Winning Lady Jane: A Christmas Regency Romance (Ladies of Bath Book 0)

by Isabella Thorne

  Jane forced a smile. She could not be rude. It did not matter that the most interesting gentleman she had ever laid eyes upon was already engaged and his bride-to-be was looking daggers at her. She let Lady Charlotte lead her into the house with Mrs. Poppy following chatting animatedly with the footmen and the ladies alike. There would be other gentlemen Jane promised herself, but it was an empty promise. She felt entirely hollow.

  4

  By the time Jane was shown to her room, she found that her trunk had been brought up and was already partially unpacked. She marveled at the efficiency of the household. Her chamber was nearly double the size of her bedroom at home and had an adjoining sitting room.

  The maid curtseyed to her as if she were a person of importance.

  “I am Jacqueline Toussand,” she said with a thick French accent. “Welcome, Mademoiselle. I thought the emerald dress, but if you should choose another for dinner…”

  “Oh, no,” Jane said. “The green one is fine.”

  “Tres bon,” the maid said as she laid the dress out on the bed. “It is lovely. The bodice…” She waved an excited hand and switched to French. “Accentuez votre cou et vos épaules.”

  Accentuate your neck and shoulders, Jane translated mentally. She could not have cared less about her neck or shoulders except that she wanted to lay them both upon a pillow. She felt bruised and tired from the journey. She was entirely rung out from the anxious carriage ride and the revelation of the earl and Lady Margret.

  Still, Jane was hungry after the long trip. The repast along the way had not sustained her, and she was glad that the earl had held dinner for them. She wanted more than a supper of bread, meats and cheeses and was happy to expect warm food.

  Jane allowed Jacqueline to assist her in dressing. She let her hands slide down the front of her dress as she meticulously straightened the gown. It was not as mussed as she expected it to be.

  “It seems being packed in a trunk has not wrinkled the gown unduly,” she commented, and Jacqueline shook her head.

  “Non, mademoiselle, I only had time to air out the one frock, but I can have another done for you in a moment if you have decided differently,” she said, and Jane opened her mouth in astonishment. The household was even more efficient than she had thought.

  “No,” she stammered. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

  “Vous êtes les bienvenus, mademoiselle. You are most welcome, mademoiselle,” Jacqueline said with a bright smile for Jane. “Dois-je épingler vos cheveux?” She asked, and Jane nodded accepting the offer to do her hair.

  Plaits were not the height of fashion and would not do for dinner, even a casual one. She wondered if those so esteemed as the earl and his family were ever truly casual.

  “Thank you,” Jane said to the maid who complemented her on her hair with a strange mixture of English and French. After a few moments, they both fell silent, Jane musing absently in her fatigue. “I am afraid I am not much company,” she said into the stillness.

  “Non, mademoiselle, you do not have to be company for me.”

  Jane was glad for the peace as she closed her eyes and allowed the French maid to brush her hair. The smooth strokes felt unaccountably relaxing. She did not know when someone besides herself had brushed her hair. This was quite the life, Jane thought. She attempted to remind herself that she should not come to expect such pampering, but found she could not muster protest. In fact, Jane was in danger of falling asleep before she even ate.

  She let out a long sigh as her thoughts once again turned to her path in life. Right now, all she had to do was get through dinner, and then she could fall into bed.

  “Magnifique,” Jacqueline announced, having finished her pinning.

  Jane looked this way and that, craning her head side to side to get a good look at her hair in the glass. It did look quite magnificent considering that just moments ago it was straggling from her braids. Jaqueline was skilled in her work.

  “Yes. Thank you, I do feel quite lovely,” Jane offered. She wondered for a moment if she should wait for Mrs. Poppy, but she was unsure where they had placed her, so she asked Jacqueline to show her to the dining room. “I am afraid I will get lost on the way,” she told the maid, and the young woman nodded.

  “The manor is quite large,” she said. “I shall be happy to show you.” But at that moment, Lady Charlotte knocked upon the door.

