Lady Jane (14 page)

And circumstances were bound to become even more extraordinary, for Lady Stanier had determined that she would not go away and leave this child here, prey to depression and loneliness and Angela Gilbert She would take her away with her to London, where, inevitably, she would come to the attention of Society, and a victim to its voracious appetite for gossip. Lady Stanier silently thanked the Lord for Sebastian’s adamant refusal to have an announcement of the marriage sent to the papers. If Lady Stanier could slip very quietly into London with the new Lady Payton, allow the news to be disseminated to a select few, spread, and become an accepted fact before the child need face anyone, for actually nothing was demanded or even expected of her while she was in mourning, then she might be able to accomplish her acceptance without too outrageous an uproar. She and the old Lady Payton had settled it between them at the time of the marriage that they would let it be known, where they felt it necessary, that Miss Coombes was a young country girl of good family fallen on hard times and to deflect any further inquiries with enthusiastic descriptions of Jane’s beauty and sweetness. It had worked, for the greater part, at the time.

Now, however, circumstances made the position even more difficult. For here was an excessively young widow, whose inheritance would draw every fortune hunter in England and whose beauty would have half the beaux of the
ton
dangling at her shoestrings. However, Lady Stanier turned decisively to Jane.

“My dear, I have been thinking of what to do, and I think, you know, that now, before the roads become impassable, you and the child had best come back to London with me.”

Jane stared uncomprehendingly at her for a moment before the full import of the words reached her brain, and then her whole face expressed shocked protest But before she could utter it, Lady Stanier held up a hand to halt her.

“Wait! I know what you are going to say: the baby is too young for such a journey, that you prefer to stay here because you feel safer here, that—oh—everything you are preparing to say to me. But let me tell you
my
reasons first. I cannot stay with you. I have obligations in London, and I cannot feel right about leaving you here—especially now when you are bound to feel especially alone and unhappy. And as for the journey—pooh, I make nothing of that. I daresay we would all be as comfortable in my carriage as we are here by this fireside, and certainly the child could take no harm.”

Jane pictured Lady Stanier’s elegant, well-sprung, extraordinarily warm and luxurious travelling coach and smiled faintly in acknowledgment of the truth of her statement. It was indeed possible to imagine a journey of any length in the coach equipped with braziers of hot coals, voluptuously soft, velvet-covered squabs, and a capacious food basket stowed under the seat “Dear Aunt Stanier, I’m sure all you say is true,” she answered with a fond smile, “however, I could not take Clinton away from his home. He should grow up here, knowing it and feeling its influence. He—”

“Nonsense! Until the child is at least a year old the only influence he will respond to is yours and Nurse Watkyns, and if you are depressed and unhappy
he
will feel it. Besides, I’m not speaking of taking him away forever. Naturally, you will come back when the weather improves and it is possible to take advantage of the outdoors. I’m speaking of these long dreary winter months ahead when you stand in need of your family about you—I speak of myself—as well as being occasionally in company—”

“Company? Oh no, I could not face—Society!”

“Who speaks of Society? I am referring to taking a cup of tea with an old friend or two of my own from time to time, or attending a musical evening. Naturally I do not intend anything more myself while we are in mourning. As for not ‘facing’ people, I will not allow you to bury yourself down here forever. My sister had no choice. She felt she owed it to her son to remain here if he insisted upon doing so, just as you owe it to your son to do whatever is necessary to give him a healthy, happy childhood. And I don’t believe staying here alone is conducive to either of those qualities.”

“But—but—the servants—I—”

“I’ve thought of that. We would take Nurse with us, of course, leaving the rest here, since you will be staying with me. It would be foolish to open up Payton House for just a few months. However, next year you should come up early and open it for the Season and bring Mr. and Mrs. Crews with you, and Dorrie, of course. I’m sure Mrs. McKirk will be wanting to retire by then, and I doubt she’d ever go to London in any case.”

“Payton House?”

“The Payton town house. Surely Sebastian mentioned it to you.”

“We—never talked of such things—his possessions or money—and I never thought to ask. There were so many things to talk about always that I suppose we never thought of it. Of course I am not so hen-witted as not to know that there is a great deal of money left to Clinton, and Lady Payton told me just before she died that I need not ever worry about anything again, because they had seen to it that I needn’t—but I wouldn’t let her go on, she could hardly speak anyway and I couldn’t bear to let her waste—well—” she dashed a hand childishly across her swimming eyes, “anyway, about Payton House. I think I will go there,” Jane said decidedly.

