Red Jack's Daughter (24 page)

Good heavens, thought Lady Grantham, so shocked by what she alone had seen that she did not even join in the applause at the end of the rendition. This shall not be a restful vacation, after all.

1
4

Although midsummer’s eve had passed, the skies remai
n
light until after ten in
the
night. Yet there still did not seem to be enough hours in each day that Jessica spent at Griffin Hall. Bright mornings passed as if in a moment with riding; afternoons fled as lawn games were played, or picnics
enjoyed, or excursions were joyfully taken. Dinners did not end the day as they had at home, rather they signaled the beginning of long laughter-filled hours of light gaming,
music, and conversation. Even inclement weather did not still the jocund company. By the time Jessica prepared for bed each night, she was too worn out with merriment to lie awake a moment to ponder her new circumstances or the changes they had wrought upon her.

Anton had become a dear and delightful playmate. He had an almost childlike capacity for enjoyment and never allowed her a moment’s seriousness when he was in her vicinity. Thomas was an amiable companion, becoming solemn and silent only when he waited for a fish to follow his lure or was deciding upon which card he should next play. Lord Leith was a relaxed and entertaining comrade. He kept Jessica roundly amused with his droll commentary and impressed her with his unexpected prowess at sports she would have thought he had left behind in boyhood. Lady Grantham was the best of hostesses, and she and Sir Selby pleased themselves by watching their younger guests at play. The countryside seemed to have worked a faerie magic upon them all, and Jessica sometime laughed in the rare moments when she was alone at how she could have ever seen Griffin Hall as forbidding or formal.

This day the elder pair were seated on the lawn in the dappled shade of a spreading beech, watching their four junior guests playing at lawn bowls. Sir Selby was guffawing at Anton’s antics as he pretended to find himself incapable of getting up from the grass where he had been awaiting his turn. But there was not the faintest hint of amusement upon his companion’s thoughtful face.

“There’s a storm brewing,” Lady Grantham finally intoned as Sir Selby wiped his eyes and chuckled.

“Nonsense,” Sir Selby replied, quickly scanning the azure sky. “It’s a bit warm, but there’s not a cloud above us. It’s the fairest day we’ve had yet.”

“Not that sort of storm, Ollie,” Lady Grantham said pensively as she watched Thomas Preston’s set face as he in turn watched Jessica weak with laughter at Anton’s clowning.

“Don’t speak in riddles, my dear,” Sir Selby said irritably. “You know how I like plain speaking.” He turned from his observations to look at her. “Why, you’re not jesting! What’s troubling you, my dear? You’ve got the grimmest look about you. Has anything happened?”

“Not yet,” Lady Grantham said cryptically. Then, noting her companion’s confusion, she bent forward and sighed. “Ollie, leave off laughing for a moment and really watch that lot out there.”

Sir Selby did as he was bade to do. He saw Thomas Preston take up his position in the game; saw Anton confide something to Jessica, who threw back her head in an arch flirtatious gesture as she laughed; and saw Alex, his jacket thrown off and in his shirtsleeves, watching Anton and Jessica with alert, evident interest.

“I’ve seen them,” Sir Selby said in bewilderment, “and they seem merry as grigs. What are you going on about?”

Lady Grantham saw Jessica called up to her mark by Tom, his turn done, and saw her straighten her back and march to his side, all traces of coquetry gone. She saw the flaxen and the fiery heads bent close together for an instant, and she noticed the beginnings of a frown upon her nephew’s face, which vanished the moment Anton recalled him to his surroundings with a jest. She sighed again, so heavily that Sir Selby frowned as well.

“Never mind, Ollie, but mark me well, this cannot last.”

“I suppose not,” he said. “It’s been uncommonly good weather and we’re due for a good dousing. But it’s nothing to take on so about,” he complained. And then, shrugging at
the inscrutability of all women, even his boon companion, he a turned with pleasure to watch the game go forth again. When they had done with the game, Lady Grantham accepted Sir Selby’s arm as they strolled back to the Hall to rest before preparing for dinner, for the hour had grown late. Anton, noting his elders leaving, made his bows, picked up his jacket from the grass where he had thrown it, and after a parting jest, hurried along so that he could have ample time to prepare himself for the evening as well. None of his fellow game players were surprised, for it was well-known by now
that Anton prized his correct appearance above all else in life. Although they had dined together every evening for a fortnight, no one could recall seeing the fellow with a hair out of place once or with a similar getup twice, they often joked. Although Lord Leith offered to escort Jessica back to the house, as he often did, she hesitated, for Thomas seemed to be searching for something in the grass.

