Jack of Hearts (27 page)

“Did you take lessons when you were younger?”

“Yes, my father wanted to make sure I had all the accomplishments of a young lady. Unfortunately, the one thing I excelled at—mathematics—was not considered to be a ladylike subject!”

“And I always hated doing my sums at school and have a passion for music, Miss Heriot. So we are both unfashionable in our tastes,” responded Lord Windham with a smile.

“I love music and I get much satisfaction out of keeping the accounts, but I must admit that I consider neither a passion,” admitted Anne. “Mine is a very practical nature, I am afraid.”

“Oh, surely not entirely practical, Miss Heriot. And you seemed quite passionate when you spoke of reform the other day.”

“How would you define passion, my lord?” Anne asked him.

Until now, the tone of their conversation had been light, but Windham’s voice became more serious as he answered her. “I would say that we all have likes and dislikes that come from ourselves, as it were. But to me, passion is a feeling for someone or something that seems to come from elsewhere—a pull or an attraction quite beyond our control.”

Windham spoke with an intensity that Anne had never heard from him before, and it seemed to her, an underlying sadness. It made her wonder how much he was speaking from experience. Had he wanted to do something with his music, perhaps—which would have been quite impossible for a member of the nobility?

“I suppose there is an element of that in my concern over the mills, something that draws me into issues I have never thought of before,” Anne said thoughtfully. “But I have never experienced such feelings before, certainly not for any person.”

“Then you are lucky, Miss Heriot,” the viscount told her with an ironic smile. “But look, the musicians have returned, the next piece of music is by Haydn, and there will not be a hint of passion in it,” he said with a laugh.

Lord Windham had steered their conversation out of deeper waters, but as Anne let the patterns of the music soothe her, she wondered what it would be like to be married to a man whose nature was passionate when the basis of their relationship would so clearly be practical.

* * * *

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us, Sarah?” asked Anne the next day, as she slipped into her pelisse.

“You don’t need me with Lady Eliza there, Anne. And I think it best for the three of you to spend some time together.”

“The Leighton carriage is here, Miss Heriot,” Peters announced.

“Wish me luck, Sarah!”

“I am sure it will all go well,” Sarah reassured her.

Anne was not so sure, judging from the blank-faced young woman who sat opposite them in the carriage. Lady Eliza gave her a polite smile, but then pointedly turned her gaze out the window while her father chatted nervously about the weather.

Anne had never seen Steven Leighton nervous before, and it rather marred her picture of him. He had always exuded self-confidence. On the other hand, she had to admit that introducing an almost-grown daughter to a potential stepmother would make the most insouciant man afraid!

When they reached the park, it was just beginning to become crowded with the usual late-afternoon crush of riders and carriages, and the baron steered them carefully to those paths used almost exclusively by walkers. They bowed to acquaintances and stopped two or three times to chat. Once or twice Anne even caught an animated look on Lady Eliza’s face when she encountered a family friend.

“There are benches by the lake,” Leighton said, “and Eliza brought a small bag of crumbs for the ducks.”

“You made me bring it, Papa,” Eliza protested.

“Yes, and Eliza
made
me carry it,” he joked to Anne.

“I am not a child anymore, Papa.”

“I know,” Leighton said with real sadness. “And I hate to admit it, Eliza.” For a moment, Lady Eliza’s closed face opened as her father held out his hand and she grasped it, with a loving smile that brought a pang to Anne’s heart.

“I remember becoming very exasperated with my father, Lady Eliza, when he would forget that I was almost a young lady.”

Lady Eliza’s face closed again, and she said nothing in reply.

When they reached the lake, the baron held out the bag to his daughter.

“No, Papa, it was your idea. You feed the ducks yourself.” Lady Eliza’s statement was leavened by her teasing tone, and Anne was gratified to see some feeling under her sullen countenance.

“We will sit down on the bench and watch you in dignified silence, my lord,” Anne said with a twinkle in her eye.

Leighton heaved a dramatic sigh and said, “Well, then, I will go and make myself look foolish.” He wandered down to the water’s edge and began to sprinkle crumbs, which drew a covey of ducks away from a little boy and his nurse, farther down the bank.