“But my dear child! It will not be suitable now. All the furniture in Holland covers, no staff—”

“Well, I will come to you for a few weeks while Fred and Betty Crews close up this place and come up to prepare it and hire some more servants. I don’t like to go away and leave them here for months. They have all been so good to me, and I think we should all stay together.”

If Lady Stanier had been prepared to expound upon the unnecessary trouble and expense such a plan would entail, she forgot it quickly at the firmness of this last declaration. Besides, she thought, refurbishing the house would distract Jane’s mind from her grief and prevent the possibility of her becoming an unhealthily doting, overprotective mother, and Heaven knew the expense need not be a concern.

So it was settled between them that in a week’s time they would travel, by easy stages, to London with little Clinton and Nurse Watkyn, to be followed a week after that by Mr. and Mrs. Crews and Dorrie, who was to come to Lady Stanier’s to be trained as a proper abigail by Ames. They would make the journey in the Payton travelling chaise, which would then be available for Jane’s use in the city. Mrs. McKirk, if she chose not to accompany them, would be given her very generous pension, plus what she had been left by the late Lady Payton in her will, and conveyed to her sister’s house in Dorset in one of the smaller carriages.

It wasn’t until Lady Stanier was in her bed that night that she began to wonder, enviously, what Jane and Sebastian had found to talk about so endlessly. Lord knows Percy had been an exemplary husband, and Lady Stanier had truly loved him and grieved dreadfully when he was taken from her, but she was forced to acknowledge that interesting conversation had
not
been his long suit
.

14

As
Jane and
Lady Stanier mounted the curving, shallow staircase to Mrs. Medvers-Platt’s drawing room, Jane’s knees were trembling so badly she had some serious doubts about ever reaching to the top. This was her first venture into Society in the three years since Sebastian’s death, in spite of Lady Stanier’s repeated efforts to persuade her otherwise. True, she had been present in Lady Stanier’s drawing room on several occasions when visitors had been announced, and had received Lady Stanier and various lady friends of hers at Payton House, but she had remained adamant about going out in the evenings long after the year of mourning had been observed. Lady Stanier had remarked, rather pithily, that such an attitude was “quite gothick” and she was sure Sebastian would have agreed with her, but Jane had only smiled and changed the subject. Not only had she no inclination for entertainment, she had not yet weaned the baby and became very uncomfortable when his mealtime approached and she was not near to relieve both him and herself. More important, she had not yet acquired the courage to do it.

She had seen the curiosity and speculation in the eyes of Lady Stanier’s friends, hovering behind the kindliness and courtesy with which they had treated her, and polite inquiries such as “—would you be related to the Coombes in Yorkshire?” had reduced her to such a blind panic that she could only gape dumbly at her inquisitor and wait to be rescued by Lady Stanier.

She had, however, enjoyed refurbishing Payton House. At first she had been loath to allow anything at all to be changed, content to oversee the cleaning, waxing, and polishing, a prodigious enough task in itself. Lady Stanier had managed to convince her, however, that the draperies in the drawing room would fall apart if any attempt were made to clean them, since they had been hanging there when the former Lady Payton was a bride, and Jane had reluctantly agreed to accompany her to a silk warehouse in search of suitable fabric for replacements. After that the sad condition of the upholstery on several of the dining room chairs was pointed out, and one thing led to another until Jane was caught up in a swirl of redecoration. She steadfastly refused, however, to replace any of the furnishings themselves, saying she wanted the house to retain the character given it by all the Lady Paytons of the past, and that she much preferred its style to the present mode for console tables with crocodile feet and lamps shaped like lilies.

She had gone down to Kent that first spring and introduced her son to the glories of the Kentish countryside foaming with lilacs and roses. It was not so heart-wrenching as she had dreaded it would be, though the first days had been difficult But when the days had lengthened to long, sun-drenched hours, drowsy with the hum of bees plundering hedges tangled with wild Canterbury bells and thrifts and meadowsweets, the ache of loss gradually eased and the happier memories revived. Each year after that it was to become easier as the past released its hold and the present grew more interesting.

She had finally relented and agreed to attend Mrs. Medver
s
-Platt’s musical evening. Mrs. Medvers-Platt was Lady Stanier’s bosom-bow from girlhood and had been especially pressing in her invitations to Jane. Having been in the habit of spending her winters away on the Continent when Jane was in residence at Payton House, she was exceedingly eager to meet this young woman who had married Sebastian.

“For say what you will, Shafto,” she had confided to her husband in the privacy of her boudoir, “the boy was deformed. Why he never grew to be more than sixty inches tall if that!” Shafto, who had not said anything in the first place, made only his usual noncommittal grunt to this statement, but Mrs. Medvers-Platt took this as encouragement to proceed, as she had learned to do after twenty-five years of marriage to a man who rarely communicated anything not directly bearing on his own comfort. “You may mark my words on it that there is something wrong with the girl. Probably a knock-in-the-cradle whose parents were unable to make any other match for her!”

