“You cannot let Judd marry Bella, Papa. You know what I told you about him. He imbibed too much at a dance in York and manhandled me, drew me outside…” her face grew hot, “… he likes certain things… in the bedchamber. He is a violent man, Papa.”
“Rubbish. He apologized for being under the weather. Judd is an exemplary man who treats women with a good deal of old fashioned courtesy. He will make an excellent husband. You display an appalling lack of sensibility, my girl. I find it extraordinary how someone of your tender upbringing has drawn such a long and most distressing bow over something you assumed he meant. You should consider the seriousness of such an unfounded accusation.”
She recalled the dangerous look in Judd’s eye, the rough tone of his voice. It had horrified her at the time, and did, every time she thought of it. She stared at him. “Papa, you cannot mean to make Bella his wife.”
He ran a hand through his gray hair. “I do. You must accept it. Now go to bed, Jenny.”
Her sisters and brothers had gathered in the parlor. The dog scurried over tail wagging while the two cats watched with apparent disinterest from the window seat. Beth’s latest find, an orphaned baby otter she was raising to return to the river, observed her from its box. As Jenny curled up in an overstuffed armchair, her fingers plucking the fraying damask arms, they all began to speak at once.
“What is the duke’s home like, Jenny?” Edmond asked her. “Does it have a chapel?”
“Yes, I believe so, although I didn’t see it. We always went to church on Sunday.”
“Is the house very big?” Beth asked.
“It’s enormous, three times the size of our home, and very old.”
Beth widened her eyes. “Older than this?”
“Indeed yes. Two hundred years or more.”
“Was the duke in the army?” Charlie asked, elbowing his brother aside on the sofa.
Jenny pushed away the image of a pair of warm blue eyes. “No, he was a diplomat in Vienna.”
“What’s a diplomat? Did he fight duels?”
“Only with words, Charlie.”
Charlie slumped down and crossed his arms.
Papa walked into the room. “Go to bed, children. It is long past your bedtime.”
The boys grumbling, they filed out of the parlor and climbed the stairs.
Bella came into Jenny’s bedchamber to see to the warming pan. “I hope these sheets aren’t damp. You might suffer from rheumatism.”
“I am not yet in my dotage, goose,” Jenny said with a smile. She sobered. “How are you really, Bella?”
Bella shrugged. “I wish I might be more content marrying Mr. Judd. But I do want my own establishment. Papa says if I don’t marry soon, I’ll be too old and must remain to care for him, because you wouldn’t. I’d die if I had to stay here forever.”
Jenny bit her lip on a retort. “That’s the last thing that would ever happen to you, dearest.”
Bella perched on the bed and pushed back a golden ringlet from her brow. “Why did you come home?”
“Your letter shocked and upset me.”
Bella’s lovely blue eye’s grew shadowed. “Papa wishes it.”
“But you do not.”
“Mr. Judd is all politeness. But I can’t warm to him, although I do try. His mother seems kind.”
“Judd is well into his thirties. He is far too old for you.” She studied her pretty sister. “What about Glyn, Bella?”
Bella sighed. “Papa will never accept him.”
“He considers a farmer’s son to be beneath us. Do you ever see Glyn?”
“Papa says I will begin to speak like a Yorkshire farmer, so I am forbidden to speak to him now. Sometimes I see him working the land when we drive to the village. He waves to me, but we never meet.”
Jenny sat down on the bed, anger bubbling up inside her. “Do you still care for him?”
Bella sighed. “I try not to think of him, but I must confess I do, at night especially. I have tried to forget him, but it doesn’t help that there are no eligible men at the assembly dances either in York or Harrogate. Many are even older than Mr. Judd, or too young to marry, and none are as wealthy as Judd is.”
“You asked me why I came home.” Jenny picked her words carefully, aware of what an innocent her sister was. “It was because I’m determined you shall not marry him. I dislike Mr. Judd.”
Bella sat beside her. “That is why you left us, wasn’t it?”
