“I left a summary in writing. There is nothing more I can do until they—” she gestured in the direction of Belton Park—“do something.”
“How can Lord Despair do anything if he remains in his room?” Maggie asked.
Jenny fixed her middle sister with a particularly hard stare. After all, the man was now their benefactor.
“Sorry,” Maggie muttered. “I mean, Lord Devere.”
“Now Lord Lindsey,” their mother corrected. “I am sure a strong man such as his lordship will improve with time. Maybe he needs some of Cook’s porridge to stick to his ribs.”
Jenny thought of him sobbing and fearful of the light rather than the dark. “I believe he needs more than a full stomach.”
“It’s a good idea, though,” Maggie said. “Not porridge, of course! However, I will take his lordship one of cook’s strawberry tarts to thank him for his kindness.”
“Apples,” Jenny said, gazing at the bowl of fruit in the center of the table. “The earl is fond of apple Charlotte.”
They all turned to look at her.
She felt her cheeks grow warm. “That’s what I heard Mr. Binkley tell one of the maids.”
“Cook can’t possibly whip that up in time for you to take with you today, but she can for tomorrow.”
Now why had she lied? Jenny had done nothing wrong by visiting the earl. Still, she didn’t want her mother and Ned to discuss the unseemliness of her being alone with Simon Devere, and therefore, she wasn’t about to tell them.
Glancing at Maggie to indicate she would greatly appreciate her sister’s silence on that matter, she tucked into the rest of her breakfast and ignored her mother’s words about taking anything to the manor that day.
“I cannot believe we shall be in London together after all,” Maisie said, grabbing Eleanor’s hand, causing her to drop her scone, which rolled toward the center of the table. Both girls giggled.
“If Lord Lindsey wasn’t an earl and thereby above reproach,” Ned said, “I would advise you to turn down his offer.” The entire breakfast gathering went silent though he spoke directly to Lady Blackwood.
By his smirk, he enjoyed grabbing all their attention.
“After all, it seems entirely too forward a thing for the earl to do, with absolutely no ties to the family.”
Anne set her teacup down.
“I would do exactly as you say, Cousin Ned,” she agreed, causing Maggie and Eleanor to gasp in dismay. “That is, if some member of our family wants to step in and pay for each of my girls to attend a Season.”
She stared pointedly at him until Ned looked down at his soft-boiled egg, a chagrinned expression on his face.
Crisis averted, Jenny dropped her fork onto her plate and excused herself from the table. All caught up with her other customers, she had no ledgers to look at. With the pressure off regarding Maggie’s Season and with enough earnings set aside to carry them through a few weeks, she need not ask Henry to solicit any more clients as yet.
What would she do with a day off? For one thing, she would stay away from Eleanor and Maisie so as not to get dragged into another game of Puss, Puss in the Corner.
As the weather was fine, Jenny set out on a leisurely stroll, ending up in the vicinity of Jonling Hall, which she had never entered, not even as a child. The earl had been startled at its loss; Jenny wished she could at least tell him good news that a pleasant family had moved in. Perhaps she would see the trappings of domesticity or encounter a gardener as she passed by.
“I say, do stop for a breath.” Turning at the sound of her cousin’s voice, Jenny’s heart fell. She preferred her own company. And if she had to have company, Ned’s name was near the bottom of those on her list of whom she wished to spend time. It was awkward and uncomfortable as he continued to drop hints about his feelings, which were decidedly unwelcome, though he didn’t seem to notice.
Why didn’t the man understand her utter disregard for him, as far as a romantic association was involved? Having to state it plainly, word for word, would humiliate him and cause hurt feelings. And she had no interest in hurting him. She had no interest in him at all. That was the problem.
“Is it safe for you to be roaming the countryside without an escort?”
“I assume it is,” she answered. “No one has bothered me except you.”
He laughed. “You are amusing.”
Was she? “Then I must try harder to be disagreeable.”
