Lady Joy and the Earl: A Regency Christmas Novella

by Regina Jeffers

  “I spoke to Lord Hough earlier about the writ,” her son assured. “His lordship has volunteered to assist me and to stand for me in the House of Lords.”

  Jocelyn could not disguise her surprise. “Why? Why would you assist my son?”

  “Mother!” Andrew protested.

  But Lord Hough shook off her son’s good intentions. “Your mother and I hold a long acquaintance, and I realize Lady Jocelyn possesses a strong sense of protection for her family. No offense occurred.”

  “You avoid the question, my lord,” she said suspiciously.

  “The answer is simple. For generations, our families—yours and mine—have always stood together. Lord Powell cannot speak to Lathrop’s character or your son’s right to his father’s peerage. Powell is family. And although the House of Lords cannot deny your son’s succession, they have been known to delay similar requests. I know nothing of your husband’s passing; yet, I have heard the rumors.”

  “None of them are true,” Andrew maintained.

  “I never thought they were,” his lordship stated in firm tones. “As I said previously, your mother and I have known each other since Lady Jocelyn was a nuisance chasing after your Uncle Emerson and me. I know her character better than most. And, as to her son, I am certain she instilled those values in him.”

  Andrew frowned. “And what of my father’s values? You said nothing of them, my lord.”

  Jocelyn’s gaze narrowed, sharpened even. As she waited for Lord Hough’s response, she held her breath, willing him not to act against Andrew. She knew something of Hough’s opinion of her late husband. His lordship had given voice to them the one time they had encountered each other after her father’s death. She wished Hough to soothe Andrew’s qualms, not rattle old cages. Her son had suffered enough from the rumors and innuendos.

  As if he understood the situation, Lord Hough turned a steady gaze on Andrew. “I did not know Harrison Lathrop well; we did not run in the same circles, and my opinions are likely skewed by the remembrances of a young man’s stubbornness. I have heard others speak of Lord Lathrop as a hard man, one whose motives were not easily comprehended, but I later learned of circumstances which shed light on the viscount’s ‘hardness,’ and so I avoid speaking to your father’s character. I knew him for a few years at university, and men change as the years pass. Yet, the man I encountered in those early days would never have encouraged his son to assure his mother of his honorable intentions for being in Town. Such kindness was instilled by Lady Jocelyn. I can speak honestly to those qualities.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” she whispered. The fact James Highcliffe still believed in her had Jocelyn fighting back tears.

  Harrison had died in unusual circumstances. His death was an accident, but an accident, which occurred after she and her husband had fought, quite loudly and violently, over a punishment Harrison planned to execute against Andrew. That had been ten years prior. Jocelyn and her sons had weathered the questions from authorities and insinuations from Harrison’s family and those in the neighborhood.

  “We will see Lord Andrew to his rightful place,” Lord Hough declared. “Why do I not meet you at Woodson’s office tomorrow, Lathrop? We will set the man to work gathering the proper documents for your petition to the Lords.”

  “That would be capital, my lord,” Andrew said in admiration.

  Jocelyn understood: Her son had never had a male, beyond her brother, willing to stand with him.

  “What documents, my lord?” she asked.

  Lord Hough instructed, “The Lords will ask for certain statutory declaration evidence. As the first-born son, you will be required to furnish evidence of your birth, proof of your parents’ marriage, which indicates they were married before your birth, evidence of your father’s passing, just proof of his death, not how he died, mind you, a document proving your father had no legitimate surviving male issue before your birth, and proof you are a member of the Church of England.”

  “We can prove all of those, can we not, Mother?” Andrew asked in excitement.

  “Yes, dear. But you and I should discuss this in more detail before you call on Mr. Woodson. Now, do me the favor of hurrying your cousin along. Constance should be down by now. We are expected at the Abernathy soiree. Could I persuade you to accompany us?”

  “I will rouse out Constance, but I cannot attend you tonight. I promised several of the fellows we would make an appearance at the Lamberts’ evening of cards.”

