She’d played the innocent at first, claiming she’d wandered into the wrong bedchamber. But even after Ned had suggested as politely as he was able when angered to such a great extent that she find the right chamber with all due haste, she’d lingered and chatted about the weather. One could only imagine she was hoping he’d change his mind, although why one would be persuaded to initiate relations after chatting about the chance of rain, he had no idea.
Finally, the girl got out of his bed and after yet another conversation – this one about Byron, which made him even less amorously inclined – she reluctantly left. Then he pushed furniture against each door in the room, including those that opened onto his third floor balcony.
He wasn’t taking any chances.
So despite the lack of sleep after such a harrowing night, he’d risen early and left Barrington Manor before any of the family had come down to break their fast. He’d also had no desire to be there when Cantwell’s man came to pick up his blunt.
He was currently walking down a country lane and wishing Rigg had been able to learn the exact whereabouts of Jane Wetherby. One thing was certain: he’d find her address today.
He walked around a bend in the road and came upon a rather large farmer whose cart was stuck in a rut next to the path. The man appeared to be trying to reason with two mules.
“I see you’ve run into some bad luck,” said Ned. “May I be of some assistance?”
The man interrupted his stern lecture to give Ned the once over. Obviously deciding that anyone dressed like Ned would be of no help and could possibly even get him arrested for loitering, he gave a condescending smile, then waved him along.
“Thanks for ye offer, milord, but I can manage meself.”
“I’m sure you can do quite well, but your animals look to have minds of their own. If you can get the mules back on the road, I’ll give the rear wheel a push.”
The man was clearly skeptical, but with nothing to lose, he nodded while Ned shrugged out of his jacket, which he then tossed onto the cart.
Ned positioned himself at the rear of the wagon, then the man muttered something to the mules which sounded suspiciously like poetry. Whatever he said worked, because the animals tugged and the wagon lurched forward. Ned put everything he had into pushing, and the wagon once again found the road.
“Whoa,” said the man to his mules, while looking at Ned surprised.
Ned picked up his jacket and joined the man at the head of the team. “I’m Ned Kellington.” Then he put out his hand.
The man grew even more surprised, then shook Ned’s hand. “I’m Seth Johnson, and I know who ye are, milord. Everyone in these parts do. Ye’ve come to marry Miss Merriman.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear, Johnson.”
“That’s a lesson I learnt as a young’un. Where are ye headin’? I’d like to give ye a ride as a thank ye for what ye done, if ye don’t mind ridin’ on a cart. I cain’t imagine it’s what ye’re used to in Lunnon.”
“I appreciate the offer of a ride, but what I really need is information. Do you know where Miss Wetherby lives?”
The man turned instantly suspicious. “What business do ye have with Miss Jane?”
Ned hesitated telling the man anything, but he had the distinct impression Johnson wouldn’t help if he didn’t.
“She saved my life seven years ago in Belgium.”
“Ye was in the war?”
“Yes.”
“So was me brother. Didn’t make it back, though.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“As am I.”
He gave Ned one more assessing look then told him to hop on.
* * *
Jane took another look at the sky. A storm was definitely coming in. She turned back to look at the house. She loved her home and it was this sight of the slightly rambling farmhouse with the red door and the ivy crawling up the wall that never failed to make her think of her parents. They’d argued about that red door. Her mother had won. But then she almost always had because her father could never bear to see her disappointed. So much of her mother’s life had been under the control of Jane’s grandfather, that her father had dedicated his life to making her happy.
They’d done well together. And Jane missed them every day.
But now, looking at the red door and the ivy climbing up the front wall, all Jane could think about was the roof. They didn’t have enough pots to catch all the drips that would be leaking into the house if the storm was bad enough. Mr. Heldt and Farrell had gone into town to get whatever supplies they could acquire on credit. Jane knew it wouldn’t be much.
Vi, of course, had tagged along. She hated being cooped up in the house, but Jane didn’t like letting her go to town. It was only a matter of time before Vi realized all the whispering behind hands was about her. Jane had long ago ceased caring what others thought of her. But it was painful to think her child was subjected to such cruelty.
At the sound of a wagon coming up the drive, Jane turned, thinking Mr. Heldt had forgotten something and was returning to get it. She was completely unprepared for what she saw.
“Good morning!” said an impeccably dressed Ned, from his seat on Mr. Johnson’s cart. Words stuck in her throat because she couldn’t quell the rising panic. He was here. At her home. And Vi would be back eventually.
“Morning, Miss Jane,” said Johnson.
“Good morning, Mr. Johnson, Lord Edward.”
Edward started climbing down from the cart.
“Stop! What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m getting out of the cart. Am I doing it wrong? Perhaps things are done differently in the country, but I assure you this is how I would get out of a cart if I were in the middle of Rotten Row.” Then he smiled that smile which did things to Jane’s entire body.
Johnson was once again looking at him suspiciously. “He said he was a friend of yers, Miss Jane. But if he ain’t and ye want him gone, I can see to it.”
