Jack of Hearts (8 page)

It was a cold morning and Ned’s coat was thin, but he was suddenly so furious that he didn’t feel the cold, only the heat of his anger.

Ned was willing to admit that hard work as well as good fortune had made Robert Heriot successful. But Miss Anne Heriot had likely never done an hour’s work in her life and was rich enough to go off to London and buy herself a duke! His Nancy was up before dawn to feed and dress her brothers and sisters and get them off to work. He and Nancy themselves had been working in the mill since they were six, and all so Anne Heriot could loll her life away and then go off shopping for a husband.

Ned was almost to the crossroads when his way was blocked by a milling flock of sheep. He heard a high whistle and saw an older man signaling to one of the two dogs that accompanied him. In an instant the dog circled the sheep and forced them into a tight bunch.

“We’ll be out of tha way in a minute, lad,” called the old man as he climbed down a stile.

“Tha dog is a reet good one.”

“Oh, aye, couldn’t do anything without her. Th’art not from around here, lad?”

“I’m from Shipton.”

“Near t’mill, then.”

“I work there.”

“So, tha works with t’wool these silly buggers produce!” said the old man with a smile.

“It would take a lot more of them to keep us in work!”

“Aye, I know that. Mr. Heriot, he liked to have t’sheep around just to remind him where he’d coom from, and Miss Heriot’s kept them out. What are tha doing so far from home, lad?”

“I came to see tha mistress, but I hear she’s gone to London.”

“Aye, poor lass.”

“Poor lass!”

The old shepherd gave Ned an inquiring look. “Tha sounds angry, lad. Art foolish enough to think that money is t’only thing that can make tha rich?”

“Maybe I am foolish, but that’s what I’ve always heard,” said Ned sarcastically.

“Nay, all t’money in t’world won’t buy tha happiness or love.”

“According to her footman, that’s exactly what it is going to buy Miss Heriot.”

“She’s set off to get herself a husband, lad, but that does not mean she’ll be finding love. Does tha have soomone?”

Ned nodded.

“Then tha’rt richer than she is.”

“My Nance just got turned off her job in t’mill because of Miss Heriot.”

“How does tha figure that, lad?”

“Nance were happy because we’d just got engaged t’night before. She forgot where she was and she started whistling. T’overseer reported her to Mr. Trantor, and she were turned out.”

“And tha blames Miss Heriot?”

“I blame Joseph Trantor, but Miss Heriot is t’owner of t’mill, and so she is responsible.”

“Come back in a few weeks, lad, and see her. I’ll wager tha’ll get satisfaction.”

“In three weeks, Nance and her family could be in t’workhouse,” Ned said bitterly.

“I am sorry for tha troubles, lad.”

The old shepherd was clearly sincere, and Ned was touched by his sympathy.

“Thank tha, sir.”

“Coom back in three weeks’ time, lad. T’weather will be changing soon; I can feel it in my old bones. Miss Heriot wants to be back before t’cold really sets in. How did tha get here?”

“I walked partway and caught a ride for most of it.”

“If tha goes down into town and calls at tavern, tha’ll find Josiah Croft. He be as regular as clockwork—has an ale and then drives into Shipton to visit his aunt of a Sunday. Tell him I sent tha. At least tha won’t have to walk home.”

“Tha’rt reet kind.”

“And here, lad,” said the old shepherd, rummaging in his coat pocket and handing Ned a few pennies, “buy thaself an ale!”

* * * *

Ned got back home by six o’clock and went directly to the Hart and Horn, where he knew he would find his brother.

“Ah, there’s t’sprout,” Tom Gibson called out when he saw Ned come in. “Did tha make it to Heriot Hall, lad? Did tha see Miss Heriot? Did she give Nance her job back?” Tom’s tone grew more and more sardonic with each question.

Ned slid onto a bench next to his brother. “I got there all reet, Tom. I didn’t even have to walk all t’way, going or coming. But I couldn’t see Miss Heriot.”

“Tha means t’bitch wouldn’t see tha.”

