Jane and the Sins of Society

by Sarah Waldock

  Mrs. Fielding coloured.

  “He was what I had at my disposal,” she said.

  “As he is no longer at your disposal, the attempts at killing people stop,” said Jane. “For Cora’s sake, if you have any problems, you will tell me, and I will sort them out. And once Cora is safely wed, I strongly suggest that you retire to the country, and accidentally take an overdose of laudanum. I am told that the final stages of your illness are most unpleasant, and as you go insane, you will ramble, and might tell a nurse more than would be good for Cora.”

  “I understand,” Mrs. Fielding bowed her head. “I was terrified when you said your husband was with Bow Street, I thought you would take Cora and me in charge.”

  “I’m more interested in justice than the law,” said Jane. “You and your mother were treated unjustly. I can’t do a lot about that, but I can help you protect your daughter.”

  “And ... your husband? He lives, I take it?”

  “He lives, and he agrees with me, though if you cross me, I expect he’d save the hangman some rope.”

  “It must be nice to have a protective man.”

  “It is, and it makes up for Frank.”

  “That was true, then?”

  “I did not tell you one half of what it was like,” said Jane. “I have a lot of sympathy for any woman at the mercy of a man, though I confess, I was also rather moved by poor young Mr. Montgomery’s story.”

  Mrs. Fielding shrugged.

  “These crass men with crass appetites feel a need to force the same onto their sons, he’s not the first and he won’t be the last.”

  “I said something along the same lines to him. But he said he thought he recognised you because you and the madam reminded him of the senior matron at school.”

  “Poor brat,” said Mrs. Fielding. “Thank you; you have gone further than I could have hoped.”

  “Just get the girl married off fast. If the headaches have started, it won’t be long.”

  “If I go mad before I have had a chance to ... to fix laudanum for myself, will you do it?”

  “If you wish,” said Jane. “G-d help me, it should be against my beliefs to do so, but I would put a badly injured animal out of their pain, and why a human should suffer more, I cannot see as the will of G-d.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mrs. Fielding left with great dignity.

  “Mother love can be a terrible thing,” said Jane, softly to herself.

  Caleb came out of the closet and put his arms around her.

  “If you were protecting our girls, I imagine you’d be more efficient about it,” he said.

  “Caleb, if I ever set out to murder anyone, appalling as the thought is, I do not doubt that I could do so in such a way that murder was never even suspected, let along brought home to me. The thing about most people who dress a murder as an accident is that they over-egg the pudding, and put in too much scene dressing. Like a fish-bone loose in the throat.”

  “It’s just as well you aren’t that way inclined, isn’t it, my love?” said Caleb.

  “It is indeed,” agreed Jane.

  Cecily came upstairs when she was told that the visitor had gone. She glared at Jane.

  “Didja take risks?” she demanded.

  “No,” said Jane. “She was frightened enough to draw a pistol, but I pointed out I already had mine pointed at her. She put it away. I am sorry for her.”

  “How can you be sorry for her?”

  Jane drew Cecily into her arms, and the girl melted into the embrace hungrily.

  “Because she loves her daughter, and is prepared to kill to keep her safe. I’d kill to keep you safe, and Frances, and Susanna, but you see, I’m a cleverer woman than she is, and I’d explore other avenues of action first. She has had a hard life, and she is dying of the pox. Her daughter is wanting, and she wants the girl married to someone who will be kind to her. I can understand that. She has made some poor decisions, but I cannot feel that her daughter should suffer for them. If she had succeeded in killing poor Mr. Montgomery, then I might have been harsher.”

  “Ain’t anyfink a lot harsher than dying of the pox,” said Cecily. “Gawd! It’s one reason I dressed as a boy; a lot o’ people believe it can be cured by swiving a virgin, and they ain’t particular about the age, in fact the younger the better, to make sure a girl is a virgin.”

  Jane shuddered.

  “A callous and evil act,” she said. “No, there is very little which is harsher than dying of the pox. Cecily, dear, perhaps for me, you can manage to say ‘lud’ or ‘dear me!’ instead of ‘Gawd’.”