“I’ve run out of crumbs, luv,” the nurse told her charge, who had a heartbroken look on his face as his web-footed friends coldly deserted him. When the baron realized what had happened, he walked over and, kneeling down, offered the child his bag.

“That was very sweet of your papa,” Anne said.

“It won’t do, you know,” Lady Eliza said quietly. Anne was taken aback by the fierceness in her tone.

“What won’t?” she asked calmly.

“You know what I mean, Miss Heriot. I won’t let you buy Papa. He deserves better than someone in trade.”

Anne sat quietly for a minute and then said, “If it is not me, it will be someone else, Lady Eliza. And that someone else will most likely also be a Cit’s daughter,” she added dryly.

“Papa need not marry at all,” Lady Eliza declared.

“I rather think he does. His title is old, but his estates are quite impoverished. And he wishes to do well by you,” Anne added in a softer tone. “To make sure you have a proper Season.”

“I don’t need to find a husband. I have one in mind already. Lord David Spence and I have known each other for years and are very much in love. As soon as he comes of age next year we will be betrothed. And Papa will not have to marry anyone at all then. He will have all the money he needs.”

“A lot can happen in a year, my lady. And then there are Lord David’s parents. They might have something to say about him marrying a dowerless young woman.” Anne hesitated. “I think I know how you feel, Lady Eliza,” she said kindly. “My mother died when I was young, and my father and I were each other’s only family for years. I would have found it hard had he ever planned to remarry.”

“You can’t know how I feel, Miss Heriot. The situation of a mill owner’s daughter is quite different from mine.”

“Tha has a lot to learn, lass, if tha thinks the human heart beats differently under different roofs,” Anne chided, stung into broad Yorkshire.

“I don’t intend to learn it from you, Miss Heriot,” said Lady Eliza, and she got up and walked over to her father. With her sweetest smile on her face, she helped the little boy throw out the last crusts.

Well, tha’rt soom actress, lass, thought Anne. I’ll bet tha father would never guess what a strong-willed lass he has on his hands. But I suppose with a doting father and grandparents, tha has never had anyone cross tha.

Given Lady Eliza’s age and upbringing, Anne knew the girl’s meanness shouldn’t have bothered her. But it did, and though she was as good an actress as his daughter, she was very glad when the baron suggested they make their way back to the carriage.

“I hope you both had a chance to get better acquainted?”

“We did, Papa.”

“Yes, I feel I know Lady Eliza very well now,” Anne told him, her face as bland as blancmange.

They were halfway to the carriage when Anne heard a voice calling her.

“Miss Heriot! Over here!”

It was Lady Lydia, waving wildly, while her older sister was obviously trying to get her to behave in a more dignified manner.

“How nice to see you,” said Anne. “May I introduce you to Lord Leighton and his daughter, Lady Eliza.”

“It is a pleasure,” Helen said shyly, while Liddy bobbed up and down in a curtsy.

“Were you feeding the ducks?” she asked when she saw the empty sack in the baron’s hands.

“We were,” he said with a grin.

“
You
were, Papa,” Eliza said, rolling her eyes and sighing.

Lady Helen looked at her with sympathy while Liddy chattered about the clutch of ducklings that had swum over to them.

“Surely you are not here alone, Lady Helen,” Anne asked.

“No, no, Miss Heriot. My cousin is with us, but he met someone and let us go on ahead.”

“Here is Aldborough now,” said the baron.

Jack hurried across the grass toward them. “I cannot believe you girls deserted me like that,” he teased.

“I couldn’t stand the way Miss Perry and Lady Mary were batting their eyes at you, Jack,” said the irrepressible Lydia.

“Neither could I, Liddy, but at least I was polite,” Jack laughed.

Having established that their carriages were in the same direction, the three grown-ups fell behind while the girls walked ahead.

“Do you know Miss Heriot well?” Lady Eliza asked Helen.

“We spent a day sight-seeing together. I liked her very much.”

“I suppose she is nice enough for someone of so common a background,” Eliza said coolly.

Helen was shocked into silence by Lady Eliza’s dislike.

“My cousin Jack is trying to get her to marry him, so she cannot be
that
common,” said Liddy, warmly defending her relative.

“My father is also hoping to marry her,” said Eliza, “but I hope your cousin wins her, for I have no need of a stepmama.”