Ned looked over at his older brother. Tom’s face was red from too many ales, and his tone had turned ugly, as it did nowadays after his third drink. Ned sighed. He hated to see his brother like this. Once, Tom had been his hero, one of General Ludd’s followers, a man who fought for justice. But that was before he was jailed twice for “conspiring” under the Combination Acts and then lost his job at the mills. For the last two years he’d taken whatever odd jobs he could find, but his wife, Susan, had had to assume the support of their family, and the shame of that had driven him to drink more and more. Ned had had to intervene more than once when Tom had gone after Susan after a night of drinking. His brother was always ashamed in the morning, but by early afternoon he was drinking again.

“Miss Heriot couldn’t see me because she wasn’t there, Tom. She’s in London, gone to find herself a husband,” he added with a grin, trying to lighten the tone of their conversation.

“To buy herself one, tha means! Doesn’t it make tha angry, Ned, to think that she is buying herself a man with money she didn’t lift a finger to earn? That she lives in that big house, while we live in matchboxes? That she’ll come home, whistling all she wants over her engagement?”

“Oh, aye, it makes me reet furious, Tom,” Ned admitted with a heavy sigh. “But there is little tha or I can do about it.”

“Tha art reet about that, little brother,” Tom replied, his voice full of self-disgust. “We tried, but they sent out more troops against us than they did against Boney, or so it seemed.”

“She’s coming back before t’holidays. At least that’s what her shepherd told me. A reet nice old man. He told me to coom back then to speak with her.”

“It will take more than a pleasant conversation over a cup of tea to change things, Ned, and tha knows it. And in t’meantime, what is tha Nance going to do?”

“I don’t know, Tom, I don’t know.”

* * * *

London

“How did your encounter with Anne go the other morning, Jack?” Val asked his friend later that week at a supper dance.

“I rushed in, Val, like a fool. I suspect that Leighton and Windham have been more careful. But then, I’ve never been mistaken for an angel!”

Val laughed. “Nor for a fool. What did you do?”

“I thought Miss Heriot might appreciate frankness, so I referred to our common search for a mate… You know, people are always going on about my damned charm, Valentine. I have no idea what it is! I am just myself with the young ladies, but whatever works with them clearly doesn’t with Miss Heriot.”

“What works with them is that oh-so-mysterious self, Jack. And that brooding look, which changes so quickly to a smile.”

“Oh, give over, Val. Truly, I don’t set out to win the young ladies, though I must admit I often enjoy doing so. I suppose that makes me as rakish as they say.” Jack groaned. “I had thought that for a practical woman like Miss Heriot, the direct approach would be best, perhaps even original,” he added with a grin.

“Just because a woman is direct does not mean she doesn’t enjoy a little subtlety, or a little romance. I speak from experience. Anne and Elspeth became friends because they are very much alike in some ways. Elspeth is never afraid of speaking her mind.

“Of course, she gets that from her father,” Val admitted. “And from what I’ve heard, Robert Heriot was as unlike Ian Gordon as any man could be.”

“How so?”

“There couldn’t be a warmer-hearted man than Elspeth’s father. So while he may be blunt, one always knows that he has the best intentions. Robert Heriot, from what I hear, was a much colder man. Anne doesn’t speak much of him. When she does, it is obvious that she holds him in high esteem. But from what Elspeth has told me, there was very little overt affection in Anne’s life. Her mother died when she was very young, you know…” Val was silent for a minute. “I know what that is like. And I know what it is like to have little affection in one’s life. It does not encourage one to show one’s deepest feelings.”

“Not like Windham, who is blessed with that damned open countenance,” grumbled Jack, pointing across the room to Lord Windham and Anne, sitting with their suppers.

“Actually, Elspeth is a little concerned about him. His engagement to Lady Julia Lovett was rumored to be a love match.”

“But he hasn’t danced with her much at all, that I can see.”

“No, he is avoiding her, and Elspeth fears it is not because of indifference, but from lasting affection.”

* * * *

“You two look like you are planning a campaign, or at least a skirmish,” teased Elspeth as she joined them.

“Jack was just telling me that Anne very neatly turned back his frontal assault the other morning.”

“Oh, dear, then my deception of an old friend was wasted?”

“Perhaps I must just admit defeat, Elspeth,” Jack told her with a rueful smile.