  “I’ll try,” said Cecily. “Pa useter say it, and it got ‘abit. Habit, I mean.”

  Jane took a carriage to Lady Lieven’s home, near to the Russian embassy, and sent her card in via the footman who showed her into a reception room and relieved her of her muff and pelisse. She did not have long to wait; and Lady Lieven joined her, followed by a footman with a dumb waiter holding an urn, and a variety of little cakes. The urn on the dumb waiter was an odd design, and Jane looked at it quizzically.

  “It’s a samovar, Lady Armitage,” said Lady Lieven. “Of all my acquaintances, I thought you might be brave enough to try Russian tea.”

  “I will try most things,” said Jane.

  Lady Lieven smiled.

  “The tea we favour is black without any green blended in it, a bohea called Lapsang Souchong, slightly different to the bohea teas favoured in England. It has a smoky taste, and we like it very strong.”

  “I confess, I find the tea made by many to be too weak to struggle out of the spout of the teapot,” said Jane. “I like my tea robust, and though I keep a blended variety for company, I prefer black tea to green.”

  “You will like Russian tea, then, my dear, and I will have a receipt sent over to you so you will know how to make it,” said Lady Lieven. “It is made in two parts; a concentrate in a teapot which is kept warm in the upper part of the samovar, and hot water added to taste from the lower part, kept piping hot by charcoal.”

  “Ah, so individual tastes may be catered to,” said Jane. “Thank you,” as Lady Lieven made her a cup.

  “I hope that is the right strength for you,” said Lady Lieven. “We do not add milk, but we use sugar, honey, jam and lemon as flavours. I like mine with honey and lemon.”

  “I will join you in that,” said Jane, recklessly. Lady Lieven added the extras for her, and Jane sipped, cautiously. It was very hot.

  It was also pleasant, although nothing like tea as she knew it.

  “I like it,” she said.

  “I thought you might,” said Lady Lieven. “Try a tea cake, also traditional Russian.”

  Jane accepted and bit into the snowy white ball she was offered. The confection almost melted in her mouth, and Jane could taste vanilla and finely ground nuts.

  “I am tempted to come to live in Russia,” she said.

  “I will have you sent my cook’s receipt for these as well,” said Lady Lieven. “Now, I presume you have come to report? Are my suspicions well founded?”

  “Yes, and no, my lady,” said Jane. “Is there something underhand going on? Yes. Is there an explanation for that? Also yes. It is a story of tragedy, a woman betrayed, and scandal to Lady Caroline’s husband’s family. Our men traced the birth of Mrs. Fielding, who has adopted her father’s name. Her mother went through what she believed to be a marriage ceremony with a relative of Lady Caroline’s husband; I have not traced the precise relationship, but I understand it to be a first cousin. Mrs. Fielding was not brought up in a genteel manner, and her mother was forced into a certain profession. Mrs. Fielding’s daughter was born as a result of being too close to this, and she had little choice in the matter. Her daughter is, as I am sure you have noticed, no more capable of caring for herself than a kitten, and Mrs. Fielding was determined that her daughter should never be betrayed and misused as she was. Hence tracing her father’s relatives, and I fear that instead of throwing herself on Lady Car
oline’s mercy, she threatened her with scandal.”

  “We can’t have that; I will rescind her vouchers, and expose her.”

  “Lady Lieven, I beg that you will not. The scandal would be worse than letting Mrs. Fielding find an honest man who will marry and care for her daughter. She has promised me that if she can be permitted to do this, she will disappear from society.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  “Actually, yes. She was very frightened, not for herself, but for the unfortunate Cora. She has not set her sights high, she just wants Cora to have the life of a gentlewoman, which she should have been entitled to, had not there been an ungentlemanly betrayal by one Harry Fielding.”