  “No gaming,” Jocelyn cautioned.

  “I’ve only ten pounds in my pocket. If I lose it all, I will leave the gathering and return to White’s to nurse my wounded pride.”

  In a good humor, her son swept from the room. When his footsteps faded on the steps, she turned to the earl, but found him standing closer than she expected. Before Jocelyn could stop him, Lord Hough caught her hands between his two. His warmth spread up her arms. “Know this, Joy, all I said of assisting Lord Andrew is true, but there is one other reason I mean to take an interest in young Lord Lathrop.”

  Her breathing hitched sharply, and, for a brief second, she squeezed her eyes shut to ward off his lordship’s next remarks. Although she knew she should not ask, the words slipped out, nevertheless. “And that would be?”

  He tugged her closer, where his breath could caress her cheek. “Simple. Lady Jocelyn adores her son, and I adore Lady Jocelyn.”

  Chapter Two

  “What win I, if I gain the thing I seek? A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy. Who buys a minutes’ mirth to wail a week?”

  William Shakespeare, “The Rape of Lucrece”

  James had thought to kiss Joy that first evening at Powell Hall, but he noted how his words had frightened her. Therefore, he permitted her to pull her hands free of his and to take several steps back. She stared at him, her blue eyes widening for a brief second in what appeared to be longing, before turning gray in fierce bleakness. Her brother had been correct: James would need to tread carefully where Jocelyn was concerned.

  Having Lord Powell appear at Hough Hall had surprised James. Naturally, they spoke when they encountered each other at the village tavern or at church, but since James’s marriage to Louisa, he and Powell had not socialized more than what was required of gentlemen. In truth, James missed the companionship of his childhood friend, but Louisa had never approved of James’s acquaintance with the marquess, whom she deemed too unconventional and informal to hold such an exalted position, and James had not been willing to hear whether Jocelyn flourished in her marriage or not.

  “Powell, please join me. Might I pour you a drink?”

  The marquess shook off the offer. “I have not much time, and I come hat-in-hand to beg a favor.”

  “At least have a seat.” James gestured to the chair before his desk. “You must know if the favor is in my power, certainly I will be happy to oblige.”

  “You may regret those words,” Powell said with a chuckle. His friend had always had an odd sense of humor.

  In response, James’s eyebrow had risen in curiosity. “Perhaps you should explain before I agree.”

  “As you may have heard, Constance is making her Come Out. There is an event the first part of next week featuring our Constance on the harp. My marchioness swears it would be devastating to remove our daughter from the program, on such short notice, for the it features several well-known musicians, but Lavinia and I must return to Yorkshire. Several upon the estate have come down with measles. Lavinia worries for our younger children. Constance is here, and Edward is at Cambridge finishing some work he missed last spring when he broke his leg and was laid up for six weeks, but that leaves three children at home.”

  James nodded his understanding. “You require someone to escort Lady Constance about Town.”

  Powell appeared shamefaced. “I know you do not go out much socially when you are in London on business, and it is a great imposition I ask, but there are few with whom I would trust Constance. She knows you.” The marquess paused aw
kwardly. “If you wish to refuse, I would understand.”

  James thought of a thousand excuses until Powell added, “I sent for Jocelyn. Constance will require a female chaperone, and my sister planned to travel to Powell Manor for Christmastide. Joy has not been home since our father passed. Lathrop would not permit it.”

  “Lady Jocelyn, you say?” James had attempted not to sound interested in the mention of Jocelyn Powell’s name. Once his year of mourning had officially passed, he wondered how he might make contact with the woman whose essence had never left him. Now, Powell delivered his sister wrapped as a pretty fairing.

  “I planned to return to Yorkshire the end of next week. Would that be convenient for Lady Lathrop and your daughter?” James said with practiced casualness.

  Powell smiled knowingly. James had not fooled his former friend with James’s attempt at indifference, but neither of them spoke of the relationship James once held with Powell’s sister. “I am certain it would please both Joy and Constance to have your company.”

