‘Oh, my dearest,’ Jonathan said, and kissed me. His lips were warm and gentle, with none of the previous urgency. He pulled away. ‘I know who you are, and I love you. Desperately.’
He knelt on the woodland path and drew me to him, and I relaxed against him, resting my head against his lap and letting his gentle, pine-scented hands stroke my face and soothe me. I lay there a moment before he spoke again.
‘I am going to ask your father for your hand,’ he said suddenly. ‘I will not wait ten years, I cannot. If you will have me now, though it may be difficult, we can marry. Poverty be damned.’
I bit my lip again, remembering Lord Stanton’s offer.
‘I… wish for the same,’ I breathed gently, looking up into his widened eyes. ‘But there are matters that must be discussed.’
‘Our fathers, yes.’
‘No.’ I shook my head, for I cared naught what our fathers said. I was breeding out of wedlock, and there was nothing that my father could say that would change it.
‘I must speak with Lord Stanton.’
His eyes narrowed, and I could see suspicion grow in their depths. ‘Why?’
What could I say? Had I not repeatedly promised my discretion to Lord Stanton? I could not tell Jonathan that I needed to speak to His Lordship about his offer. ‘It is nothing much of import, just my employ. Mayhap he will keep me employed after we marry, so that we have another income to assist in fixing the cottage.’
Abruptly, Jonathan’s eyes hardened. ‘I shall provide for you, Martha. You need not remain at Stanton.’
I said nothing to this, lest Jonathan begin to feel I thought him incapable. So for a quiet moment or two, we remained as we were on the path. After a time, Jonathan began to speak tentatively of some of the renovations he’d begun on the house, then the sound of footfall indicated Stanton and the physician’s return.
‘Miss Swan?’ The fragile but purposeful voice broke our musing. I looked around and saw the elderly physician who frequented Stanton. He was, quite frankly, an unpleasant character to look upon, though evidently very good at his craft.
‘His Lordship has told me you fainted,’ he said, peering down at me with watery blue eyes.
‘Yes,’ I agreed.
‘Did you strike your head upon landing?’ he asked briskly, opening his cracked leather bag and shuffling through for something. He pulled forth a pair of spectacles that looked like they’d seen better days. He placed them on and peered at me once again. Jonathan’s hand tightened on mine.
‘You are looking pale,’ the doctor commented, and reached forth, placing his thumb on my eyelid and hauling it up so as to examine my eyeball. ‘His Lordship has told me you’re with child, is that true?’ he asked.
I felt Jonathan’s hand spasm, and heard his sharp, shocked inhalation.
My throat felt choked and I all I could do was nod dumbly.
‘How far along?’ he asked, taking my wrist now and feeling for the pulsing of my heart. ‘Well?’ he snapped.
‘I… I don’t know,’ I stammered.
‘What does he mean, Martha?’ Jonathan’s voice was weak.
I sent a stricken glance to Lord Stanton, who shrugged, clearly not concerned that my lover had just discovered my condition. Jonathan must have noticed our interaction, because he tensed. ‘Stanton… is this you?’ he growled, his voice raw.
‘Jonathan…’ I began to speak, but was silenced by a grumble of the physician, who was now counting under his breath and glancing at his watch. We all remained silent a moment, as he leaned in and listened to my breathing.
‘Excuse me, madam, if I may just feel your abdomen…’ His hands moved to my lower abdomen and he pressed gently there, no doubt feeling for the child that grew.
‘Well, she seems fine enough. In need of rest, no doubt. Take her back to the house, and I’ll come by in a few days to ensure she remains well, and to examine her breeding state again.’
‘Thank you, Mr Cole. If you would return to the house and see Evans, he will sort out your account. Again, my thanks for your trouble.’
The old physician nodded. ‘Of course, My Lord.’ He then stood, packed his spectacles back into his bag and turned and resumed his walk back to the house.
After a moment or two, I made to stand, and on this occasion I was assisted by both the gentlemen. I took a quick glance at Mr Reeves to find his face tight and his lips a thin, furious line. Lord Stanton had begun to affect the bored air gentlemen of means often do when confronted with the potentially awkward.