“I’ll wait for Tom,” she explained brightly as she did not take his proffered arm.

He shrugged, smiled down at her, and whispered, “Probably searching for his aim. I never saw him so off his game before. Even you beat him to flinders this time, Jessica.”

“Even I?” Jessica said haughtily, then grinned. “You’re right, I fair routed him, didn’t I?”

As he stood and watched her, with a bemused smile upon his lips, she said conspiratorially, “I’ll help him look for whatever it is he’s lost, and gloat a little over my victory as well. Just a little,” she added with a mischievous smile.

Lord Leith seemed to shake himself from reverie, and then muttering, “Wretch,” he left her laughing again as he went back to the house. His long legs had taken him far up the lawn when she turned and went back toward Tom.

“Whatever have you misplaced, Tom?” she asked merrily
.
“Alex is of the opinion that it’s your mastery of the game.”

She waited for an easy reply and was shocked when he turned a deadly serious face to her and answered bluntly, “No, it something far more valuable than that.”

She dropped to her knees by his side at once and said in alarm, her eyes searching the even green turf, “What is it? May I help? Where did you last see it?”

He rose to his feet, helping her up with him in one fluid movement. His gaze was stem as he said softly, “I last saw it in Yorkshire, Jess, and I fear it is irrevocably gone. But yes, perhaps you can help me find it again.”

Her eyes were wide with startled confusion as he took her arm and led her to the chairs that Lady Grantham and Sir Selby had just vacated. She sank to a seat, watching his forbidding visage. There was no trace of jest in his cool blue eyes, and every line in his hard young face was set and pronounced.

“Jess, Jess,” he breathed, shaking his head slightly, “how can I put it? I only stayed behind so that I might have a private talk with you. I haven’t had the chance to speak with you apart from the others since the day I set foot in this great cavern of a pl
a
ce. There is always someone at your side. But I have stayed and watched and listened, and I cannot stay still a moment more.
”

“What is it, Tom?” she whispered, though there was not a soul in sight and only the slight rush of wind through the trees to compete with the sound of their voices.

He took one of her hands in his. And this was unusual, for while Anton was forever holding her hand, Tom had never so much as touched her since they had met again in London. His hand, she noted irrelevantly, was not plump and warm as Anton’s always was, rather it was cool and hard. But it held her tightly as he spoke, his eyes never wavering.

“Jess, can you not see? Do you not know? I came to London and found you transformed. But it was a good change, for you seemed to at last have grown up. You were lovely, Jess, truly lovely, and as I said then, your father would have been proud of you.”

“But what has changed, Tom?” Jessica asked. “I’ve bought no new frocks since then,” she said thoughtfully. “What is the problem?”

“Can you not see what you have become?” he cried in agitation as she drew back at the vehemence in his tone. “Batting your lashes, simpering, tossing your hair about, posturing. Good Lord, Jess, you are become like some music-hall caricature of a giddy female. I grieve to see the alteration in you. You used to remind me so much of Red Jack, you were so straight and true. Now
...
” He made a gesture of despair.

Jessica gaped at him. Then she drew herself up, snatched her hand from his, and spat, “Where? When have you ever seen me act so? Have I ever simpered at you, Tom, or fluttered my lashes? You’re speaking nonsense, my good fellow.”

“Oh, no,” he said dourly, “never to me. To me you are just as you always were. But you are a chameleon, Jess, for when you are with Anton, you are transformed.”

Jessica sat with an arrested look upon her face. It was true, she thought suddenly, that association with Anton had altered her in some way. But then, he was always encouraging her to smile, to flirt, to laugh, as her mother had supposedly done. And when she behaved so, it sent him into transports of delight. It pleased her to please him, he took such an eager delight in the memories she brought back to him. But now the innocent imposture that she had done for her cousin seemed somehow shameful. So she said angrily,

“
And where is the harm in a jest, Tom? I have not changed at all, and if I occasionally behave a bit differently, where is the fault?”

“Jess, Jess,” Tom said mournfully, “where would be the harm if I suddenly began to behave like a coxcomb, or to preen like a peacock to delight some young female? None, I suppose, but if I were to do so, or to languish and pen poetry , and try to do the pretty like some fop, would you not have a concern for me?”

