Lady Jane Page 7

  “Oh—Wellington—wait, wait! Sir, I must go after him—I—I thank you for tellin’ me about—Asia and—and all that.” She bobbed a quick curtsy, “Good day to you, m’lord,” she gasped and whisked out the door.

  Wellington gave Jane another brisk run before he scampered back to the front door, ready for a nap on the chaise with his mistress.

  Jane, even as she ran, was preoccupied with thoughts of Lord Payton. No longer was it possible to think of him as a child, for in spite of his small stature he was clearly a man, and not so very young a man at that. His emaciated face was lined like a man of—of forty! And those dark shadows like bruises beneath his eyes! What ever could the poor soul be suffering from to give him that look, to have kept the man in the body of a child?

  Well, she thought resolutely, no doubt I’ll learn if I’m meant to. Meantime I’d best face m’lady and make me confession before she learns the story from ’im. In her heart, however, she knew very well he would not go complaining to his mother of her maid’s intrusion into his private domain. How she knew this she could not have said.

  7

  Jane came awake very slowly, aware of and enjoying each degree of returning consciousness, especially the brief, final moment of hushed expectancy—then—yes, now! Her eyelids fluttered open just in the instant of the suns rim appearing over the distant hills, a moment of such happiness for her that her sleeping mind made sure she woke in time for it.

  She threw back the covers and ran barefooted to the window, blinking sleepily. The vault of the sky, a tender, almost pearly green, slowly warmed to coral. The gray, dew-soaked predawn countryside waited in hushed expectancy, then blushed as rosily as a young maiden at her first compliment. The birds, as at a signal, began their chirping, which built steadily into an ecstatic greeting to another fine day.

  Jane’s sleep-warm body shivered deliciously in the cool morning air as she leaned as far out the window as she could, fervently breathing in the scented freshness. Like food it is, this air, she thought Oh, Mam, if only you could have had some of this. She wondered, not for the first time since she’d been here, how her mother, brought up in the country, had been able to bear her life in London, with its smothering, fetid air and never a glimpse of a sunrise. I’ll never go back, she vowed, not if they’ll keep me. I’ll do anythin’—learn to cook and keep the house good, so when the old ones die, I can do everythin’ for m’lady, and she’ll never send me away. And I’ll listen carefully and learn to speak refined like and learn Quality ways so she won’t be ashamed of me. And I’ll make them old ’uns belowstairs like me, she decided fiercely, this very day. I won’t sit at supper with all them frozen faces another day.

  Her earlier vow to make them come to her was losing its sharp edge under the strain of having no one to talk to. Of course Lady Payton spoke to her and was invariably kind, but Jane was still far too shy to let her tongue have its usual, carefree way. As for Lord Payton, the nearest person to her in age at Larkwoods, her chances of seeing him again were very small—and the Lord knows he ain’t exactly a chatterbox, she thought with a grin. Of course, he’d plenty to say about globes and such, but he might as well be talkin’ to hissel’, for all I could make of them long words, though, of course, it was good fun to listen to, and most polite of ’im to presume I’d know what he was goin’ on about.

  For a moment, as she stood there in the morning sun, she wished she could have those moments to live through again, only this time she’d have her wits about her and really take in everything he said, and learn something. It was only since those few moments with Lord Payton that she’d become aware of the bottomless pit of her ignorance.

  How must it feel to know so much as he does, she wondered enviously? Would one’s head feel heavy carryin’ about so much? She pondered at the possible size of his brain, which led her to the inevitable conclusion that her own must be no bigger than a pea. I wonder if he knows how lucky he is to have been given all that learnin’, she mused.

  Then, with a shock, she remembered the man. Full grown, practically middle-aged, and no more than four feet tall, not to speak of bad health and a great deal of pain if those hollow, shadowed eyes were anythin’ to go by. Lucky was not how he’d feel, no fear, bless him. No, I don’t envy ’im, she thought, her hands automatically running down her strong, healthy body, but I don’t pity ’im either!

