She broke off with a sad frown. Jane drew in a long breath. “Yes. She was lovely. I miss her still. But you know of that pain. I am sorry for your own recent loss, my lady.”
The other woman tilted her head in acknowledgment of Jane’s sympathy, but then she seemed to push those more painful subjects away.
“But now you are here,” Lady Bledsoe said with a quick motion around Lady Ridgefield’s sitting room. “And Lady Ridgefield speaks very highly of you.”
Jane crinkled her brow, confused. Lady Bledsoe seemed to have some kind of purpose in this unexpected exchange, but Jane could not yet determine it.
“My employer is very kind, but I am surprised that the subject would come up. I am…I’m very happy working for her,” she added, on the chance that Lady Bledsoe was somehow trying to steal her away from Lady Ridgefield.
Wouldn’t that be the perfect addition to her strange situation? If Lady Bledsoe knew Jane had been kissing her only son, she might not be so friendly and accommodating.
But Her Ladyship only chuckled. “I am not looking for a companion, dear Jane. I asked for a different purpose entirely.”
“My lady?”
“My son, Nicholas,” she said with a smile.
The entire room around her faded away as Jane stared at the woman before her. Lady Bledsoe was looking at her with a bland expression, entirely unreadable. But she was also waiting, expecting Jane to respond in some way to her shocking statement.
“Lord Stoneworth, you mean,” she said, her voice little more than a harsh, shaky whisper.
Lady Bledsoe’s expression pinched a moment, just as Nicholas’s always did when he was called by that title.
“It is hard for me to think of him as that, but yes. He is Lord Stoneworth now. And he tells me that he knows you.”
Now Jane’s eyes were wide, almost painfully so. Lady Bledsoe was talking to her with such knowing certainty, with such a conspiratorial gleam in her eye that Jane could not believe it. This woman knew about Jane’s arrangement with Nicholas. There was no other explanation for her sudden interest, her hints that the two of them had a deeper relationship, her implications that her son had revealed something to her.
“I-I—” she stammered.
“Something about your cousin or your brother,” she murmured, almost more to herself. Jane flinched, her hunch now further confirmed.
“My lady, I do not know what you must think of me,” Jane blurted out, unable to contain herself any longer. “I’m sure you cannot approve, but Nicho—” She gasped in horror at her slip and quickly corrected herself. “But Lord Stoneworth and I came to an agreement. I am training him in exchange for his help. I swear to you it is not a bargain of the flesh or—”
Lady Bledsoe now stared at her like she had sprouted a second head. Her lips parted as Jane continued to ramble, until finally she lifted a hand to silence her.
“Wait. Am I to understand that you are training my son”—her voice dropped as she cast a quick glance around the room—“to become a gentleman?”
Jane stopped midsentence as horror washed over her. She had assumed Her Ladyship knew the truth from her demeanor and the way she had phrased her initial mention of Jane and Nicolas’s relationship. But now…
“Lady Bledsoe…”
The other woman shook her head. “Come with me, Jane. We must find a private room where we can talk.”
Chapter 10
Jane wrung her hands as she followed Lady Bledsoe into one of Lady Ridgefield’s unoccupied parlors. As the door clicked shut behind her, it was as if she were being led to an execution.
And perhaps it was in a way. If Her Ladyship was angry about the strange arrangement between Jane and her son, she had the power to utterly destroy Jane if she chose to. Lady Ridgefield might even be forced to terminate her employment. Without a reference, she could easily be out on the street.
And Jane could hardly bear to think about Nicholas. He had made it clear more than once that his parents were the last people in the world he wanted to be aware of his attempt at transformation. He would be livid when he heard what she had done.
With all those thoughts plaguing her, Jane turned, expecting to find a furious, cold marchioness staring back. Instead, Lady Bledsoe was…beaming. Her dark eyes were lit up with joy and her cheeks were pink with pleasure. Instead of looking like the powerful, distinguished woman she was, she seemed more like an excited schoolgirl.
