Elizabeth Mansfield (22 page)

The note of hysteria in her sister's voice surprised Jane. "I know how great a disappointment this must be," she said, gently urging her sister to sit down on the bed. "Other than the bazaar, you haven't seen anything at all of the sights of London or—"

"Oh, who cares for the sights," Adela said impatiently. "That's not—"

"The shops, then. Or the visit to Geraldine's aunt in Mayfair." Jane sat down beside her sister and stroked her hair. "But perhaps an opportunity may arise for you to come to London again. Her ladyship has promised me a rise in salary. If we can manage to save a bit, perhaps in a year or two—"

"In a
year or two!
" With a bitter sob Adela thrust her sister's hand away. "By then it will be too late!"

"Too late?" The words were bewildering to Jane. "What will be too late?"

"He'll be betrothed—or wedded!" And Adela burst into tears.

"Who'll
be wedded?" her confused sister asked. "What are you talking about, Adela?"

"Mr. F-Fitzgerald! He's c-coming this afternoon to take me riding in his c-c-curricle!"

"Mr. Fitzgerald? Are you referring to his lordship's friend Taffy?"

"Yes, T-Taffy!"

Jane stiffened. "Good heavens, Adela, is all this rhodomontade merely over a ride in a curricle?"

"You don't
understand!"
Adela's shoulders shook with weeping. "I... we... he
l-likes
me."

Jane peered at her sister as if she'd taken leave of her senses. "Well, I suppose he does like you if he's offered to take you up for a drive. But what has that to say to anything?"

"Don't you see?" Adela drew in a trembling breath and, stanching the flow of tears with the back of her hand, attempted to explain. "He is the sweetest f-fellow, really—the very sweetest in the
world!
—b-but he's a bit shy with young 1-ladies. He's never t-taken a young lady riding b-before. He told me so. So, you see, the fact that he asked m-me must mean that he l-likes me a great deal —"

The full impact of her sister's purpose burst on Jane at last. The silly, impetuous girl was imagining herself in love! "Adela! What are you
thinking?
"
she demanded, unable to hide her disappoval. "You couldn't have met the man more than once. Do you imagine the fellow is going to ask for your
hand?
It's only an afternoon drive in a curricle, after all, not an invitation to meet his mother."

Adela let out a despairing wail and threw herself down on the bed. "What good would it be if it
were
an invitation to meet his mother? You probably wouldn't let me go to that, either!" And she buried her head in the pillow and wept piteously.

Jane, not unsympathetic to anyone so lovelorn, leaned over her and patted her shoulder. "Hush, dearest, please don't take on so. It's foolish to make such to-do over a gentleman you've met on only one occasion."

Adela turned and looked up at her sister with wet, tragic eyes. "Once was enough to make me l-love him!"

"I've never set much store by the claim that one can love at first sight," Jane said, but she didn't pursue the subject. She had a sudden recollection of her feelings at her first sight of Luke Hammond. If that hadn't been love at first sight, it was close enough. But it did no good to weep over it; Jane knew
that
very well. The best course for her sister, as it was for herself, would be to leave this place. "Try to be reasonable, dearest," she said as kindly as she could. "Write him a note explaining why you had to leave, and I'll have Joseph take it round to him."

"A
note?"
Adela threw her sister a look of loathing. "That is
cruel!
"
she cried, burying her face into her pillow again. "Cruel to him and cruel to me!"

Jane's body sagged. It
was
cruel, she supposed. She studied her sister as she lay sobbing into the pillows, feeling suddenly stricken with guilt. She'd given her sister no joy on this visit, a visit that the girl had anticipated with so much excitement. How could she refuse to permit her sister to have this one last bit of pleasure? On the other hand, if her sister really cared for Mr. Fitzgerald, wouldn't the pain of separation be even greater after the second meeting?

She had no answer. "Do you think, Adela, that if I postponed our departure until you returned from your curricle ride, anything would be gained?" she asked helplessly. "You would still have to part with him in the end."

Adela sat up, a gleam of hope springing up in her eyes. "I could at least avoid having to say goodbye in a note! I could see him once more. Oh, Jane, dearest,
may
I?"

