The Persuasion of Miss Jane Brody

by Hargreaves, Isabella

  Jane almost gasped in surprise.

  “So that we may talk at our leisure about your cause, of course,” added Lord Dalton smoothly.

  Three

  At eight o’clock a loud rap on the knocker of Reverend Brody’s front door sounded and the housekeeper, Mrs Creevy, hastened to answer it. Jane was still upstairs assisting her sister with her hair combs. She heard a masculine voice and assumed the coachman’s offsider had come to the door to inform them of the carriage’s arrival. She immediately collected her reticule. “Anna, come downstairs as soon as you’re ready. I’ll tell his lordship’s man to wait.” She hurried down the staircase only to halt halfway down the last flight of stairs, pinned by the arrested look on Lord Dalton’s face as he stood in the hallway below looking up at her.

  Feeling her face heat up, she knew a pink blush was spreading across her cheeks. This evening she had allowed her sister to dress her hair in an elaborate upswept Grecian knot from which her golden hair curled down to dance around her neck.

  “Miss Brody, good evening. I trust we are not too early. May I complement you. You are looking quite spectacular. That shade of pink suits you very well. Does it not, Elizabeth?” He half turned revealing his slight sister in his shadow.

  “Oh, indeed Miss Brody. Ashes of roses must certainly be your colour.”

  “Thank you. My sister will not be much longer. Our apologies for delaying you.”

  A door nearby opened and Reverend Brody stepped into the hall. He appeared a little confused by the appearance of two extra people in his house. Jane introduced her father to Lord Dalton and his sister. “Dalton, you say? I believe I knew your mother when she was Miss Amelia Lansdown. Was a friend of my wife’s from their first Season in London. Lovely woman. Had eyes for no-one but your father – married him at the end of the Season. It took me a little longer to convince my Constance to have me as I was only a younger son and a clergyman. Her family hoped for a better match. A pity your mother passed away so young. My Constance missed her fearfully.” He paused and considered the pair in front of him. “You look a lot like her, Lady Elizabeth.”

  “You are very kind Reverend Brody. I’m afraid I never knew my mother as she died when I was born. But my brother remembers her well as he is ten years older than me.”

  A small silence followed. The appearance of Anna at the top of the staircase, dressed in white with her hair simply arranged with a silver ribbon threaded through her blond waves, relieved the awkward pause.

  “Here comes Anna,” said Jane.

  “Ah my dear Anna, you look splendid,” said the Reverend. “Have a wonderful time at the ball.”

  “We will Papa,” she responded.

  Gathering the ladies together and wishing Reverend Brody a good evening, Lord Dalton led them to the carriage where his coachman stood by the open door.

  Lord Dalton handed each lady into the carriage and Jane seated herself on the comfortable leather seat facing the front.

  He then stepped into the carriage and seated himself beside his sister directly in front of Jane.

  As he stretched out his long legs he bumped Jane’s before his limbs came to rest close to her own. She felt the heat from his stockinged calves warming her own as he lounged at his ease.

  An occasional waft of the sandalwood-scented soap he used tickled her nose. She liked the pleasant aroma. The light of a lantern illuminated the interior of the carriage from time to time, briefly revealing his face with his dark eyes concentrated on her. She found it discomforting and bewildering to be the focus of this man’s attention. She wondered if he was intentionally making her aware of him or was it just her imagination?

  They travelled through the darkened streets for a few minutes before the carriage halted and light flared inside as the coachman opened the door and let down the stairs for their exit.

  After leaving their cloaks with the porter and proceeding towards the brightly lit ballroom, the noise of a hundred voices talking at once assaulted their hearing. Mrs Courtice, as President of the charity group, greeted them at the door. “Such a pleasure to see you again my lord. I hope your presence here is an indication of your intended greater involvement in our cause?”

  “My dear Mrs Courtice, I am here to enjoy the ball and act as an escort to my sister. Nothing more; nothing less. I have every expectation of having an enjoyable evening.”

  Mrs Courtice may have answered but before she could do so, he continued, “And I fear we must leave you as I can see sets forming for the first dance.”

  Turning to his sister he asked, “Do you have a partner Elizabeth?”

  “Oh yes,” she replied looking around. “Dr Logan… and here he is.”

  They greeted the slender gentleman with greying hair and moved off to join a set. Lord Dalton led Jane to the line of ladies. Her eyes then followed his retreating back as he strode off to take his place in the gentleman’s line, admiring his well-cut black coat stretched across broad shoulders. The orchestra played the opening bars of a familiar melody. The dance began and Jane was soon performing the complicated movements in synchrony with her partner, his warm large hands grasping and releasing hers as they came together and separated with the steps.

  The ballroom glittered with the light of hundreds of candles which warmed the air and intensified the scent of the late blooming flowers. A chandelier lit the centre of the room, its light shining on the dancers below. The orchestra on its dais played two of Jane’s favourite tunes for their country dances. An audience arranged itself on the sofas and chairs at the sides of the ballroom, talking and waiting for the return of their protégés.