Now he frowned, apparently unsure whether she was joking.
His look of perplexity stung her. Feeling like a shrew, she added, “Thank you for worrying over my safety. You may walk with me.” If only he would not speak.
However, he started to talk as soon as he fell into step with her. “I wanted to explain why I didn’t take up the gauntlet that your mother threw down at breakfast.”
Jenny tried to recall the gauntlet to which he referred.
Ned shrugged. “If I was in a position to pay for your sisters’ Seasons, then I would most happily do so. If only to please you,” he added, looking sideways at her.
She tried to offer him a smile but feared it looked more like a sickly grimace.
Oblivious, he continued. “However, I cannot put myself in any type of financial peril simply because your father chose not to prepare properly for his daughters’ futures.”
Jenny was tired of thinking that same thing, and thus, she said nothing. Still, Ned should not speak ill of the dead. It was not his place, especially not to the dead man’s daughter. Perhaps if she didn’t respond, he would fade to silence.
No such fortune befell her.
“I suppose your mother could appeal to my parents, whom I believe are in a way to help out your sisters, but since the earl has already offered, and since that doesn’t drain any of my future inheritance of which you might have an interest, I believe it is for the best if things stay as they are—despite any hint of oddity that the earl would take it upon himself to bestow such upon your family. Without recompense. Without asking for anything in return.”
He paused, then glanced over at her even though she had not slowed her pace. “His lordship did not ask for anything in return, did he?”
Only half-listening, Jenny let Ned’s words echo in her brain, until his question suddenly made itself clear to her. She stopped in her tracks, annoyed at the intimation of impropriety.
Her cousin continued walking a few steps, then realized she was no longer beside him and turned back to her.
“The scoundrel!” he blurted out. “What is the price of his aid?”
“Ned, what on earth are you talking about? The earl has asked for nothing.” She would not let Simon’s reputation be sullied any more than her own.
“And whatever do you mean by my having an interest in your inheritance?”
“Ah, that caught your attention, did it, Miss Jenny?”
The smug look on his face actually caused a physical reaction in the pit of her stomach. It was not pleasant. How she wished she could take back her question.
“I believe I have been overly discreet in my regard for you. Perhaps too discreet if you do not yet know how I feel. Let me tell you this instant that I—”
“Look there,” Jenny said loudly, simply to stop him from making a declaration of love. For if he did, then she would have to tell him there could never be anything between them, and that as far as she was concerned, he could spend his inheritance on cards and women. That would not go over well.
For one thing, he would no longer be able to play the part of the fond cousin and remain in their home.
Most likely, with his pride intolerably pricked, he would return to their cottage, pack up his things, and leave, taking Maisie with him. That would cause Eleanor great distress.
Eleanor’s distress would become everyone’s.
“What is it, Jenny?” Ned looked around this way and that.
“The hall,” she said lamely, pointing at the Devere’s minor residence. Or rather, their former min
or residence. “Did you know it has been sold out of the earl’s holding, and no one knows to whom?”
His exasperated expression was replaced by one of interest.
“Really? I wonder why the earl had to sell it?”
She didn’t bother telling him it had been done while the current earl was out of the country. It gave Ned something to chew on, like a dog with a bone. With any luck, he would forget about his near declaration.
“For your sisters’ sakes,” Ned added, as Jenny started walking again, “let’s hope this is not an indication that the Devere family has fallen on hard times. Perhaps you should get that promise of patronage in writing, or better yet, have the earl transfer funds immediately to your London bank.”
How uncouth! As if she would do either.
“Come.” Suddenly, Ned grabbed her arm and turned toward Jonling Hall. “Let us knock and see if there is anyone at home. Even a servant can tell us who the new owner is.”
She dug her heels in, but he continued to tug her in the direction of the long drive.
“Really, Ned, that’s not how things are done. If you’re truly interested, I’m sure you’ve got connections in London who can tell you.”