  “Are you ready for dinner?” she inquired. “Your traveling companion has decided to retire early. She asked for a tray to be sent up since she is leaving for London at dawn.”

  That was understandable. Jane, herself, was exhausted from bouncing about in the carriage. Mrs. Poppy was far older in years and would be fatigued from the journey, although the woman had always appeared quite spry.

  Jane thanked Jacqueline again and allowed Lady Charlotte to help her find her way to the dining room. The manor was a maze of turns and Jane thought she would become lost within the large edifice. She was glad to follow Lady Charlotte as she chatted amicably.

  Jane had promised herself that she would put the thought of Lord Keegain aside, but it was difficult with the earl and his intended bride seated right there at the table. Jane was here to visit with Lady Charlotte and her sisters. Jane promised herself she would have a good time. She had not seen Lady Charlotte since the summer, and they had much catching up to do. She would keep her attention on Charlotte.

  Introductions were made all around and Jane remembered Lady Helen and young Alice, both of whom she had met at a picnic in Bath. Jane was glad Lady Charlotte remade the introductions because although she had met Charlotte’s sisters, she could not remember which girl was which. Now, she concentrated on their names.

  Lady Alice had large honey brown eyes and lighter hair than her elder sisters. It was still styled in braids as befitting a younger girl. Her long arms and legs gave her a young coltish appearance, but it was clear that she would grow into a golden haired beauty. Lady Helen was the elder sister; a stately lady with wavy blonde hair, though it was not as curly as Lady Charlotte’s.

  Lord Keegain introduced his two gentlemen friends, Mr. Edgar Fitzwilliam and Mr. Theodore Reynolds, both of whom were visiting. As the gentlemen seated the ladies, the earl commented. “Mr. White was afraid that fowl would dry out waiting upon your arrival, so we decided on simpler fare. I hope you do not mind,” Lord Keegain said drawing her attention back to him.

  The table did not look simple to Jane, but she shook her head. “Oh no, I do not mind at all,” Jane replied with sincerity. “I am glad for warm food. I was expecting meats and cheese.”

  “I would not leave a lady hungry,” the earl said, and Jane blushed. He must know she was not a lady, only a miss, but she could not think enough to speak at all much less disavow him of the notion that she was of a higher class.

  Soon the meal was served, and Jane, who found herself quite hungry after the long ride, applied herself to her food while the sisters discussed their Christmas holiday plans. Jane found that the earl did not stand on ceremony.

  His sisters occupied one end of the table with their mother and Lord Keegain the other with his fiancée and friends. He sat proudly at the head of the table, with Lady Margret seated to his right, and then Mr. Reynolds. Jane was seated between Mr. Fitzwilliam and Lady Charlotte.

  Jane could barely keep her eyes from Lord Keegain and Lady Margret. Determined to ignore them, she spoke to Charlotte. After all, Charlotte was the lady she was here to visit.

  “Will your other sister, Lady Sophia be arriving soon?” Jane asked, and Lady Charlotte launched into a diatribe about why Sophia was too busy to come until the last minute.

  “She is a guest now, you see,” Lady Charlotte huffed.

  “Well, she is,” Lady Helen added as she paused in cutting her venison, which was prepared in a rich wine sauce. “She is married and has her own house.”

  “It will always be my house,” Lady Alice said.

  “Well, that would depend upon Randolph and his
bride-to-be, shan’t it?” Charlotte said with a glance down the table towards Lady Margret who was laughing prettily at something the gentlemen had said.

  Jane’s eyes went back to the couple. Lady Margret had her hand on the earl’s arm. Jane looked back at Charlotte resolved to ignore their joviality.

  “Have you heard from Lord Marley?” Jane asked Charlotte about her suitor from Bath. The gentleman had been quite persistent last summer. Too late, Jane remembered that Lady Charlotte had spurned the man.

  “No, and if I never do it will be too soon,” Charlotte said sitting her glass down with a clunk. “The cad.”

  “He married Miss Church just last month,” Lady Helen supplied. “Quite a rushed affair if rumor can be believed. Some say that is why he invited our sister to Bath in the first place.”

