Claiming the Chaperon's Heart

by Anne Herries

  ‘Yes, very likely,’ Jane said, but she was still uneasy. The man had been staring at her—and something in his manner had struck her as being odd. Yet perhaps Will was right and she was making too much of it.

  Jane was soon asleep and no dreams came to disturb her rest. In the morning she decided she would visit one or two of the furniture makers’ warehouses and see if she could find the missing items needed for Lord Frant’s house. Both Melia and Sarah were engaged to friends so she would go alone...

  * * *

  As she left the second of the two cabinet makers’ establishments feeling pleased with the purchase of several pieces, Jane stood for a moment in the side street and took stock. A cab had brought her here and she would need to find one to take her home. Had she realised the warehouse was as secluded as this, she would have brought her own carriage, but she’d expected it would be within easy reach of the showrooms. She believed that Lord Frant would be well pleased with the items she had purchased on his behalf, and there was no need for her to look further for the moment.

  Ready to go home, she decided that she would return to the warehouse and ask if someone could summon a cab for her. As she turned, Jane was suddenly accosted by a man she’d never seen in her life. He was dressed in a brown coat and breeches with a dark hat pulled down low over his brow and the hand he placed on her arm was not quite clean about the fingernails.

  ‘I reckon yer be the one I be lookin’ for,’ he grunted and thrust his face closer so that she could smell the sour odour of his breath. ‘I’ve been told to warn yer that my mistress will have a reckoning if you continue your pursuit of her man. If you know what’s good for yer, yer’ll go home and forget him...’

  ‘What are you taking about?’ Jane suppressed the trickle of fear that ran through her. ‘I have no idea who your mistress is—or her man...’

  The brute pressed his face closer to Jane’s. ‘I reckon yer knows, all right. It ain’t no use playin’ the innocent with Pyke. I’m warnin’ yer, and if yer ignore me warnin’ yer’ll be sorry.’

  Jane wrested her arm from his grasp but he grabbed at her again and threatened her with his fist.

  ‘Hey, you!’ a man’s voice cried. ‘What do you think you’re doing? Unhand that lady at once or I’ll make you sorry you were born...’

  Instantly, the man ran off down the street and she turned to find herself face to face with the gentleman she’d seen watching her from the pits at the theatre the previous evening.

  ‘Sir,’ Jane said, breathing deeply to steady her nerves, ‘I must thank you for scaring off that brute.’

  ‘Was he after money?’ he asked and looked at her in a puzzled manner. ‘You are Lady March, are you not? A friend pointed you out to me last evening at the theatre...’

  ‘You were staring at me through your opera glasses,’ Jane said after a moment. Her fright had subsided now and she was angry. ‘Did you arrange this incident...to gain my favour?’

  ‘You wrong me,’ he said and smiled oddly. ‘I was not privy to your intention to visit the warehouses of Master Morrison. I came only to complete a purchase myself.’ He tipped his hat. ‘Excuse me; I shall not impose on you a moment longer...’

  ‘No, please, stay,’ Jane said, realising that she had been rude. ‘I was shocked by that rogue’s attack—and it seemed so odd that you should stare at me last evening...’

  He laughed softly, his teeth gleaming against skin that had obviously been exposed to the sun often. ‘Does it surprise you that beauty such as yours should attract attention? Yet you asked me to tarry—may I be of some assistance?’

  ‘I came here by cab and need to summon another but I am not sure where to find one...’

  ‘You will not find one here, my lady,’ he said and inclined his head. ‘Captain Richard Hershaw at your service. My carriage waits for me. I shall instruct my driver to take you home...’

  ‘Oh, no, I could not impose on you,’ Jane said at once. ‘The warehouse manager will know where to hire a cab for me. I should have retained the last one but was not sure how long my business would take me.’

  ‘I would have thought it safer for a lady of your standing to come accompanied by your servants in your own carriage,’ Captain Hershaw said, a smile flickering in his eyes. ‘Yet I know that some ladies are of an independent mind and I understand that sometimes you may wish to be alone. Please, take my carriage. I am well able to find my own way home.’