  “Oh, Harry Fielding was a libertine. Now I understand more. A form of marriage ceremony? Iniquitous behaviour, and I am sorry for Caro, but I have to say, the Fielding family do owe something for such a piece of nikultyurny, uncultured, behaviour. I am angry that the Fielding woman did not confide in me, rather than letting Caro put her forward, but I hear your words, and such a scandal will add nothing to the reputation to either Caro or to Almack’s. I will accept your recommendation for clemency, but of course, I will not invite Mrs. Fielding to any of my personal soirées, and I will write to her asking her to refrain from attending Almack’s. There are other balls.”

  Jane bowed from the waist.

  “Thank you for your kindness, my lady. I see the position as a mother of daughters, as of course I know you will, having a daughter yourself.”

  “Indeed. I confess, I do have some admiration for the boldness of this woman, as well as understanding her desire to establish her daughter. Thank you for undertaking this investigation. Is it true that there was an attempt on your life?”

  “Mrs. Fielding’s man was very loyal, and tried to make sure I would not be able to speak to anyone about what I had found out. I shot him dead,” said Jane.”

  “Dear me! You certainly take such things in your stride.”

  “I had wondered if he would attack me, but I miscalculated and assumed he would attack me in my home,” said Jane. “In which case, I should have been able to plan to capture him. However, loyal or not, I do not think he was a very nice man, and I do not regret saving my own life at the expense of his, as he had already shot my husband. Fortuitously, not fatally; he was winded, and his watch will never be the same again, as it stopped the bullet. I might have felt less charitable had I lost my husband,”

  “Indeed, quite so! My dear Lady Armitage, I am glad that the outcome was happy. Thank you for your expeditious investigations. You must take Russian tea with me again; it has been most enjoyable.”

  Jane was dismissed, and she rose to curtsy and take her leave.

  Chapter 16

  Jane ran into the last person she wished to meet at a musicale, hosted by Lady Caroline. Jane had not wanted to go, but she felt it behoved her to look out for the hapless Cora.

  “Why, Jane, dearest! How well you look!” the sickly sweet voice belonged to Rosalind Liddel. Jane suppressed a sigh. She turned to regard her one-time nemesis. Time had not treated Rosalind as well as it had treated Jane. Jane recalled a beautiful girl with rose petal skin and curling dark hair framing a pixie-like face. Too much good living meant that Lady Liddel carried a bit more weight than was entirely attractive, and though a plump, rounded figure was to the taste of many men, it had obscured the piquant little face with something suspiciously close to a second chin. The perfect complexion too was damaged by late nights and smoking candles, and lines of discontent stood etched upon it in the harsh lighting of a fine candelabrum. Those lines tightened in barely suppressed anger; Jane knew her own looks had improved with maturity. Jane looked into the sneering eyes of her old tormentor and remembered every slight.

  Rosalind Liddel was dressed in a gown of midnight blue, shot with silver threads woven into the muslin, so that as she moved, she shimmered. On a slimmer figure, one might have made comparisons to stars twinkling in the night sky. The décolletage was low enough to reveal two half moons with rather more craters than were entirely attractive.

  “Rosalind? Is that you? I am glad that Mrs. Fielding told me you had asked after me, or I should never have recognised you,” said Jane, only slightly mendaciously. It was a very childish and petty revenge, but the once richer, prettier girl who had sneered at Jane, was not at a disadvantage. Jane’s air of serene contentment loaned her a beauty which made Lady Liddel curl her fingers into claws.

  “I hear your intention to become a governess disappeared when you were able to snare a rich man,” said Rosalind. “I’m told he has a son, you were the boy’s governess, I suppose?”

  “Dear me, Rosalind, how well I remember Miss Harper telling you that your suppositions were no substitute for facts,” said Jane.

  “What do you mean? You married a rich man, did you not?”

  “No,” said Jane. “I married a poor man, and helped him to become rich. I am proud of my husband’s efforts.”

  “Oh, he is in trade?”

  “No, unlike your father, he is a professional man, and he has gained awards for his efforts for Lloyds of London,” said Jane. “He became involved with Bow Street when he was injured at Corunna.”

  “Didn’t he gain a portion of Joseph Bonaparte’s baggage train?” Rosalind’s nose was twitching.

  “I just told you he was injured, and invalided out at Corunna.”