The girl who appeared beside Lady Stanier at the top of the stairs, however, was obviously in perfect command of her intellect and so beautiful it quite took Mrs. Medvers-Platt’s breath away. She noted indulgently that her husband had come to life and was pulling in his stomach and brushing his mustaches back in anticipation.

Jane wore a smoke-gray satin tunic trimmed in silver-embroidered acorns and leaves over a deeper gray underskirt. Her black curls had been brushed high on the back of her head and she wore a tiara of diamonds and silver leaves mounted on thin silver wires so that they trembled and glittered with each movement of her head in a most enchanting way. It had been Sebastian’s gift to her on their marriage. The gray was her concession to Lady Stanier’s insistence that she put aside her mourning clothes. “A year would have been quite enough. Besides it doesn’t become you and you are much too young to go about in such lugubrious garments for so long.” Jane had felt conspicuous, almost naked, without the protection of her black and brown gowns at first, but the knowledge that one has never been in better looks had succeeded in alleviating that discomfort tonight The high colour in her cheeks and lips was set off by the perfection of the soft, cloudy gray, and her eyes were sparkling with excitement to be among people in spite of her nerves.

Mrs. Medvers-Platt sailed forward to envelop Lady Stanier in a warm embrace and then turned to Jane. She was a large, stout lady with so imposing a manner that Jane was overcome with shyness, which charmed Mrs. Medvers-Platt so much she embraced Jane also before turning to present her to an eager Mr. Medvers-Platt, who clearly looked upon pretty girls as one of the creature comforts provided by a benevolent deity. He took her hand possessively in both his own and seemed disinclined to let it go, all the while complimenting her in a heavy-handed way and being enormously gratified by her blushes. Finally he pulled her hand through his arm proprietarily and bore her away without a word to the two older ladies. Mrs. Medvers-Platt turned to her friend with an apologetic smile.

“There, my dear, you will forgive Shafto for his rudeness, I know. He is so cast into the glooms by my parties until some pretty creature comes in for him to flirt with. It is just his habit, you know, he means nothing by it and would never take advantage of a young, inexperienced girl.” Mrs. Medvers-Platt spoke with great earnestness, eyeing Lady Stanier anxiously. Lady Stanier’s eyes were twinkling, but she replied soberly that she trusted dear Shafto completely.

After the first few uncomfortable moments, Jane realized that she also could trust Mr. Medvers-Platt and relaxed, actually enjoying having a flirt, even an elderly one, since it allowed her to be less self-conscious among all these strangers. Her beau led her from group to group, introducing her, flattering her, and teasing her all at the same time until she quite lost her earlier apprehensions and began to look upon this mostly middle-aged gathering as benign and well-meaning.

It was, therefore, even more of a shock when she turned laughingly away from an ancient lady with a hearing trumpet who insisted, despite Jane’s protestations, that she had been acquainted with Jane’s mother, to come face-to-face with Lady Montmorency and her daughter, Lady Sarah!

Every nerve end in Jane’s body leaped up jangling with alarm and for a moment she was so paralyzed she couldn’t close her mouth, which had fallen open in shock. Then she felt her face grow warm and knew she was blushing furiously while Lady Montmorency stared with an icy indifference.

Mr. Medvers-Platt, in serene unawareness, pulled her forward and begged Lady Montmorency to allow him to present Lady Jane Payton to her. Jane managed a curtsy, though fully aware that had she not been holding Mr. Medvers-Platt’s arm she could never have accomplished it without falling on her face.

Lady Montmorency acknowledged the introduction with a stiff little nod of her head that committed her to nothing. It was not her habit to accept anyone on faith. She was a stately, intimidating woman, with traces of Lady Sarah’s beauty still discernible in her face. She was gowned in a purple-bloom satin and wore a turban of the same fabric, an astonishing concoction of gold fringe, pearls, and feathers, which added to her regal stature. She turned to present her daughter, who curtsied in her turn. Though Jane had been thoroughly grounded in social etiquette by the Dowager Lady Payton and was well aware that as a married lady of title she took precedence over Lady Sarah, it was still an astonishing sensation to have the haughty Lady Sarah dipping her knee to Jane Coombes! No, she reminded herself sharply,
not
to Jane Coombes, but to Lady Payton, mother of Lord Payton of Larkwoods, Seventh Baron Larkley, and as his representative she owed it to him to conduct herself befittingly. She raised her chin, said how do you do with a gracious smile and submitted without a flicker of an eyelid to Lady Sarah’s raking scrutiny, which seemed to count the very silver-embroidered acorns on Jane’s gown before it came to rest on her face. Jane, still smiling, raised one eyebrow ever so slightly, and Lady Sarah’s glance flicked away. This small triumph enabled Jane to carry on a brief conversation quite creditably until Mr. Medvers-Platt tugged her away impatiently to meet an old crony of his in an astonishing blue brocade evening suit fashionable fifty years ago, complete with white powdered wig, a tiny black patch next to his mouth, and rouge filling out the cracks in his cheeks. He made her a most profound and elaborate bow involving a complicated flourishing of his scented, lace-edged handkerchief.

