Lily and the Lion (14 page)

Janet's gaze met Lily's, then self-consciously slid away. "I don't know what ye mean, miss."

"I think you do. And it's perfectly understandable that you might be a little jealous of her. She's quite pretty."

"So you think she's pretty, too," Janet muttered dejectedly.

"But no more so than you," Lily returned.

Janet stopped her peg-leg mid-swing and held it elevated for Lily's inspection. She flicked her hand in a disparaging gesture. "But
this
ain't too fetchin'. And not even you, miss, kin make me believe it is."

"Your wooden leg won't matter a fig to a worthy man, Janet," Lily said gently. "While we are attracted to people physically, or repulsed, like Belle was by poor Mr. Grampton, there's certainly more to falling in love than a person's physical appearance. I daresay Belle might have liked Mr. Grampton if she'd had the opportunity to get to know him, and if he'd been a good, kind man, which, I'm afraid, seems doubtful in this case! But it's what qualities lie inside a person which truly make you like or dislike him or her. You've so much that's good in you, Janet!"

Janet lowered her leg to the floor, her face brightening a little. "Pleshy don't seem t'mind m'leg. We talk and laugh and I never catch 'im starin' at it, like some folk do. He even asked me to tell 'im how it happened, and ye know I'd much rather a person was straightforward in askin' me about it than to shy away like it was too shameful t'speak of!"

Lily was surprised and impressed by Pleshy's tactful handling of the subject. "That was well done of Pleshy. And I'm sure he likes you, my dear. Your good humour makes you decidedly easy to be around, you know."

Janet glowed. But now was the difficult part. Lily must put Janet on her guard without setting up her hackles and pushing the girl to do the exact opposite of what she ought to do to protect herself. Lily took Janet's hand and held it affectionately. "But I don't suppose you have heard that Pleshy is reputed to be rather, er, addicted to liking a great many women. Lord Ashton tells me that Pleshy is a flirt and not likely to settle on just one woman, no matter how much he admires her."

Janet opened her mouth to speak, but Lily rushed on, "You mustn't think I blame you! I daresay Pleshy has very engaging manners, but it would be remiss of me if I did not put a little flea in your ear. I don't wish you to break your heart, Janet!"

Janet's blue eyes widened. "Oh, miss, I'm not so stupid as that! I know Pleshy's a flirt. He told me himself, and even said that Lord Ashton threatened 'im with losin' 'is job if he so much as clapped a finger on me!"

"He did?"

"Yes, miss. But Pleshy told me that his lordship said it in a friendly way, 'cause he knew Pleshy'd do what he was bid t'do without havin' t'threaten 'im with dismissal. He's been 'is lordship's valet fer five years, miss, and they's as close t'bein' friends as any servant and 'is master."

"Well, I'm glad that Lord Ashton has such estimable influence over his servants. And I'm equally glad that you're going to be sensible about Pleshy."

Janet's nose wrinkled. "I never said as how I'd be
sensible,
miss! I can't help it! I like him considerable. He's kind, and he tells such good stories, all about his French mum and his Scots dad and all 'is brothers and sisters. And he's so handsome, miss, sometimes I kin hardly breathe from lookin' at 'im!"

Lily could well imagine how avidly Janet would listen to amusing and heart-warming stories about a large family, since she had been orphaned and had endured such a deplorable childhood before coming to the vicarage. Pleshy certainly knew what would entertain the girl, and he seemed to be taking pains to do so. But Janet's blunt confession that she could not guarantee to be sensible was worrisome to Lily. She hoped she could depend entirely upon Lord Ashton's confidence in his manservant to clap not even a finger on Janet. The girl's besotted condition made her very vulnerable.

"Janet, you were raised in a foundling home. You know what it's like to be without parents. Even denied one parent, a child is at a disadvantage—"

Janet looked horrified. "Oh, miss! Ye mustn't think I meant that I wouldn't be sensible about
that!
I'm not about to share my warmin' pan with Pleshy! What I meant was, I can't help it if'n I fall in love with 'im! But—Lor', miss!—I would never do
that!"