  He’s had all this to look at, and all them books and that, and never had to work till he dropped, and for all his size he’s a man and never had to be knocked about and forced to have a great, hairy body on top of ’im, doin’ dreadful—

  She felt a sob catch in her throat and her eyes filled suddenly with tears as the searing memory of Leach caught her before she could push it back, as she had so far been able to do. Oh God, don’t let me be carryin’ his seed inside of me!

  There it was. The nightmarish fear she’d been holding at bay, rising now in a silent shriek to heaven. She sank slowly to her knees and resting her head on the window ledge, let the tears have their way at last, unchecked, crying out her fear in great wrenching sobs.

  Below her Lord Payton was just passing on his usual early morning walk around the house. This was his only exercise, taken before the rest of the household was awake, and before any possibility of a chance encounter with unexpected callers. He paused at the sound of crying coming from somewhere above his head. He didn’t look up. There was no need to speculate on the source of the sound. It was a young girl crying, and there was only one young girl at Larkwoods. He walked softly away.

  When Jane brought Lady Payton her morning chocolate, all traces of her early tears were erased and her usual sunny smile greeted Lady Payton. Wellington, his feathery tail waving ecstatically, jumped down from the foot of the bed to put his cold nose against her ankle in greeting, causing Jane to giggle.

  What a blessing, thought Lady Payton, to be greeted by this cheerful, light-footed young creature first thing in the morning, rather than poor Mrs. Plummer, creaking painfully in with the tray trembling precariously in her rheumaticky clutch, her old creased face screwed up with the effort.

  In spite of her son’s distaste for having any new servants in the house, Lady Payton had been forced to search for a young maid who could take the stairs. They’d tried the village girls from nearby, but though willing enough, they were clumsy and forever breaking china and spilling things, and worst of all, making the evil eye sign every time they caught a glimpse of Sebastian as though he were a devil. Then Lady Payton had written to her sister in London who’d sent down several girls, whey-faced and shifty-eyed every one of them, who’d pilfered the silver and complained about being so far from any company or entertainment, and sneaked around trying to catch a look at Sebastian as though he were a freak. None had lasted more than a month before she’d had to pack them off back to London.

  Coombes, however, was a very different matter. Lady Stanier had written of the dreadful ordeal the poor child had been through, and Lady Payton could not prevent herself from eyeing the girl’s waistline every morning, even though she knew very well it was far too soon to show, even if the girl did turn out to be with child. Lady Payton prayed every night that this would not be so for the girls sake, though she had decided that if Coombes would stay she’d keep her, illegitimate baby and all. She thought fleetingly of holding the baby and then firmly pushed the thought away before it led to the depression that always washed over her when she was forced to acknowledge there would be no more babies at Larkwoods, no more for her, nor the possibility of fat little grandchildren to tumble about and be swooped up for kissing.

  She forced herself to turn a smiling face to Coombes—bah! she thought—Coombes! “I can’t bear to call such a pretty child such a hard ungiving name as that. I’ve decided to call you Jane from now on. Such a pretty name. Will you allow me?” she said gaily.

  “Oh—m’lady! I should be ever so glad. I don’t care for bein’ called Coombes, mesel’. So-so cold it sounds, all bare like that I’ve al
ways thought. How happy you are this mornin’, m’lady. It must be the beautiful mornin’ as makes us all so lighthearted.”

  “Are you lighthearted today, Jane?”

  “Today and every blessed day since I come here. Who could be unhappy in such a place as this?”

  “Some of us manage it, I fear,” said Lady Payton, her smile fading and her eyes clouding over.

  “Ah now, m’lady, don’t think on it this mornin’. Here, I’ve brought you a serprize. Mrs. Plummer give me a letter for you.”

  “A letter? Who—oh, it’s from Sebastian,” said Lady Payton, taking the note and eagerly breaking the seal.

  Jane’s eyes widened in surprise. He wrote his mother letters, and him only on the other side of, the ’ouse, she thought wonderingly. How could a person ever understand the ways of Quality? Then suddenly her nerve ends all jumped as it occurred to her what he might be writing to Lady Payton about. Oh lor, why didn’t I tell her about goin’ into his room yesterday?

