The Last of Lady Lansdown (25 page)

“Splendid!”

The Blue Bull Inn overlooked the banks of the River Clearsy, one of the rivers connected to the canal. Soon Rennie and Millicent were strolling along its shallow banks on a pathway lined with languid eucalyptus trees and dense river ferns. Along the way, they noted a variety of birds—cranes and the occasional heron hunting for fish among the reeds. “This is indeed a beautiful walk, Lord Rennie. I am so glad you brought me here.”

Ever since they’d left the inn, Rennie’s mind had churned with a variety of emotions. At long last he was alone with Millicent! He knew she didn’t really like him, not
that
way, and yet ... should he seize this opportunity and ask for her hand? She would likely say no, thus sending him into the dark pit of rejection. But what if she said yes? Perhaps she could see he loved her so much that, given time, some of his love was bound to rub off and she would love him in return. Besides, he’d been told he was an excellent catch. Maybe he was, considering he could offer her great wealth, a title, and a huge estate. And of course he would not require a dowry.

Besides all that, she was the only woman in the world he loved or could ever love ...

By God, it was worth a try.

They stopped to watch a flock of herons rise slowly to the sky. He took her elbow and turned her toward him. His heart pounding, he began, “I have something to say to you, Miss Hart.”

She fluttered her long eyelashes at him. “Really, Lord Rennie?”

He took the plunge, a feeling that must be similar to diving off one of those high cliffs at Dover. How to say it? Words spun madly in his brain. “I have a certain fondness for you, Miss Hart.” No! That was not what he meant to say. “What I mean is, I am madly in love with you and I want you to marry me. That is, I am asking for your hand in marriage. That is—”

“Why, Lord Rennie, I had no idea!” With a merry laugh she placed her tiny hand on his arm, as if to prevent him from further embarrassing himself. “You must know how very fond I am of you, but marriage?” His heart began to sink, “While I am deeply honored by your proposal, I fear I cannot accept, although you know how much I value your friendship.”

Oh, no! She was giving him the standard let-him-down-easy speech, the one every well-brought-up young lady memorized, to be used for occasions like this when some poor sod had to be rejected.

“You are such a dear man. So very amusing, and so very kind ... why, sometimes I think of you as a big, friendly puppy dog without a mean bone in your body.”

A big friendly puppy dog
? Rennie shriveled inside. He felt an urge to throw himself into the River Clearsy and sink to the bottom, never be seen again. Of course, he would do no such thing. He must not let her know her words had cut him deeply. Kind soul that she was, she would be greatly distressed if she knew, and he could not have that. “Say no more, Miss Hart, I quite understand. Rest assured I shall not bring up the subject again.” Rennie fixed a smile on his face and offered his arm. “Shall we stroll back? I fancy we should be leaving for home before long.”

* * * *

On the ride back from the canal, Jane’s spirits seesawed between high and low. One minute she was positive Douglas could do nothing to prevent Percy from destroying her life and she was doomed. The next, she would remember Douglas’ utter confidence when he told her, “You are not to concern yourself further, do you understand?”

She believed him, and yet, how could she not concern herself? Percy’s threats hung like the blade of a guillotine over her head, and by the time Rennie’s coach rumbled up the driveway to Chatfield Court, she felt empty and drained. There was no way out; she was sure of it.

“Oh, look!” Millicent was looking out the coach window. “Isn’t that Percy’s carriage under the portico? It looks as if he’s going somewhere.”

Jane looked out and saw a footman strapping a piece of luggage to the back of Percy Elton’s high flyer phaeton. Percy sat in the driver’s seat, reins and whip in hand. “Hurry up!” she heard him yell. Obviously he was anxious to depart.

Lord Rennie’s coach pulled up behind the phaeton. As it did so, Rennie, always friendly and gracious, poked his head out the window. “Ho, there, Elton! Going somewhere?”

Percy turned in his seat and glared back. Jane saw he was hatless, cravat askew, his upper lip appearing twice its normal size. What on earth had happened? Her usually impeccably dressed nephew looked as if he had been in some sort of a fight. A wild look gleamed in his eyes. “No time to talk!” He turned back, raised his whip in a near-frantic gesture and lashed it above the backs of his two horses. The carriage started off so quickly that the footman strapping the luggage was compelled to leap back, barely escaping the rear wheel.

