by Julia Parks
“Roland, I think you’d better go,” said Jane weakly.
“Jane, dear, I am so sorry for my part in this. I hope you can forgive me.”
“It is not your fault.”
“If I can be of any further assistance to you, in any way…”
Jane shook her head.
His objective achieved, Roland Havelock bowed, his corset creaking, and left Jane alone.
b
Jane wasn’t certain how long she sat staring at the cup of coffee in her hand. It was as though she had been asleep for a very long time when the maid came in to clear the dishes. When the servant would have retreated, Jane motioned her forward.
Setting the cup down, Jane got to her feet. It was difficult to move; her legs felt cramped. She must have been tense during Roland’s visit. She wandered out of the dining room and sought the refuge of the cosy sitting room. She settled on the plump sofa, curling her legs underneath her and laying her head on her arm, which rested on the sofa’s rounded arm.
Perhaps she was jumping to conclusions. She knew Drew better than that. Didn’t she? But if Drew were innocent, then that would mean Roland was lying. She’d known her cousin to lie about sneaking an extra muffin from the kitchen, but that had been when they were children. And how could he hope to profit from lying about Drew? If what he had said were true, Roland was risking his reputation as a gentleman by telling her. A gentleman… Drew had admitted that first night he wasn’t a gentleman. That had been after he had kissed her; after she had found him wandering around upstairs near the nursery, wandering where no other guest would have gone.
And what had been the purpose behind that silly trick at the chapel? He’d been trying to scare her. Had he really thought she would sell Heartland over such a trivial thing? And the falling stones at the abbey—had he been behind that, too? How could she believe such a thing? He was the one who had pushed her to safety. If his purpose had been to…
Jane stood up abruptly. How could she believe any of this about Drew? Drew, the man who loved her, and whom she loved. And he did love her, she was sure of that.
She walked to the window. It had begun to rain, a slow, drenching rain.
Who was she trying to fool? She knew nothing about love or men. It was quite possible that Drew didn’t have the heart to murder her, so when frightening her hadn’t worked, he had realized the only way he would get his hands on Heartland was to marry its mistress. What could be more natural?
Marrying for position or money was done all the time.
b
“Madame, Monsieur Devlin is here. Shall I show him in?”
Jane nodded and wiped away the tear that threatened to spill onto her cheek.
“Good morning, Jane. I was afraid you might still be put out with me and refuse to see me.”
She turned to greet him. He was smiling, that winning smile that always made her forget everything else. But not this time. She wouldn’t be transparent this time; she would keep her self-control.
“Did you enjoy yourself at the breakfast?”
“It was a terrible bore. It was like being in London—the same people, the same conversations.” Drew frowned.
“Jane, are you still upset with me because I’m not staying here? I did explain—”
“No, I’m not upset at all about that, Drew.”
She sounded like she was being truthful, yet her voice held little warmth. “Ah, I see what it is. I told you in my note I would come by last night when I returned to town. It was so late, I knew you would be abed, and since I had no news to report—”
“News?” She had almost forgotten his original reason for attending the breakfast.
“Yes, about Cherry.”
“Oh, yes. I didn’t really expect her to be there. She has put herself beyond the pale, but to appear openly with her lover would be too brazen, even for Cherry.”
“How cynical you sound, Jane. Have you given up hope?”
She looked him straight in the eye. “Yes, I believe I have.”
He moved to her side and started to place his arms around her. Jane turned away, walked to a narrow, straight-backed chair and sat down.
“I’m sorry, Drew. I have the headache this morning. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does the pain is unbearable.” She lowered her head so he couldn’t see her face.
“My poor love, let me send for a physician.”
“It would do no good. Only time and sleep can help,” she said. “Tucker will make up a potion with laudanum for me.”
“Then I’ll leave so you can go back to bed. I’ll call this evening to see how you are?” He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder for a brief moment. Then he left her, never noticing the tears beginning to fall on the tightly clasped hands resting in her lap.
b
The headache had become a reality by the time Tucker came into the room a half hour later. “The seamstress is here with yer gown, Miss Jane.”