“I’d think you’d lost your wits,” Jessica confessed. “Oh, Tom, have I made such a fool of myself, then?” she gasped, rising and wringing her hands in consternation. She envisioned herself as having behaved like a strumpet, a bawd, and was deeply ashamed and frightened.

He rose and drew her up with him. He clasped her close to himself, holding her securely and perfectly still. She felt his smooth lean cheek against hers and the long tight length of him against her body. Then his lips strayed to her forehead and
he whispered, “Never a fool, Jess. But I have a deep care for you and only worried that I had lost my little Jess altogether.”

“I am still myself,” she half-said, half-thought.

But then, as they stood so closely enwrapped, she began to realize that he was not, after all, so cool and contained. She could feel the subtle warmth of his person and became slowly aware that his hand had commenced a slow stroking motion upon her back. She dared not turn and look into those knowing clear light eyes. Instead, she pulled away and turned away from him.

“I shall endeavor to remember what you have said, Tom,” she said in a low voice, keeping her head downcast.

He made no move to hold her again, but only said, “I mean it for the best, Jess. You know that. You have no truer friend than I.”

Now at last, she could look at him. He stood, hands at his sides, tense and awaiting her answer. She forced a smile. “I know it, Tom,” was all that she could say as she began to walk toward the Hall.

When she left him to speedily achieve the privacy of her own rooms, she wore an abstracted, distressed expression. But her blond companion wore a very satisfied smile as he watched her door close behind her.

Anton made every effort to cheer his cousin that night at dinner. He did such amusing things that Sir Selby almost overset his soup. His jokes wrung a wry smile from Lord Leith and even drew a grin from Tom. But Jessica sat and picked at her food, and when rallied for being such a dour puss by her hostess, she pasted such a patently artificial smile upon her lips as to distress everyone at the long table.

“I suspect,” Anton said owlishly as the gentlemen sat alone and sipped at their port, “that it is a difficult time of the month for my dear cousin.
”

The sudden shocked silence that followed his artless comment caused Anton to look up in surprise.

“This is not a correct thing to say?” he asked guilelessly.

“Not very,” drawled Lord Leith with the hint of a smile.

“Most peculiar,” Anton mused, “for we understand such things about the ladies at home.”

“We understand such things about females, yes,” the gentleman replied languidly, “but we do not discuss such things about ladies.”

“Most peculiar,” Anton sighed. “You will explain this to me, yes?”

Sir Selby rose and began to quickly speak about it being time to join the ladies.

“Later, yes.” Lord Leith smiled, noting how the dar
k
young man’s precise English always faltered when he thought he had made a faux pas.

“But that is most likely just the problem,” Anton insisted as they left the room and Sir Selby began to babble about what a lovely night it was.

Whatever the problem, Jessica made poor work of the rest
of the evening. Anton could have stood upon his head during charades for all the response he could elicit from her. Thomas Preston kept looking at Jessica in a concerned fashion. Lady Grantham watched her young guest with growing discomfort. And when the time came for a song, Jessica rose and sang laments about lost lovers, abused orphans, and drowned sailors until Sir Selby had to search f
o
r a new handkerchief to wipe his eyes with. Lord Leith resolved to have a talk with the forlo
rn
Jessica before the night was out.

And so it was that when everyone had bade each other an early good-night, the tall gentleman took up a position in a shadowy recess by the grand staircase. He saw his aunt and Sir Selby take the stairs in deep converse. He frowned to see Tom Preston, once he thought he was out of sight, lose his caring expression and skip up the long stairs like a boy. And his own face grew grimmer when time passed and he did not see either Jessica or her animated cousin appear on the steps.

Jessica had risen to leave with the rest, but Anton’s omnipresent hand upon her wrist had restrained her. When everyone else had left the room, he nodded in satisfaction and confronted her alone.

“Now,” Anton said with determination, “what is this, Jessica? Hmmm? Suddenly you are a weeping willow, yes? What has happened? I tell my best stories and I cannot get even a little smile from you, so there must be a thing I do not know about.”

He held her fast, and she could see from the determined look in his dark eyes that he did not mean to let her go until he had an explanation.

“Oh, Anton,” she said at length, “it is really a very silly thing, and difficult to tell.”

“So,” he said adamantly, “it is not difficult to listen. I am your family and you must tell me.”

