by Karen Kirst
Hannah gathered the brown tweed fabric and sat in a sunny corner. The task of making invisible stitches on rough fabric occupied all of her concentration. When she finished, her neck was stiff and her fingertips sore. She had been stitching for over an hour, with no sign of Jane. If she could take a break from the tweed and work on the ball gown, it would make a nice switch. She stretched her neck, rolling her head over from one side to the other, and straightened. “Lucinda and Amelia, please feel free to take some time away from sewing. Perhaps we should start again in a few hours.”
The maids nodded and sent relieved smiles her way.
It was time to hunt down Jane, for there was no finishing the ball gown without her trying it on. Hannah had basted everything together before leaving for Tansley, and what a relief it would be to finally have it done. She scurried up the stairs to Jane’s wing, listening for the sounds of Jane practicing her violin. Aside from maids opening and closing doors, all was silent.
She opened the door to Jane’s room, but it was empty, save for a scrap of paper on the bed. That was odd. The maids must have forgotten to throw it away. In solidarity with all working women who sometimes forgot every last detail, Hannah picked it up to dispose of it herself. As she did, the sight of her own name made her pause.
My Dear Hannah—
Hannah sat down, her mouth suddenly dry. What on earth was happening?
By the time you get this note, I will be on my way to matrimonial bliss. Timothy Holdcroft and I are eloping to Gretna Green. I know, as sensible as you are, that you are probably disappointed in me. On the other hand, I think you know how very much I love Timothy, and because of that, I think you will want to see me happy. I tried to go along with John’s idea, but another year away from Timothy is intolerable. Your trips to Tansley have kept hope alive for both of us. Please don’t be angry with me. John will be, but perhaps you can make him see reason. If anyone can, I think it would be you.
With sisterly affection,
Jane
This must be a wretched joke. Was John playing a trick on her? She looked around, desperate for signs that Jane was, in fact, still there. She leaped from the chair and wrenched open the wardrobe door, but only a few pieces remained inside. She whirled around, seeking out Jane’s violin, but the entire thing was gone, including the case.
If the violin was gone, then Jane most certainly was, too.
Panic coursed through her, leaving her knees weak. She must go tell John what had happened. Perhaps there was still time to intercept the couple. The Holdcrofts were a good family, and there was nothing of the fortune hunter about Timothy. Even so, an elopement was most unseemly. If only Jane had listened to reason. What silliness, to dissemble over a year. If Jane had upheld her end of the bargain, then Hannah would have worked on John over the course of the year, finally having him agree to the match and everything could have been done properly.
These romantic women and their impulses. Save me from ever being a fool like this.
Crumpling up the note in her hand, she raced down the stairs and out of the house. John would be in the barn. He was always out in the barn, working with the dogs whenever there was daylight. Only in the evenings would he come in, and then to read more about training and breeding.
By the time she reached the barn, she was panting with the exertion, her hair untidily windblown from its braided coronet. The grooms gawked at her openly as she hurried through the barn.
“Reed.”
He turned around, a smile of welcome on his face. The smile faded when he saw her. “What’s happened?”
“Jane. She’s run away. Eloped with Timothy Holdcroft.” She held out the note to him.
He snatched the scrap of paper, scanning it with eyes that had lost their usual warm light. “What does she mean, you kept hope alive for them? Have you been aiding her in this ridiculous romance?”
“What? No, of course not.” She swallowed, struggling to calm herself. “I don’t know what she meant by that. Does it matter? Shouldn’t we be going after them now? We could try to intercept them before she gets too far.”
“That depends entirely on this situation.” His jaw muscles tightened. She had not seen him this angry since that one day in his study, when she had spoken to him about Jane’s love for Timothy. “I trusted you, when you gave your word. Did you betray me?”
“I did not.” Though she was terrified, she forced herself to look him straight in the eyes. “I don’t know why Jane said I gave them hope.”