Elspeth sighed. “You know, I would advise you to do so, Jack, if I didn’t have some worry about Anne’s other suitors. They are both very nice men and seem to be genuinely fond of Anne, not just the promise of her money, but I am not at all sure that the baron’s daughter will welcome a stepmother after all this time. And Windham…”

“I was just telling Jack about your theory, my dear.”

“If there had been no deep feeling between them, I think they would be more casual about their contact. But from what I have observed, he takes care to avoid her. Dances with her only when it would be impolite not to. I just don’t trust that his heart is free. A marriage of convenience with the possibility of developing an affection for one another is one thing. But I would not wish Anne to marry a man whose heart is given elsewhere.”

‘I am heart-whole,” responded Jack with a mischievous grin.

“Indeed! And there could be another extreme—a man incapable of giving his heart.” Elspeth’s tone was light, but Jack was stung by the obvious concern beneath her words.

“I have not yet met a woman who touched my heart, Elspeth, but I assure you, I do have one.”

“I am sorry,” Elspeth apologized. “I do have a habit of saying what I think.”

“Yes, and I was just telling Jack how much like your father you are,” Val told her with a grin.

“What are you doing for the holidays, Jack?” Elspeth asked suddenly.

“I had planned to spend them with my aunt and cousins, but I have just heard they are invited to Lady Aldborough’s sister’s.”

“We won’t be leaving for Yorkshire, for a few weeks.” Elspeth looked over at her husband, who gave her an approving nod. “Why don’t you join us for Christmas and stay to welcome in the New Year?”

“But this will be your first holiday in your new home,” Jack protested. “Surely you don’t want guests.”

“Charles will be with us. And I intend to invite Anne over.”

Jack looked surprised and then pleased. “So you do not completely disapprove of me, Elspeth?”

“Despite all appearances, I have this irrational feeling that you and Anne would do very well together,” Elspeth told him with an ironic smile.

“Do come, Jack,” urged Val.

“All right, I will. And thank you both for giving me an advantage.”

* * * *

It was an advantage Jack was glad to have, for over the next fortnight, Anne Heriot managed to avoid his company very well. He was able to get only two dances from her, neither of them a waltz, and any time he joined a group that she was part of, she gave him only minimal attention. Lords Windham and Leighton, on the other hand, were constantly at her side. It was hard for Jack to tell if she favored one over the other. He knew Lord Leighton had a good sense of humor, and whenever he saw Anne with him, she was smiling. But the baron was older and losing his hair, Jack would reassure himself, as he ran his hand through his own luxuriant crop.

Windham, on the other hand, was more intense. He and Anne often seemed to be involved in serious conversation. She seemed pleased to be in his company, although he was not as amusing as the baron. On the other hand, he had a full head of hair, and it was guinea gold and curly to boot.

Jack decided to hang back and wait. No matter how appealing either man was, one thing he was sure of—Anne Heriot would make no final decision before the spring.

* * * *

It was true that Anne had no intention of making a choice until she returned for the Season, and when Sarah asked her one morning whether she had discovered a preference, she told her friend that so far she liked both the baron and Windham equally well.

As she went through the daily pile of invitations, she looked over at her companion. “From what I have seen of the weather, I do not think we’ll be able to attend the Spencers’ rout. I think we had best be on the road by next week.”

“I will be happy to be going home,” said Sarah. “I am too old for all this gadding about.”

“You had better rest up during the winter, then, for the spring will be far worse. You don’t really hate it, do you?”

“Not really. Everyone has been most kind to me. Lord Faringdon always makes it a point to ask me for a dance.”

“Do you think there is anything special in his attentions?”

Sarah laughed. “Of course not, Anne. We are just good friends. And the earl of Faringdon is not for the likes of me.”

“You are the granddaughter of a viscount, Sarah.”

“My father was the youngest son. And I have had to make my own living for so many years that I have lost whatever claim I would have had to social position. And to tell you the truth, I don’t think I would be happy as a countess! I have grown too used to our quiet life in Yorkshire.”

Anne sighed. “I had hoped you would find someone.”

“What is more to the point is whether you have. You must have a preference.”

“I am not sure I have a favorite, but Lord Aldborough is last on my list, that I can tell you.”

“I rather favor him,” admitted Sarah with a shamefaced grin.

“The Jack of Hearts?”

“There is something about him, I can’t say what, but I understand why all the mothers are afraid of him.”