“What? Oh, thank you, Tucker. Is the young shopgirl here, also?”
“Yes. What is it, Miss Jane? Ye’ve been cryin’.”
Jane stood up and squared her shoulders, determined to ignore the pain in her temples and her heart. “It is nothing, Tucker. Come along. I can’t wait to see how the red dress is coming.”
While the seamstress poked and prodded, Jane stood quietly, smiling at the shopgirl occasionally. Marie held the package of pins and the tape measure, jumping each time she was addressed by the stern seamstress.
“Tucker, why don’t you help Madame Lefevre pack her things? Marie can help me out of this,” said Jane when they had finished. Tucker nodded and opened the door to the dressing room for Jane and the girl.
When they were alone, Jane said, “You must meet all of Madame Arnot’s customers, Marie.”
“Yes, madame, almost all of them.”
“I suppose many of them now are English.”
“That is also true, madame. If Madame will just step out of the skirt?”
Jane complied and asked, “Did you ever see a young lady named Miss Pettigrew?”
“I don’t know, madame. There are so many strange English names.”
Jane stepped into her blue morning gown. “You see, one of my cousins is in Paris, but I’m not certain where she is staying. Cherry is so thoughtless—”
“Did madame say ‘Cherry’?”
“Yes, have you seen her?”
“I believe that is what they called her. It seemed an odd name; that is why I remember it.”
“Was she beautiful? Petite, blonde, and blue-eyed?”
“Yes, that is she!” Marie began to rattle on as she buttoned up the back of Jane’s gown, and Jane listened in growing amazement. “She was with her aunt. Ah non, not an aunt. She called her Lady Pierce. I remember well, now. I was trying to decide who was related to whom. There were two other young ladies. One, I think, was Margery.”
Jane whirled to face the girl. “Are you certain about who was with her?”
“Certainly, madame. It was only yesterday morning, not long after you had left. They were collecting their new gowns to wear to the great breakfast at the Palais de Versailles. They were going there straight from Madame Arnot’s shop.”
Jane held the girl’s arm as she sank onto a nearby chair, her legs shaking. She felt dazed by the news. Cherry hadn’t run away with Lord Pierce at all! She was, quite properly, under the unexceptional chaperonage of Lady Pierce. Her reputation was unblemished.
While Jane’s…?
Jane began to laugh, a hysterical laugh that sent the young servant scurrying from the room. When Tucker hurried in, Jane was almost falling out of her chair, gasping for breath between bouts of silent giggling.
“She’ll be all right. Sometimes things just strike her funny,” explained Tucker to the bewildered Madam Lefevre and Marie. “If you’ve gotten everything, that’ll be all.”
When they were alone, Tucker said severely, “Here now, Miss Jane. You’ll be having those two Frenchies believing all
Englishwomen are mad.”
“I’m sor-sorry…Tucker…I simply couldn’t help it. You’ll never guess—Miss Cherry is with Lady Pierce, not Lord Pierce. She’s done nothing wrong, at least, not in the eyes of society. All she is guilty of is disobeying her mama.”
“That’s wonderful, Miss Jane! Now we can get her and go home!” said Tucker thankfully.
“No, we can’t just go and get her. How would I explain my presence here? I couldn’t tell her the truth, and Cherry knows only too well that nothing short of a catastrophe could bring me to Paris when Heartland’s Open Day is less than a month away. No, I’ll just have to go home as anonymously as I came. Heavens, it will be good to get out of these blacks again!”
“Lord Devlin’ll be glad, he will.”
“Lord…?” Jane sobered instantly. “Marie told me Cherry attended that breakfast, Tucker—the one Lord Devlin went to yesterday. But he told me she wasn’t there.”
“Maybe he just missed her. It was probably very crowded.”
“Not that crowded. My God, Roland was right—right about everything.” Jane sat as still as a statue while the enormity of her mistake permeated her. Just as a person whose loved one has died suddenly can feel no further pain beyond that one terrible fact, Jane was too shocked to feel anything yet.