Jane very badly wanted him gone, but judging from the look in Johnson’s eye, he might be tempted to do Ned bodily harm. Johnson had a wife and three daughters at home and had always been quite protective of her. Jane wanted Ned gone, but not injured.
“He is a friend of mine, Mr. Johnson. I just wasn’t expecting company.”
“Well, if’n ye don’t need me for anything,” and by the way Johnson offered, Jane knew he was asking if Ned needed to be dealt with, “I’ll just be on my way.”
“Thanks for the ride, Johnson,” said Ned, completely oblivious to how close he’d come to a blackened eye from the large farmer.
“Thank you, Mr. Johnson,” said Jane. Please give my regards to your family.”
“Will do. And give my regards to…”
“Of course I shall! Good bye.”
The farmer drove away, leaving an awkward silence.
“I came to check on you,” said Ned.
“I’m quite well, as you can see,” said Jane nervously. “Although I don’t know how I can possibly pay you back, either for coming to my assistance physically last night or taking care of my debt with Cantwell.”
“You owe me nothing on either account. It’s what any gentleman would’ve done.”
“You make too light of both deeds, especially the money. I’m afraid it might be quite some time before I’m able to repay you.” She was achingly aware that Vi might return at any moment.
“And I told you I won’t accept repayment. I’m glad I was able to come to your aid.” He turned to gaze at the house. “So, this is your home.”
“I know it’s not grand, and the roof leaks and I haven’t been able to keep up the grounds as well as I would’ve liked, but, yes, it is my home.” She wasn’t sure why she was pointing out her home’s flaws, when they must all be obvious to this man who came from one of the wealthiest families in the country. Maybe it was to enumerate the inadequacies before he had the chance.
“I think it’s what a home should be.” He turne
d to her, his gaze solemn for once. “I don’t have a house. At least not one that’s my very own. But if I did, I should want it to be much like this. Although perhaps without the leaky roof.”
She blushed, both at the reminder of the roof and the compliment which touched her much more than it should.
“Would you like some tea?” she asked, even though she knew she was risking discovery. But she was still a bit light-headed from the compliment and she probably had three-quarters of an hour before the others returned.
“Perhaps later. But first, I’d like to know what you’re going to do about the roof. I’ve heard tell a storm is on the way.” And he’d also heard from Rigg that the lovely Jane Wetherby was unlikely to be able to afford to hire anyone to make the repairs.
“My groom and Mr. Heldt will likely fix it later today.” Which wasn’t exactly true. Mr. Heldt was much too old to risk being on the roof. He’d most certainly try to get up there, but Jane and Mrs. Heldt would do everything to dissuade him, which meant Jane and Farrell would fix the roof.
“If I help them, the work will go much faster. We’d better get a jump on things because the weather is already starting to turn.”
Then the man removed his jacket. His waistcoat came off before Jane had caught her breath enough to object. Ned Kellington fully dressed was a feast for the eyes. Ned Kellington partially dressed ignited all the senses, starting with Jane’s breasts and flowing downward between her legs. She felt like a fever had overtaken her. She wasn’t sure she could cool down if the heavens opened and poured Noah’s flood onto her head. Then the thought of Ned in his shirtsleeves soaking wet was planted in her brain.
And the accursed man was looking at her as if he knew exactly what was in her thoughts. He had a half smile on his face and was walking toward her.
“Jane,” he said. “I came here today because…”
But whatever else he’d been about to say was drowned out by the sound of a wagon coming up the drive. Jane hoped it was Mr. Johnson coming back to give Ned a mild thrashing. But without even turning, she knew her luck had finally run out.
The wagon came to a halt and Vi jumped out. “Mama! We’re going to fix the roof! We’re not going to get rained on inside anymore!”
She ran to her mother and gave her a big hug.
Jane kept her eyes on top of her daughter’s head as long as she could before the weight of Ned’s glare finally made her look up.
She’d never in her life seen anyone so shocked. And so very, very angry.
CHAPTER TEN
It wasn’t possible, thought Ned. It couldn’t be true. But as Vi turned to him and chatted away about her trip to town, he looked into the emerald eyes that were identical to his own. Even if the physical aspects hadn’t been so clear, her mother’s behavior would’ve confirmed it. She’d barely looked him in the eye since her daughter’s arrival. His daughter. Their daughter.
He knew he had to say something to the child. He hadn’t even said hello, not that she’d waited for word from him before launching into her story. But he had to choose his first words wisely. Of course, he’d already said his first words to her. He just hadn’t known who she was at the time. He’d thought she was a farmer’s child. She hadn’t been wearing any shoes, although a quick looked showed she was wearing some at the moment. And she lived in a house with a leaky roof. She’d spoken of getting rained on inside, for God’s sake. His daughter.
“I’m glad you enjoyed your visit to town, poppet,” he said. “I’d like to hear more of your story later. Much more. But right now I need to speak to your mama.”
“Okay,” she said with a smile that lit up her face. His daughter was beautiful. “Will you stay for tea?”
“Lord Edward was just leaving,” said her mother.