  The half hour passed quickly and Jane was soon watching a new set of dancers array themselves on the dance floor. Dr Logan returned a blushing Lady Elizabeth to her brother’s side and asked Jane for the next set. Lord Dalton didn’t appear to have noticed his sister’s heightened colour. The group changed partners, with Lord Dalton escorting his sister onto the floor. As she danced, Jane thought about Dr Logan and Lady Elizabeth. Curiosity and speculation warred with each other in her mind. Awake now to their interest in each other, she cautiously watched their behaviour. From time to time she saw each one’s glance towards the other when thought unobserved. She wondered how Lord Dalton and Lady Mulgrove would react to this mutual interest. She hoped it wouldn’t end in sadness for them both. Meanwhile, the opportunities for Jane and Lord Dalton to converse were cut short by the changing moves of the country dance, limiting their speech to small talk about the evening.

  A quick succession of partners made Jane’s evening fly past in an eddy of music, colour and laughter. Before she realised it the supper dance was next and Lord Dalton was asking her to accompany him. She placed her hand on his outstretched arm, feeling the warmth and firmness of his forearm beneath her palm.

  With the first bars of the waltz, Lord Dalton offered his left hand to her as he slid his right arm onto her waist. Her skin warmed at his touch and she glanced up into his dark eyes to find them gazing at her intently. Flustered, she looked down and found herself staring at his sapphire-studded cravat pin. With a brief pause to coordinate their start, Lord Dalton firmly whisked her into the dance. She gave herself up to his direction and felt her feet skim across the polished ballroom floor, lights and sounds whirling around her. She was conscious of his sandalwood scent at this close proximity.

  “Well Miss Brody, how are you enjoying the evening?” he asked.

  “So very much Lord Dalton. Balls are sufficiently infrequent in my life as to make them exciting.” She smiled up at him wondering whether such a gauche-sounding answer would make him disdain her. Too bad!

  Lord Dalton passed no comment, merely smiling in response and they lapsed into silence again. Jane felt relaxed and secure in his arms as he guided her around the ballroom. Swirling colours and candlelight danced around her partner as they circled the
ballroom. She closed her eyes briefly to enjoy the feeling of movement. Before Jane realised what was happening Lord Dalton had danced her through the French doors leading onto the balcony. She felt a rougher, cooler surface beneath her thin slippers. Her eyes opened with a start to find she had been seamlessly swept through the double doors and was being waltzed along the balcony above the garden. The air felt cool on her arms. As they continued to dance she relaxed her wariness. When after a few minutes away from the ballroom Lord Dalton circled his right arm around her waist, drawing her closer and moulding his body to hers, she was caught off guard. Pinned in a compromising position, her steps faltered and Lord Dalton stopped their progress. His handsome face loomed close in the half-light. Was he going to kiss her?

  Shocked and breathless she asked, “What are you doing?”

  Dalton released her and stepped back. “I beg your pardon Miss Brody, I allowed an impulse to overcome my good judgement. Shall we resume our dance?” His mellow voice was soothing.

  “Only if we return to the ballroom. The air is quite chilly out here.” Jane’s tone matched the frosty air.

  He silently led her into the ballroom and they resumed their waltz. This time Lord Dalton kept the required distance from Jane as he led her in floating circles around the dance floor. The warmth of his hand on her waist, the scent of his cologne and the blurred montage of colours in the ballroom filled Jane’s senses and she shivered with awareness of him. She gazed up in admiration at his long-lashed eyes, his straight nose leading to his smiling, sensual mouth. His hair curled across his temples in unruly deep brown waves, and his sturdy eyebrows seemed to arch in a query to her thoughts.

  Too soon the final bars of the tune were played.

  Dalton released her waist but kept hold of her hand and bowed to her, then tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as he led her off to the adjacent supper room. “Now, Miss Brody, let me fill a plate for you then we can have a comfortable chat.”

  He seated her at a small table in one corner of the room and strode to the buffet table. Jane looked around for Lady Elizabeth and wasn’t surprised to find her seated with Dr Logan at a little distance. She looked flushed with happiness, listening as Dr Logan explained something using expansive hand gestures.

  Returning to their table, Lord Dalton placed a full plate of pastries in front of Jane. She thanked him.

  He inclined his head. “You’re welcome Miss Brody. Now tell me about your family and how you became involved in all your causes.”

  “First tell me about yours, Lord Dalton.”

  He looked intently at her, hesitated, then began, “I have an indomitable aunt. She is determined that both Elizabeth and I make the greatest dynastic matches of the coming Season to those not only with vast wealth but address and looks to match.”

  Jane smiled in amusement. “And will she succeed?”

  “She may try! But for myself I believe I can determine my own best interest without her assistance. Nevertheless, she is like a terrier hunting a rat about the urgency of a marriage for the sake of an heir.”

  “No doubt that is of great importance for your family.”

  “It is because I have so many dependent female cousins!”