“No, there was more to it than mere dislike, but I can’t explain it right now, dearest. You’ll have to trust me.”
Bella hugged her. “Of course, I do. I’m so relieved you’re here. You’ll find a way, Jenny,” she said with a smile. “You’re so clever.”
Their father’s voice carried up the stairs. “Time to go to sleep. Douse the candles!”
Bella kissed her cheek. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I am feeling so much more confident now that you’re here.”
Jenny’s fears tightened her ribcage. A woman had so little power against the strictures of men. How could she save her sister from that man? Bella had never been strong, a man like Judd would destroy her. She rose and opened the window. It had begun to rain. The damp night breeze wafted in smelling of drenched foliage, banishing the stale air. Jenny rubbed her arms. Her father didn’t light fires in the bedchambers until the worst of the winter weather was upon them. They were always suffering from colds. She shivered as she undressed to change into a nightgown, then poured water from the jug to wash. Her hair quickly braided, she climbed into bed and toasted her feet near the bedwarmer. She blew out the candle and closed her eyes. There was only one thing she could do. Bella and Beth relied on her. The boys too. For that reason if none other, she was glad to be home, but she was unable to prevent her thoughts from returning to Castlebridge, to William and Barbara, and a lump formed in her throat. She pictured the duke, walking into his library with that easy grace she’d come to admire, and discovering her letter. Would he be hurt, angry, or merely disgusted to find her gone?
She must not think of him, or the children, it hurt too much. Especially now that she had made up her mind what must be done.
*
It was late when Andrew arrived home. The butler had retired, and a footman opened the door to him. Tired, and looking forward to some peace at last, he went to bed, and slept deeply for the first time in months.
In the morning, his butler sought him out at the breakfast table. He looked up from sawing through a piece of ham. “What is it Forrester?”
“Miss Harrismith left yesterday, Your Grace.”
He put down his knife and fork and stared at his butler, fearing his reason. “What do you mean, left? Left Castlebridge?”
“She has gone home to York. Mr. Bishop has her letter. Jem drove her to the Black Lion in the gig where she bought a ticket on the stage-coach.”
Andrew sat back in his chair. What had drawn her home? Jenny would never have left in such a manner without an excellent reason. “Send Bishop to me, will you, Forrester.”
Andrew was drinking coffee when his secretary came in. “You have a letter from Miss Harrismith, Anthony?”
“Yes, Your Grace, I was about to bring it. There’s also a note for the children.” He held them out.
Andrew took them from him and scanned her letter. Jenny wrote that she was sorry, she had been called home, on a matter of urgency. She would not be returning to Castlebridge and wished him and the children every happiness for the future.
She wasn’t coming back. Andrew could hardly believe it. He pushed back his chair and rose. “What the devil? Couldn’t she have waited for my return?”
“Jem has been questioned, Your Grace,” Bishop said. “It appears Miss Harrismith was upset about something, but wouldn’t say what it was.”
“She wishes me success in finding another governess,” he said, raising his eyebrows as he struggled to get his mind around it. More fool him to believe that merely caring for someone brought contentment. He’
d been proved wrong about that before.
Bitterly disappointed, he went up to the nursery, knowing how distressed the children would be. Before he entered, he took a moment to calm himself. William and Barbara were more important than anything else. Not a word against Jenny would he speak although he could not fathom how she could hurt them in this way.
He surveyed their tearful faces. William with his small shoulders stiff with sorrow, and Barbara crying in his arms. The hour he spent trying to make them understand why Jenny had abandoned them without a word, when he didn’t know himself, was one of the low points of his life. Helpless to provide an answer to the cruel disappointment served on them, he finally had to leave them in Miss Green’s care, after taking her aside and insisting she be gentle with them. He didn’t hold with her opinion that one had to face whatever life dealt one uncomplainingly and decided on the spot that he would replace her as soon as he could. Another change to unsettle the children, he thought, despairing.