  James kept his focus on a point just past Powell’s shoulders. “How is Lady Jocelyn? I have heard little of your sister beyond the notice of her husband’s unusual passing.” Much to Louisa’s displeasure, James had made multiple inquiries into Lathrop’s death, especially when rumors surfaced that Jocelyn was responsible for the fall which killed the viscount, but he had learned little. Eventually, the gossip changed from her pushing Lathrop off the cliff face in a fit of rage to sympathy for Lathrop’s widow, when the ton learned of Lathrop’s mistress and the viscount’s three children born on the wrong side of the blanket.

  Powell frowned deeply. “Jocelyn deserved a better husband than Lathrop. I attempted to persuade our father not to accept the viscount’s plight, but my objections were ignored. It broke our mother’s heart not to be permitted to visit with her daughter regularly. Lathrop ran a strict household and Jocelyn’s joy was suppressed by the man’s hard hand. None of us know exactly how to approach her. Despite Jocelyn’s steely determination to see her sons well placed, she appears so frightened by life.”

  James debated whether to ask more questions, but he decided to wait and observe whether Joy’s reaction to seeing him again was a display of propriety after so many rumors or a true dislike for his person, before he recruited Powell as an ally in James’s attempt to win the woman he loved. “I assume you plan to leave for Yorkshire today.”

  “Although we will claim only one day’s travel northward before we must rest upon the Sabbath, Lavinia insists we do.”

  “And Lady Jocelyn and your Constance are engaged this evening?”

  “Lady Beauchamp’s ball,” Powell confirmed.

  “Inform the ladies I will be a bit late, but I will be happy to escort your family about Town. I will send my coach to them after I call upon my Aunt Stehl, to whom I am promised for supper. They may use the carriage and then send it back to me. My coachman will know the directions. It will be good to renew my acquaintance with Lady Lathrop.”

  Powell stood and extended his hand to James. “I am in your debt, Hough.”

  “What happens after Lady Constance’s performance? If measles still rage at Powell Manor, you cannot think to permit Lady Lathrop and your daughter to return to Yorkshire. You would be exposing them to the disease.” James hoped he and Joy might be in company longer than a week, for if what Powell said was true, more than a week would be required to bring her around.

  “Lavinia and I did not think that far ahead. I would despise not to welcome Jocelyn and her sons for Christmastide. Lathrop and Michael have never seen their mother’s childhood home. Never known much of family in any form.”

  Another pleasure Lathrop denied his wife and children. What had the man feared? Was he afraid if he permitted Jocelyn and her sons to leave, they would not return? James wondered.

  “Does Lady Constance know of the measles at home?” An idea had hatched that could extend James’s time with Jocelyn.

  “Lavinia has not spoken of the illness. Constance would insist on returning to the manor, but our daughter has not known the illness previously. Neither has Edward. We have only said pressing business calls us home.”

  “I do not imagine either Lady Jocelyn or Lady Constance would wish to return to Kent for the Christmastide festivities. What if I accept your family at Hough House if the illness continues longer than you expect? There is plenty of room at my manor, and your family would be close if they were required for the unforgivable, and I would admit to enjoying the idea of company. My mother and Aunt Mary can provide chaperoning duties. I promised my children we would celebrate Christmastide this year. My estate was still in mourning last year. and the year before, Louisa had just passed. Sebastian and Lathrop are likely familiar with each other from university. Meredith is bringing one of her friends, a Miss Ophelia Stephenson, from Mrs. Coppersmith’s School for Girls. With Edward’s arrival, Lady Lathrop’s sons will have several in attendance to aid in entertaining your nephews.”

  “That would be very gracious of you,” Powell said in practiced politeness. “You have had no news of measles on your estate?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  “That is good. Perhaps we contained it. My steward blames the gypsies who are camped outside the village, but Doctor Morgan seems to believe the tinker did more than leave our pots repaired.”

