The Rebel (41 page)

Surely, it would be easier just to ride away
and forget he’d ever met this woman, he thought. But he couldn’t.
The old Nicholas could have done just that and never looked back.
But the new Nicholas Spencer—the one already far too consumed by
Miss Jane Purefoy—could not.

“Where is she now?”

“In the library. The musicians have packed
their instruments and trotted off for their supper in the servants’
hall. I should think the house will be empty in another hour. Lady
Purefoy is still bustling about, of course, trying to put a good
face on everything and looking foolish for her efforts. But the
girls and Jane are waiting in the library for Sir Thomas and the
parson to end their discussion.”

***

Clara was consumed by the darkness outside
the window. Frances was pretending that she was deeply involved in
a book she had open on her lap, though she hadn’t turned the page
for quite some time. Lady Purefoy barked more orders at the
servants and returned to sit heavily on the sofa. Her agitated
fingers opened and closed the delicate fan she was holding.

Jane immediately stood up when she saw
Nicholas enter with Lady Spencer. Without any regard for her
mother’s disapproving glare, she had managed to get half way to him
when Henry Adams and Sir Thomas appeared in the doorway.

Everyone stared at the two men.

Henry’s expression was guarded as he cast a
brief glance at Jane before focusing his gaze on Clara. Sir Thomas
headed directly to a side cabinet holding a bottle of port and
glasses. He poured himself a full glass and gestured an offer to
the other men. Both declined. He downed the wine and poured himself
another before turning to Jane and addressing the group.

“The Reverend Henry Adams has asked for
Jane’s hand in marriage.”

The very breath was caught in Jane’s chest
at the announcement. She turned in confusion toward Nicholas, still
standing by the door, and saw the flash of anger, hurt, betrayal
even as he returned her gaze. Tears pooled in Jane’s eyes, and she
shook her head helplessly. Henry was still staring at Clara. The
younger sister’s face had fully turned toward the window.

“What
wonderful
news!” Lady Purefoy
piped up, breaking the heavy silence. “Reverend Adams and Jane…who
would have thought it? But considering what was said tonight…and
Parson Adams’s excellent reputation…it makes perfect sense.” The
fan opened with a snap of her fingers, and she waved it before her
face. “Actually, it will be seen as a most loyal and generous act.
Absolutely the thing to do…saving our Jane from her shocking
past.”

“From the warm reception your daughter
received tonight—before the good parson
saved
her—I would
have hoped that you’d realize that Jane is a prize in her own
right.”

Alexandra’s sharp retort in her defense made
the tears fall for the first time onto Jane’s cheeks. Nicholas was
glaring at Henry fiercely enough to cut him to pieces.

“Oh, we knew all along Jane had some
talent.” Catherine waved her fan dismissively in the air. “But a
good brush stroke does not arrange a good marriage or hide the
scandal of one’s past.”

“Naturally, we disagree there, too, Lady
Purefoy,” Alexandra persisted. “It is generally the support of
one’s family toward its members—or the lack of it—that sets the
limits to how others in their set behave openly in most
situations.”

“Not that this concerns you, given your
son’s lack of interest in Clara, but
I
did not push Jane
into the arms of any papist cur. She did the damage. She can bear
its consequences.”

“None of us, I am sure, is completely
without some youthful indiscretion in our personal history,” Lady
Spencer said mockingly. “And I wonder what would have happened to
us
if we all were blessed with such righteous and
unforgiving parents as she.”

“There is no point in this.” Catherine
closed her fan with a snap. “The announcements will be sent to the
papers tomorrow. We shall set a date for no later than a month,
though if we could arrange it sooner, so much the better. If you
have no objections, Parson, we shall simply send notices of the
wedding to our family from England and your older brother and…”

“What do
you
think of this,
Jane?”

Sir Thomas’s gruff question was so abrupt
and out of character for him that Catherine continued to speak a
few more words before realizing her husband had asked the question.
Jane was fairly astonished, too. She could not remember the last
time her father had directly addressed her.