Jane, surrendering her good sense to the lure of a smile from her sister's eyes, held out her arms. "Yes, dearest, I suppose you may."

She accepted Adela's fervent embrace, but she remained unsure that she'd done the girl a favor. At best, Adela's tears were only postponed.

Taffy noticed, as he helped Adela into the carriage, that her eyes were red-rimmed. He said nothing about it until they reached the park. Once there he gave his pair their head and turned his attention to the girl. "You seem a bit blue-deviled, Miss Douglas. Is something amiss?"

She shook her head. "We were using our first names by the time we said adieu the other day," she said shyly.

"Yes, we were. I'm glad you remembered that." He smiled at her. "We did become friends very quickly, did we not?"

"Yes, we did." She tried to hold back the tears that clogged her throat. "It's too b-bad it will end quickly, too."

"End?" He looked at her in alarm. "Why?" Her tears began to spill. "My s-sister says we must 1-leave today."

His face fell. "But she
can't!
We haven't even had time to—! Dash it, Adela, you said you were fixed in town for a few days at least!"

"I know." She dabbed at her eyes. "But Jane says that his lordship has no further need of her, so we can no longer remain. She says you must have me back by four."

"By four? That's two hours!"

Adela nodded sadly. "She says we must have a couple of hours of daylight travel to put some miles behind us before we stop for the night."

"This is
dreadful
news!" Taffy exclaimed. "I counted on having time to..." He cast her a look of longing. "How can we possibly come to an understanding in two hours?"

She blinked up at him, tears sparkling on her lashes. "An... understanding?"

"You know what I mean." He stared at his horses' heads for a moment. Then, in an abrupt movement, he turned and seized her hands. "Adela, I know this will sound absurd, for I've known you such a very short time. Of course, I never intended to tell you so soon, but the situation is desperate."

Adela couldn't breathe. "Tell me—?"

"I think I—" He hesitated, and then, just as abruptly, dropped her hands and turned away. "Damnation, girl," he muttered in despair, "it's too soon for such a declaration to be believed!"

"I'll believe you," she said softly.

That was encouragement enough. Gulping down the tightness in his throat, he turned and grasped her hands again. "It's true, you know, no matter how bubbleheaded I sound," he burst out, "but I've fallen top-over-tail in love with you."

"Oh, Taffy!" She gazed at him with eyes alight. "Me, too."

The horses ambled along the road untended, while the two passengers indulged in the rapturous expressions of mutual delight that newly awakened love requires. With her head nestled in his shoulder, and his arm tucked tightly about her waist, they were blissfully unaware of their surroundings or the passage of time. It was only when Adela suddenly noted that the sun was setting that the urgency of reality brought them down from the clouds. "Oh, heavens, it must be late!" she cried, sitting up in alarm. "Jane will be furious with me."

Taffy reluctandy picked up the reins. "I cannot bear to part with you," he said.

"Nor I." Adela sighed helplessly.

"I wish I were the sort to spirit you off to Gretna."

The idea of an elopement to Scotland was not displeasing to Adela. "Why aren't you the sort?" she asked.

"I wouldn't care to soil a lady's reputation."

"Oh," Adela said, disappointed. "Then, I suppose, there's nothing you can do but take me back to my sister and... and say g-goodbye."

They sat in silent misery as he guided the curricle out of the park. Poor Adela felt the tears rise up in her throat again. "My sister was right," she mutterred glumly, half to herself. "She warned me not to expect too much. 'It's only an afternoon's drive' she said, 'not an invitation to meet his mother.' "

"What did she mean by that?" Taffy asked.

"I think she meant that a ride in the park is not the same as an offer."

"No, I don't suppose it—" His eyes suddenly widened, and he jerked his horses to a halt. "Good God! Why not?"

Adela turned a questioning look on him, but before she could ask anything, he grasped her shoulders. "Why not come and meet my mother?" he asked excitedly, the words tumbling out of him. "She lives in Devon and would surely be delighted to have you visit for a fortnight. I'd stay, too, of course, so we wouldn't have to say goodbye at all."

She peered at him in wonderment. "Do you mean to go off to Devon now?"

"Right this moment!"

"Like an... an elopement?"