“Davis.” He shouted the word, and the head groom rushed over. “Did you see my sister leave this morning? Are any of the horses gone?”
“No, sir. All the horses are here, and I haven’t seen your sister all day.” Davis called to his grooms. “I’ll ask all the lads what they’ve seen.”
“Good. If you hear anything, send word to the big house.” Reed grabbed Hannah’s wrist and pulled her along with him as he left the barn. “Now, let’s question her maid.”
Hannah had to run to keep up with his long strides. She didn’t like this at all. For so long, she had been considering herself, if not Reed’s equal, at least his friend. Now, the closeness between them had melted away in the heat of his anger.
He tugged her up the stairs, in full view of any servants passing by, and flung open the door to Jane’s room. “Beth,” he called. “Get out here at once.”
Beth, a pretty, slight girl with a shrinking demeanor, walked hesitantly into the bedroom from the sitting room. “Yes, sir?”
“My sister has eloped. Please don’t insult my intelligence by pretending you didn’t know.” He cast a withering look Hannah’s way. “I want to hear every detail of the whole debacle.”
Beth burst into tears. “She said you would be angry.”
“That word doesn’t begin to describe my emotions right now.” He let go his hold on Hannah, and she rubbed her wrist. The sudden release was disconcerting, as was his anger. She was no longer a part of his life, certainly not a trusted part of his life.
“It will be better if you tell the truth, Beth,” she spoke up. “Please tell us all you know.”
“Miss Jane had been planning to elope with Mr. Holdcroft for some time.” The maid gasped between sobs. “She conveyed messages to him through Miss Hannah.”
“What?” Hannah shook her head incredulously. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I knew you were involved. Otherwise, why would my sister say that you had given her hope?” He turned on her, his brown eyes sparkling dangerously. “Hannah, I trusted you.”
She fought back the ridiculous urge to cry. “Beth, I had no idea that she transmitted any messages through me. What more can you tell us?”
“I don’t know. All I know is, she left first thing this morning. Mr. Holdcroft came to fetch her, and she was gone.” Beth sobbed again. “I watched her go.”
“You are discharged.” Reed spat the words out at Beth. Then he turned to Hannah. “I am going after my sister. With any hope, I can find her before the marriage has taken place.”
Beth ran, crying openly, from the room.
Hannah took a deep breath. Panicking and crying would do no good in this situation, as much as she wanted to give vent to both emotions. “I will come with you.”
“No, you’ve done quite enough.” He rushed out of the room toward his suite, forcing her to run after him. “Thank you, Miss Siddons. You may consider yourself discharged, as well.”
“Wait,” she gasped, quick on his heels. “You know how well she has listened to you in the past. At least I could get her to agree to the appearance of going to London. She will pay attention to me. I don’t know if she will give you any credence.”
He turned around, his brows lowered. “Fine. If you can convince her to return, your position here may be saved. Be outside in less than five minutes.”
*
John made haste to get ready, throwing clothing into a trunk without waiting for his man to help him. He shouted or
ders to his butler and then begged him, quietly, not to say anything else to the servants. Of course, his temper had gotten the best of him, and surely everyone, even down to the last scullery maid, knew what had occurred.
He ran outside, preparing to yell at Sid for not being ready, but she was already downstairs on the portico. She was dressed in a simple, dark suit and her battered old valise was resting next to her. Had she been crying? Surely not. She had nerves of steel and even though she was in the wrong, she would brazen it out.
“Get in,” he ordered curtly. “I’ll sit on the box.”
He handed her up into the carriage and slammed the door shut. Then he climbed up next to the coachman. Driving was one thing that could soothe his mind now, and he needn’t spare the whip. The faster they traveled, the sooner they could overtake Jane and her paramour. “I’ll take the first turn,” he muttered to Hopkins. “After the end of this stretch, you can take over.”
“Very good, sir.”