  “But why do you emphasise that and not answer my question?” whined Rosalind.

  “Rosalind, have you worked hard to lose the few wits you had at school?” asked Jane. “If he was wounded at Corunna, which was in 1809, how would he have still been on the Peninsula to loot Joseph Bonaparte’s baggage train in 1814?”

  Rosalind stared.

  “I thought Corunna was a place,” she said.

  “It is, but the place name is used to refer to a well-known battle which took place there,” said Jane, trying not to sigh in exasperation.

  “This is why you should have been a governess, you care about stupid things like politics and geography,” said Rosalind.

  “At least my knowledge prevents me from making an utter fool of myself,” said Jane. “Moreover, my husband likes me to discuss current affairs with him, and by that I mean matters of politics and foreign policy, not whether the Princess of Wales is entertaining half of Horse Guards.”

  “Oh my, is she?”

  “I neither know, nor care, and I made up such a ridiculous piece of nonsense as a conversational gambit in contrast to real news,” said Jane.

  “My husband knows better than to talk to me about boring things,” said Rosalind. “Though I confess, he will talk about it to others, so tedious. I might have had a much more interesting husband.”

  “I do hope you were not planning to wager that he lives a long and tedious life?” said Jane.

  Rosalind paled.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “If I was you, I’d carry on not knowing what I mean, and not mentioning that you don’t know what I mean to that personable young man who takes wagers,” said Jane. “You would not enjoy transportation; the climate of Australia is so bad for the skin.”

  “I never liked you at school.”

  “Oh, you don’t know how pleased that makes me. I should hate to have been liked by someone I despise quite as intensely as I have always despised you.”

  Rosalind flounced off.

  “I’ve been waiting to say that for years,” said Jane, to herself.

  “Excuse me, I could not help overhearing,” a man emerged from behind a potted palm. “You were just speaking to my wife.”

  “We did not get on well at school,” said Jane.

  “Ah, I would not have recognised you for the ‘poor little dab of a thing’ who ‘snared herself a wealthy man’. Sir Henry Liddel at your service.”

  “I am not going to apologise, Sir Henry, your wife went to lengths to belittle me when we were children, and she must learn to live with the idea that
I will not permit her to do so now we are grown, and I have found my confidence.”

  “Oh, I had no intention of suggesting it. I was just intrigued about the last part of the conversation. I believe you inferred that my life might not be long and tedious.”

  Jane bit her lip.

  “It was a bow drawn at venture, but one which shockingly hit the mark,” she said. “A number of people have inherited from hale, hearty people who have suffered accidents. It seems that a wager is laid that an ... impediment ... will live a long time. Someone counters that, and of course paying off a gambling debt over a wager is not payment for a hired killer.”

  “I see. Which personable young man is running this?”

  “Sir Henry, if I knew that, he would be under arrest and I could shake the dust of London from my feet and go home,” said Jane. “I have only told you this much because I don’t see why you should become a victim. I pray you will not mention this to anyone else, though I do suggest that you let your wife know that if you die of an accident of any kind, you have remade your will to leave all your worldly goods to an orphan-asylum, and a list of notes of her suspicious activities to Bow Street.”

  “I don’t have a list of notes about her suspicious activities.”

  “No reason she needs to know that,” said Jane. “And you might do well to make one and lodge it with your solicitor.”

  “I’ll do that, thank you,” he said, grimly. “She was so pretty and merry, and I was captivated. It took me a while to discover that she wasn’t very clever, and she was a shrew.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Jane.

  He shrugged.

  “Caveat emptor,” he said. “Oh, beg pardon, that means ... I say, you know!”

  Jane smiled.

  “I actually enjoyed the Latin classes at school. And yes, I fear the buyer should beware in marriage.”

  Perhaps it had been a wasted opportunity; if she had permitted Rosalind to make that preposterous wager, then Sir Henry might have been watched day and night, and the active half of what Jane suspected was a partnership of two men might have been seized in the act. Somehow, however, Jane balked at seeing any old schoolfellow make herself into a murderess.