  She had put off her confession, trying to gather nerve for the ordeal and trying to think of how best to explain the way of it. She had determined this morning that she’d make a clean breast of the whole thing today and not put the entire blame on Wellington as she’d had been inclined to do. Her hand went down to Wellington to pull his long, silky ears and scratch his soft head in apology.

  “Oh! My goodness,” exclaimed Lady Payton, her voice fluttering excitedly, “my son will dine with me tonight. He must be feeling very much better. Oh, Jane, he has had such a bad turn these past few weeks. I’ve been quite frightened.”

  “There now, and he’s all better and takin’ his dinner with you. We must look out your prettiest gown and see there’s no wrinkles in it.”

  “Yes, the mauve silk, I think, and you must do my hair very specially—he always notices things like that. And you must make sure your cap and apron are fresh and—oh dear—child, there is something I must—” she faltered, a stricken look in her eyes.

  “Oh, I’ll do that for sure, m’lady,” Jane interrupted hastily, well aware of Lady Payton’s sudden realization that she must prepare her new maid for the shock of her first look at Lord Payton. Jane was also clever enough to grasp this opportunity to make her confession under the very best conditions. Lady Payton would be so relieved that the worst part was past, she would not be so angry, or think Jane nosy and untrustworthy.

  Jane explained the circumstances of her meeting with Lord Payton and of his kindness in explaining to her about the globe and the telescope. “I could see he’d not been well—such dark shadows round his eyes, just like me mam when she was ailin’ so bad and couldn’t sleep proper at night. But now he’s well enough to come to dinner! I had wondered about that, though I know ’tis no business of mine to be concernin’ mesel’ about such things. I thought he must be away havin’ treatments and such. Course, I’d heard from Lady Stanier as he was sickly. I even—” she stopped abruptly as she realized her tongue had been clacking away for a considerable length of time and that Lady Payton was smiling at her in a bemused sort of way. “I—beg pardon, m’lady. You must think I’m a great gawk. Sometimes I forget me place,” she said, hanging her head in shame.

  “Not at all, my dear. It’s such a pleasure to hear someone talking without complaining for a change. All of us here seem to do such a lot of that. Mrs. McKirk because Sebastian and I eat so little of her good cooking, Mrs. Plummer because she can’t take the stairs anymore and about the new maids and—”

  “Me? Mrs. Plummer complains about me?” Jane broke in rudely, her temper rising.

  “Not you, Jane. But before you we had a number of unsatisfactory young women and the staff, eager to make it pleasant for them, went out of their way to be friendly. They found their efforts were wasted and have grown wary of repeating their mistake.”

  “They shall be singin’ my praises before long, m’lady,” said Jane impulsively with a grin.

  “They will?”

  “Oh yes, I’ve decided on it,” Jane replied firmly. “I can see they ’er good folks, really, even though they’re so cold and unfriendly like, and when they see I’m not like all those others they’ll treat me different.”

  “You truly think you will want to stay here, Jane?”

  “You’ll have to have me dragged away, kickin’ and screamin’, if you’ll be rid of me, m’lady,” Jane said simply. “Now, it’s time you were up and out into that good sunshine. Wellington wants his walk and it’ll do you good,” she ordered bossily, removing the chocolate cup from her mistress’s hand, and throwing back the covers.

  Lady Payton meekly swung her feet to the floor and rose.

  By the dinner hour they had both reached a fever pitch of excitement; Jane at the thought of serving dinner to this mysterious man who would undoubtedly be watching her every move with a coldly critical eye, and Lady Payton with the joyful anticipation of seeing this beloved son across the table from her, still alive!