John whipped up the horses and they lurched forward. Grant Park rapidly faded from view as they headed north. As the carriage jolted over the roads, he searched his mind for the moment everything went wrong. Somehow, he wasn’t as angry with Jane as he should be. His sister was quiet and shy, but she had a will of iron. He should have seen this coming. She had acquiesced too quickly, had given up on the idea too agreeably. When they had that conversation the other day—was it only yesterday?—he should have known something was brewing in her mind. She was trying to get him to agree to a plan she had already put in motion.
His greatest disappointment was in Sid. How could she have been a party to this? She had asked him openly about the matter, and he had told her his reasons for objecting to the match. She let the matter drop, or gave the appearance of doing so, and then went behind his back. He had trusted in her so implicitly for so long. He had talked to her about things that he had never spoken of to anyone else, and he had grown so used to her. She became a part of his life. He didn’t want her to leave it. Now, she had revealed herself as she really was, and he could never trust her again.
He brooded, mulling the matter over and over in his mind. As he rounded the corner, the horses skidded, neighing. Another carriage was in the road, sitting askew. He managed to avoid it, nearly clipping the wreckage as he went past. Then he pulled the horses to a halt and jumped down from the box.
“John!” A familiar voice cried as he neared the ruined carriage. Jane poked her head out of the carriage window. “John?”
He had succeeded in finding his sister, more quickly than he had ever imagined. They must have broken down just a short while after leaving.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
Timothy Holdcroft, bent over the axle of one of the wheels, straightened as he approached. “Mr. Reed,” he replied, respectfully touching his cap. “I can explain.”
“Of course you can explain. The three of you planned this whole matter out and now you got caught,” he retorted. “Jane, get down. You are coming home now.”
Her expression turned mulish. “I most certainly am not. A broken axle will not deter us, even though it’s taken forever to repair.”
Behind him, the sound of a carriage door opening alerted him to Hannah’s presence. As she drew near, Jane’s expression softened. “Hannah?”
“May I join you?” Hannah asked. She placed one hand on the carriage door.
“Yes,” Jane replied warily. “You may. My brother can stay out there, on the road.”
Hannah vanished inside the carriage with a flurry of skirts. He was left with his coachman and footmen standing behind him, and Timothy Holdcroft standing awkwardly before him. The young man looked at him, regret and appeal warring with his expression. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, sir.”
“A broken axle happens to the best of us. Hopkins, see what you and the lads can do.” He motioned for the coachman to take a look at the axle. “I want to have a conversation with Holdcroft.”
“Of course.” Timothy walked a few paces away. “You probably want to give me a good thrashing.”
“The idea crossed my mind,” John admitted. “However, I am trying to live a life that is a bit more along the ‘turn the other cheek’ way that Christ taught us. What I do want to know is why you chose to wed my sister in such a dastardly fashion.”
“Jane insisted that we would not be able to get married in any other way,” Timothy admitted, with a sheepish look. “I hated the idea of elopement, but Jane was most insistent. I didn’t want her to think I didn’t love her enough to be daring, so I went along with the idea. I wanted to come and explain my case to you, one man to another. In fact, I drove up here with that intention. But Jane intercepted me, and, well, she wanted to run away. So we did, though we didn’t get far.” The young man looked down at the ground. “I know you think I am a scoundrel, but I assure you my intentions are honorable.”
“My sister’s fortune means nothing to you?” Why not pare the matter down to the simplest objection, and be done with it?
“I assumed that if we eloped, she would not see a penny of it,” Timothy replied. “I am fine with that, and I will provide for her.”
That was a direct enough answer, but he had been fooled by simple “honesty” before. “That is true,” he replied. “Not one tiny bit of her fortune would come to you.”
“I understand.”
He glanced back over his shoulder. The coachman and the footman had finished the repair, and the carriage was sitting properly once more. “Come with us back to Grant Park,” John replied. “We can do better by all of this if we have a serious discussion at home, and not out here on the road.”
Timothy nodded. “Of course.”