“Miss Jane, Miss Jane! Please speak to me!”
Jane focused on her maid and smiled. “It’s all right, Tucker. I’m fine. We must pack now. We’re going home.”
“Just the two of us, Miss Jane?”
“Of course. We’ll be fine,” said Jane, her voice becoming stronger, more decisive. “We have Jean-Luc to drive us back to the coast where we can spend the night. Jean-Luc’s father will see to our passages for the packet. If the weather takes a turn for the better, we can be back in England by tomorrow night.”
“But, Miss Jane, what about Lord Devlin? It seems a shame, after all he’s done, to punish ’im for one little lie.”
“Yes, for all he’s done,” murmured Jane, staring off into space again. “Very well, I shall leave him a note with Madame DuClaire. But she is not to give it to him until tomorrow morning. I’ve put up with all I intend to today. With a little luck, we’ll be back in England before he realizes we have gone.”
Tucker shook her head, a worried frown on her forehead. “But Miss Jane, what about your new dresses? They won’t be ready until tomorrow.”
“True, I hadn’t thought of that. I have it—I’ll leave the payment for the dresses with Madame DuClaire, also. Then she can ship them to me at Heartland. You see? Everything is taken care of. Now, you go downstairs and tell Madame to have the carriage brought around in an hour. We should be packed by then.”
b
Jane’s preparations were interrupted a half hour later with the unwelcome news that Roland wished to see her. Handing Tucker the gown she had been folding. Jane hurried downstairs.
“What is this I hear, Jane? Leaving Paris in such a hurry? Why?” Roland was enjoying acting the part of the concerned relative. He had been watching the house all morning. He’d seen Lord Devlin come and go, pleased by the brevity of that visit. After the seamstresses left, he had watched a flurry of activity as a footman was sent to find Jean-Luc. How clever he felt to have guessed the reason Jane needed her young coachman.
“It’s time to go home, Roland. Paris simply doesn’t agree with me.”
“But surely you’re not travelling alone?”
“I have Tucker with me.”
“A maid. Hardly protection.”
“And my pistol,” she added coldly, causing him to shiver.
“Ah, good. I say, Jane, I hope I’m not being forward, but do you think I might go along—at least as far as London? I’m rather tired of Paris myself.”
“I don’t know. We’re almost ready to leave.” Jane hesitated, and Roland put on his most piteous expression. “How soon can you be ready?”
“I shall be back here within the hour?”
“Never mind, we shall pick you up in a half hour.”
“Good! Here’s my direction,” he said, taking out a stubby pencil and scribbling on a soiled calling card.
Chapter Nine
After Drew left Jane, he drove back to his hotel. What he had wanted more than anything on this rainy day was to spend some time with Jane. The long hours would have flown by in her arms. Instead, he was going to spend a lonely afternoon, just waiting for evening when he could return to Madame DuClaire’s and see Jane.
The rain stopped late in the afternoon, and Drew left his hotel, making his way to a nearby wine shop. As he sipped the dry white wine, he watched the passing world through a single murky window. He grinned as a haughty young lady stormed past, at handsome youth on her heels begging her forgiveness for some transgression. Drew felt a spark of sympathy for the hapless man—it was rather like what he’d felt lately with Jane.
“Lord Devlin, we meet again.”
Drew looked up sharply. “How was your journey, Tuttle?”
“Impossible! Utter tedium. You should have joined me as I suggested.”
Drew smiled slightly, but made no comment. Tuttle stared at the empty chair, and Drew finally said, “Won’t you be seated? I have an appointment in a moment, but we have time to share a glass of wine.”
The fussy little man flipped up the long tails of his unfashionable coat and perched on the edge of the chair. Just like a baby bird hoping for a worm. “It seems everyone is in a rush to some appointment lately. Why only yesterday, Mr. Havelock—” Drew came to attention at the mention of Jane’s cousin, and Mr. Tuttle’s eyes began to dance. “Do you know Havelock?”
“’To a degree,” said Drew.