  Jane hesitated for a moment and then thanked him. ‘You are kind, sir—and I have not been polite...’

  ‘Give me your address and I shall instruct my man,’ he said and walked over to the carriage. Jane followed and was helped inside. Captain Hershaw doffed his hat to her and the carriage moved off.

  She watched from the window and saw her rescuer walk into the warehouse. Leaning back against the squabs of the comfortable carriage, Jane closed her eyes for a moment. The small incident had alarmed her, but she would have been foolish to refuse the offer of a man who was obviously a gentleman.

  For a few moments wild ideas that he might have been trying to kidnap her ran through her mind and she wondered if she had been a fool to step willingly into his carriage, but they vanished as swiftly as they came. Some half an hour later, when the carriage stopped outside her brother’s house, Jane realised that she had indeed mistaken Captain Hershaw’s intentions.

  Of course he had not planned to rescue her from that brute or yet to kidnap her. It was, as he said, a coincidence that he had happened along at the right moment...and yet something lingered at the back of her mind, a suspicion that she was being duped in some way. She could not fathom the purpose if it had all been arranged, for had he wished to abduct her the opportunity had been his—so why did she feel it would be foolish to trust Captain Hershaw too much?

  * * *

  Caught up in the busy social whirl, Jane forgot the unpleasant incident at the warehouse over the next few days. She told no one that she’d been threatened, nor did she say anything of Captain Hershaw. When she found his calling card with the others in the hall, Jane made no mention of it. However, when her brother told her that he’d added the captain’s name to the list of guests they had invited to a musical evening, she asked him who the gentleman was and how Will came to know him.

  ‘Hershaw?’ Will wrinkled his brow. ‘He was introduced to me by a friend last evening at my club. I won five hundred guineas from him, Jane—so I thought the least I could do was invite him to dinner to make up for it.’

  ‘I did not think you gambled for high stakes?’

  ‘I do not often. It was a game of piquet. Although I seldom play for more than a few guineas, Hershaw suggested the stakes and I felt obliged to agree.’

  ‘I should not make a habit of it,’ Jane advised.

  ‘Have you heard something against the man? I did not think you knew him.’

  ‘We have met but once somewhere,’ Jane said. ‘I know nothing ill of him—but I would not trust him too far, Will.’

  ‘I am not a gambler, my love,’ Will said, ‘but I must offer the man a chance to regain his losses—it is a matter of honour, dearest one.’

  ‘Yes, I know...’ Jane sighed for she knew her words would fall on deaf ears. She feared that Captain Hershaw meant them no good but could not put her fears into words, for there was no reason behind her distrust—and Will would laugh if she said it was her womanly instinct.

  Jane wished that Lord Frant was in London. She could have asked him for his opinion and knew he would take her concerns seriously. How long did he intend to stay in Ireland? she wondered, and wished that she’d asked him, but their last meeting had been brief and she had not liked to press him. Jane had no claim on Lord Frant...but she would feel so much happier when he was home again.

  Melia had taken to going out with Miss Anne Smythe and her brother Captain Smythe, the g
odson of Sir Henry Clarke. They called for her in the mornings to go riding or shopping, and in the afternoon she was invited to tea at their house. Jane, her brother, Sarah and Melia were invited to dine for cards and music, and during the evening Lady Clarke spoke to Jane about her ward.

  ‘I believe you are dear Melia’s chaperon. You know her guardian well I understand?’

  ‘Yes, I know Lord Frant—and her aunt, Mrs Bellingham.’

  ‘I was wondering if she had a dowry?’ the lady said frankly. ‘My husband’s godson and heir is quite taken with her and I believe her to be of good family.’

  ‘I know nothing ill of her family,’ Jane said. ‘I understand her guardian settled a sum of money on her, but I am not at liberty to disclose it...’

