Red Jack's Daughter (22 page)

“Miss LaPoire?” he said, sitting up straight and glaring at Jessica. His mouth, she saw, was now rigid.

“Why, yes, your lady,” she began, until she saw the look in his eye.

“How dare you mention her name!” he thundered, leaping to his feet and towering over her.

Jessica stood as well. Although he was enraged enough to cause her to catch her breath, his swift change of mood and his presumption in shouting at her caused her temper to flare. When she was angry with him, she noted fleetingly, she felt much better and on firmer ground.

“How dare you bellow at me!” she cried. “If she exists, I can mention her name. I did not think she was some sort of holy icon.”

“It is not fit that a young woman speak of such females,” he countered.

“And why not?” she shrilled, beside herself at the injustice of it. Her words tumbled out as they formed in her mind. “If you can speak of her, why can’t I?”

“But I did not speak of her, I never would, to a young lady,” he started to say, but she went on, “It is just ridiculous. If she is your mistress—yes, mistress, for I won’t say lady-friend—after all, why can’t I say it if I know it?” she asked, puzzlement beginning to take the edge off her fine fury.

“Proper young females do not discuss a gentleman’s mistress,” he answered, beginning to lose some of his anger as well as he realized how pompous he sounded.

“But I’m not a proper young female,” Jessica said as
though explaining to a child, “and really, if a gentleman
is
notorious for having a famous mistress, he shouldn’t beco
me
savage when she is brought up in conversation.”

To her amazement, the irate gentleman before her beg
an
to smile. Soon he was laughing heartily. When he had done
,
he put both hands upon Jessica’s shoulders and spoke in a reasonable voice, “Jessica, believe me. What you say makes perfe
c
t sense. But also be assured that it is simply not the thin
g
for a young lady to discuss with a gentleman, even if it i
s
true. Which it isn’t,” he added quickly. “Anymore. But yo
u
are not supposed to know of such arrangements, much les
s
mention them. Was it your dear friend Tom who told you?
”
he asked.

“No,” Jessica said, feeling the weight of his large han
d
upon her shoulders. “No, it was my good friend Mari
a
Dunstable, and your aunt too.”

He grimaced. “Ah, well,” he sighed. “I am sorry I shou
ted
at you, but it isn’t something I care to discuss. At any ra
te
Jessica, a gentleman never asks such a woman to his hom
e.
Blast,” he muttered, “I should not even be explaining it you.”

Jessica looked up at the elegant face before her and drew i
n
her breath. It seemed that his hands tightened on her an
d
that he was going to draw her closer. His gray eyes held a co
n
sidering look. She closed her own eyes for a moment, thinki
ng
he was going to embrace her again as he had another ti
me
when he could not explain his point. That thought se
nt
shivers of what she felt were sheer terror through her, and sh
e
wrenched away from him.

“It is not fair,” she said bravely, looking anywhere but into those eyes that could drown her resolve so quickl
y
“that a gentleman may take as many mistresses as he c
an,
but that a lady cannot even mention them. And no,” sh
e
went on, “it is not fair to think that one sort of female c
an
not know about another. We are all females, after all. Woul
d
you shout at her if she mentioned me? But that would be nonsense too.”

He stood and looked at her, and then said quietly, “Jessica, this is not seemly. I’ll leave you now and see you in the morning.”

As he turned to go, she whispered, “But can’t you see? It is ridiculously unfair, is it not?”

And because for the first time he realized that it was, he could not answer. He only bowed and left a sorely troubled young woman gazing after him.

There were many things that Lord Leith had thought to do with his afternoon, many details that he had to clear up before he left the city. One such matter he had thought to take care of in the evening; he now decided, as his long legs took him far from his aunt’s house, he would have to see to it right away. For he was not in the habit of lying, if he could avoid it, to any man or woman.

It was a short walk to the house, and a shorter step into her bedroom. But he felt as though he had come a long way.

“My Lord,” she cried when she saw him, “so early in the day? I am delighted. We shall have hours and hours of joy before us.”

“I’m afraid not, Lucille.” He smiled. “I’m off to the country tomorrow and I’ve only stopped by to bid you adieu.”

“
Au revoir,
surely.” She laughed. She looked very well, he thought as she approached him in her misty-blue dressing gown, with her dark hair in artful disarray. But when she began to wrap her arms about his neck, he stepped back.

“No, no, my dear,” he said, “I speak the truth. I must not tarry today. But I have a little present for you.”