  When Jane had finished dressing Lady Payton and seen her off down the stairs to the drawing room, she hurried up to her own room, where she’d laid out a freshly ironed cap and apron. She washed her face and hands carefully, then brushed out her long brown hair and coiled it into a smooth knot on top of her head before donning the cap which covered her hair completely. The stiffly starched ruffle framed her face like flower petals and was monstrously becoming, but for some reason she eyed it with dissatisfaction. She tweaked forward some shorter strands to feather softly around her face. Better, she thought, smiling impishly at her reflection. She tied her apron strings in front into a perky bow and twitched it around to the back, blew out her candle, and rushed down the’ back stairs to the kitchen.

  Sebastian watched covertly as the girl moved slowly around the table with a plate of soup for Lady Payton, her eyes riveted to the plate in her hands, the pink tip of her tongue showing her earnestness. She carefully placed the soup in front of her mistress and straightened up, flashing him an irrepressibly triumphant smile as she met his glance, before she caught herself and lowered her eyes demurely and turned away busily to the sideboard to fetch his serving.

  As she bent to place the soup before him he stared frankly at the round rosy cheek with the wisp of dark curl against it, and was aware of the fresh, sunshiny scent of her. It was all he could do to keep from reaching a finger to touch the smoothness of that cheek, and the impulse startled him. The only woman he’d ever touched had been his mother, and that was many, many years ago. He remembered the sound of this girl crying in the early dawn and wondered what could possibly cause such a merry-looking creature so much sorrow. When she went away to fetch the next remove he felt himself impatient for her return.

  “Well, Mama, you seem to have somewhat more promising material in this girl than has been your fortune heretofore,” he said as he applied himself to his soup.

  “Oh, Sebastian! A treasure! If only she will stay,” breathed Lady Payton warmly.

  “Already hinting of her young man left behind in London, I suppose,” he said sourly, instantly assuming that here was the source of her unhappiness of the morning.

  “No, no, I assure you, but—well, she suits me so well I’m afraid to trust it. She’s so pretty and quick and seems so—so grateful to be here. It’s very hard not to allow oneself to grow too fond of her too quickly.”

  “Surely one cannot dictate to oneself in such matters, Mama. The heart has its reason, as Pascal says.”

  “Does he, dear? How clever he must be to put it so aptly,” replied Lady Payton, quite ignorant of who Pascal might be.

  Sebastian smiled but didn’t bother to enlighten her. Jane reentered bearing a very large tray, and so there was no further chance to discuss her with his mother until the end of the meal. He contented himself with watching her as she served them, waiting for what he could not help praying would not happen. The memory of the last maid from London still caused him to flinch: pasty-faced, eyes like raisins as she’d avidly slid them around to him at every op
portunity. He’d finally flung down his napkin and fled the dining room with a muttered, angry apology to his distressed mother. The girl had been sent away the next day, but the memory of her sly eyes still caused his skin to crawl. He didn’t want to think about such a look from this girl.

  Jane was much too engrossed in doing her job to the best of her ability to have time for curious stares, even had she been inclined so. Such an inclination, however, was not part of her nature. Her innate trustingness in her fellow creatures caused her to approach all with directness and openness. Only once had her trust been abused, and though it now caused her to flinch away from men, she did not feel this instinct with Lord Payton. She was unaware that part of the reason for this was the very fact of his small stature, which gave her confidence in her ability to prevail if he should attempt anything. It was purely an unconscious knowledge; consciously she was only fearful of him as far as his reactions to her would govern whether she would be allowed to stay in this paradise or not.

  When she’d removed the last dishes and put the wine bottle in front of Lord Payton, she dropped a perky sort of curtsy, smiled blindingly upon both of them, and withdrew. Lady Payton, as was her custom when her son dined with her, stayed on at the table with him and took a glass of wine in order not to lose a precious moment of his company.

  “Your maid paid me a visit yesterday, Mama,” he said noncommittally.

  “She told me all about it, dear. I hope you were not upset I assure you she would not—”

  “Only surprised.”

  “I felt sure you could not mind. She’s such a taking little thing, is she not? No harm in her at all, and very pretty-behaved for a girl of that class. I wonder who her people were?”

  “Some lords by-blow, no doubt,” he replied cynically.

  “Sebastian!” she said reprovingly.