While talking with the two gentlemen Jonathan gained more insight into the Brody family. The easy, warm relationship between father and son was obvious.
As the conversation dwindled to its conclusion, they wished William luck with his interview and parted from him.
Jonathan said, “I’m headed in your direction Brody, for a promised visit to your daughter if she is available.”
“Excellent, excellent. I’ll walk you there as I’m due back to do some tutoring of the children after luncheon. Have lunch with us as well Dalton. I’m sure Jane would be able to accommodate another.”
“Thank you. As long as Miss Brody does not mind an extra person at a family meal at short notice.”
“Well, we’ll ask her, and she’s sure to give a direct answer.” He chuckled. They set off along the street towards the Brody residence.
After a few moments of silence Jonathan spoke. “Reverend Brody, I have some questions about your daughter.”
He saw the elderly gentleman glance at him speculatively. “Indeed? Ask away then.”
“Is Miss Brody likely to marry, do you think?”
“Well, I’m quite sure that I can’t say for certain. She is very busy with home management, tutoring her siblings and her charitable work, but that doesn’t mean she won’t marry.”
“She is a little beyond the usual age for marriage though, isn’t she?”
“Well, if her sister’s age is anything to judge by, then yes. In fact, her mother was good deal younger than Jane, but of age, when we married.”
Jonathan knew he must just plough on with questions if he was to find out her attitude to a relationship of any sort. “Do you know whether she has any current suitors then?”
Reverend Brody looked at him intently again, as though hoping to read the meaning of this questioning from Jonathan’s face, but the younger man kept it impassive, merely lifting an eyebrow as he waited for an answer.
The response came slowly. “Well Dalton, I’m unaware of any suitors of Jane’s - but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any. She has given a few young men the right about in the past but that’s long ago. You may be lucky. She might like the cut of your cloth, but a wise man would go carefully with her. She hasn’t had much encouragement to see marriage as an advancement of her state of being. Her mother died eight years ago leaving us – mainly her – to raise her youngest siblings. She may think she has done her share of raising children. Why marry and have more? Intelligent girl, my Jane – and a beauty – just like her mother.”
Reverend Brody smiled to himself and lapsed into a reverie leaving Jonathan to contemplate what had been said.
Within a few minutes they had reached the now familiar door in Harley Street and Reverend Brody let them in with his key. Upon entering he called to Jane. “I’ve brought another for luncheon Jane. I hope it won’t be an inconvenience.”
Jane emerged from the sitting room doorway. “Of course not father, always room for another.” Then stepping into the hallway she looked past her father to see Jonathan standing near the door. “Lord Dalton, you’re the luncheon guest?”
“Does it make a difference?” he asked.
Drawing breath she said, “Of course not.”
“Take our guest into the sitting room Jane while I change my coat for something more comfortable, if you would?” said her father.
Jane was left standing in the hall with Lord Dalton, still with his hat, gloves, walking stick and coat in his hand. She rushed forward to take them just as he turned to put the items on the hall table. He turned back to her to find her a step away with her arms outstretched. He smiled and took her apparently proffered hands. “This is the type of greeting I would like to receive upon all of my visits Miss Brody.” She saw he was smiling warmly at her and there was laughter in his eyes. Jane felt her heart flip over. She tugged her hands from his quickly and stepped back.
“I believe you were to call on me today with regard to finishing our conversation from last night. Do come into the sitting room. Anna is with me there and we can talk comfortably.”
When she led the way into the room Jane found that Anna was no longer there but must have left through the study door which stood ajar. “Oh dear,” she said. “We’re on our own.”
“Hopefully you can trust me to behave honourably Miss Brody?”
“Yes, of course, Lord Dalton. I’m sure I’m too old to be compromised by being in a room alone with you. Maybe you should be more concerned about your own vulnerability to a designing female?”
“I trust you implicitly Miss Brody, not to have designs on my name, my fortune or my reputation!” he said. The laughter lines were apparent around his eyes again. “Come, let us be seated and discuss whatever it is that you wish me to support. I will endeavour to be open-minded.” He offered her a ladder-backed chair from near the table then moved Anna’s embroidery from the well-worn brocade sofa to a side table before sitting himself on the sofa with the air of someone getting ready for a long chat.
Jane felt an unexpected nervousness as she sat with Lord Dalton in the cosy room. It defied all reason that she could feel this way in her own home. All reason except the attraction she felt towards this athletic, good looking and intelligent man. She told herself it was ridiculous to feel this way towards him when they were so unsuited by their rank, fate and philosophies.
Lord Dalton interrupted her thoughts. “So tell me more about your charitable works and how they fit in with your belief in the rights of women.”
On a safer topic now, her thoughts flowed easily into enthusiastic speech for the next five minutes until luncheon was announced by the housekeeper.
♥ ♥ ♥
The group that gathered in the dining room including a teenage girl and younger boy, introduced as Katherine and Christopher; Anna, the Reverend Brody, and William just arrived after his interview, as well as Jane and Lord Dalton.