“How strange,” Rennie remarked as he helped his two passengers from the coach. “The man seems in a bit of a pet.”

Once inside, Jane was greeted by Griggs, who handed her a note sealed with a splotch of red wax embedded with an “E.” The straight-faced butler explained, “From Mister Elton, madam. It appears he was in too much of a hurry to deliver it himself.”

Jane was hard-put to keep from snatching the note out of Griggs’ hand and rushing to her bedchamber to read it in private. As it was, she wasted no time in getting to her room, closing the door, and ripping open the note.

Countess,

The matter we discussed has been settled and will never be brought up again. My apologies for any inconvenience you may have suffered.

—Elton

Douglas did it! Never had she felt so relieved, so blissfully happy. How did he manage? She must find out.

The servants knew everything. She would talk to Meg.

She found her chambermaid on her knees in the drawing room, scooping ashes from the fireplace. After a greeting, she asked, “Meg, do you happen to know if anyone came visiting today?”

“Indeed I do, ma’am.” Meg sat back on her haunches, the trace of a grin on her face. “Mister Cartland came calling on Mister Elton. They had a conversation right here in the drawing room. It was,” Meg bit her lip, as if searching for the right word, “most interesting. I didn’t hear it myself, but afterwards the sound of a scuffle was heard. Others—I shall not say who—were listening at the door.”

“A scuffle?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am. They were quite loud, and there was a bit of banging about and the like. Apparently, Mister Elton got the worst of it. It’s said when he left the drawing room, he was pale and shaking and had a big swollen lip. But that’s not all.”

“There’s more?”

“The person at the door just happened to have overheard some of the conversation,” Meg went on. “It was quite ... quite ...” she put her hand over her mouth to smother a giggle.

“Quite
what
, Meg?” Jane was dying to hear.

“I hardly dare say.”

“You can tell me anything and I shall not be shocked.”

“Well, then,” Meg calmed herself, took a gulp of air and carried on, “it seems Mister Cartland was telling Mister Elton what he was going to do if Mister Elton didn’t stop doing whatever it was he was doing. We don’t know what that was, madam, but it must have been something really bad.”

That is not the half of it
. “Do go on. What did Mister Cartland say he was going to do?”

“Well, the person who was listening didn’t catch all of it, but among other things, it seems Mister Cartland was going to cut off certain ... I guess you could say, masculine parts of Mister Elton’s anatomy. He said he was going to,” Meg started giggling again, “it was something about stuffing the parts he cut off into Mister Elton’s mouth.”

Jane tried to keep a straight face. “How very boorish, so terribly unrefined.” She burst into laughter and couldn’t stop. Meg joined her. They laughed until tears streamed down their cheeks and they had to stop to wipe them away.

“Thank you, Meg,” Jane finally said. “I appreciate our telling me this, more than you will ever know.”

Her heart full of gratitude, she hurried to her room, sat at her writing desk and penned a quick note to Douglas.

My Dear Mister Cartland,

My heartfelt thanks for your handling of the matter we recently discussed. All is well now, thanks to you. I shall look forward to seeing you upon your return from the Berkferd Canal.

With utmost kind regards,

—
Jane Lansdown

She folded the note, sealed it with a glob of blue sealing wax, and impressed it with her elaborate “L.” Lovingly, she pressed it to her heart. If sent by Royal Mail Coach, it would be in Douglas’ hands by tomorrow.

Her next stop was Granny’s bedchamber, where she relayed the happy news. “I am ecstatic, Granny. Douglas did it! I absolutely adore the man.”

“That is all very well and good,” came Granny’s sharp reply, “but don’t forget, your troubles aren’t over yet.”

“I have not come ’round yet, if that’s what you mean.”

“How many days now?”

Jane sighed deeply. “It’s getting on toward a month.”

“Hmm ... that is very, very late, even for one who is so absolutely positive she is not with child.”

“I still do not believe it.”