“Perhaps,” he allowed, “but we’re here. Why not simply present ourselves as neighbors? Even more than that, you are the earl’s bookkeeper.”
The man had no sense. “You must never speak of that to anyone. Are you listening?”
He didn’t seem to be heeding her at all.
“Ned!” She yanked her arm free, and at last he turned to her.
“Listen to me. I have gone to great pains in this community to maintain the disguise of Mr. Cavendish. Only you, Mr. Binkley, and the earl know otherwise.”
He rolled his eyes as if dismissing her concerns.
“Please!” Oh, how she hated beseeching her cousin. “Only think how it might damage my family, not to mention hurt my sisters’ prospects. While they are grateful for what I provide, they would be humiliated if anyone should discover that I work at a profession. As well they should.” Then she added, “By familial association, that could damage Maisie’s chances as well.”
His eyebrows rose slightly. “Very well. But if there are occupants and they look at us askance, we can at least say that the earl is your family’s patron.”
Jenny let him drag her the rest of the way to the front door, a pretty arched arrangement with large potted plants on either side. Unlike the manor, there wasn’t a massive flight of stone steps to ascend, thus she assumed the working rooms were at the back of the house instead of in the cellar. Still, the house had an air of shabby aristocracy, conveying both comfort and gracefulness.
“To show up unannounced and uninvited,” she whispered. “We shouldn’t do this.”
“I am curious as to who lives here. I’m sure the Deveres would appreciate any information we discover.” Ned raised his hand and rapped upon the large door with his knuckles. “I wish I had my cane,” he muttered.
After a few moments, Jenny said, “No one is here. Isn’t that obvious?”
“We shall see.” He rapped again with more force.
Jenny had taken a few steps away from the door, retreating as she most desperately wanted to do, when it opened at last.
“What ya’ wan’?” came the voice from the shadowy interior. A woman’s voice with a strong Cockney accent.
“I say,” Ned spoke up, “is your master or mistress at home?”
“No,” the answer came quickly.
Ned was not to be got rid of so easily. “Perhaps a cup of tea for thirsty neighbors?”
Jenny rolled her eyes at her cousin’s bold request.
“’Ere now, if you’re a neighba’, ain’t ya’ go’ no tea at ’ome?”
Jenny almost laughed at these blunt words from behind the door.
“Why, of course, we have tea,” Ned said, spluttering with indignation. “That is not the point of neighborliness.”
“The ’all ain’t receivin’ no one. Strict orders.”
“I demand to know who your master is,” Ned said, giving over all pretense of simply passing by.
“Who’s askin’?” asked the servant.
Jenny tried to stop Ned from responding, running back toward him to grab his arm. She didn’t want her name associated with such ill-mannered prying.
Too late.
“I am Edward Darrow, and this is Miss Blackwood. The Earl of Lindsey is her benefactor. Show yourself, woman!”
Jenny felt her cheeks grow decidedly warm.
“The earl!” It sounded like the servant was muttering to someone else.
“Close it,” Jenny thought she heard, this time from a man.
“Strict orders,” the woman repeated and closed the door firmly, not even five inches from Ned’s nose. They both heard the latch slide into place and the bolt turn.
“Well! I never.” Ned’s face went quite ruddy with annoyance.
Jenny dropped her hold on her cousin’s arm, turned heel, and walked away.
Why? Why had he given her name? If asked in the future, she could pretend it was Eleanor who might not know any better than to try to barge into someone’s residence. How humiliating!
This was far worse than having her erstwhile viscount send word through a footman that he would not be officially announcing their engagement after all. Jenny remembered a momentary annoyance and even feeling sorry for the extra burden upon her mother, and then she had thought of Lord Alder no more.
This dreadful scene, though, played and replayed itself in her head as she marched home, aware of Ned striding behind her.