With such a mixed audience Dalton expected the conversation over luncheon to be general, but he was surprised when almost immediately the younger members asked their father a series of questions about the Roman philosophers who they were obviously studying. Some of the answers, given in Latin, forced Jonathan to stretch his mind back to his university studies. Other points of view were given by Jane and Anna without any shock by their male family members. In fact, they supported some of the females’ more pithy comments. Jonathan was beginning to see how Jane’s strong personality and intellect had been fostered. He compared it with his sister’s education, more in accomplishments than true learning, and for the first time he felt guilty that Elizabeth had been denied such an education as these young adults and their siblings received in their home. He guessed already that Reverend Brody and his wife must have had a major role in their children’s tutoring, as school fees were probably beyond their means.
Following lunch Jane’s younger siblings went off to their lesson with their father while William departed for an appointment with his tailor. Left alone with Dalton, Jane appeared bereft of her family’s support as his intent gaze fixed itself on her.
“I believe we still have a conversation to finish Miss Brody.”
“I’m afraid it will have to wait my lord. I have to attend the home for women this afternoon and make some arrangements for interviews.”
“I shall leave you to your duties then Miss Brody.”
“… or, you could accompany me. Then we can talk before and after I show you the effects of women not possessing equal rights.”
Jane looked perplexed by her own suggestion.
“I shall be delighted to accompany you. If you can wait, I can bring my carriage to collect you within say, an hour?”
♥ ♥ ♥
Later, the carriage made its way slowly into stench-filled east London. A burly outdoor servant sat up on the box with Jonathan’s coachman as her
protection; Jane’s concession to the dangers of the locale.
Inside the carriage she was again aware of Lord Dalton’s close proximity seated opposite her. His long legs crowded hers. His attentive eyes watched her closely. The mingled scents of his freshly shaven face and crisply starched cravat besieged her senses. She squirmed on her seat attempting to subdue her tremors of attraction.
At last the carriage halted in a run-down street outside a plain two-storey red brick building. A sign over the front door proclaimed it as the ‘London Welfare League Home’.
“Do you think this a safe place for you to visit?” Dalton asked as he glanced up and down the grimy street where a few men shambled along with no apparent purpose.
Her answer was crisp. “It has been so far, and I have been working here for five years. We take precautions – my footman, Joe, is always with me.”
“Does Elizabeth ever accompany you here?”
“To date – no,” she said. “Dr Logan is often here and Mrs Courtice. Would you permit your sister to come here if she was accompanied as I am?”
He looked uncomfortable about the idea. “Probably not without me.”
Jane stifled her protest about his paternalism and wondered how his sister could live in such a straightjacket. She couldn’t.
Jane rang a bell by the door. “Are you always so protective of women Lord Dalton?” she asked.
Before he could answer the front door was opened by a young woman in a drab grey dress. They entered a small foyer and stopped to peel off their cloaks, gloves and hats, leaving them with Joe who seated himself beside the front door ready to act as temporary porter.
Following a long passageway, they passed a series of open doors. Inside each room, women were stitching various types of apparel, from hats to petticoats.
Jane continued her explanation as she led him along the corridor. “We don’t demand that these women be deserving poor. For whatever reason they are poor, they all need our help.”
They arrived at the closed door at the end of the corridor and Jane pushed open the heavy door, holding it ajar for Jonathan before he could step forward to assist her.
Jonathan’s mellow voice delivered his considered response. “In answer to your question Miss Brody, yes, I believe I am always so protective of women. That is the role I have been given in this life. I have many female relatives and as the senior male of the family it is my responsibility to care for them.” He looked very serious and sounded resigned to his fate.
Jane stopped abruptly in the middle of the office. In the distance was the murmur of many voices and the sounds of work but it seemed to her that they were in a cocoon of silence hearing only each other’s words. “What about women who are not your relatives? What do you do for them?”
“I believe I give them what I am able to – money to assist with causes such as this one.”
“What of middle-class women who wish to make their own way in the world without the assistance of men or because their menfolk are non-existent? The best way you can help them is to give them their rights and equality so they can support themselves.”
Jonathan took a step closer.
Jane looked up at him in surprise. He was crowding her again, forcing her to acknowledge him. Her heart stammered.
“What about you Miss Brody? How can I help you?”
Jane was struck dumb. What could he mean? After a pause she asked, “How do you think I would need your help Lord Dalton, except with our cause?”
“Do you never need a friend on a dark day, Miss Brody?”
She hesitated before answering, her brow wrinkled in confusion, her eyes on his. “Yes, I can always appreciate another friend.”
She continued to gaze into his eyes, captivated by the esteem she thought she saw there. When he held out his hand to her, she extended her small, ink-stained one. She glanced down. Poised in the air between them it trembled a little before Jonathan took it firmly in his. His grasp was strong and Jane felt warmth spread up her arm.