I wanted to speak with Jonathan alone, but he spoke before I had chance.
‘Stanton. Is Miss Swan with your child?’ he asked, his voice cold. ‘If I find you’ve abused her, I swear it man, I shall kill you.’
Stanton turned slowly to face Jonathan’s enraged countenance. For a moment they stood face-to-face, a mere arms-breadth apart, before Stanton erupted with abrupt laughter.
‘My child? Good God man, what kind of beast do you think I am?’
‘The kind who goes about dishonouring women whenever the chance avails itself! You’ve a reputation as foul as the Thames and you know it.’
‘Stop, Jonathan, you’re quite mistaken…’ I pleaded, before he said anything too unforgiveable and make Lord Stanton feel uncharitable towards us.
Lord Stanton’s face had uncharacteristically hardened at the insult, and I expected his wrath. Yet he surprised me. ‘Because I know of your attachment to Miss Swan, Reeves, I shall forgive you that slight. The child is not mine; you have my word. I have never shown the slightest interest in your lady friend.’
Mr Reeves looked stricken, clearly torn betwixt wanting to believe him and wanting to throttle him.
‘It’s true, Jonathan. I would never behave in such a manner with my employer. Do you think I am that kind of woman? To even suggest it is wounding,’ I said, momentarily filled with righteous indignation. I instantly regretted my words. Indeed what kind of woman was I? I was a foolish harlot. A harlot who’d seduced Jonathan Reeves on a whim, and gotten herself with child. I was the worst kind of woman, loose, debauched and ruined. I was the very woman Hester Chapone warned her readers about.
I realised then how I must appear in Jonathan’s eyes, and tears of hot shame burned in my eyes. I could not help but give a sob.
I felt a gentle hand upon my shoulder then. ‘Oh my darling, my innocent. It’s not what I think of you, but what I thought of him,’ Jonathan said. ‘I thought he had seduced you, used you, and got you with child against your will.’
Lord Stanton scoffed. ‘I am glad to be held so high in your estimation, Reeves.’
Stanton’s jocularity, however, was lost on us. ‘Oh, Jonathan!’ I wailed, ‘I am not an innocent, you must discard that notion. I seduced you. I was so shamefully, wickedly curious that I’ve ruined myself!’
‘Well, well, Miss Swan,’ Lord Stanton laughed at my impassioned admission. ‘You are quite the dark horse indeed.’
I saw Jonathan throw His Lordship an angry glare and I sobbed even louder. Jonathan swept me into his arms. ‘I adore you. You are no more wicked than I. Thus we should be very well-suited and shall make an excellent match of it. I shall marry you, and claim our child. Never mind the finances, we will be well.’ He kissed my head. ‘I shall go and speak with my cousin post-haste and arrange a marriage license.’
He looked at Lord Stanton then, his face colouring. ‘My most sincere apologies for the insult, My Lord – you must understand, your reputation precedes you, and very poorly at that. I seem to lose my head when matters concern Miss Swan.’
‘Indeed, I accept your apology. I’ve found myself in similar circumstances on occasion, ’ Stanton replied with a smile. ‘Now, before you rush off to find a vicar and wed this shockingly wicked girl,’ he winked at me, in a fashion I believe was in jest but which merely made me weep afresh. ‘There are matters that must be discussed.’
Jonathan frowned. ‘And what matters are those?’ he asked.
I ha
d a terribly sick feeling that Stanton, although he alleged to forgive Mr Reeves’ slight, may wish to revoke his previous offer to me.
‘This is indeed not the time nor place to discuss it, so I invite you back to Stanton for a port. I’ve spent far too long out of doors this morning. It’s damnably hot and I’ve a raging thirst.’
I felt myself shiver.
‘If it pleases you, My Lord, we shall be honoured,’ Jonathan replied, clearly unable to hide his curiosity and sharing a confused glance with me.
****
As we walked the not-inconsiderable distance back to Stanton, we took our time. I was not feeling at all well, and the gentlemen appeared anxious not to have me repeat my collapse. Both hovered near, carefully analysing my every step for any hint of weakness. I knew there was a great deal that Jonathan wished to discuss, but we remained quiet, as did Lord Stanton. It was a peculiar silence in which we found ourselves, the air betwixt us all weighted with expectation. I believed I knew what Stanton wished to discuss; I simply could not guess how he was to phrase it. I found myself uncomfortable with renewed nerves.