He withdrew the bank check from his pocket and handed it to her. Although she tried to make it seem as though she only glanced at it before she set it on the table, he saw her eyes widen as she saw the figure written upon it.

“But surely there is no need for such generosity,” she said, giving up all attempts at ignoring the sum.

“But there is,” he said, “for it is not only to compensate you for the time I will be gone. There is enough there, I believe, to give you ample leisure to select a new companion.”

She sighed softly. She had known that this moment was coming from the infrequency of his visits of late. She had been sure of it the night he had gone off into riotous laughter when she had drawn back the curtain from the mirror over her bed. Mistress LaPoire had been in her profession long enough
to know that though laughter might be the sweet balm of love, it was a death knell to fascination. But still, it was hard to let him go. There would be others, many others; she did not depend on youth or looks for her continuing career. But she was loath to part from him.

“I suppose,” she said coquettishly, “it is that scarlet-haired young pretty you’ve been escorting around the town. I imagine you decided it’s time to set up a nursery. But really, my Lord, even so, there is no need to completely sever our pleasant association.
”

He cut her off with an upraised palm. “My dear,” he said harshly, “it is not a proper thing for you to mention, is it?” But he did not hear her reply, he was so startled to hear the echoing of his own words in his mind.

“No, quite right,” she said with uncharacteristic spite.
“
Mustn’t acknowledge her existence, must I?
”

But she recovered herself quickly and only said in a placating manner, “Well, then, I thank you, my Lord. Should you care to stay on for a while today?”

“No, no, thank you, Lucille,” he answered brusquely,
bedeviled by his own thoughts and by the strange cold way he could say farewell to someone whom he had shared such intimacies with.

They parted as good business associates should, he; thought, with a handshake so firm that it would have gladdened Miss Eastwood’s heart.

It was only when he was on the pavement again, heading in the direction of his own house, that he thought, with a sensed of wonderment, that Miss Eastwood had been quite correct
.
It was ridiculous. All of it. And he was growing heartily weary of it.

1
3

As Griffin Hall was only a day’s ride from London, Jessica first saw it as glorious sunset wreathed it with rosy light. But it didn’t need that spectacular assist from nature to give it stature. She thought it the most imposing home she had ever seen. It stood upon a grassy rise, huge and white and serene. It looked almost, she thought fancifully as she peered from the coach window, like some sort of hallowed ancient temple. But unworldly though she was, even she could clearly see that this particular ancient temple would have easily housed a hundred Druids without letting the hems of their ceremonial robes touch.

“Of course,” Lady Grantham said as she watched her awestruck young visitor’s face, “it isn’t in the latest mode. It’s been in the family for generations and hasn’t half the flash or mode
rn
conveniences that the great edifice Alex has been about erecting these past years has got. But,” she added comfortably, “we like it.”

Jessica wondered what there was that anyone could not admire about such a place. It was more of an artistic composition than a mere dwelling. Even the sunset seemed no fortuitous accident, but rather part of the original plans for the place. The towering trees appeared to have been carefully set in their places by some giant artist’s hand just so that they could cast the proper shadows upon particular verdant stretches of lawn, and even the several peacocks parading in the park like animated lady’s fans seemed to have been judiciously arranged to lend an extra dash of color to the whole.

This was not a thing like the rustic country home Jessica had envisioned and she wondered that her hostess had thought she might have more freedom and relaxation here. For, she decided as the coach went sedately along the long
and winding gravel drive, Griffin Hall, at first stare, seemed
m
ore intimidating than London itself had been.

The physical part of the journey had been easy enough, but it could not have been said to have been a truly pleasant day. Lady Grantham and Ollie had been their usual selves, but none of the others had been quite natural. Thomas Preston had ridden alone and apart from the others, the only bright thing about him the sunlight glancing off his erect golden g head. Anton had seemed happy to be upon his sleek gray mount, so happy, in fact, that he did not cease chattering all the while, even calling light comments to them each time he rode past their window. And Lord Leith had so busied
himself
with the details of their travels that he had no time or word for any of them. When they had broken their jou
rn
ey at a wayside inn for lunch, the unspoken tensions had put an end to any idea of easy camaraderie.

So it was a much-subdued Miss Eastwood who stepped forth from the carriage with her hostess to be shown to her rooms.

Once Anton and Tom and Sir Selby had gone off with various manservants, Lady Grantham removed her hat and let out a vast sigh of relief as she unceremoniously sank to a divan in a sunset-filled sitting room.

