In the Arms of an Earl (24 page)

“Oh, there’s no need to move now.” But Alice’s tone belied her words. “As the new countess, I am certain you will do as you see fit.”

Jane tore open the doors of the other wardrobes, looking for a corset, petticoats…anything. “I have no intention of changing things, Alice. I’m sure you have everything the way it ought to be.” The towel hung awkwardly on her, and she gripped it with her hands. She swept a heavy wet strand of hair from her face. “Frederick was looking forward to our meeting. He…he thinks we will be as sisters.”

“I have three younger sisters, all of them intolerable creatures. How many sisters have you, Jane?”

“Two.”

“Well.” Alice opened a chest and handed Jane some crisply starched under garments, “Apparently, neither of us is lacking for the company of sisters.” She nodded sharply. “Are you going to continue to drip water all over the carpet?” She clucked her tongue. “You needn’t be shy with me, Jane. Bridges will not be along for several minutes.”

She seemed to wait for a response. Jane removed the towel, her face burning from embarrassment. Except for when she was very young, she had not been helped into her undergarments. She pulled the chemise over her head, her hair tangling in the ribbon ties. Alice quickly helped her to straighten it out and fastened the ties, her eyes sharply appraising her so Jane felt like a prize cow at the Weston farmer’s market.

“You certainly hide it well enough,” Alice remarked.

“What do I hide?”

“The fact you are carrying the Blakeney heir.”

Jane swallowed her outrage and disgust when she remembered Alice was in mourning. She composed herself before replying.

“I am not pregnant.”

She went to a wardrobe and removed the first gown she touched. It was a pink muslin dress with three flounces of wide lace above the hem. On any other occasion, she’d have delighted in such a dress, but now, she mechanically pulled it over her head. As soon as she had it on, she realized she’d forgotten her corset.

“I beg your pardon.” Alice’s smirk showed little remorse. “I naturally assumed. The marriage was so hastily arranged, and Frederick hardly knew you. I was amazed as anyone when he announced he was returning to town with a bride in tow.”

“We met a few months ago.” Jane tried not to rise to Alice’s accusations. “We were both guests at the house of a mutual friend.”

“Ah, yes. The boorish Robert Parker and his gouty leg! What is the daughter’s name? The vapid chit with the mass of yellow hair? I met her at Dornley Park a few years ago. Chattered incessantly, and not a trace of breeding, for all that her mother was third cousin to a duke.”

“Lucinda,” Jane replied, nearly writhing with embarrassment for her friend. Poor Lucinda, to be judged so harshly.

“Yes, Lucinda.” She shuddered. “And the son—Jeremy, I believe. Frederick has always complained about that person’s manners. He caused such a scandal one season he’s never dared shown his face again in the best circles.”

“Jeremy Parker is a carefree person,” Jane said in his defense, though she didn’t know why she should have to make any excuses to Alice.

“I’m sure he is,” Alice replied coolly. “So—you were with the Parkers. What is your connection to them?”

Jane met Alice’s sharp look with her own steady gaze. “Colonel Parker is my father’s friend. I spent part of the summer with his family. Frederick was also a guest.”

The shadowy look on Alice’s face cleared. “Ah! I understand now. Your father was in the same regiment.”

“No, he was not.”

Again, Alice’s eyebrows darted upward. “If he’s not a soldier, what does your father do?”

A wash of heat spread from Jane’s chest to her forehead. She’d always been proud of her father’s profession as genteel farmer. She bit her lip. “He is a gentleman.”

“I’m sure every lady wishes to call her father one.” Her small eyes seemed to be studying her. Jane felt rather like a beetle trapped in a child’s jar. “No doubt, your introduction to the future Earl of Falconbury was a welcome relief to your family.”

“I was betrothed to Frederick when he was Colonel Blakeney,” Jane replied, trying to keep her voice from wavering. Oh, to have a smidge of Rosalind’s sharp wit right now! “His station had nothing to do with my loving him. I would have married him if he were a…a farmer, or a shopkeeper.”

