A footman came to take Lady Stanier’s cloak as Sarah came through the door. At the same moment a tall gentleman pushed his way through the patrons.
“Ah—welcome, Lady Sarah. I’ve been waiting for your arrival. Did you bring—?”
Sarah did not answer his greeting. She simply stood aside to reveal Jane just stepping over the threshold. There were murmurs of admiration and interest from the spectators, whose attention had been drawn to the door by the man’s loud greeting. He stopped as he saw Jane, as though he too was rapt with admiration. Indeed there was every reason for him to be, for Jane presented a breathtaking picture of regal loveliness, framed there in the doorway.
The small, anticipatory smile slowly faded from her lips and her eyes widened in shock, as every trace of her usual vivid colour faded from her face.
For there, directly before her, stood the one man she had hoped never to see again in her life. There was Leach!
She felt turned to ice in an instant and was aware of a faint sizzling sound in her ears. Leach recovered himself and advanced toward her, hand held out, smiling broadly.
“Well, well, this is an honour—er—Lady Payton,” he said, emphasizing her tide very slightly, and raising his eyebrow at her as though they shared a secret joke.
She drew back, staring in revulsion at the hand held out to her. Then suddenly she felt a flash of heat over her entire body, as though her very blood boiled. She had never experienced such rage in all her life. Two livid patches of red stained her cheeks and her sherry-coloured eyes turned nearly black. She raised her chin, stared at him with loathing, and then, without speaking, spun on her heel so quickly the sable cloak belled out around her, and walked back out the door.
Lady Stanier quickly removed her own cloak from the hands of the riveted footman. “Come, Sarah,” she said and started for the door. Behind her she thought she heard the man utter something as Sarah moved to follow her. She turned back to see Sarah pulling her arm from the man’s grasp.
“Oh—I—you go along, Lady Stanier. I’ll join the Davanets for a short time. Just send my carriage back and tell Jane I will speak to her tomorrow,” Sarah said with an attempt at lightness. But her eyes seemed to be pleading, and behind her, a dangerous glitter in his eyes, the man scowled ferociously. Lady Stanier merely nodded to Sarah and left.
In the carriage she found Jane huddled into her furs in the farthest corner, shaking uncontrollably.
“My dearest! What is it?” Lady Stanier pulled Jane into her arms. Jane made no answer, only burrowed close against her, shuddering. Lady Stanier ordered the coachman to take them to Payton House and they moved off. Lady Stanier held Jane tightly and wordlessly all the way home. Once there, she took her directly to the back drawing room, ordering a much concerned Crews to bring some brandy there. A fire still burned briskly in the fireplace, and Lady Stanier pressed Jane into the large chair before it.
When Crews brought the brandy, Lady Stanier poured out a generous portion and handed it to Jane. “Now, my love, I don’t know what is wrong, but I can see you’ve had a shock, so you’ll just get this down and sit quite quietly before you say a word,” she ordered.
Jane obediently extended a white-gloved hand from beneath her fur cloak and took the glass. She sipped it slowly, staring into the flames, and gradually the livid red patches on her cheeks faded and a more normal colour returned to her white face. Finally she set the glass aside and sighed.
“That—was Leach,” she said, “and it was not shock so much as rage. I felt quite—quite murderous. I think if I had held a weapon I might have killed him at that moment.”
“Leach? But—but—I don’t understand. I thought he was the Montmorency’s butler.”
“No longer, evidently,” Jane replied drily. “No doubt he managed to put aside a great deal of money besides his wages during the years he worked for the Montmorencys. He was absolute ruler there, you know, even Lady Montmorency hardly dared to go against him in domestic matters. There’s a lot to be made in such a position by a dishonest servant.”
“But how could Sarah patronize such a man?”
“Oh, the Montmorencys thought very highly of him. And you know how restless Sarah is—always looking for something new.”
“Hmmm—and she has been urging you to accompany her there?”
“Yes. I have been wondering about that also in the past few moments.”
“I’m wondering if it was at his prompting.”
“How could he have known we were friends?”
“Oh, that is easy enough. You are out around town with her quite often. He must have seen you with her and recognized you and suggested she bring you.”
“But why should she want to oblige him?”
“Dear one, I have heard she plays rather deep. Perhaps her debt to him is great enough for him to make such a suggestion. Even to demand it.”
“But what can be his motive?”
“With such a degenerate character it is impossible to guess his motive. Perhaps only the urge to strut his new status before you, or his sly way to let you know he had recognized you. I hope it is nothing more.”
“More! What do you mean?” Jane asked in alarm.
“Well, it is possible he hopes to extort something from you based on his knowledge of your background.”
“Money, do you mean?”
“Or perhaps your patronage as a wealthy titled woman who might draw others, give him more respectability.”
“He will not have it! Never! Nor money either! I would never give him a penny of Payton money!”
“Darling, be calm. It is more than likely nothing will come of it After all, it could not be to his advantage to expose you, and he doesn’t strike me as a man who does anything that is not to his advantage.”
Jane sat very still for a long time, staring unseeingly at Lady Stanier as she thought about it. Finally she sighed and slumped back into the chair.