  “My money is on Morgan,” James insisted. He had come from behind his desk to lead Powell to the door. Best to be rid of his friend before the marquess could change his mind. “It is settled. Keep me informed.” He handed Powell off to his waiting butler before turning back to his study. A smile claimed his lips. Lady Jocelyn at his house for Christmastide would be perfect for him, and James intended to make it perfect for her.

  That had been then, but this is now, he thought. After Jocelyn’s reaction to his recent overtures, James was no longer certain his plan would know success. Should I withdraw? he wondered. I do not wish to discomfort the lady further. James did not think he could walk away from Lady Jocelyn again. The last time, doing so nearly killed his spirit. “Perhaps my aiding her ladyship’s son will soften Joy’s heart,” he said with a heavy sigh. “And even if it does not do the trick, the young gentleman requires a steady hand. I cannot abandon a man once I have given my word. Moreover, returning Jocelyn to Yorkshire should bring her peace.”

  * * *

  Jocelyn glanced to the man sitting beside her. Since the day he captured her hands in his, Lord Hough had not touched her beyond assisting her in and out of his carriage. Even now, he maintained the proper distance from her, which was as frustrating as had been his earlier declarations of affection. She was no longer certain what she wanted from the man. At the ball, Lord Hough had told her he wanted her as his wife, and in the Powell Hall drawing room, he said he adored her, but, since then, he had acted as if she was nothing more than an older version of her niece, a lady to be respected, but not “adored.”

  As the violinist built to the crescendo of his performance, Jocelyn wondered what was the earl’s definition of “adoration.” After all, she told herself, likely for the hundredth time, I adore chocolate and a book that speaks to my heart and a long walk in the countryside, but I could live without each. Adoration was a long way from the love she had always craved. Harrison had claimed adoration of her person when all he wanted was a connection to her father’s marquessate, while her father claimed to adore her, but willingly traded her to expunge his gaming debts to Lathrop.

  Polite applause brought Jocelyn from her musings. Lord Hough leaned toward her to whisper, “Might I bring you a refreshment?”

  “That would be kind, my lord.” Jocelyn found herself wishing he had asked her something more personal instead.

  “I will be but a moment.” He stood just as Mrs. Silva, who sat on James’s right, reached for his gloved hand.

  “Might you fetch me a punch also, my lord?” she said with a flirtatious flip of her fan. “I am feeling quite parched.”

  Lord
Hough glanced to Jocelyn as if to say, “Others want what you do not” before he agreed to bring the other woman a drink and turned to make his way through the crowd.

  “Such a fine looking man.” Mrs. Silva sighed dramatically. “No one who saw him would think him the father to a young man who has already reached his majority.”

  “His lordship favors his maternal grandfather,” Jocelyn murmured as her eyes followed Hough’s retreat.

  “Oh, I had forgotten you were Lord Hough’s neighbor before you married,” the woman said in false consideration, which she did little to disguise.

  Jocelyn turned her gaze on the lady. “What about Lord Hough do you wish to know?” She found she did not approve of Mrs. Silva, whose acquaintance she had taken only this very evening, but whose opinions were likely to destroy Jocelyn’s enjoyment of Constance’s upcoming performance.

  Mrs. Silva placed her fan on her lap. “I was just wondering of your connection to his lordship. There are those who think it more than coincidence that Lord Hough has never been known to go about in Society until you arrived in Town, and as you also hold a reputation for avoiding London’s entertainments—”

  Jocelyn willed her ire away. “Perhaps you should ask Lord Hough that exact same question.”

  Mrs. Silva blushed. “I could not. To speak such is not the mark of a lady.”

  Jocelyn stiffened. “You wish to know if Lord Hough and I practice an affair?”

  Before the woman could respond, Andrew appeared at her side. “I believe this is yours, ma’am.” He presented Mrs. Silva the drink he held. Not recognizing the ill feelings passing between her and Mrs. Silva, he extended his hand to Jocelyn. “Come. Lord Hough and Michael are holding seats for us closer to the front.”

  “Michael is here?” she asked, glad her youngest son had arrived safely, although a day later than expected.