When he reached the library, his curiosity pushed away his anger. It was totally unlike Jenny to abandon his children in such a manner. She explained in her letter that it was better if he told William and Barbara rather than herself. Then they would have their loving father there to support them. Had the young woman he’d so admired, who had managed to creep through the fortifications he’d built around his heart after Catherine died, be just someone who, on a whim, left unresolved issues behind her?
Andrew grimly crumpled the letter and tossed it down. It appeared she was not the woman he thought her.
He returned to his paperwork, but he couldn’t let the matter rest. Something had occurred of great significance to cause her to rush home. Perhaps her father was ill. But if so why not mention it? Her letter had been frustratingly brief and left him completely in the dark. Had the frightening business with Ivo left her more shaken than he’d supposed? Did she wish to put the whole sorry episode behind her? He thumped the desk. Then why not tell him, dammit? Was he such a tyrant that she feared to confide in him?
When he cooled down, he began to think more clearly. Retrieving Jenny’s letter, he smoothed it out. The last paragraph which he’d initially skipped over, leapt out at him. If I might ask one thing of you, Your Grace, Miss Green plans to prevent Barbara from visiting the stables. I do hope that doesn’t happen. The kittens have become important to Barbara and she will be greatly upset not to be able to watch them grow.
He shook his head. It was not the letter of someone who cared little for her charges. Jenny loved his children, he was convinced of it. Something had occurred to draw her home, and for whatever reason, she refused to tell him what it was. The least he could do would be to send a footman to inquire if she’d arrived safely. Good lord, she would have been traveling at night, alone without even a maid.
He had not given Jenny’s letter to the children. And would not until he was confident the matter was at an end. He picked up his pen and thoughtfully pared the quill with a small knife, then he dashed off a letter to her, blotted it, sealed it with a wafer and went to pull the bell cord.
When a footman entered, he handed him the missive. “Deliver this in person to Miss Harrismith at Wetherby Park in York. Wait for her reply.”
George bowed. “Yes, Your Grace.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
After breakfast, Jenny walked into her father’s library. He looked up from his desk. “You are indeed fortunate that I am prepared to forgive you for your disgraceful conduct, and welcome you back into the fold, and only because I have managed to keep your behavior a secret from York society.”
“What did you tell Mr. Judd, Papa?”
“That you were called away to care for your aunt in London, and did not feel that, in the circumstances you could marry. Judd handled it with remarkable aplomb, which shows the character of the man. And when he posed the question of marrying Bella, I thought it extremely generous of him. A man of his wealth and breeding might choose a bride from any number of good families with generous dowries. An excellent idea it is too, as Bella still pines for the young man next door who now plows the land that was once ours, and will never be more than a farmer.”
“As nothing has yet been formalized between Mr. Judd and Bella, I have decided to marry him. If he still wants me,” Jenny said. “I am closer in age to him and more experienced in managing a household than Bella. You can tell him that he will be assured of a well-run house.”
Surprised, Papa left his chair. “I am glad you’ve come to your senses, Jenny. But your objections to him were very strong why have you changed your mind?”
“I want to marry and have children, Papa. And perhaps I was wrong about Judd. I might grow to like him when I know him better.” And I will be there to protect my sisters from a brute, she wanted to scream at him.
There was no point in appealing to her father again concerning Judd’s proclivities. He had dismissed their earlier conversation out of hand, calling it a complete nonsense. He came around the desk to rest his hands on her shoulders and gaze into her eyes. “Are you sparing Bella because of this tender she has for Glyn Millichamp?” He frowned, dropped his hands, and turned back to his desk. “Be aware I shall not change my mind about him.”
“I understand that, Papa.” She swallowed on a sigh, wanting to be honest with him, but what was the point? He would refuse to see it and she had to handle him carefully. “I will marry Judd if he promises to arrange for Bella to have a London Season.”
“Seasons are an expensive business, and there is no one to chaperone her for her Come-out.”
“Judd’s mother might agree to it. Or there’s Aunt Leonora. She lives in Mayfair.”