“I hope you are right. Oh, I should never have taken this chance and come to London. Perhaps I should just go back. Take Clinton and go.”
“Yes, I suppose running away would be one answer,” replied Lady Stanier noncommittally.
“It would be for Clinton’s sake. I’d be a coward for his sake if necessary!” Jane flung at her, hurt by the implication.
“My dear, forgive me. I should not have said that. Especially now when you are so distraught. We will work something out, I assure you. I think the first thing you must do is go to your bed. The whole thing will seem much less daunting in the morning. Then I think you should speak to Sarah and find out whether he did ask her to bring you there. It may very well be that he didn’t do so. It is possible that he didn’t recognize you at all. You have changed a great deal since he last saw you, don’t forget.”
It was a ray of hope, and feeble though it was, Jane grasped it gratefully. Yes, she thought, I must speak to Sarah.
20
Speaking to Sarah, however, proved, mysteriously, easier to decide upon than to accomplish.
As Lady Stanier had predicted, the morning light cast a clearer, less heated, view of the previous evening’s events. Leach, after all, could not hurt her now. She need never see him or speak to him again in her life. If he dared to speak of her to anyone, surely Lady Stanier’s credit with the world was great enough to disarm any stories he might put about. She could not dismiss her curiosity regarding the possible part played by Sarah, however. Nor could she dispel the slight oppression of spirits she still felt from the dreadful night she had just come through. She had slept little, and when she had finally managed to drift off, the old nightmare had pounced upon her: the huge, faceless form pressing down on her, her lungs bursting. She woke gasping and sobbing, leaping from the bed to stare wildly about in terror. The reality of her comfortable room, the fire still glowing behind its screen, finally chased away the stronger reality of the dream, but she could not bear to lie down again. She huddled the down quilt from her bed around her shoulders and spent the rest
of the night in a chair before the fire. She only went back to her bed in the early morning when she heard Clinton running down the hall to her room for his morning romp.
This session with her ebullient little son did more to restore her spirits than anything else could have done. When he had been carried away by Nurse for his breakfast, Jane rose, dressed, and dashed off a note to Sarah, asking her, if it was convenient, to please call at the earliest opportunity. The footman was instructed to await her reply.
Mr. Quint called, as well as Lord Jaspar, but she sent down her apologies and word that she was slightly indisposed and not receiving this morning. Meantime, she paced about impatiently, waiting for Sarah’s answer.
When the footman returned, however, he brought no reply. “She wasn’t to home, m’lady. Leastways, that’s what her abigail says. So I left the note and come away.”
Jane dismissed him and resumed her pacing. How extraordinary, she thought, Sarah up and out of the house at this still very early hour of the morning! So unlike her. Where can she have gone? When no answer presented itself, Jane forced herself to go on with her day. She summoned Dorrie and gave her her daily lesson, afterward taking Clinton to Lady Stanier’s for a visit with Mrs. Hawks, who, as usual, did her very best to spoil him beyond recall in the space of an hour. Jane quelled her need to rush home and see if she had received any communication from Sarah, and sat down to a light nuncheon with Lady Stanier.
When she did reach home in the late afternoon, it was to find that a note had not arrived. She shrugged slightly, kissed Clinton, and sent him away with Nurse for a nap, and turned to the hall table where two posies were waiting. They proved to be from Mr. Quint and Lord Jaspar, each with a note expressing the hope that her indisposition was not of a serious or long-lasting nature, and they would both call to inquire on the following day. She smiled and told Crews to have the flowers taken to her room. She removed her bonnet and pelisse and was turning away to the back drawing room when the door knocker sounded faintly. Jane paused to look back just as Crews opened the door.
There stood Sarah, swaying slightly. “Jane!” she gasped when she saw Jane at the back of the hall. Jane rushed forward.
“Why, Sarah, you received my note at last! I wondered—Good God!” This last, shocked, exclamation escaped involuntarily as she came close enough to see Sarah’s face clearly. It was grotesquely disfigured, the right eye swollen almost closed amid a large, purplish bruise which extended over most of that side of her face. Her golden hair, originally piled high on her head, was straggling down, and she still wore the leaf-green velvet evening cloak of last night, sadly crumpled now.
With an inarticulate cry of pity Jane swept Sarah into her arms, where Sarah gave way completely and began to cry. She sobbed just as a hurt child does, mouth open in a grimace of tragedy and emitting loud, racking cries. Crews hastily closed the front door. Jane, holding Sarah close, led her to the back drawing room, calling out to Crews to bring warm water and brandy to her there.
She pressed Sarah down onto the sofa and loosened her pelisse, all the while murmuring soft words of comfort. Her eyes widened as she noted the rusty spots liberally spattered down the front of the silk and gauze gown. That surely is blood, she thought, horrified. She said nothing, however, only continuing to soothe the distraught girl as best she could until Betty Crews came hurrying in with a basin of water, cloths, and various ointments on a tray, as well as the brandy bottle.
Nothing could have been more salutary than the brisk, unastonished way Betty set about administering the brandy, and, when it had served its purpose and Sarah’s sobs had subsided, bathing her face gently and then expertly smoothing ointment onto the bruised eye.