“Oh, my dear, you do not know how happy this news makes me,” she gushed as she reached out and caught both of Jane’s hands.
Jane stared in wonder, too dumbstruck to formulate any kind of reasonable reply.
Not that the marchioness seemed to expect or desire one. She continued to speak, almost in one interrupted sentence. More like Lady Ridgefield than her normally calm and refined self.
“No one must know, of course, for this arrangement is most unorthodox. If you were found out, it could damage you both. Trust Nicholas to pick a beautiful woman to be his guide.” She rolled her eyes. “But it matters little. He is making things right. He is coming back to us.”
Jane bit her lip. There was no way she could deny what she had already revealed. And when she looked at Lady Bledsoe’s face, which had been so sad and somber since her son’s death, Jane couldn’t bear to snatch away the other woman’s happiness, even to protect herself. It wasn’t right to change Lady Bledsoe’s good humor with any facts about what a difficult charge Nicholas was.
Or what an excellent kisser.
“Do say something, dear, you are so pale, you’re beginning to frighten me,” Lady Bledsoe said, leaning in closer.
Jane shook her head. “My lady, in my nervousness in speaking to you, I made a poor assumption that somehow you knew the truth about my arrangement with your son. But I should not have revealed it.”
“Why not?” Lady Bledsoe said with a smile. “It is the best news I have had in an age.”
“Because it was not my secret to tell,” Jane insisted, pacing away from the bubbling marchioness.
That seemed to affect Nicholas’s mother, for she stopped chattering and sighed. “Yes. I suppose that is true.”
“He will be so angry at me for revealing this. And to you.” She gave Lady Bledsoe an apologetic glance. “You of all people. He made it clear he didn’t want anyone to know of his attempt.”
“Nicholas and his father have long been…strained.” Lady Bledsoe was serious now. “But you didn’t tell me this to harm him, did you?”
“No!”
“So you did not reveal his secret with malicious intent?”
“Of course not!”
“Then you have nothing to be sorry about.” She smiled as if that were the last word on the subject.
“But I broke his confidence nonetheless,” Jane insisted, distress taking over her with increasing urgency. She covered her eyes as she sank into the nearest chair.
Lady Bledsoe rushed to her side and took her hands. “There is a simple solution to this, Jane.”
She lifted her gaze, willing to hear anything that would soften the blow when she revealed what she’d done to Nicholas. “Yes?”
“Don’t tell him.”
Jane’s mouth dropped open in shock. That was the one suggestion she hadn’t been expecting. And she found it tempting, indeed.
But still…
“Lie to him, you mean?” Jane whispered.
It would certainly make her life easier. But she had spent the last few years being lied to. “Protected,” so many people had said. And every time she uncovered the truth, she felt like a fool. It was the worst feeling in the world to know someone she believed she could trust was playing her for false.
And with what she already knew of Nicholas, she was certain his feelings on the matter would be the same.
“It is a small lie,” his mother reasoned. “One that will not hurt him, for I will not tell his father. And his father is the real issue for Nicholas.”
Her mouth turned down wi
th regret.
“It doesn’t seem right.” Jane stared past Lady Bledsoe to the low fire across the room.
The marchioness’s gaze snagged hers. Jane felt the full force of her scrutiny, as if the lady had a sudden notion she was now trying to prove by a thorough examination of Jane’s expression. Then the other woman smiled, this time reassuringly.
“I understand why you hesitate and I commend you for your honesty when it comes to my son. Under any other circumstances, I would agree with you that he should know the truth. But I—”
Now she hesitated, and Jane found herself leaning forward.
“I’m sure you do not know this, but I lost several children at birth. The twins were our miracle after years of heartbreak and pain.”
Jane gasped. These private losses were rarely spoken of outside a family, and a swell of pity rose in her chest. “I am so very sorry, my lady.”