“It is the same with me. We shared a bottle of wine at one of those charming outdoor cafés yesterday, but Havelock and I are not on intimate terms. Rather a sordid fellow though I can’t put my finger on it. Comes from a good family, though.”
Drew nodded, pulling out his timepiece to check the hour. He wouldn’t want to be late for his fictitious rendezvous.
“Actually, our conversation was about his family,” continued Tuttle. “All of them are here, you know. Odd thing is, Miss Lindsay isn’t staying with Miss Pettigrew. As far as I can tell, Miss Lindsay is here on her own. Are you acquainted with Miss Lindsay?”
Tuttle had an annoying habit of asking questions to which he seemed to have the answer already. Cautiously, he admitted, “I am acquainted with Miss Lindsay. My mother’s home is in Bath, so I have met Miss Lindsay upon occasion.”
“Ah yes, now I remember. You and Lady Cynthia were quite the talk of London after she danced with you three times at the assembly in Bath.”
Drew laughed. “I had no idea such trivial news would be worth repeating.”
“Yes, indeed. A peer of the realm? You are always newsworthy, my dear Devlin. But the thing that intrigued me so very much, being somewhat a connoisseur of on-dits, was the news of your entrance at this same assembly with a voluptuous beauty on your arm. My source was unable to put a name to the lady, but from his description, I would guess it was Miss Lindsay.”
“Your source was probably correct. My mother and Miss Lindsay are quite the best of friends. Now, I really must go. Oh, tell me, Tuttle, where is Havelock staying? I’d rather avoid him.”
“Of course. He has taken lodging on Rue de Havre, number six, I believe.”
“Thank you.”
“Just one more thing, Devlin. You never did tell me who your travelling companion to Paris was.”
“No, I didn’t, did I?” Drew nodded and walked slowly away. He proceeded to Madame DuClaire’s house by a circuitous route, entering by the back gate near the stables. He doubted that Tuttle had followed him, but he couldn’t be too careful with Jane’s reputation.
Drew decided to tell Jane about Cherry immediately. They needed to leave Paris before the inquisitive Tuttle discovered their secret.
Drew entered by the kitchen door, startling Madame DuClaire, who was consulting
with the cook.
“Bonjour, madame. It has turned into a fine evening, hasn’t it?” he commented, removing his fashionable beaver hat.
“Yes, monsieur,” replied the matron. Drew frowned, wondering at her nervous state.
“I have come to see Madame Davies.”
“I am sorry, sir. She is ill and has asked that no one be admitted.”
“Jane, ill? Has she sent for the doctor?”
“It was unnecessary; it was only the headache. She will be fine tomorrow. Her maid gave her laudanum. She will sleep through the night. Why don’t you call again tomorrow?”
With a curt nod, Drew settled his hat back on his head. He went out through the kitchen door and stood for a moment in the yard, the fragrant scent of garden herbs filling the air. He turned and stared at the darkened upstairs windows, wishing he knew which was Jane’s.
With a sigh of disappointment, he retraced his steps to wend his way back to the Hotel St. Jacques. Once back in his room, he sent down for a deck of cards and a bottle of brandy. It seemed dulled senses and a game of patience would be his only company on this, his last evening in Paris.
b
The weather cooperated for the journey, and Jean-Luc made excellent progress on the main roads. Jane was tired but pleased when they reached Dieppe by ten o’clock. Jean-Francois greeted Jane warmly, looking past her for his friend, Drew.
Jane quickly took the landlord aside and explained, “Lord Devlin decided to remain in Paris. My cousin agreed to escort me home. I would appreciate it, Monsieur DuClaire, if you wouldn’t speak of me being here with Lord Devlin.”
The shrewd Frenchman nodded after a moment. “I will put you in the same rooms as before. Fortunately, they are available. Do you desire a supper?”
“Yes, thank you, monsieur. We hope to set sail tomorrow, weather permitting.”
“I will send Jean-Luc into Dieppe to purchase passage for you before breakfast in the morning.”
They re-joined Roland, and Jane introduced him to the landlord.