  “I hope Lady Elizabeth’s choice for her own future happiness is given as much due as yours shall be.”

  Lord Dalton considered her comment. “We shall see how well she chooses first.”

  Jane persisted in her questioning. “And if her suitor lacks presence, power and wealth, will she be granted her heart’s desire?”

  “I can’t promise that.” His brows snapped together to form a frown of annoyance.

  “What of her rights – to make decisions about her life and her happiness?”

  “Sometimes that is best determined for young women by their families, in particular, the head of that family.”

  “You keep a lot of power over her for yourself in other words.”

  “Indeed, and that is how it ought to be. Young women who are under age need some guidance. They don’t always make good decisions because of their youth. If your young sister was to choose an inappropriate marriage partner, would you not try to intervene or at least counsel caution?”

  “Yes, of course I would, but I wouldn’t have the power to stop her.”

  “Therein lies the difference.”

  “But should there be a difference?”

  “Of course. Men make decisions in this world. It is a woman’s role to obey.”

  “Enough! You put me out of countenance. I am angry just to hear this talk.” Jane flourished her fork.

  He disarmed her gently. “Let us change the subject, Miss Brody, before we come to blows. I can see that you are fuming. By the way, where is your sister at present?”

  “She is seated with Lady Elizabeth and Dr Logan, and has been since shortly after you brought out supper. I am keeping my eye on her although not keeping her by my side.”

  He looked over his shoulder and acknowledged the table of four comprising Mrs Courtice, Anna, his sister and Dr Logan. “Of course, I see her now.” He turned back to his conversation. “So, tell me about your good causes.”

  Inhaling slowly Jane consciously took control of her anger and focused on his question. “My causes, as you call them, are a number of charities in which my father was involved until my mother’s death. Through them I met Mrs Courtice who, as you probably know, is a driving force in most of those organisations. Her energy is infectious. We wouldn’t achieve half that we do without her as the commanding officer.”

  “What are those charities?” He looked attentively at her with his warm brown eyes.

  Such an attractive man, despite his politics. Jane continued her explanation. “An orphanage, a home which takes in unmarried expectant and fallen women, and a mission for young women who come to London from the country alone and are therefore vulnerable to being taken advantage of.”

  “How do you fund these charities? Just from donations?” Still he looked interested! Jane was used to seeing a glaze of boredom invade potential donors’ faces as she endeavoured to convince them to contribute.

  “Oh no. We do rely on donations of course, but we also try to be self-sufficient through taking in work with which to train the young women while they wait for their baby’s births, so they can support themselves afterwards. Then we try to establish them in the community, often together so they can share accommodation costs and work from home doing needlework, laundry and so forth. Any that have an education we try to assist into governess or teaching positions, although that means they need to leave their offspring at the orphanage, which is heart-rendering for them. Several have recently established a day school for infant children in their neighbourhood. They have done quite well. We are very proud of their success and so glad that we were able to help them become self-sufficient.” Jane watched him closely for signs of waning interest but detected none.

  “How did you contribute to that?”

  Jane was surprised by his question that showed that he was considering what she was saying.

  “By arranging and signing the lease on the house they use as the school and their home. A small capital injection is all that is usually needed.”

  “Indeed Miss Brody you are doing very good works.” He smiled.

  “Well, yes, but there is so much more to be done, so much poverty and distress in the world! If only women had the ability to earn a living in the same way that men do, but instead most employment opportunities are cut off from them. For a middle-class woman to take on work, unless it is as a companion or governess or school-mistress, is to lose her right to be called or treated as a lady. Is that fair or correct?”

  “Perhaps not, but that is the way of the world.”

  “That is exactly what needs to be changed.” Jane insisted. “And you can help us to do tha
t Lord Dalton. You have the influence and power to do something about the inequalities that women face in this world.” “Women are the responsibility of their fathers and brothers.”

  “They don’t all have fathers and brothers, and some have fathers and brothers who don’t care for them. Others have fathers and brothers you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy, they are so violent and abusive. That is why they need equal rights to employment and education.”

  “Of course you are right. But we can’t overturn the order of society for this minority of bad cases.”

  “But is it a minority or is it the silent majority who clamour for opportunities?”

  He dismissed her view. “Either way, it is the responsibility of each woman’s male family members to protect and support them.”

  Again Jane was reminded that Lord Dalton was an honourable but somewhat naïve man, believing that his sense of duty to women was replicated in all men. “Surely you can see that it just doesn’t happen that way for very many women. Can’t you use your position in society to support our cause to improve the quality of women’s lives through asserting their equality to men?”

  “At present, I can’t see how I can assist you Miss Brody. Much as I might wish to help you and your causes, I cannot fly in the face of the order of society. That is not my role in this country. It is to maintain stability, prosperity and opportunities for men to support their families.”

  Jane searched his face for a flicker of wavering from his implacable stance. Seeing none, she swallowed her disappointment and glanced away, looking for her sister.

  “Come,” he said.