Alice’s laugh reverberated in Jane’s head. “A shopkeeper! Heaven provide for us!” She motioned for Jane to turn and laced up the back of the dress, swiping Jane’s long wet hair over her shoulder. “I hope you do not take offense for my speaking so bluntly. I have known Frederick a very long time.” She tugged at the gown’s loose bodice. “He should have consulted me when it came to your clothes.” Sighing, she shook her head while she plucked at the sides of the gown. “The modiste will have to take in all of your gowns. You haven’t much to fill them out, have you?”

Unsure of how to reply, Jane was relieved when Sarah came in. Her smile quickly faded when she saw Alice.

“Come and help your mistress,” Alice said coldly, stepping back. “You may need to start all over again, as she has neglected her underpinnings.”

Avoiding Alice’s gaze, Jane allowed Sarah to undress her and corset her tightly. The gown was replaced, and she sat before the dressing table, where Sarah fixed her hair so quickly Jane hardly noticed.

Confusion swam about her mouth as if she had swallowed something bitter. Frederick had always spoken so sympathetically about his sister-in-law she was convinced of her tender heart and manners. She met Sarah’s gaze, noting the poor girl’s tight lips and knitted brows.

“All done, milady.” She exited before Jane could thank her.

Alice headed for the door. “I will show you the rest of the house. There are certain rooms which are restricted, so you would be wise to know them.”

“Why are they restricted?”

Alice’s lips curled in a faint sneer. “Because they are.”

Jane slipped on her wedding shoes and winced at the pinching toes. But it was no matter; she would find the rest of her shoes tomorrow. While Alice pointed out various doors Jane could or could not open, she couldn’t help but compare herself to Alice.

Where Jane was tall and slender, Alice’s petite frame was offset with a full bosom no amount of widow’s weeds could undermine. Her pale skin looked ethereal, while Jane detested her own constantly blushing cheeks. Her new dress, while the height of fashion on anyone else, hung on her slim shoulders. The embroidered bodice sagged. Evidently, Frederick had exaggerated her endowments to the modiste.

As they walked downstairs, several servants and footmen rushed between the rooms with trays of food. Some pushed silver carts loaded with decanters of spirits. Fresh flower arrangements dotted every table and sideboard, and Jane’s stomach rumbled at the scents of baked goods wafting through the air. The last thing she’d eaten was a leftover piece of bread Frederick had toasted at the inn.

Alice gave orders to one of the servants, a flustered older woman who resembled a chicken as she bobbed her head at nearly every word Alice spoke.

“Is dining always this involved?” Jane couldn’t recall the last time her mother’s handful of servants took more than a few hours to prepare supper. But then again, Hartleigh was by no means on the same scale as Falconbury House.

“We’re having a small dinner party tonight,” Alice said dismissively, inspecting an elaborate display of white roses. She snapped off a broken bud and handed it to a footman without even looking at him. “This house is still in mourning, so it will just be close friends. I have some jewels you may borrow, until Frederick gives you the Blakeney set.”

Her doubtful look implied she didn’t think very much of Jane wearing the Blakeney jewels.

“I don’t like to wear a lot of jewelry,” Jane began, but Alice cut her off by lifting Jane’s hand. She examined her wedding ring with a sharp eye.

“A woman would not need a lot of jewelry if she possessed a ring like yours. So, this is the fabled Pandora diamond. I’d heard he’d bought it for you. You are quite the envy of the
ton
, my dear country sister.”

Jane hid her hand in the folds of her skirt. “I was surprised when he gave it to me.”

“No doubt, your mother was quite impressed.”

“I do not recall her mentioning it.”

“I’m sure it’s not every day a country girl receives such a ring.” Her hawklike stare seemed to penetrate Jane’s innermost being, as if to solve a mystery of why a man like Frederick would waste his time on someone like her.

“I agree I am extremely fortunate to have married Frederick, but I do not wish to comment on his gifts to me.” Despite her best efforts to match Alice’s bold tone, the inevitable fire spread across her face.

Alice focused her attention on the floral arrangement. Jane feared she would explode with pent-up tension.