  ‘No, of course not. I should not dream of asking. Of course my godson thinks it of no concern—but we like to do our best for our dear ones, do we not?’

  ‘Yes, certainly,’ Jane said. ‘Has Melia shown a particular interest in your godson?’

  ‘Has she said nothing of it to you?’ The lady sounded surprised. ‘They are forever in each other’s company. I thought you would have remarked it.’

  Jane shook her head. She’d seen Melia departing with her new friends but had given little thought to it, but if the girl had thoughts of marriage...surely she could not be so changeable? It was only a matter of weeks since she’d declared herself madly in love with Viscount Hargreaves. Had she given up all thought of him since he’d neglected to keep his promise and attend the duchess’s ball?

  Jane turned the conversation. She was not Melia’s guardian, merely her chaperon for a short time—and she almost wished that she had never agreed to bring the girl to town. Will would be hurt if she turned her attentions to the young captain. He must be feeling that Melia preferred almost anyone rather than he, and that must be hard to bear.

  Jane did not feel able to remonstrate with her guest. She did not wish to tell Melia where to bestow her affections. Indeed, if she were so shallow, it might be best if she married someone else. Will would be hurt but he would recover—if she married him and then turned her affections elsewhere it must be far worse. Better that his eyes should be opened to her failings now.

  Although she said nothing to Melia, Jane spoke to her brother the next morning. She had come down to breakfast early, as she often did, and found him already in the parlour. From his dress, he had been riding and returned with a good appetite.

  ‘Ah, I see you have been out already. I have agreed to go riding with Major Harding later—and I believe Sarah has promised Mama that she will call on her. I am not sure of Melia’s intentions...’

  ‘I understand she goes for a drive and then takes luncheon at the house of Sir Henry and Lady Clarke. Sir Henry is Captain Smythe’s godfather...’

  ‘We dined there last evening... It seems a little excessive to spend so much time in their company.’

  ‘I dare say Melia has her reasons...’

  ‘Will, dearest,’ Jane said, looking at him in concern. ‘His godmother asked me about her prospects last night...’

  ‘Am I to wish her happy then?’ A flicker of regret showed in his eyes. ‘I suspected as much when I saw the way he looked at her—he is besotted with her and, since he has his own fortune, I doubt his godmother will sway him against her.’

  ‘I am not sure she wished to—and it matters very little to me. It is you I am concerned for,’ Jane said. ‘I think Melia unkind to treat you so ill...’

  ‘She is in love with Hargreaves,’ Will said bleakly. ‘I asked her and she confessed it was so—but he will not marry her because she does not have enough fortune...’

  ‘Your fortune is surely large enough to satisfy her?’

  ‘You are wrong, Melia,’ Will said. ‘She told me that she was sorry but she could not offer me her heart and so would not marry me...because she likes me too well. I think she intends to marry John Smythe because he adores her and will not question her. Yet if Hargreaves were to offer, she would abandon all others...’

  ‘I am so sorry for your pain,’ Jane said and went to him, touching his hand. ‘I know you loved her.’

  ‘Yes. Perhaps I still do in a way, but the blinkers have fallen from my eyes, Jane, and I see her for the heartless creature she truly is.’ Will sighed. ‘Better now than if we had married... John Smythe is welcome if he can get her. I shall not envy him.’

  ‘Truly?’

  ‘Truly,’ he said and smiled at her. ‘I shall recover, Jane—and next time I shall make sure that the woman I give my heart to is worthy of it and can love me in return.’

  ‘You will feel easier in time...’

  ‘Do not think I suffer as you did when you lost Harry,’ Will said and kissed her cheek. He looked long into her eyes. ‘You have not seemed as happy as you were, dearest—is it Frant’s absence?’

  ‘Perhaps...yes,’ she admitted. ‘I did not think I could care deeply again, Will, but I think...’ She sighed and shook her head. ‘Oh, I am not sure. Perhaps I am foolish to hope that I might find love again. We are friends but he has given no sign of more.’