“Your aunt is quite an age now, I doubt she’d agree.”
“No, perhaps not, but as a married lady of almost twenty-four, there’s no reason why I cannot be Bella’s chaperone.”
“I shall ask Judd to call on us, but I daresay he will dislike being dictated to by a young woman. And he may prefer a more malleable girl like Bella.”
“Society will frown on us if your first-born daughter isn’t married before the other girls.” Jenny shrugged. “But if Judd refuses me I shall go to London and take another governess position.”
He banged the desk with his fist. “I could take disciplinary action where you’re concerned, young lady. Fathers have every right to do so.”
Jenny lifted her chin. “I hope that you will see the sense of my suggestion, Papa.”
He bent his head and studied his hands. “Very well. I will attempt to convince Judd of the rightfulness of marrying you.”
“Thank you. May I tell Bella?”
“You may. I’m confident that Judd will agree. After all, nothing has been announced. He always seeks to do the correct thing. And as he requires an efficient wife to run his house, because his mother plans to go and live with her sister, you are certainly better suited for that than Bella, who moons about in the most annoying fashion.”
Jenny left the library. She was forced to lean against the wall when her knees gave way.
Bella appeared in the hall and hurried to take her arm. “Are you all right, Jenny?”
“Yes, I was a little dizzy. I must have risen too fast. Come to my bedchamber, Bella, I have something to tell you.”
Bella listened quietly as Jenny explained what she had decided to do. “You would marry Mr. Judd? Is it to spare me?”
“There’s another reason.”
A frown marred Bella’s smooth forehead. “Won’t you tell me what it is?”
“Not yet, Bella. Please, don’t ask me.”
Bella studied her anxiously. “I can see your mind is made up. And once that happens it would be useless for me to try to change it. But I fear for you, dearest. You are sacrificing yourself for all of us.”
“No. I am twenty-three and too old to consider myself on the marriage mart. If a well-born gentleman of such excellent prospects wants me, I really should be grateful. And I will be living here in York close to the f
amily. It is certainly preferable to working as a governess.”
“There is that certainly.” Bella gazed at her doubtfully. “But I wish I could believe you. If that was the case you would have married Judd when he first asked you. Isn’t that so?”
“Papa and I butted heads, and I suppose I wasn’t ready to marry. I wanted an adventure. Well, I’ve had my adventure, Bella. I’m ready now to settle down.”
With a worried glance, Bella drifted over to the window. She started and pulled back the curtain, a faint flush on her cheeks. “Hearts don’t really break, do they?”
“Oh, Bella!” Jenny followed her. Beyond the trees, a horseman, tall in the saddle, rode over the hill on the way to the village. Glyn Millichamp. “No, but they can be wounded, dearest.”
“A farmer’s son isn’t a gentleman, Papa says. I shall become a Yorkshire housewife. As if I care.”
Jenny hugged her around the waist. “Well at least you shall have a wonderful Season in London and meet many eligible gentlemen.” She had expected Bella to be pleased, but her sister merely nodded.
Just past noon, a grand black coach pulled up in the carriageway before the house. Jenny heard the wheels crunching on the gravel and rushed to the window. The duke! Her pulse raced as she hurried downstairs, her mind in a whirl. She opened the door expecting to find His Grace, but it was the footman, George, who walked up the steps. He removed his hat. “Good day to you, Miss Harrismith.”
Jenny’s euphoria left her. How foolish to think His Grace would come, she was like a green girl suffering her first crush, instead of a mature woman. She fought to hide her bitter disappointment as she stepped forward with a smile of welcome. “George, how nice to see you. Please come in to the parlor.”
The footman followed her inside. “I bear a letter from His Grace.” He pulled it from his coat pocket and held it out to her.
Jenny took it, eager to read its contents. “May I offer you a glass of lemonade and something to eat?”
“No, thank you. I must return immediately. His Grace requires an answer.”
Regency Scandals and Scoundrels Collection Page 66