“I…I believe we all are jumping at shadows.”
Jane quickly found her voice. She turned to Henry first. “I am
honored and touched by your offer. But I am greatly distressed, as
you and I both know there has never been anything that might be
construed as improper between us.
Ever
. You spoke before the
magistrate tonight to protect me from certain accusations. However,
there is no reason for us to act rashly and thereby encourage any
wrongheaded notions by those who were here tonight.”

Jane turned to her mother. “Henry and I have
spent many days together since childhood. In the recent years—and
since his installation at the parsonage—I have spent many nights,
as well, at Ballyclough as a guest of his and Mrs. Brown’s. As we
speak, these good people are assisting a widowed friend and her
children. There are justifiable reasons for me to be staying at the
parsonage. If you were to take the time and explain the situation
that way, there should be no reason for Henry’s reputation to be
tainted or linked in any way with mine.”

“But Jane, that is an excellent offer! No
matter
how
everything might be explained.”

“An excellent offer for
whom
?” Jane
lashed out at her mother. “Shall we punish Henry for being noble
and wanting to do the honorable thing for me? Shall I marry him
against my will and, in so doing, rob him of any chance of future
happiness with a woman who could be deserving of him? I believe the
only one who will benefit from this
excellent
offer of
marriage is
you
, Mother…for you shall finally be rid of
me.”

“Sir Thomas,” Catherine turned pleading eyes
on her husband. “Tell her she must marry.”

The ex-magistrate did not say a word, but
his dark gaze locked on his daughter’s face. Jane was surprised to
find herself capable of looking into the man’s eyes without the
hostility of a lifetime clouding her vision. She found him
different from the man she knew him to be. Something unexplainable
had penetrated the layers of harshness and arrogance. She answered
his unspoken question.

“I should like to wait and let the rumors
fade.” Jane turned to Henry and smiled gratefully at him. “You
understand.”

He nodded.

Before anyone could move or say anything
more, Alexandra spoke out. “Perhaps distance, as well as time, can
be of assistance in this situation.”

She paused and then turned her attention to
Catherine. “What would you say, Lady Purefoy, if I were to take
your two daughters with me to England on a holiday for a few weeks
or so. Perhaps, during their absence, explanations can be
circulated and rumor will die a natural death. More importantly,
however, they will get a chance to become better acquainted with my
family.”

“Oh!” The suggestion clearly startled the
hostess. “Do you mean Sir Nicholas would be accompanying you back
to England, as well?”

Alexandra received a nod from her son. “Of
course. Nicholas and Frances will both come back with us. And I
shall even arrange that we all escort them back to Ireland in a
month or so.”

The suggestion brought immediate life to
Lady Purefoy’s demeanor. Jane and everyone else could plainly see
that the woman’s delight centered on the prospect of Clara and
Nicholas spending time together. But Jane was too drained to worry
about any of this now. She had avoided one disaster with Henry, now
she had a short holiday left to convince Nicholas that—even though
she loved him—he had to accept that there could never be a chance
of a future between them.

“Sir Thomas,” Catherine called jubilantly to
her husband. “What do you think of Lady Spencer’s brilliant
idea?”

The ex-magistrate gave a curt nod. “I agree.
Jane needs to be away from this blasted Ireland.”

Seated in the spacious library of his
Berkeley Square townhouse, the Earl of Stanmore watched with a
great deal of interest and curiosity as his best friend raged as he
paced back and forth across the room. He had never seen Nicholas
like this.

Very interesting, indeed, he thought, hiding
a smile.

Stanmore had already pieced together that
his friend had sailed from Cork City on Sunday, arrived in Broad
Quay in Bristol the same night, and had ridden all day yesterday to
arrive in London late last night. And already this morning,
Nicholas had tracked down the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, who
happened to be in London en route to a shooting party in
Yorkshire.

Stanmore glanced at his pocket watch. It was
barely ten o’clock in the morning, and Nicholas seemed to have the
rest of the day filled with meetings with Crown officials and who
knew what else! By the devil, he’d never known Nicholas to rise
before noon, unless it was for some sporting reason.