“Well, we hope she marries him, too, don’t we, Helen?”

Helen grabbed her sister’s hand and squeezed it tight. “It is not ladylike to be indulging in such
common
gossip,” she said pointedly and, turning the subject to something more innocent, noted Lady Eliza’s flush of embarrassment with pleasure.

* * * *

Later, when they had finished their tea and Liddy was in the corner with her mother playing a hand of piquet, Helen looked over at Jack. “May I ask you something personal, cousin?”

“Of course,” he said, looking at her curiously.

“Do you think Miss Heriot intends to accept you?”

“I don’t know, Helen. What do you think?” he responded, a quizzical look on his face.

Helen did not immediately answer his question. “Lady Eliza says her father wants to marry Miss Heriot also.”

“Since we are speaking frankly, I may as well tell you that Lord Windham is yet another suitor.”

Helen looked serious for a moment. “Oh, dear, that is a problem. Lord Richard is so handsome,” she said, without thinking.

“And I thought only Liddy was brutally frank!” said Jack with a laugh. Helen rushed in to reassure him. “Oh, but he is not rumored to have captured as many hearts as you have, Cousin Jack. And you have that brooding look that ladies like.”

“Another hit!”

“Why, that was not an insult!”

“In Miss Heriot’s view it is, my dear. The very thing she likes least about me is my ability to collect ladies’ hearts.”

Helen patted his hand reassuringly. “Well, I don’t think you will have to worry about Lord Leighton.”

“Oh, and why is that? They were walking along as though they were a family already.”

“Lady Eliza is the reason. She was quite insulting to Miss Heriot. I think she is a spoiled girl who will not tolerate anyone else’s claims to her father’s attention.”

“I certainly hope you are right,” said Jack, regarding his young cousin with respect. “And may I say that I have always appreciated your good sense and lack of spoiled behavior.”

Helen laughed. “Who could be self-important with Liddy around!”

Jack chuckled. “Yes, I see what you mean.” he hesitated. “So you like Miss Heriot?”

“I do. But the more important question is, do you?”

Jack felt himself grow warm under her inquiring gaze. “As a matter of fact, very much. But the most important question before us is whether she will accept Windham because of his blindingly handsome face!”

“You are very handsome in your own way,” Helen began seriously and then saw the twinkle in her cousin’s eye. “You are funning me!”

“Only a little. I do hope you are right about the baron, but I suspect I am still last on Miss Heriot’s list.”

* * * *

Anne had done a very good job of hiding her anger and hurt on the way home, but once she was inside the house, she went looking for Sarah. She found her in the library, in front of the fire.

“It has grown surprisingly chilly this afternoon,” said Sarah, “so I came in here.”

“Yes, I was very glad of my pelisse,” murmured Anne. She sat down for a moment and then popped up again, walking over to her desk and riffling through some papers.

“You seem restless, Anne. Wasn’t the walk enough exercise for you?” Sarah asked, knowing Anne’s love for long tramps.

“We stopped to feed the ducks,” Anne told her with a wry smile.

“Why, that is very sweet. I would have thought Lady Eliza a little too old for that.”

“Oh, Lady Eliza
is
too old for it. Her papa did the honors while she and I sat on a bench and watched. And got to know one another better. Believe me, Sarah, Lady Eliza is not sweet at all.”

“What did she say to you?”

“Oh, only that she would not want to see her well-bred papa married to someone as common as a mill owner’s daughter.”

“Why, what a disrespectful little chit!” exclaimed Sarah. She could hear the pain as well as the anger in Anne’s voice.

“Yes,” Anne said dryly. “I was prepared to overlook a lot, for you know I can understand it would be difficult to share her father. But she threw my sympathy right back in my face!” Anne sighed. “I don’t think I could live with that kind of meanness. It might be different if the baron and I were making a love match. But as much as I think he likes me, I suspect his loyalty will always be with his daughter.” She was quiet for a moment. “We met Lady Helen and Lady Lydia on the way out of the park.” Anne smiled. “Lydia is so adorably natural. And Helen a real lady.”

“I could imagine you becoming Cousin Anne very easily.”

“If only it didn’t mean marrying their Cousin Jack!”