Her mother certainly wished it were so, thought Ned with more than a small degree of satisfaction. But he wouldn’t be so obliging. “Thank you. I’d love to stay for tea. Miss Wetherby, where can we have a word in private?”
“This isn’t a good time. I have to fix the roof.”
“The roof can wait.”
His tone was deadly serious. Jane knew he’d never harm her, but was dangerous nonetheless. He had the power to upend her entire life.
“Come with me,” he said, as he took her by the elbow and walked away from the house. When they were far enough away to not be overheard, he stopped, but held onto her.
“Tell me everything.”
“I can’t imagine what you mean.”
“Stop it, Jane. Vi’s my daughter, isn’t she?”
As Jane tried to think of something to say – anything to prolong the inevitable – he spoke again. “There are only two people who have eyes that color. My sister Elizabeth and me. Apparently, there is now a third.”
Jane finally looked at him, unflinchingly. “Yes, she is the product of the night we spent in Belgium.”
Though he’d known it to be true, the words still hit him with surprising force. Even as a young man in his teens, he’d taken care not to get a woman with child. It was a discipline that his father, then his elder brother had insisted upon. His was not a completely unfettered life. He had a responsibility to the family name which did not include fathering illegitimate children. And, more importantly, he’d never wanted to bring a child into the world who’d face that stigma.
That one night in Belgium had been the exception to the rule. When he’d set out on his mission the day before, he hadn’t thought he’d even see another woman, so he’d had no French letters on him. And in the heat of their lovemaking, he hadn’t thought to pull out. It had been that all-consuming.
Then Jane had paid the price for it. And Vi would forever bear the stigma.
“Why didn’t you find me? She’s my daughter. I had a right to know.”
“And what would you have done? Would you have rented me a nice little house in the country where I could have the babe, then arrange for her to be adopted? Then would you have rented me a nice little house in town so I could pay off my debt to you as your mistress? That is the position you offered when last I saw you in Belgium, is it not?”
Damn. The woman had a way of making a man feel at odds. What would he have done if she’d told him she was with child? Seven years ago he’d been a headstrong young man who wanted to make his way in the world. He hadn’t been ready to settle down and he had offered to make her his mistress. He didn’t know what he would’ve done had he known, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t have been all that different from the scenario she’d just put forth.
“So what did you do?” he asked.
“I returned to London. My grandfather had tracked me down in Belgium and sent servants to take me back to England. I was gone the very next day. I went back to live with my chaperone, a crony of my grandfather’s. When my…condition became apparent, he was outraged.”
“You’re the granddaughter of an earl. I can only imagine the scandal it caused.”
“I got through it.”
“Did your grandfather become violent?” Ned’s voice was quiet, but filled with an emotion Jane couldn’t quite interpret.
“He never struck me. But he made it known that I was to retire to a house in the country, far removed from anyone connected to society, have the babe then give it to a family to raise. I refused. He virtually disowned me.”
Ned could only imagine the hell she’d gone through. Alone. Without any help from him or anyone. And he admired her even more for it. “How have you survived? I can’t imagine your patients pay you enough.”
“They pay what they can. And once I can afford a solicitor I intend to get the rest of my inheritance released.”
“I can afford one.”
“This is none of your concern.”
“The hell it isn’t,” he said as he raked his fingers through his hair. “This is my child you’re talking about. I won’t allow her or her mother – no matter how exasperating you may be – to go without food and decent clothing. I don’t think I’ve ev
er seen the sprite in shoes except today.”
“She has shoes,” said Jane indignantly. “She just doesn’t like to wear them.”
“What about a governess?”
“I teach her.”
“That’s not enough.”
She raised her chin a notch. “We make do. Vi is a very bright child. She’s also quite happy. And she knows she’s loved.”
Ned thought about that, then nodded. After a moment’s silence, he walked toward the house.
“You’re not going to tell Vi who you really are, are you?” asked Jane as she hurried after him.
“That would be difficult since she believes her father is dead.”
“I didn’t know how else to explain it at such a young age.”
“And later?” he asked, turning toward her.
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
The hell she hadn’t, thought Ned. She’d decided to never tell their daughter the truth. She’d never have told him. Jane had known who he was all those years ago. She’d known where to find him, or at least his family. But she would’ve been perfectly content to keep his daughter’s existence a secret from him forever.
“Where are you going?” asked Jane.
“I have a roof to fix,” he said as he headed toward the wagon where Farrell was unloading supplies.
“You can’t fix our roof, Ned.”
That got him to stop and face her.
“Madam, you are no longer going to tell me what I can or cannot do concerning the welfare of my daughter. I don’t have many answers for the future, but I can tell you right now that I will not allow her to sleep in a house where she’ll be rained on. So I’m going to work with your men to fix the roof, then you, Vi and I will sit down to tea. And at that point, I hope we have more of an idea of how to carry on. Do I make myself clear?”
“Very,” said Jane as she swallowed.
“Good. And I advise you to keep your distance because I am not well pleased with you.”
Never a Mistress, No Longer a Maid (Kellington Book One) Page 9