“Lord, Alex,” she puffed, “never again, I vow it. What an uncomfortable
journey
. I chattered like a magpie to dispel the gloom until Ollie was staring at me as though I’d lost my wits. And so I should have, if we had gone a pace farther: Thomas Preston sat mute as a thundercloud brewing upon the horizon, but he couldn’t have gotten a word in edgewise if he had wanted to, for all the babbling Anton was doing. And as for Jessica, she acted as though she were being taken to perdition rather than to Griffin Hall. And you, my dear boy, played least in sight through the entire affair. What has gotten into everyone? If this is the way we mean to go on, I’d as lief pack it in and turn around for town again.
”

“Never fear,” her nephew said, smiling, “I am convinced it was a momentary aberration. Some people show their nervousness by rattling on, as Anton did. He is, after all, in the tenuous position of being a foreign gentleman invited to a virtual stranger’s country home. Some become shy, as undoubtedly Thomas Preston did. Jessica likely felt uneasy
about being taken here so soon after her adventuring in town. And, Aunt, this great mound of yours is a bit staggering at first glance. I’m not sure that any of your guests have ever passed a night in such a place. When I was young, I used to think I was visiting the palace whenever I arrived. I distinctly recall always whispering for the first day, for fear of waking the King.”

“Nonsense,” Lady Grantham said irritably. “You came from just as pleasant a home. And anyway,” she went on hurriedly, suddenly remembering the true condition of her nephew’s childhood home, when his father began to sell off all the family belongings to pay for his eldest son’s indiscretions, “they were behaving oddly even before they clapped an eye on Griffin Hall.”

“I am convinced that all will be well when they grow accustomed to their surroundings,” her nephew said calmly, as though the problem had already left his mind.

Lady Grantham noted his boredom and said with some acidity, “Well, they never shall if you don’t come out of the clouds. You scarcely had a word for anyone all day. Joseph knew the road as well as his own palm, there was no need for you to hover about him constantly. And as there are no brigands about in broad daylight, I cannot see why you rode guard as though we were carrying the Crown Jewels in the baggage.”

“I shall mend my manners straightaway,” Lord Leith replied, but with such patent disinterest that his aunt literally threw up her hands in disgust.

The tall gentleman chuckled at that and then went up to his rooms to arrange things, as he said, and to dress for dinner. But, he thought even as he left her, the things most in need of ordering were his thoughts. He had deliberately not spoken a great deal while they were in transit. It was not as though he were so simpleminded that he could not ride and speak at the same time, he told himself with a self-deprecating grin as he rested his hands upon his window’s sill and gazed down at the tranquil approaching evening. It was that he had grown into the habit of thinking a thing through before he took any action. That was a lesson he had learned in a hard school during those years abroad.

He had undertaken the task of educating Ollie’s
protégée
into the art of acceptable feminine behavior at first out of a sense of obligation and then because the entire effort amused him greatly. But as is so often the case when one immerse
s
oneself in a task completely, amusement soon gave way to real interest. Miss Eastwood was the most uncommon female he had ever encountered, but he recalled with a frown, he had realized that from the first.

As he had gotten to know her, he had come to admire those very things that made her so unfeminine: her lack of
vanity, her courage, her forthrightness, and her gallantry. She might have made a fine young fellow, but he had the uneasy feeling that she might make a finer woman someday because of those very attributes that he was supposed to discourage.

Damn, he thought in annoyance, I like the baggage just as she is. But it was clear to him that she was in the process of changing even as he thought of her. What he had set in motion was gaining a momentum of its own. The fine clothes
he ordered did not make her preen like one of those strutting peacocks, he watched it only made her delightfully aware of her own attractions. The attentions he made sure she received in London had not turned her head, but only helped her make the sad discovery that most people judged mostly by appearances.

The two gentlemen who now hovered about her were ingredients of her education, but he had not requested their services and he could not yet fathom their impact upon her. Thomas Preston was at least open about his intentions. He wanted her for her forthcoming fortune. And that, the tall gentleman decided, his face growing still, he would never permit. Surely she deserved better. Anton, that delightfully amusing, facile fellow, seemed to want no more than to clasp her to the bosom of her long-lost family. But he had seen a considering look in Anton’s eyes at odd moments, and he wondered if that was the only bosom Anton wished to clasp her to.

These thoughts still nagged at him as he turned to summon his valet to help him change for dinner, for he decided that he had dwelt upon the subject long enough. He was not after all, her father.