  ‘You think not? From what I have observed, I believe he truly cares for you,’ Will said and frowned. ‘Does he stay in Ireland much longer?’

  ‘He did not tell me of his plans—but I thought it was his intention to return, leaving the viscount there to oversee the young horses.’

  ‘He told me he will have his stables at his estate in Cambridgeshire. I think he hopes to race one of his horses at the autumn races.’

  ‘Then surely he will return soon,’ Jane said. ‘Now, before I go out I must speak with your housekeeper, Will, and make the arrangements for this evening.’

  ‘Yes, I would have everything as it ought to be, but I know I can leave that to you,’ Will said. ‘I shall leave you now and go up to change. I have business this morning—and this afternoon I have promised to take Sarah for a drive in the park...’

  Jane watched her brother leave the parlour and was thoughtful. Will had taken the news of Melia’s desertion more calmly than she’d believed possible. Could Sarah’s arrival in town have something to do with that—or was she being fanciful?

  * * *

  ‘I saw Frant this morning as I came to collect you,’ Major Harding said when they had been for a brisk canter about the park. ‘We acknowledged each other in passing but did not stop to speak. I shall call on him later and discover his plans—when he means to go down to the country.’

  ‘I did not know he had returned,’ Jane said and her heart skipped a beat. Paul was in town once more—and yet he had not sent word. Perhaps his smiles and soft words had been merely flirtation? Yes, she had been foolish to imagine more. They had such short acquaintance and love did not happen that way, did it? Jane had known Harry most of her life and loved him long before he asked her to marry him. ‘Had I known, I would have sent an invitation for this evening...’

  ‘I dare say he will call on you soon,’ Major Harding said and smiled. ‘I believe my old friend is much taken with you, Lady March. I have tried to steal a march on him while he was away, but I think I have not made much progress.’

  Jane lifted her clear gaze to him. ‘Your friendship gives me pleasure, sir.’

  ‘But your heart belongs to another,’ he replied and the look in his eyes was warm with affection. ‘Paul is my friend and I would not come between you for the world—but, should he let you down, know that I would stand in his stead and it would make me happy to have you for my wife.’

  ‘I think that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,’ Jane said. ‘Know that I value your friendship and would have it continue.’

  ‘I shall always wish to be of service—to you both...’

  Jane could only thank him. She liked and respected the major, who was an honourable man, but she loved Paul
Frant. His absence had revealed the truth to her and she could not wait to see him again.

  However, he did not call on her that afternoon, and in the evening Major Harding told her that he had spoken briefly with Lord Frant, who had told him that he would be in town only for a few days before he left for the country to set things in order at his estate.

  ‘Oh, I had thought he would be in town longer...’ Jane could not keep the disappointment from her voice, though she schooled herself not to show it in her expression. She must have been mistaken in him. The doubts had set in now and she scolded herself for having been a fool.

  ‘He will come.’ Major Harding pressed her hand and then frowned as he glanced across the room at a newcomer. ‘Hershaw here? I should not have expected to see that man at your house, Lady March.’

  ‘My brother invited him because he won a substantial sum from him the other evening.’

  ‘Then warn your brother to make sure he does not lose far more the next time they play...’

  ‘You do not trust him?’

  ‘I served with him in France for a time,’ Major Harding said. ‘He was accused of cheating at the tables by another officer and they were to fight a duel—but someone told the commander and Hershaw was sent off on a mission. I heard later that he had been sent to India...’

  ‘To India?’ Jane was suddenly alert. ‘What became of him there?’

  ‘I have no idea, but I believe he is still in the service, though why he has returned to England I do not know.’

  ‘I am glad you warned me. I did not trust him but could not give a reason to my brother—now I shall warn him at the first opportunity, but not this evening. Captain Hershaw is our guest and must be shown respect, but I would rather he was not invited again.’

  ‘Be careful of him, my lady.’ Major Harding frowned. ‘There was some scandal about one of the officers’ wives...’