“You must accompany me tomorrow to the home of my dear friend Lady Brewster. Frederick wants you to make as many acquaintances as possible, so you shan’t be lonely in his absence.”

Amazed how Alice could change from cold enemy to friendly hostess in a second, Jane almost dismissed the latter part of her words. Her anxiety returned, which she sensed was exactly the reaction Alice sought. “Why will he be absent?”

Alice’s lips curled in a mocking smile. “My dear, have you no knowledge of how a gentleman lives in London? Why, he has his club and dinner parties and other social obligations to keep him occupied. You did not think he would spend every evening at home, did you?”

Although she had, Jane shook her head. “But, surely, during the day he will be gone. He must come home to…to eat supper and sleep.”

“That’s why he has Henry’s old rooms at White’s,” she said imperiously. “When Parliament was in session, I rarely saw Henry. You’ll be wise to find other occupations of your time than waiting for your husband to entertain you. Fortunately, I will be happy to show you about town. Then, when you do see him, you will have plenty to talk about.”

“I didn’t know he would be so busy.” Jane fought her growing anxiety.

Alice waved her words away with fluttering fingers. “Well, how could you know? Your father never belonged to a club, did he?”

Alice was using every way possible to irritate her, but Jane would not rise to it. “My father seldom comes to town and would have no use for a club. But it matters little, as we intend to stay in town only until the session ends. And then we will go to Dornley Park.”

“Ah, yes—the specter of the session’s inevitable end!” Alice laughed, but it was dry and humorless. “I lost count of how many times Henry dangled the promise of Dornley Park before me, but something always came up, and we did not go. I cannot imagine Frederick leaving so quickly, either. He never told you how much he loves town? He was the toast of the season last year, and the most eligible bachelor. I assure you, there are many broken hearts from St. James’s to Windsor Park because Frederick Blakeney has taken a wife.”

Alice described a stranger. Surely, he’d have mentioned these things. She’d naturally assumed he loved the country as much as she did. Her heart thudded, and she carefully studied an arrangement of lilies on a sideboard.

“I had no idea,” she said at last.

“Apparently, there is much you do not know about him.” Alice tapped her fingers against her chin. “Tell me, Jane,” she continued, “have you any taste for embroidery or netting purses? Lady Brewster and I were going to work on ours tomorrow.”

“I do not sew.” Alice’s revelations had done enough damage. How could she contemplate anything as mundane as sewing?

“Perhaps I can teach you. You’re going to need something to occupy yourself in this big house.” Alice regarded her sharply. “You might have a rest before our little party. You do look peaked. I suspect your long journey was very tiring.”

Jane curtsied, grateful to leave Alice’s artificial smile and faked concern. She wandered through the grand house until she found the main hall. The paintings in the gallery held no interest for her, and she forgot she’d wanted to study them. She reached the second floor and spent another ten minutes before she found her chamber again. Sarah was in her dressing room, and her guarded look was replaced by a quick smile when she saw Jane.

“Why was Alice put out of her rooms?” Jane asked. “I’d like to move to another chamber to avoid any hurt feelings.”

Sarah quirked an eyebrow. “These were not Lady Alice’s rooms, Mrs. Blakeney. These were the guest chambers used in the old days, when his lordship’s mother was alive. His lordship had them newly furnished for your arrival. Lady Alice is still in the same chamber she shared with his lordship, God rest his soul.”

“So why would…?” Jane bit off her words. It was apparent Alice was trying to intimidate her. She sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I suppose she is still upset, having been widowed recently.” It was a hint Sarah jumped on.

“Begging your pardon, ma’am, this house was not in mourning very long.” She glanced uneasily at the door, as if Alice would walk through it at any moment.

“What do you mean?” Even in Weston, widows kept a respectable seclusion for at least half a year, emerging only for church services and quiet occasions.

“She’s had several dinner parties and outings. I even heard her ladyship laugh in conversation with the late earl’s cousin, Lord Felix.”

“I suppose one must laugh from time to time, despite sorrow. Does Colonel—I mean, his lordship, my husband—know of these parties?”