Lily breathed a sigh of relief, and now felt a bit embarrassed about leaping to conclusions. "I'm glad to hear that, my dear. I didn't think you would. I was just afraid... Put in tempting circumstances, you know–"

Janet cut her off, saying with a laugh, "Don't worry, miss. I didn't take it amiss, what ye said. I understand ye're jest lookin' out fer me, as ye always do and have done since yer pa took me away from that wretched home!" Seriously, she added, "I'd never do anythin' that would make ye ashamed of me. Yer pa taught me better'n that!"

"It relieves me to hear you speak so," Lily said warmly. "But, while you've quite put me at ease about your virtue, I'm still worried about your heart, my dear!"

Janet sighed and looked a little woeful. "So am I, miss. But there's nothin' I kin do about it. I jest want t'enjoy what's left of my time with Pleshy. If'n my heart's broke when we go back t'th' vicarage, I expect I'll learn to get by."

"It's all my doing, you know!" Lily said, standing up abruptly and pacing the floor in front of the fireplace. "I probably should have brought Cathy along as chaperon, not you! But I thought you might enjoy. .. However, I should have known! You're just a child yourself, and I—"

"Lord, miss, it's half past six!" exclaimed Janet, breaking into Lily's self-condemnatory monologue. "Lord Ashton said ye was to join 'im in the parlour at seven and ye're not even dressed yet. Come, let's get you started, missJ"

Though she was not done with feeling absolutely riddled with remorse from having put Janet in the way of having her heart broken, Lily allowed the girl to coax her into the chair in front of a small dressing-table which, due to an uneven leg, leaned a little to one side. She stared into the slightly warped mirror and was alarmed to see how disheveled she looked. She might be wretched and penitent, but she would not sit at table with the impeccable Lord Ashton in such a state of disarray.

"Brush my hair till my scalp tingles, Janet. I feel like a hag!"

"I will. I'll brush it till the copper shines out'it, miss!"

This reminder of the copper, or russet, highlights in her hair also reminded Lily of something else.' 'You're to join me in the parlour, Janet. I know you're probably tired, and I'm very sorry to keep you from your bed. But Lord Ashton insisted that you play chaperon tonight."

"I know, miss. He told me hisself," Janet informed her while she plied her brush with energy. "I've not been the chaperon I should be, miss, but tonight I'll sit in the parlour with ye as long as needs be, and with my eyes never strayin' from looking at the two of ye!"

The amusing picture this well-intended threat conjured up made Lily smile. "I feel much safer now."

Janet must have caught the lack of seriousness in Lily's tone and fixed her mistress with a sapient eye. "Don't think he don't like ye, miss, or that ye don't need a chaperon, 'cause 'less I'm losin' my sense, his lordship likes ye considerable."

lily watched in the mirror as her smile slid from her face. She didn't trust herself to reply to Janet's pronouncement. And she didn't at all like the pleasurable sensation that fluttered like butterflies through her at Janet's expressed opinion that Lord Ashton "liked her considerable." It would not be sensible at all to be flattered by such a nobleman's fleeting admiration, if, indeed, there truly was admiration there. In a few days, this entire journey and all its diverse travellers would be consigned permanently to the past. Lily must follow her own advice to Janet and be "sensible." After all, she had no desire to imitate her abigail's headlong—albeit unwilling—rush towards a broken heart.

* * *

"
M
Y LORD,
I
DO HOPE
you mean to take the
animal
downstairs with you. If you do not, I'm sure its yowling will eventually awaken the captain."

Perceiving a slight suggestion of dullness in the mirror-like surface of his freshly polished boots, Julian rubbed the toe of his Hessian against the back of his leg. "I will, Pleshy," he said as another of Sebastian's irritated
meows
from the hallway penetrated the thick door of the chamber. "It seems I have no choice. Besides waking Peter, he would very likely annoy the other patrons of the inn as well. I hope he does not object to accompanying me to the parlour. I do not fancy my new jacket marred by claw marks."

Pleshy's lips twitched and he brushed the shoulder of Julian's Bishop's bluejacket with an open palm, his sharp eyes scouring the superfine for even the tiniest piece of lint. "Per'aps if you feed 'im, my lord, he'll go willingly enough. But I know he won't shut 'is trap all night unless he's allowed to sleep with the captain. He grew attached to 'im uncommon fast."