  “Helen, rumor cannot ever be believed,” the Dowager Keegain said, directing her daughter away from gossip. “Rumor is not truth.”

  “And that is truth,” Jane added softly thinking of the rumors that abounded about her own mother and how hurtful they were.

  “But Mama, the man left our sister heartbroken,” Lady Helen said with a solidarity that Jane admired although she was not sure it was so.

  “Were you really heartbroken?” Jane inquired of Lady Charlotte. “As I remember you had dismissed him before a week of summer had passed, and yet he still followed you determined to call upon you. Were you in love with him, Lady Charlotte?”

  “I suppose not,” Charlotte sighed. “But he was so attentive and quite handsome.”

  “Handsome is as handsome does,” the dowager said in a no nonsense tone. “You are well rid of him, my dear.” She reached out to pat Charlotte’s hand as if her daughter needed consoling.

  Jane knew that the romance was far gone now. “He was a philanderer with his eyes only on your money.”

  “And some other skirt,” Alice added.

  “Alice,” the dowager said sharply.

  “What? Ruddy says it.” Alice pouted.

  The sound of his youngest sister’s nickname for him must have drawn the earl’s attention to their end of the table. Jane realized that Lord Keegain was looking in their direction and his friends had stopped their conversation.

  “I shall have to have a sit down with your brother then,” the dowager said with a look to her son. She then turned to Jane and apologized. “Alice is barely out of the school room and has some rough edges to file off before her season. In fact, if she does not watch her manners, I shall think she is not ready for polite society, and we shall have to wait another year,” the dowager said with an edge to her voice.

  “Oh no, Mama,” Alice cried. “Please, have a care.”

  “Oh, I do not mind frank speech,” Jane soothed. “I appreciate her honesty. Lady Alice and my sister Julia must be of an age.”

  “Mother would have sent her to finishing school, but she cried to Randolph, and he let her stay home,” Lady Charlotte confessed.

  “I never went to finishing school either,” Jane admitted to Lady Alice.

  “That much is obvious,” Lady Margret spoke into her glass of wine and Jane realized the lady had been privy to their conversation all along. Jane blushed with embarrassment.

  “I am sure your manners are without reproach, Jane,” Lady Charlotte said defending her.

  Jane sent a grateful smile to her friend.

  The dowager put down her fork and spoke. “I suppose I was less inclined to send my younger girls,” the dowager said thoughtfully. “No matter that it would have been good for them. I wanted them close.”

  After the death of their father, Jane assumed, but she did not voice her thought, she simply sipped her own wine. With her lack of sleep the night before, the alcohol went straight to her head. She put down the glass and buttered a slice of bread.

  “I am sure you regret it, Miss Bellevue,” Lady Margret said coolly. “I consider finishing school a necessity for any lady of quality.” She said as if the matter were decided.

  Lady Alice looked quite pale.

  Jane considered her answer as she laid her knife aside on her bread plate. The comment made Jane think of her own manners. Were they in some way lacking that Lady Margret would comment upon them?

  The Lady Margret went right on talking without waiting for an answer. She smiled thinly at Alice. “We shall have to get your brother to reconsider. I made some wonderful friends at school, and I’m sure you will as well.” She said with finality as she leaned on Lord Keegain’s arm and beamed up at him. “Is that not right?”

  “We shall see,” The earl said noncommittally returning to his discussion with Mr. Fitzwilliam.

  The earl’s other friend Mr. Reynolds had a pained look on his face, and Jane wondered if he would jump to Lady Alice’s defense, but he only applied himself to his plate.

  “I already know how to play the piano and paint,” LadyAlice complained in a sulky voice.

  “That is not the entirety of finishing school,” Lady Margret said. “There is a question of manners and deportment.”

  “Your own manner is impeccable, Lady Margret,” Reynolds commented.

  “It shan’t be so bad,” Mr. Fitzwilliam consoled Alice proving that he too was a close friend of the family.