“It’s very foolish,
really,” she prevaricated, but then she said in a rush, “It is only that I have been told, for my own good, of course, that I have appeared to be very giddy, very blatant in my recent actions.”

At the look of incomprehension writ large upon his dark face, she went on desperately, “I’ve been told I’ve been carrying on like a trollop, with all the giggling and flirting I’ve been doing.”

Anton’s expression cleared. “I see;” he said at once. “This must be a very English thing. But I assure you, Jessica, you have been behaving perfectly. Who was it, the icy Lord Leith, who told you this? Or the silent Mr. Preston? It makes no matter. I tell you, Jessica, you have been behaving like a lady, and a charming one. Just like your mama.”

When Jessica averted her head at his words, Anton seemed to grow angry. He stationed himself in front of her. “You cannot help but be like her, Cousin,” he said angrily. “With all that they try to make you otherwise, it is in your blood. You are your mother’s daughter. And where is the harm in a little gaiety? Must all of life be so
...
English?” he protested.

She laughed at that, and he reached out and took her by the shoulders. As they were of a height, she could see directly into his sincere, deep dark eyes.

“Better,” he whispered, “better still. You are very special to me, Jessica, just as you are.”

There seemed to be a certain heat in his eyes that she had not seen before. She stepped away and laughed again, with the little toss of her head that he so admired.

“You are good medicine for me, Anton. But now you must leave me and go to your rooms, or else all the English will think we are up to no good.”

“Ah, would that were so,” he sighed with a mock despair that made her laugh again. But he left her. And her laughter ceased the moment he did. She stood in thought for a long while until she heard a light tap upon the door. Looking up, she saw the long figure of Lord Leith as he stood in the shadows of the room.

“Is it so bad, then?” he asked softly.

When she did not answer at once, he walked up to her and tilted her head up with one long finger. When she gazed back at him with an abstracted stare, he smoothed back a strand of her flaming hair and said quietly, “I give excellent advice, you know.”

“I know,” she answered distractedly, “but I’ve had too much advice already. It seems some people advise me to be light and gay, and others to be what I was before. Only I can’t recall what that precisely was. Oh, I’m not making any sense,” she concluded, shaking her head in despair.

“Oh, but you are,” he answered. “And I think the answer is to be whatever you want to be, and damn to what others want.”

“But what it that?” she whispered. And then, although he had taken no step nearer to her, nor touched her again, she looked up at him and realized that they were alone and very close in an otherwise-empty room.

“Good night, my Lord,” she said suddenly, and took to her heels as though he had menaced her.

He stood alone after she had gone and then muttered a curse that would have brought the house down about his ears if there had been anyone to hear it.

Jessica would have spent the morning abed, brooding over the new single cloud upon her heretofore spotless horizon, if it were not for Amy treading heavily into her room and drawing the curtains back vigorously. The little maid bustled about the room, bumping into furniture and rattling her tray of chocolate and cups with gusto until Jessica could no longer pretend sleep. The moment she opened her eyes, Amy sniffed with satisfaction.

“Oh, miss,” she said at once, “there’s such news! Your solicitor has come. Only think, he’s all dust-covered. He rode straight from the docks, he says. And he’s got your treasure, he says. Every bit of it!”

It was lucky that Amy was in the room with her, or Jessica would have flown down the stairs in a night shift. As it was, she could barely contain herself long enough for the maid to do up her buttons and brush out her hair. Though it seemed like hours, it was only moments before Jessica was able to throw open her door and hurry downstairs. And it took every bit of fiber she possessed to slow her steps and calm herself before entering the sitting room, where she heard excited voices talking together.

Jessica’s eyes widened when she entered. For though it was still an early hour, all of the guests were assembled in the room, and even Lady Grantham, who seldom stirred before noon, was sitting awaiting her. But Jessica had eyes only for Mr. Jeffers and the square black case he had upon his lap.

“My dear,” Mr. Jeffers said happily, rising to greet her and leaving the box upon a chair, “you look wonderfully. And I have wonderful news. I have located Corporal MacKenzie and he has entrusted the item your father left with him to me. He had some reservations about my papers,” Mr. Jeffers went on, although no one was attending to him, “but in time he came to see that I was to be trusted. He had not opened it since the day it was given to him. As you see, it is still sealed. Now, if you will sign the necessary papers, and you as well, Sir Selby, I can turn the box over to you.”