Lady Bledsoe swallowed, fighting back tears. “When Nicholas left us, it tore me apart. Since then, he has been little more than a ghost in my life. Passing through from time to time, but always distant. After his brother died, he was all I had left. I long to renew our relationship.”
Jane nodded. She understood the other woman’s feelings. Being alone in the world, watching those she loved fade away, was the greatest pain imaginable.
“All I ask is that you keep this secret, at least for a little while. Let me share in what you are doing, perhaps I can even help my son, without interfering, of course. It would mean a great deal to me.” Lady Bledsoe squeezed her hands again, gently. “Please?”
Jane found herself nodding. She couldn’t help it. The other woman’s plea was just too close to her own heart to deny. And perhaps having a silent ally in her dealings with Nicholas would make it easier. If not that, it could serve as a sharp reminder of propriety whenever she was tempted to give in to his kisses.
“Thank you,” Lady Bledsoe said with a wide smile. “And perhaps I can be of assistance to you, too. Use my influence on your behalf.”
Jane pushed to her feet. “My lady, I have not done any of this to gain influence, I assure you.”
Lady Bledsoe straightened up and looked at her evenly. Then she nodded. “Very well. Now we must hurry back to the party before Lady Ridgefield and the others notice my absence and begin asking questions. But before we go back, there are a few things I think you must know about Nicholas.”
“Yes?” Jane found herself leaning closer, desperate for insight into the man who affected her so keenly.
“First, my son may look gruff and behave with little manners, but he is kind. He would sacrifice his own life to save another or give away all he had if it would help someone else.”
Jane blinked. That certainly did not describe the feral, prowling man she had been meeting with. A man who refused to help her unless she paid a high price in exchange. So perhaps this statement was a mother’s wishful thinking.
Or perhaps there was more to Nicholas Stoneworth than what she had seen so far.
“Secondly, I realize he resists becoming all his brother was.” Lady Bledsoe frowned, deep sadness darkening her eyes. “I assume he is not an easy pupil in that regard. But it is not out of spite. It is out of grief. Those boys were best friends, brothers in the deepest sense of the word. Even after Nicholas parted ways with good society and his father, he and Anthony remained close. His brother’s death weighs heavily upon him.”
That Jane could agree to. She nodded as she thought of the pain she had seen Nicholas display. Sometimes he attempted to mask it with anger, but the pain lingered. Harsh and raw and deep.
“Finally, you must know that he is a frustrating, willful man, but I ask you not to give up on him.” Lady Bledsoe held her stare. “I’m afraid his father did. But I ask you not to do so, no matter how difficult he makes this for you.”
Jane’s eyes widened. As she and Lady Bledsoe stood, hands clutched, staring at each other, it seemed the other woman was speaking of things far deeper than her training of Nicholas.
“Jane? Jane?”
The two women broke apart as Lady Ridgefield burst into the room with a smile. “There you are, my dear. And Lady Bledsoe, I have been missing you, as well.”
Her Ladyship smiled kindly at Lady Ridgefield. “Your lovely companion was good enough to give me a tour of your home, my lady. It is a beautiful estate. Did you pick out these stunning moldings yourself?”
As Lady Ridgefield launched into an explanation of her taste in art and decor, she moved into the hallway. Lady Bledsoe trailed behind her, but not before she sent a quick, meaningful glance to Jane. And then the two women were gone, mere echoing voices in the hallway.
With a weary sigh, Jane sank back into the chair she had been occupying. Suddenly her training of Nicholas had taken on a much deeper meaning, with far higher stakes. A twinge of shame made Jane flinch. She had entered her agreement with Nicholas as a means to find her brother. She hadn’t even really cared if she helped him, giving him up for a lost cause almost before they started.
But now it was time to renew her focus. Perhaps she could truly help this man. Even if she never recovered the remains of her own fractured family, perhaps by helping him she could repair his.