At length we were ushered into Stanton’s sitting room. Sinclair the handsome footman was surprised to see us, no doubt. I had left the house looking fine and groomed, and now my dress was stained from its unfortunate encounter with the ground and my straw hat was bent beyond repair. He raised a perplexed eyebrow in my direction, and I offered a rueful smile. There was a comfortable camaraderie betwixt the members of staff in Stanton, and I felt a small glow of warmth that I was now included in it.
This was my first occasion in Stanton’s private sitting room, and I recognised the room as a deeply masculine space. The rich aroma of his cigars hung limp in the air, and drifts of sunlight streamed through the window. I found myself strangely at ease in this foreign room. I looked about and saw glass china cabinets filled with artefacts and precious things. I felt the familiar burn of curiosity flicker to life within me, despite my dire circumstances. I yearned to know where these items hailed from, for I had never seen such exotic items outside a museum. I hovered beside a glass containing some peculiar-shaped stones.
‘Those are spearheads, Miss Swan, from the savages of New Holland. Fascinating, aren’t they?’
I leapt back, ashamed once more of my unnatural curiosity.
‘Curiosity is not a crime, Miss Swan,’ Lord Stanton said softly, as if he somehow knew my inner thoughts. ‘No matter what your books say.’
I looked at him then. How could he possibly know what ladies’ books said on the matter of female curiosity?
He offered me a lovely, gentle smile, one that seemed so at odds with the rake and philanderer I’d long understood him to be. He gestured for me to sit, and I could feel Jonathan hover behind me.
With hushed instructions, Stanton sent Sinclair for tea, whilst he poured himself and Jonathan a port. The two gentlemen eyed each other solemnly and offered a silent toast, whilst I awaited my tea. I noticed that His Lordship also had a not-insignificant bookshelf to the rear of the room, which I had little doubt was filled with the most fascinating and lascivious of books.
At length, my tea was supplied, and Sinclair was duly dismissed. Stanton sank down into a deep leather lounging chair, sipped his port, and studied us both.
‘I fear, Miss Swan, that I must revoke my earlier offer,’ he said eventually, those eyes sparkling now with growing mischief. Jonathan stiffened beside me, surprised and no doubt affronted by the manner in which the statement was posed.
I stammered awkwardly, as I comprehended his words. He was revoking his offer? It meant he had chosen not to support me, and, as we were to be married, he must mean Mr Reeves as well. Had Jonathan’s terseness caused this abrupt change in opinion? I wanted to weep. I would have this child in wedlock to be sure – I knew Jonathan would honour me – but we would indeed live in poverty. I thought back to the dilapidated cottage and wondered madly how I could possibly make it liveable before the birth of the child with the meagre finances Mr Reeves and I would have at hand.
I could feel those sparkling eyes watching, and I could sense Mr Reeves’ confusion. ‘What offer was this?’ he asked, the frown audible in his voice.
Lord Stanton smiled. ‘I am fond of Miss Swan, as are my wife and children. In light of her unfortunate condition, I had made an offer of protection to her, so that she would not fall into destitution.’
Jonathan inhaled slightly. ‘That… that… was very kind of you,’ he stammered.
Stanton released a light guffaw. ‘It was, wasn’t it? Now, in light of your marriage proposal, I see my offer is now redundant, as you will no doubt take care of her.’
Jonathan’s face contorted with a grimace, but he nodded. ‘I shall.’
‘Excellent.’ Stanton clapped his hands in evident approval.
I felt so ill, dear reader, so terribly ill and torn. I was so glad to be marrying Jonathan, but our financial pains were severe. What sort of a life would we be able to provide our child? I had hoped, in some small way, that in light of my discretion and loyalty I would still be given recompense by Lord Stanton – now I saw I was mistaken.
There was a terribly long and overdrawn pause, in which Lord Stanton lit a cigar and puffed at it cheerfully. I bit my lip; my eyes were burning with frustration. I would not mention the compensation to Lord Stanton with Jonathan in hearing, for I had given him my word that I would never divulge his secrets, but desperately wanted to say something, anything!