“Isn’t it time to face reality?”

Jane’s high spirits slowly plummeted. “I was feeling so happy about Douglas Cartland, knowing I’ve fallen in love with him. I even dared to think he might feel the same and we could have a future together. But now? Why is it that every time I think my troubles are over, I’m forced to realize they are not?”

“That’s the way life is, I’m afraid.” Granny nodded wisely. “I told you once before, whether or not you’re carrying a child is in God’s hands.”

“Well, I wish God would take pity for once and make me come ’round.”

That night, Jane went to bed with a sad heart. If she was expecting, and it looked like she was, Douglas would have no part in her life. She would be the Dowager Countess, mother of the new earl, and expected to act accordingly.

No more Douglas.

No more happiness.

Her life stretched before her like a dark abyss.

Chapter 15

When she awoke the next morning, she gradually became aware of something unusual. Slowly she realized her lower abdomen felt heavy, the way it always did before her monthly. Her breasts were sore. Could it be? With bated breath, she slid from her bed. With careful fingers, she explored, and when she brought them up ...

Dear God in heaven, I have my monthly.

She hastened to the washstand. While she washed, the impact of her discovery hit her full force. She would not be presenting the world with the next Earl of Lansdown after all! Beatrice would be thrilled. Mama would be crushed. As for herself, a vast relief flooded through her. She felt like pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t in the midst of a wonderful dream.
Douglas
. Could she have him now? Why not? What could possibly stand in the way?

Soon after, her sister and grandmother came to take her down for breakfast. Jane drew them both into her room. “Wait ’til you hear, I’ve come ’round! I am
not
carrying the next Earl of Lansdown!” She did a little jig in her billowing white nightgown.

Granny beamed. “What good news! I wonder what brought it on.”

Jane hadn’t even thought. Whatever brought it on, she was joyous. “We will never know what brought it on, and I really don’t care.” She looked at her sister. “What do you think, Millicent? I hope you’re happy for me, too.”

Millicent managed a reluctant smile. “That’s wonderful news. I knew you didn’t want the earl’s child, but, of course,” her face fell, “Mama will be devastated.”

“I know.”

Granny shrugged. “She will get over it.”

“Poor Mama has exhausted herself with worry lately,” Millicent said. “Among other things, she was upset when we went to the canal without telling her where we were going.”

“I should have told her,” Jane said, “but you know she would not have approved.”

“Of course, I understand,” Millicent continued. “It’s just ... well, it’s a shame after all she’s been through, and now this. She was so hoping we could all continue to live at Chatfield Court. It’s going to be so galling, knowing Beatrice will get everything she wants and we will be living like paupers in that tiny house.”

“It’s not so tiny, and we shall not be paupers,” Granny scoffed.

Millicent shook her head in dismay. “You know what I mean. Jane, I don’t envy you having to tell her.”

“Neither do I, but it must be done.”

Later that morning, Jane joined her mother in the dining room. Amelia Hart, dressed in black with a simple white lace cap perched atop her gray head, sat at the table sipping her morning cup of tea. “I have something to tell you,” Jane said.

“Is it something good or something bad?”

“It depends on how you look at it. I have my monthly.”

“Oh, no!” The color drained from Mama’s face. Blindly, she set her cup down, nearly missing the saucer. “Are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

“I am astounded. I was so certain ... what could have brought it on?”

“Who’s to say? What matters is, I am definitely not with child, so I think the sooner we move to the dower house, the better.”

“Beatrice did it,” Mama snapped.

“I really don’t think so. Why would you say that?”

“Because she’s the one who caused the stables to burn.”

How irrational. Jane spoke in her most calming voice. “The stables burned days ago. Although I understand your concern, I really don’t think Beatrice had anything to do with my coming ’round.”

Mama opened her mouth to reply but, though her mouth worked, she could not get the words out. Instead, she covered her face, bent her head to the table, and broke into wracking sobs.

Her heart wrenching in sympathy, Jane reached across the table and took her mother’s hand. “Please stop. I cannot bear to see you cry.” She gripped Mama’s hand until finally the sobbing ceased and she raised her head.