“Stanmore, you know I have never been in the
habit of asking favors of my friends. But this time I am making an
exception.” Nicholas came to an abrupt stop before the earl’s desk.
“Meet with him at noon. Stress everything I have told you. It is
essential that something be done about Musgrave before he does some
irrevocable damage.”

“But you have already told me that the man
was very sympathetic to your concerns and promised to look into
it.”

“Perhaps he will, but I cannot afford the
matter to be put off. It is crucial for him to act immediately. In
hearing it from you, one of the distinguished members of the House
of the Lords, in addition to hearing it from the Surveyor of the
Navy…”

“Blast, Nicholas! Have you already been to
Nathaniel Yorke’s house, as well, this morning?”

“Of course not! I went there last night.” He
planted his hands on the earl’s desk. “This is very important to
me, Stanmore. More so than you can ever imagine!”

The chiseled features of the earl reflected
his genuine interest as he leaned back in the chair.

“Who is she?”

***

Clara had not weathered the rough journey
from Ireland very well, and as a result of staying beside her
sister, Jane had seen very little of Nicholas during their trip.
Even those few glimpses, however, had been better than his
disappearance soon after their ship tied up in Bristol.
Nonetheless, she could not bring herself to ask his mother or
sister about his whereabouts or his expected return.

Curiously, after spending the night in an
inn at quayside in the port town, Lady Spencer had developed a keen
interest to visit an “ancient” friend in Bath. As they breakfasted,
she’d mentioned that a visit to the nearby resort city would also
have its advantages for Clara, who could spend a couple of days
recovering there before they hired a carriage for London.

And then, for some inexplicable reason or
other, Frances was extremely impatient to get back to London. So
after a short discussion, it was agreed that Jane would accompany
the younger woman to London and Lady Spencer would follow in a few
days with Clara.

During the trip, which had been broken up
into comfortable stages over two days, Frances had spoken
ceaselessly, telling Jane everything about the school she had been
attending in Brussels to her excitement over settling into a girls
school in England. She’d also made certain to drop Nicholas’s name
in at least every other sentence, singing his praises in a way that
Jane knew only a sister trying her hand at the matchmaking for her
brother could do. Jane had been touched by the attempt, knowing all
the while that there was not a thing she could say or do to make
Frances understand how unlikely such a union could be.

That would be a conversation for Jane and
Nicholas alone, and until then, she would keep her sorrows to
herself.

In the afternoon of the second day, Frances
stirred from the nap she’d been taking as the escalating city
noises announced the arrival of coach in London. She gave Jane a
sleepy-eyed smile and stretched. Once again, Jane was overwhelmed
by the young woman’s beauty and innocence…and her strong
resemblance to Nicholas. She had been trying so hard not to dwell
on the talk that the two of them
had
to have. There had not
been an opportunity to explain anything to him since the day she’d
fled Woodfield House in the early hours of morning. Their last
moments alone together had been spent making love on the small cot
in her work area.

Not a bad memory, Jane thought, quickly
blinking back tears and lifting the shade to look out onto the busy
streets.

“I cannot believe what good time we made,”
Frances said excitedly, moving to the seat facing Jane and looking
out, as well. “Perhaps after dinner, if you don’t mind, I can
invite my friend Elizabeth to come over a little while. Her family
has a house on Leicester Square—quite near Nicholas’s—and although
she is younger than I by a year, we really enjoy each other’s
company. She is really quite lovely.”

“No, I don’t mind at all.”

Frances placed her hand on top of Jane’s.
“And thank you for staying with me…with us. I remember, from
Clara’s last visit to London, that you have some family here. But I
am so glad that you have decided to stay with us instead.”

Jane smiled warmly. “I would have never left
Ireland if I had to spend my time here with my parents’ family. I
am afraid my father’s sisters have never recovered from the scandal
of my youth. And on my mother’s side…well, perhaps we should just
not mention them.”