Though Jane smiled sweetly upon him and replied satisfactorily to his conversation, her mind was in a ferment, for it had just occurred to her to wonder if Lord Jaspar accompanied his mother and sister this evening! That Lady Montmorency had not recognized her was to be expected, for Jane doubted if the woman had even known Jane was in her employ, so far beneath her notice was a little backstairs maid. Nor was it surprising that Lady Sarah had failed to do so, for Jane was well aware of that young woman’s preoccupation with herself to the exclusion of all else except for her effect on the male sex and whether another lady’s gown was more beautiful than her own. But Lord Jaspar was another matter altogether. They had only met once, but he had taken a very good look (she felt her cheeks redden as she remembered) and could not be counted on to have forgotten her, though their encounter
had
taken place more than five years ago.

She swept an anxious glance about the room but did not see him, which perversely provided her with only a fleeting moment of relief followed swiftly by an even stronger feeling of disappointment which bewildered her. There was no time, however, to examine this unusual feeling, for the guests were all being requested to take their seats in the music room for the entertainment, and she found Lady Stanier at her side firmly leading her away over Mr. Medvers-Platt’s protestations.

“I thought you wouldn’t mind being rescued, my love. Shafto is the best-hearted creature in the world but a shade overwhelming, I sometimes find. Did you meet any interesting people? I vow, Fanny has managed to assemble as dull a crowd as I’ve seen anytime these past ten years. I wonder where she dug up that funny old court card, Alben Quint? I didn’t know he even went into company anymore. Probably got wind that Fanny was entertaining a rich widow. He’s been hanging out for a fortune since he first came up to London sixty years ago!”

Jane giggled and told her that she had found Mr. Quint enchanting and agreed that he might come to pay her a morning visit. Then, still somewhat hipped at her ability to carry off the meeting with the Montmorencys, she told Lady Stanier of it in a lighthearted way.

“No! Don’t tell me they are here! Not, of course, that we need worry about their recognizing you. I doubt either of them could adequately describe her own dresser. Oh—yes, I see them now.” She and Lady Montmorency saw each other at the same moment and exchanged stiff nods and tight little smirks that did duty for smiles between two women in a social situation who detest each other. “Now what can Fanny mean by inviting her here when she knows I can’t abide the woman! A colder creature I hope it is never my misfortune to meet, and so puffed up with her own conceit she can hardly bring herself to speak to anyone whose consequence is not so great as she thinks her own to be!”

This heated diatribe was most unusual for Lady Stanier, ordinarily the most sweet natured of women, but her natural dislike of people who behaved as did Lady Montmorency combined with her knowledge of that lady’s treatment of Jane had hardened into active antipathy.

“Perhaps it was foolish—coming here, I mean. Somehow it never occurred to me that there was the possibility I might meet them.”

“Pooh, nonsense! I do not, in the ordinary way, ever come up with the Montmorencys. We frequent quite different circles, I assure you. Lady Montmorency enjoys dancing attendance on royalty and Lady Sarah the gaming tables, neither of which hold any interest for me. Not that it is of any consequence, for I should like to know why you may not go about as much as you please and simply ignore them, as I always have done when our paths happened to cross.”

Jane could not think of any effective argument to make to this suggestion that would not reveal her real fear concerning Lord Jaspar, for of course, though she had confided in Lady Stanier her responsibility in the situation that had led to her summary dismissal from the Montmorency household, she had not mentioned the part played by Lord Jaspar to anyone, not even Sebastian, she remembered suddenly.

She thought about this wonderingly. Now why had she withheld that incident from dear Sebastian who had heard and understood everything else she had told him about her life, including her envy of Lady Sarah and the impulse to disrobe and put on the negligee, and the horrible scenes with Leach that had created her fear of men, a fear Sebastian had dealt with so masterfully that she never ceased to wonder that two acts so basically similar, could be accomplished with such different results as those she had experienced with Leach and Sebastian.