"Well, in a way. But much more respectable. By the end of the visit, you see, we would have had sufficient time to be well-enough acquainted to become quite properly betrothed."

She gaped at him, afraid to let herself believe that this delightful plan was actually a possibility. "But... I must get my things, must I not? And... tell my sister—?"

"Mama can supply whatever you need. As for your sister, let's not give her the opportunity to dissuade you. Once we get to Devon, you can send her a letter explaining everything. Please, Adela, say you will!"

"Oh, Taffy," the girl breathed ecstatically, throwing her arms about his neck, "yes, yes,
yes!"

TWENTY-EIGHT

While Adela was off on her outing with Mr. Fitzgerald, Jane remained in her room. She paced about the small space, trying to reorganize her plans for their departure to Cheshire. If she and Adela could have left early this morning, as she'd originally planned, the matter would have been simple: they would have stolen out before anyone knew, carried their baggage to the nearest coaching inn, and departed. Now that they would be leaving in the late afternoon, however, an unobserved departure was less likely. But an unobserved departure was still Jane's goal. She didn't want to have to explain to anyone—and especially not to his lordship—why she was leaving. The circumstance she wanted most desperately to avoid was coming face-to-face with him as they were tiptoeing out the door. If only she could learn what his schedule was for this afternoon, she could make her plans accordingly. Possibly she could extract that information from Mr. Parks, She went downstairs to look for the butler. She found him belowstairs in his little office, doing his weekly accounts. At her entrance he looked up at her with a blink of alarm. "I hope you haven't come to see me about a problem with my accounts, Miss Jane," he said, his chins quivering as he rose to his feet. "I've been right straight with them, I swear I have, and I'm keeping them just as you wished me to."

"No, I have no problem with the accounts at all," Jane assured him. "I'm very pleased with your books now. I came to ask you about his lordship. Do you expect him to be available at any time this afternoon?"

Mr. Parks shook his head. "I'm sorry, but he's gone away. I hope you don't need him for some important matter."

"No, it's... er... not urgent. Will he be gone all afternoon?"

"All day, I'm afraid. He's gone to see his old governess, Miss Simmons. She lives in Ramsgate, in a tidy little cottage his lordship provided for her. Every year on her birthday he spends the day with her. Very fond of her he is."

"Oh, I see." Jane was taken aback. She had a sudden recollection of the letter she'd found, the childish little note he'd written to "Simmy."
Blast you, Luke Hammond,
she thought,
why is it you always do something lovable right after doing something dreadful?

"Per'aps you can catch him tomorrow," the butler suggested with a touch of sympathy, "when he comes down to breakfast."

"Thank you, Mr. Parks, perhaps I can."

She returned to her room with her emotions churning. She could not explain, with her logical mind, how she could feel both love and revulsion for the same man. But what did it matter now? She was putting all this behind her. She should be feeling relief—relief that she would be able to depart secretly, just as she wished. His lordship would surely not return from Ramsgate before nightfall. By that time she and Adela would be well on their way to Cheshire. This confusing, disturbing, heartbreaking period of her life was coming to an end. It was almost four. In a little while she and Adela would be gone.

But four o'clock came and went without Adela's appearance. Jane's portmanteau and Adela's boxes stood packed and ready, Jane was wearing her bonnet and cloak, but there was no sign of Adela. As the hour progressed toward five, Jane's perturbation grew.
That girl is taking advantage of my kind gesture,
she said to herself in fury, tossing off her outer garments and throwing herself on her bed.
What can she be doing in all this time?

By the time the clock struck seven, her anger had turned to panic. Some dire accident must have befallen her sister, she was certain. She went downstairs and found Joseph. "Do you know the address of his lordship's friend, Mr. Taffy Fitzgerald?" she asked.

"Yes, Miss Jane," the footman said, eyeing her curiously. "On Harley Street."

"Would you go round to his house for me, please? It's most urgent. Ask if he's returned from his drive. If he has, request that he bring my sister back at once. I'll explain to Mr. Parks."

The footman nodded and went off. Jane, realizing that a departure that day was now impossible, had nothing left to do but wait. Though she had no appetite, she went to the morning room for dinner. It was a way to pass the time.