane wished to see in her current state, yet he was also the only one she longed for. Leaning her head against his shoulder, Jane felt some of the anxiety she had been feeling lift. She should have known that he would never wish to cause her any pain or trouble.
Yet, in truth, she had known. She just had not been ready to see him again, to be so close to him and not be able to touch him or be with him. She had missed him too greatly to pretend that all could ever be well between them. “And so here we are,” she said sadly, her voice barely audible, but she knew he had heard her.
“Your father has been seething,” Elliot said, grinning a little. “Lord Wulfstan has not shown the same level of anxiety.”
“I am at least glad that my fiance is so unaffected by my disappearance,” Jane said, trying to smile back. She felt so weary. Every bit of her ached. She began to shiver again.
“I think we should get you to your bed, and then fetch a doctor,” Elliot said firmly.
Jane nodded, her teeth chattering. She could not disagree, even if she had wished to. “I am staying with the Duke and Duchess of Calder, on Canon Street,” she managed to say before she slumped against his shoulder.
“I know that, silly girl. Now, do be quiet and let me find someone to take us home.”
Elliot walked briskly to a hansom cab idling by the roadside, the horse nibbling at the bushes that surrounded the cathedral’s grounds. The driver sat up straight on his perch as soon as he saw Elliot and leapt down to open the door for them. Elliot placed her inside carefully, then climbed in himself. Having wrapped her up in a blanket, he banged on the door of the carriage to tell the drive to set off. Jane leant her head on his shoulder, and Elliot put his arm around her shoulders. It made her feel safe and protected as she passed in and out of full consciousness.
The driver did not take the horse above a trot, but every turn of the wheels was agony to Jane, shaking her awake each time the cab hit a rut or pothole in the road. She had rarely had so much as a cold as a child, so being so very sick was new to her. She prayed that she would not succumb to whatever it was that had come over her so suddenly. She knew that there were too many diseases that the doctors could not cure.
The hansom cab drew to a halt right outside Hamilton House and Elliot hurried up the steps and banged on the door loudly. Jane beckoned to him as he hurried back down to help her out of the cab. “They call me Jane Whitton,” she urged. “They do not know…” She let her heavy head sink down against his chest as Elliot thrust a few coins into the hands of the cab driver.
“You must go and fetch Dr Shadburne, on Chapel Lane,” he said to the driver of the hansom cab, his words coming quickly, his tone harsher than Jane could remember him ever being. “Bring him straight here, do not take no for an answer.”
The driver took one look at Jane’s grey face as Elliot lifted her out the carriage and nodded. “I will not let you down, mi’lord.”
Chapter Four
In the weeks that followed, Elliot was a regular, if concerned, caller at Hamilton House, the Winchester home of the Duke and Duchess of Calder. Of course, he was not permitted to enter Jane’s sick room, and mostly he was told that she had fallen into a deep and impenetrable slumber and that Dr Shadburne had said it was best to let her remain unconscious through the worst ravages of her fever anyway. Elliot’s imagination could only run wild as to what was really occurring behind Jane’s motionless eyelids - and whether she might pull through. Too many struck down by the ague did not.
Elliot was cautious to remember that Jane had told him that the duke and duchess’s household all knew her as Jane Whitton, assiduously asking after ‘Miss Jane’. He brought little posies of fresh flowers every day and waited for Lady Faith to descend from her friend’s bedside each day to deliver the meagre news that Jane was far from recovering from her unexpected attack of the ague. Dr Shadburne had prescribed cinchona bark, and he seemed quietly confident that Jane would recover due to her previously robust constitution. However, he did hold concerns that if she did come back to them that she may suffer with recurrences in the future. Elliot could do nothing more than pray that Dr Shadburne was right about the first of his opinions, and wrong about the last.
As the days had passed with no change, everyone had grown a little more despondent, though the good doctor continued to reassure them that such a long fever was quite normal. He insisted that Jane was strong enough to beat it. So, Elliot was delighted when he arrived for his regular morning visit, some three and a half weeks after his godfather’s wedding, to find the household in much improved spirits.
“Mi’lord, Miss Jane has awoken,” the Calder’s butler, Anthwistle, confided as he opened the door. “She has a little color in her cheek
s and has taken some sustenance, I am told.” He then looked a little ashamed of himself, at having spoken out of turn. It was not a servant’s place to tell an Earl such things, after all.
“Thank you, my good man,” Elliot said, not upset at all by the breach in protocol. He was too delighted to know that Jane was making progress. He patted the butler on the arm and moved past him into the hallway. A couple of the doors off the vast, marble-floored space were open and Elliot could see a housemaid in the dining room, busily polishing the brass and silver, as she hummed a tune to herself. When Elliot compared the servants smiling faces today, to the worry he had seen all of them showing in recent weeks, it was clear that Jane’s improvement had lifted everyone’s mood.
Elliot looked up to where Lady Faith was descending the wide, ornamental oak stairs to greet him. She seemed to glide when she walked. Elliot could not help noticing how much prettier she was when she smiled, as she was doing now. “Good morning to you, Lord Grey,” she said allowing him to take her hands in his and press a polite kiss to the back of them. “She is doing much better. Her fever finally broke overnight. I cannot tell you how glad we all are.”
“I think I can see it,” Elliot said, his tone teasing. “Even the servants seem delighted.” He nodded to Anthwistle, and the housemaid who was humming as she cleaned the brasses in the dining room.
“Everyone loves Jane. She is one of those people. She makes everyone feel better, always had a kindly word,” she added, her voice full of affection for her friend.
Elliot was about to agree with her wholeheartedly, before he remembered that he was only supposed to have met her at his godfather’s wedding. “I am sure she is,” Elliot said, quickly changing what he had originally intended to say.
“You have been most kind to check on her,” Lady Faith said, blushing a little. “Everyone thought you would go back North as soon as the festivities were done.
The Earl's Love Match: A Sweet Regency Romance Page 3