  “I shall not go,” Alice insisted, muttering under her breath. “Never have I slept the night in a bed not my own. I am sure I would not get a wink.”

  “You shall have need to sleep in another’s bed sooner or later,” Charlotte said in a low voice that only Jane and her sisters could hear.

  “Oh I do doubt it,” Lady Helen whispered back. “Who would have our wild little sister?”

  Charlotte restrained a most unladylike snigger.

  “It shall be later rather than sooner, I do suppose,” Lady Charlotte added.

  “I tell you I should not get a wink of sleep!” Alice insisted, her voice growing loud over her sister’s whispers. Her protest caused the two older girls to dissolve in mirth although Lady Helen tried to pass her laughter off as a cough.

  Jane had to smile, but decorum kept her from outright laughter.

  “Pray tell what are you two giggling about now?” the earl asked. “It will not do for you to be keeping secrets, Charlotte. The last secret you harbored nearly had you married to that clout, Marley.”

  “Oh, you would have never made me marry him, Brother.” Lady Charlotte insisted. “You are not so cruel.”

  “All the same, out with it.” The earl insisted.

  Lady Charlotte frowned unable to reveal the suggestive conversation, and Lady Helen came to her rescue with some alacrity.

  “Charlotte was only speculating on the type of gentleman whom Alice might catch,” Lady Helen said, her voice amazingly steady, her mirth hidden behind a stern mask of indifference.

  “You should be thinking of catching your own gentleman, Charlotte, after that ruckus with Lord Marley, the ton will have its eye on you,” The Dowager Keegain warned. “You must be above reproach.”

  “Yes Mother,” Lady Charlotte said dutifully. She picked up her fork and applied herself to her dinner.

  Jane could see from the worried look in the dowager’s eye that she was concerned about her daughter’s prospects, but that concern was tempered with love. It was a sentiment much like what her own father had given her on occasion, and yet there was a softer side of femininity to her scolding. Jane thought this must be what it was like to have a mother’s love. The thought gave her a warm feeling.

  “Never fear, little sister. You will find a true gentleman who will earn your love and respect,” Lord Keegain said kindly to Charlotte, who just wrinkled her nose.

  It was the perfect thing to say to ease the situation, and Jane’s estimation of the earl rose even further.

  “Yes,” Lady Helen agreed raising her glass. “Let us toast to all true gentlemen this holiday season.”

  Jane’s eyes fell for a moment on Lord Keegain. “And ladies,” Jane added softly. Her eyes accidentally met Lady Margret�
��s and she saw a spark of animosity smoldering there.

  “And ladies,” Lady Margret echoed, but Jane thought her understanding of the sentiment was much different than her own.

  5

  Randolph Keening, the Earl of Keegain stood at the entrance to the manor watching Lady Margret direct his servants. She had brought half of her household with her and now was taking them home again. No matter that she would be back in a fortnight for the Christmas ball. To Keegain all this packing and unpacking seemed like a monumental waste of time and manpower since Margret would be bringing her own household staff permanently when they married.

  The thought did not bring him pleasure. He sighed and shook off the unwelcome feeling. It would be good for Margret to have the company of her own lady’s maids and companions; it would help to ease the transition. Still, he watched the bustle in the courtyard and did not feel easy.

  He did not know what he expected. His marriage would be like many amongst the Ton. Lady Margret and himself were of the same social background, their families had known each other all their lives, and they were both hale and hearty. They were a good match.

  Lady Margret was a beautiful woman. She would be an impeccable hostess for his balls and a stunning addition on his arm. She would maintain his household and bear his heirs. She was perfect, but he feared that she would upend his life. He was not a man for complication or conflict and Lady Margret thrived on such encounters.

  Lord Keegain tried to convince himself that opposites attract. If so, then they should be the perfect match. His position would give her security. She would have children to fill her life with purpose, and what would he have?

  He was certain there should be something more. Lady Margret was beautiful, poised and of good family. She was all he could want, but she did not heat his blood. She did not inspire him to passion. Still, he could not over throw Lady Margret for something so sentimental as a lack of sentiment.