Jonathan nudged the door behind him closed with one of his glossy Hessian boots. “How else can I help you Miss Brody?” He moved one step closer. She shivered in anticipation. “As a friend when you are in need of comfort? Like this?” He kissed her forehead.
She closed her eyes as the softness of his lips brushed her skin. “Perhaps,” she breathed. I should make him stop.
“Or like this?” He trailed a slow line of kisses from her temple across her cheek to the corner of her mouth. A blush followed their path.
Don’t stop. “Yes.”
His warm hand released hers and slid around her waist until they were standing toe to toe, her face tilted up by the long fingers of his other hand. His fresh cologne reminded Jane of their waltzing last night.
His lips feathered across hers and she felt them tingle, sparking a warmth throughout her body. His arms wrapped around her, he drew her even closer and he kissed along her tilted neck, his sideburns tickling. Jane heard herself gasp and sigh.
Then he began a gentle, determined offensive on her lips. Her mouth opened in answer and his tongue flicked in. Jane unconsciously responded, kissing him back tentatively. He tasted … enticing. She felt the crisp starched linen of his cravat under one hand while the fingers of her other hand were entwined in his soft wavy hair.
“You excite me,” he said.
She felt Jonathan break away from her questing mouth, saw him glance around the room before he stooped to gather her in his arms. In a haze, Jane knew he strode to the desk and kicked out the chair from beneath it and sat down with her in his lap, before resuming his seduction of her lips. She felt his hand play across her neck and slip lower to briefly cup her breast before settling to caressing her waist and hip in slow hypnotic swirls. Time was suspended.
He murmured against her mouth as he kissed her.
Jane barely heard him and made no answer to something she didn’t understand.
“What do you say?” he said.
“Pardon?” was Jane’s muffled response as she moved to kiss his jaw.
He had stopped kissing her. “Marry me Jane.”
Jane opened her eyes to find his searching gaze on her as he awaited an answer. She held herself quite still as her befuddled brain tried to catch up with Jonathan’s words.
Slowly his meaning became clear to her. Jane felt a rush of surprise and happiness. She was breathless and blushing. He wanted to marry her!
How wonderful!
How awful!
Jane froze with surprise and fear. She heard her mother’s moans and her breathless voice – saw her pain-filled face as she laboured to birth her twelfth baby. She remembered the frail woman that her mother had become, who had wasted away leaving Jane to raise her beloved siblings.
She couldn’t marry him. And she didn’t love him - she couldn’t.
All this raced through her mind. She felt bewilderment and dismay.
She stared unseeingly at him. Finally she spoke. “No Lord Dalton. I can’t marry you. It’s absolutely against my principles.”
“Your principles Jane?” He looked thunderstruck.
She slid from his lap to stand before him, her mouth now compressed into a firm line though she trembled. “Yes! Marriage for me is impossible. You need heirs and I will never have children.” She paused. “I thank you for the offer, but I must decline.” Her chest ached with unshed tears.
He was outraged; she could tell. She was refusing an offer from a peer. She was refusing wealth and privilege and a comfortable life with a family - for her principles. Anger appeared to grow within him as she watched.
He said coldly, while offering his hand. “If you won’t marry me because of your principles then be my lover.”
She recoiled. “No! That would be worse than being your wife. I would hold even le
ss hope for esteem in society if I took that path. The outcome would be just the same – children to raise and no freedom, but with none of the benefits of status and wealth that would go with marriage.”
His anger seemed to simmer on. “You had the option to choose.”
“I don’t want either! I thank you for the honour of your marriage proposal and I thank you for consideration of me as a mistress; however, I must decline both!” She paused to catch her breath and tried to speak in her usual calm tone, her eyes not meeting his. “It would be better if we did not meet again in the near future.”
She crossed the office and opened the door indicating that he was to depart.
Numb, Jane watched Jonathan stand, bow stiffly and leave the room, the home and her life.
♥ ♥ ♥
Dazed, Jonathan exited the room. His anger drained away as he walked down the hall. He passed through the front door of the home with a preoccupied nod to Joe.
“Drive on!” he commanded as he entered the carriage.
He collapsed into the seat trying to make sense of the last few minutes. He felt the joy of having her in his arms again. He saw her heaving chest and flushed cheeks. He couldn’t be mistaken about her feelings. She had responded to him fully and passionately.
What had made her pull back into her usual reserve? What had he said?
Marry me.
Then came bewilderment.
Why would a marriage proposal, even an unplanned one, cause such a response? He knew a score of women who would have been silently whooping in triumph had he proposed to them.
But Jane wasn’t one of them. She wasn’t focused on catching the highest matrimonial prize possible. That was what intrigued him about her, he acknowledged with a grimace. But surely it could not just be explained by her championing of women’s rights. She was attracted to him. He knew it. He needed to get close enough to her to make her recognise that attraction. More than that; to make her act on it.
The Persuasion of Miss Jane Brody Page 5