‘You are too much a lady, Miss Swan!’ Lord Stanton abruptly barked, and fell into fits of laughter. ‘You are a rarity amongst women, are you not?’ He laughed at some private, no doubt inappropriate joke.
I heard Jonathan’s sharp intake of breath. ‘Are you making jest at Miss Swan’s condition, Sir?’ he grated, his fine face dark with fury. ‘For despite her ruination – at my hand, I may add – Miss Swan is the finest woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to encounter! I will allow no besmirching of her name.’
My heart swelled with warmth.
Lord Stanton roared all the louder, ‘I am very glad to hear it! Drink, drink, Mr Reeves,’ he said when he regained his composure. ‘I do not mean to besmirch this lovely lady, far from it. I have never met a more exemplary employee. It is for this reason, amongst others, that I would like to speak with you alone, as her betrothed.’
The warmth melted away and my belly turned to ice.
‘Dear Miss Swan, if you would be so kind as to give us a moment to converse?’
I could scarcely deny the gentleman, so with one last pained glance at Jonathan’s confused expression I bobbed and swept from the room.
Chapter 9
It seemed Lord Stanton and Jonathan were in that sitting room an interminably long time. I paced, and I waited, wretched in my room. After a long time, Jenny knocked upon my door and informed me that Mr Reeves was due to depart the house.
At this I flew from my room. What had Stanton said? What had happened in that room?
Lord Stanton had just farewelled Mr Reeves, and offered me an insouciant wink before he strode back into his sitting room, closing the door firmly behind himself.
The rogue! What had he done?
As I approached Jonathan, he was rubbing wearily at his temples as if he suffered great pain.
‘Mr Reeves?’ I spoke softly and tapped his arm. At my voice he spun around, his eyes dazed.
‘Martha …’ he whispered.
I searched his face for meaning, but found myself unable to discern anything from his peculiar gaze.
‘What has happened?’ I whispered, the all-too familiar churning of my belly sending me weak.
‘He said he wishes to start up a law company in the village,’ Jonathan began dazedly. ‘He wishes me to be the house solicitor.’
My heart lurched. ‘He does?’
‘Indeed, he will finance the business as a silent partner. I shall employ who I wish, and charge as I wish. Naturally we shall share the profits but… I cannot belie
ve it, Martha!’
‘This is wonderful!’ I cried, and my hand tightened around his arm. I found myself thanking the absent Lord Stanton most heartily.
‘He has said that the village has long needed a solicitor to deal with tenancies and inheritances and the like, and he believes I should be that solicitor. He thanked me most earnestly for all my work with his own tenants and wished that I accept his offer.’
I hesitated. ‘You have accepted, have you not?’
‘Of course,’ he grinned boyishly. ‘But that is not all…’
‘It is not?’ I was still, unable to nod for fear I may weep, so grateful was I to Lord Stanton.
‘He has said that he will send his labourers to mend our house, as the village solicitor must live in a suitable property to garner the esteem of the village. He’s quite right, I think. His Lordship also suggested he will give me the house and land as a gift – though this I could not accept. I shall indeed pay him the sum for the land and house when we have means.’
I did weep then, thanking once again Lord Stanton for keeping his promise to protect me, through giving my beloved Jonathan the means to do it.
****
We spent the rest of the day together, as one may imagine we might, in celebration and joy. You see, dearest reader, that when I retired to my room some hours ago, I found my circumstances immeasurably improved from when I woke this morning. I shall be married within the month if Mr Reeves has his way, and during that time His Lordship has hired carpenters to fix our little cottage as Mr Reeves develops his business.
I could not have imagined such an outcome.
My candle is close to burning out, and my hand cramps with pain, yet still I feel no exhaustion. I have thoughts and reflections aplenty all clamouring for my attention.
Of course, there are matters that still need to be dealt with – a letter to my parents is an awkward necessity, and a firm discussion with the incorrigible Mrs Reeves is most pressing on my mind. Still, all this aside I am a woman well-pleased her lot.
The Observations of a Curious Governess Page 13