"That he did," agreed Julian. "But Peter had been attracting cats at the vicarage, too. I would not cater to this particular feline's demands, however, except that I have the lowering suspicion that he has a beneficial effect on Peter. Helps him relax, it seems."

"At least the drat creature has one redeemable quality," said Pleshy. "I only wish't he weren't so full of fur!"

Lord Ashton picked a long yellow hair from his lapel and murmured, "Don't we all. How
did
you miss this one, Pleshy? I don't expect that dinner will be of a long duration tonight. And as soon as we've dined, I'll bring Miss Clarke up to check on Peter." Julian looked worriedly at Peter's flushed face as he turned restlessly on his pillow. "He's not quite the thing tonight, is he? What's your opinion, Pleshy?"

"I think Miss Clarke's got the right of it in thinking that the captain's just done up, so t'speak. I only hope his fever don't climb too high."

"If necessary, we can stay on at the inn another day so that he can rest. And there's bound to be some sort of doctor or apothecary nearby, should Peter's condition require a second opinion."

"Miss Clarke'd be miffed if you brought in some strange doctor, my lord."

Julian smiled. "Yes, she would, wouldn't she? Well, she needn't worry, for I'm more willing to trust Peter entirely into Miss Clarke's care than to some provincial quack. With luck, our patient will be much better on the morrow and we can proceed. We're so close to being home."

Pleshy looked thoughtful. "It'll be odd sayin' goodbye to them, won't it? Janet's a taking little thing, wooden leg'n all."

Julian darted a keen look at his valet. "Waxing sentimental, Pleshy? You
are
minding my admonition, aren't you?"

Pleshy lifted his chin. "Of course I am, my lord! And you didn't need to tell me to, neither. I never intended to befoul the chit. She's too sweet and innocent for that sort of slap and tickle."

"Good God, the little Clarke's saintly spirit has inspired even my rakish valet to dust off his conscience! And about time, I'd say," Julian said, laughing.

Pleshy grinned. "No tellin' how long it'll last, my lord. Not long, I hope. Just till Janet's on her way home, I expect."

"Then it's Janet's influence and not Miss Clarke's that has brought you to this pass, my friend," Julian warned him playfully. "Watch yourself, Pleshy, or it's parson's mousetrap for you!"

Pleshy shrugged and looked sheepish. Julian enjoyed another laugh at the expense of his valet, then exited the chamber, wondering at the effect Janet's ingenuous love of life had wrought on Pleshy's jaded heart. As he closed the door behind him, Sebastian rose up on his back legs and placed his front paws on Julian's knee. He yowled soulfully.

"Yes, I pity you," Julian said, dropping his hand to Sebastian's head for a brief caress. "But you cannot see him till after I've eaten my dinner. In the meantime, you must endure the company of less beloved beings like myself and Miss Clarke. Come along." Then he lifted Sebastian into his arms, imagining with patient resignation the fur that would cling to his new jacket as a result.

* * *

L
ILY SAT ON A SMALL SOFA
with Janet, waiting for Lord Ashton to enter the parlour. She slid a slightly tremulous hand up the back of her neck to collect stray wisps of hair and to endeavour to tuck them into the knot that Janet had arranged at the nape. The maid had brushed Lily's hair till it shone as glossy as silk, but that was the limit to her talent as a
coiffeuse.
As always one strand of chestnut hair fell forward on Lily's cheek, and tonight, due to Janet's well-meaning but fumbled execution, several strands also fell down her neck. Oh, well. Lord Ashton knew Janet was not adept as an abigail. Lily's haphazard hairstyle would simply attest to that.

And as for chaperoning, Janet obviously did not perceive it as very exciting or as much of a challenge, because already she was growing drowsy. She had brought some handwork to do, and she was nodding over her stitchery like a drooping flower full of evening dew.

When the door opened and Lord Ashton entered with Sebastian in his arms, Janet did not even look up. But how anyone could doze while the room was electrified with the viscount's vital presence was a huge mystery to Lily. She felt the man's daunting energy invade her every nerve, a feeling not unlike what she imagined the moon's powerful effect to be on the ebb and flow of tides—mystical, compelling, irresistible. Goodness, she had become poetic in her thinking, hadn't she? What would Papa say?