He called to her a few times, and she steadfastly ignored him. What a buffoon! Moreover, what if Lord Lindsey somehow heard that she was snooping about? And why was that even a concern? She did not know. She knew only that Ned had acted insufferably, and with all her heart, she wished to be away from him.
Not slowing her pace, Jenny slammed the garden gate after going through it. She would have done the same with the front door, right in Ned’s face and let him experience the effrontery twice in one day, except her mother was in the front hallway.
“Mr. Binkley was here while you were gone,” Anne told her without preamble.
“What did he want?” Jenny realized her tone was inappropriately sharp when her mother took a step back.
“You don’t sound well,” Anne said. “Did you get too much air?”
Sometimes her mother held the oddest ideas.
“No, I don’t think that’s possible, Mummy. One cannot get too much air. I think one can get too much sun, though that was hardly the case today as I had on my bonnet and I kept moving. Except when I was forced to stand still on a doorstep.” Against my will, she almost added.
“Really? Where did you go?”
Jenny turned to Ned. “Why don’t you fill my mother in since it was your idea?”
He had the grace to look a tad sheepish. “I caught up with Miss Jenny near Jonling Hall and thought it a good idea to inquire as to the new owner.”
A myriad of expressions crossed Anne’s face. No doubt she thought their expedition forward, if not downright rude, yet perhaps also interesting.
“Before you ask,” Jenny explained, “we did not learn the new owner’s identity. Only that he has poor taste in servants but exceptional taste in gatekeepers.”
Removing her hat and gloves, Jenny linked her arm through her mother’s and walked toward the dining room, hoping Ned would not follow.
“Pray tell, what did Mr. Binkley want? Before you tell me, though, did he leave payment?”
An excited gleam glinted in Anne’s eyes. “He did leave an envelope addressed to you, which he said was your compensation. I left it on your bed.”
Thank goodness! Her presence at Belton might have caused some consternation on the part of the butler and his master. However, she’d done them a good service. That, they couldn’t deny.
“The other matter, though,” her mother added, glancing behi
nd at Ned, who followed them like a determined hound. “Mr. Binkley said the earl has requested your company this afternoon, and he also said he very much wished to speak with you himself.”
“More ledgers?” Jenny asked.
Anne shook her head. “Mm, no, he didn’t say as such. He wants you to let the staff know when you’ve arrived so he can have a word with you.”
Ned made a disapproving noise, and Jenny rolled her eyes. If her cousin said one thing about impropriety, she might be forced to perpetrate violence upon him.
“Did Mr. Binkley specify a time?”
“Any time this afternoon,” her mother said, “and mind you, he was quite pleasant about asking.”
Ned cleared his throat. “Shall I escort you?”
How dare Ned even ask such a question!
“I think not,” she snapped, then saw the expression of disbelief upon her mother’s face.
Looking at Ned who seemed quite crestfallen, Jenny’s heart softened. She supposed he had not meant to cause a scene at the hall. Moreover, she could not fault the man for misplacing his affections.
“Thank you, Cousin, but that won’t be necessary. The earl is a private man. I’m sure if he had wanted me to bring someone else, he would have said as much.”
Ned nodded and moved past her to the parlor. Her family’s parlor! Yet she would turn her thoughts from all things irksome.
She’d been summoned to the manor. Asking or not, it seemed like a royal command. It wasn’t as if she could claim she was away. Would she go? Of course! Her feelings had been hurt by eavesdropping, but she wasn’t a child. Though it struck her as strange that Lord Lindsey would want her to return after what she’d overheard.
Moreover, why did the butler wish to speak with her?
A terrible dread filled her. Perhaps after the men’s discourse the night before, pondering whatever damage she could do to the earl by her presence—with the very distinct possibility of wagging tongues shredding her reputation—what if Lord Lindsey decided helping her sisters was too intimate a gesture, as Ned had suggested?
What if, as Maggie had feared at breakfast, the earl had changed his mind or the admiral had changed it for him, and it had fallen to Mr. Binkley to tell her?
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