“In fact, I’ll follow you,” John continued, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He stifled a sardonic grin. “I would like to make certain that you won’t lose your way once more.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Hannah sat in the parlor, clenching her trembling hands around a fragile cup of tea. Timothy stood before her, facing the hearth. They were alone, for Reed had gone to see to both carriages, and Jane had fled to the security of her room.
“Miss Siddons, I never meant for this to happen, not in this way,” he began, turning pleading eyes her way. “I never gave a thought to anything but Jane’s happiness. You must believe me.”
Hannah forced herself to meet his gaze. In the depths of his expression, she could discern only regret and sorrow. He was genuinely sorry for what he had done. He loved Jane, and he wanted to be with her. It was as simple as that. “I do believe you, Mr. Holdcroft.”
“How do I make her brother understand that I am no fortune hunter? I know what he must think of me. Indeed, I can scarcely blame him.” Timothy heaved a gusty sigh. “What a muddle.”
“Yes.” Hannah paused for a moment, giving the matter some thought. “Mr. Reed appreciates honesty and straightforward talk, for he has no use for anyone who dithers or tries to evade the truth. This is why an elopement is so repugnant to him. He would have been much more impressed if you had simply come to him, as you intended, and put your case to him.”
“I tried—” Timothy began.
“I know, and Jane changed your mind. I know full well how persuasive the Reeds can be, when they want you to do things their way,” Hannah replied. After all, she had completely rearranged her life around what John Reed had urged her to do. Without him goading her on, she would be at home in Tansley now. The shop would be in ruins, and she’d end up as an old maid in one of her sisters’ homes, but she would not have endured the topsy-turvy ride that characterized life with the Reed family. Life would be quiet, and frustrating, and set in stone.
Life would have been, in short, miserable. Yet here she was, just as wretched as if she had stayed, because John Reed thought she lied to him. She would never betray him, but he would not believe her.
Timothy stood, one hand braced against the mantel. “You know him better than I do. How should I try to red
eem myself?”
She shrugged. “I am not certain. At one time, I would have argued your side to him, but he no longer trusts me. He thinks I was a sort of romantic go-between for you and Jane. I wasn’t, as least as far as I know, but nothing I say carries any weight with him any longer.” She looked at him pointedly. “You will have to do this on your own. Talk to him, be honest with him. He may not agree to anything, but at least you must make the effort. Above all, do not allow yourself to be carried away by anything Jane says again. If you listen to her and defy your own sense of morality, then you are sure to fail.”
He nodded. “That is sound enough advice.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. There was nothing more for her to do here. Amelia and Lucinda could finish Jane’s wardrobe without any further assistance from her, as long as she left a few instructions for them. Whether Jane would be using the gowns for a London debut or for her own trousseau was neither here nor there. It was time for Hannah to leave Grant Park and go home. Her business here was done. It had been done for some time, but she had been cajoled into staying because she felt she could be of help.
No, that was not all. If she was going to be perfectly honest with herself, there was a deeper reason for her staying. She loved John Reed. She could not imagine life without his companionship. Once, she thought of Grant Park as home. Now home meant her sisters. Home meant Tansley.
“Are you leaving today?” she asked. Her heart grew heavy in her chest, but this was the right way. It was, in fact, the only way. If she could leave Grant Park, then she would have a clear mind in which to try to solve all of this mess. Staying here would be no help at all.
“I think I will.” He gave her a sheepish look. “I hardly think I will be eloping to Gretna Green tonight. I must also face my mother, and she will be furious.”
It was difficult to imagine the aristocratic Mrs. Holdcroft in a screaming fit. Surely, when she grew angry, she was of the icy and precise persuasion. In some ways, that could be more forbidding than an open display of temper. Her heart lurched in pity for Timothy. He was having a rotten time of it, no doubt. “When you leave, I will come with you, if I may. I don’t think there’s much future for me here. Mr. Reed mentioned that I was discharged, and I doubt he’s changed his mind.”