“Though there’s little good it will do. That eye will take over a week to be right again, to my way of thinking, though ’twont be painful that long,” pronounced Betty, gathering up her things. I’ll just take these things away and have the maid air the bed in the Blue Room,” he added, raising an interrogative eyebrow at Jane, who took her meaning and nodded affirmatively. For of course there could be no question of allowing Sarah to return home to her mama in this condition.
The door closed behind Betty and silence filled the room, broken only by an occasional hiccupping sob or a shuddering sigh. Jane sat on a footstool beside the sofa and held Sarah’s hand warmly in both her own.
“Well, my dear,” Jane said softly after a time, “will you tell me about it now?”
“It is so—sordid—so ugly—you will hate me forever!”
“Of course I shall not hate you, foolish girl.”
“Yes, you will. But I had no one else to go to. You, at least, will not swoon away or become hysterical as my mama would, or any other of my acquaintances. I don’t call them friends, you notice, for I realized when I was trying to decide where it would be best to go, that I could not turn to any one of them.” She laughed shakily. “I suppose that may be counted as one lesson I have learned from all this. You are the only person I have any respect for besides Jaspar. Oh Jane, if only I had met you years ago!”
Jane’s lips twitched at the irony of this statement in spite of herself and the dreadfulness of the situation. “Never mind, dear, just try to tell me what has happened so that we can decide what it will be best to do about it.”
“Oh lord—where to begin? I suppose I must tell you that that man, that Leach, is holding my counters for—well—a great deal of money. He was—he was our butler, you see, and Mama always thought very highly of him. When he left us to set up his own business, we were all full of congratulations on his good fortune. When he sent around cards inviting us to patronize his gaming house, Mama said that I might go as it was sure to be respectable if Leach were in charge. Leach!” She spat out the name with loathing.
“He—he did this to you?” Sarah nodded, the tears starting in her eyes, but she blinked rapidly and took a deep breath, determined not to give way again. “But—no, I won’t ask questions. You must tell me just in your own way.”
“Well—I could not pay him. I had already spent next quarter’s allowance and Jaspar said he would give me no more, and Mama had none to give me—”
“But surely your brother would relent if—”
“No! I—I couldn’t! He would be very angry with me—I couldn’t ask him. Anyway—Leach said he would cancel my debt if I—if I—”
“If you would bring me there?”
“Yes—but I swear to you I meant you no harm. Though I still don’t understand what happened. Why did you look so strange and then walk out in that way?”
“He reminded me of something quite terrible in my own life—I had to go away,” Jane said slowly, aware that she was dissembling, but unwilling to reveal more to this volatile girl, who was not always discreet in her speech.
Sarah was too involved with her own problem to give much attention to this excuse at the moment. She accepted Jane’s explanation without question and plunged ahead.
“He was furious! I’ve never seen him in such a rage! He took it as a personal insult—hated having all those people see him being administered such a snub. He—he would not let me leave with you and made me come into his private apartment upstairs and—and—”
“Oh no, Sarah!” Jane gasped, “surely he didn’t force you to submit to him? I shall never forgive myself if I caused you to be subjected to—”
“No, no—not that. Even he would not dare go that far. Jaspar would kill him—he might anyway if he ever finds out about this. Oh Jane—Jaspar must not hear of it,” Sarah cried, clutching Jane’s hand frantically.
“No, darling, no. We will think of something, don’t worry. Now, he forced you upstairs and struck you?”
“Not right away. He raged and shouted a great deal first. Then he went away for a time and came back to begin all over again. All night long! I was so tired! And so frightened, because I couldn’t imagine what he was going to do.”
“Did he—speak of me?” Jane asked fearfully, even though it was clear
to her that he could not have done so, or Sarah must surely have referred to it by now, or at the very least let it appear in her attitude.
“Oh—nothing I could make any sense of. Mostly of how high in the instep you’d become, but how he’d bring you to heel before he was done, and—oh, on and on about being insulted and everything. I stopped listening after a while. I was so tired and worried! I knew Mama would be frantic! Finally, I began demanding to leave and that’s when he struck me. He just drew back his arm and slapped me so hard I thought my neck was broken and then he turned and left the room and locked the door.”
“But the blood—that is blood on your gown?”
“That was from my nose. It began to bleed. God, it was so nightmarish. I kept thinking ‘this cannot be happening to me.’ And I cried and cried, and sometimes I’d fall asleep. Once he came in and made me write a note to my mama to say I was spending the night with you, then he just left me there alone for hours, not even bringing me anything to eat when morning came. In fact I’ve had nothing all day! Just a little while ago he came back finally. I think he was at a loss as to what to do about me. Then he said he would let me go, but that I was to tell no one anything or he would tell everyone I had spent the night alone with him, and he would go to Jaspar with my counters. Oh Lord, what shall I do? I daren’t go home and let Mama see me like this.”
“No—I have been thinking. I will take you down to Larkwoods with me. We’ll stay there till you’re quite recovered and we’ll see no one. Will you come?”
“Oh, Janel” and now the tears came and she could not blink them away. Jane silently held out her handkerchief.
Lady Jane Page 20