The idea of that brought some peace to her tangled, out-of-sorts mind. She had to have imagined the deeper meaning when Lady Bledsoe told her not to give up on Nicholas. All Her Ladyship could have meant was his training. There could be nothing more to it than that, for she was no longer a part of the world he would one day conquer.
A fact she needed to remember.
“Can you trust your servants?”
Nicholas looked up from his mind-numbing study of the latest copy of Debrett’s. Jane had brought the book of influential families with her tonight as part of his lesson on proper address. The names and titles were beginning to swim together, as were her short, curt descriptions of who the families were.
“Why?” he asked as he rubbed his eyes.
When the fog cleared, he examined Jane more closely, but she wasn’t looking at him. She sat across the room, as far away as was humanly possible. As she stared out the window to the darkened gardens behind the house, it was almost as if he wasn’t there at all.
That was how she had been all night. Polite, yes. Helpful, yes. But this was the first time he truly felt like she was nothing more than his teacher and he, her student.
He shouldn’t have cared about that, but he did. Her resistance only made her all the more fascinating and made his desire to press her all the greater.
“It might help if we could involve at least some of your staff in your training,” Jane explained with a quick glance his way. She turned her face just as quickly when she saw he was staring at her. “You will require lessons on dining and dancing, and those would be far easier with someone to set the table and accompany us on a pianoforte.”
Nicholas pushed to his feet, stretching his back and neck as he considered her question. Beyond not stealing the silver, he hadn’t really considered the trustworthiness of his servants before. He didn’t care if tales were spread about him…or at least he hadn’t until Lucinda shamed him. And as long as their duties were done, he didn’t really care what the men and women in his employ did in their free time.
But now he thought of each person, picturing their faces, imagining the actions he’d seen them take in the past six months. It was easy enough to make judgments based upon those brief interactions. He had learned to be a good assessor of character early on in his days in the underground. If he hadn’t been, he would have been dead.
“Well, Gladwell, despite his piss-poor attitude in general, is trustworthy to a fault. And he is the leader in how the others behave.” He shrugged. “As for the cook, Mrs. Fieldframe, she is gruff, but I’ve heard rumors that she can be kindly when no one is looking. I cannot imagine her breaking a confidence or doing something to purposefully ruin either one of us.”
Jane stood up now and moved to the window. Her back was to
him, so he could not read her face, but her body was rigid as she stared outside into the dark.
“They both think I am a whore.”
Her statement surprised him. After only mild resistance, Jane had agreed to his proposal, although their clandestine meetings put her at great risk for ruination. Never had he heard her complain about it, or ponder aloud the consequences of their bargain. Somehow he had always imagined Jane to be above those worries. She was no longer out in Society, after all.
He moved a step closer. “Do you care?”
She hesitated, and there was a long moment of silence while she pondered that question. She turned her face and provided him a glimpse of her profile. Her mouth was drawn down and her eyebrows knitted together.
“I wouldn’t have in the past, but now I am a part of their society. I suppose it does bother me that they look down upon me with such contempt.”
“Do you really consider yourself a part of the servant class?” Nicholas asked in further surprise. When he looked at Jane, even with her serviceable gowns and plain hairstyles, he always saw a graceful and refined lady.
“I am,” Jane insisted. “There is no denying that. I accept money in exchange for my services. I do what Lady Ridgefield desires. Despite my true affection for her, and I believe hers for me, we are not friends. I am her employee.” She paused with a frown. “And yet despite all that, I do not fully fit. Not in the servant world. And not in what was once my own.”
“Like me.” Nicholas was an arm’s length away from her now. He had the strangest urge to reach out and touch her, comfort her. But that seemed too intimate, too close. Even kissing her seemed less personal.
She turned at his statement, and when she saw how near he was, her eyes widened. “Yes, I suppose that is true.”
She fidgeted her hands behind her back and refused to look at him. Nicholas frowned.
“You are nervous,” he said softly. “Why?”
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