The Promise (8 page)

JANE WAS ALMOST ASLEEP on her feet as she followed the duchess to the chamber she would share with Pip. Two nightgowns were laid out at the end of the bed, a small frilly pink confection for Pip and an embroidered cotton night rail for Jane. She wondered if a servant had been dispatched to purchase the garments, or if they had belonged to Maura at various stages of her life.

The bed linens had been changed, the room dusted and aired out. A trunk full of toys had been placed in the corner. After making sure Jane would also stay, Pip was thrilled by the idea of spending the night at Carlisle House.

“This was your other mother’s room when she was a girl,” Jane explained as she snuggled up with Pip on the down-filled mattress. She drew the silk counterpane over them both.

“My other mama grew up in this house?” Pip asked. “She slept in this bed? And the toys were hers, too?”

“Yes. They are yours now. Isn’t that wonderful?” Jane asked.

“Oh yes,” Pip said breathlessly. “Everything is so beautiful, Mama. I would feel like a princess if I lived here.”

“This could be your home, Poppet. Your uncles and grandmother love you. They told me they want you to live here with them.”

Pip smiled. “Live here?”

“Yes. As you said, like a princess. The Duke has the most beautiful carriage to take you shopping and the park is only a block away. You could play there every day if you wanted. And you never had a grandmother before. Grandmothers are wonderful; I remember mine used to dote on me. I bet the duchess would dress you like her very own little doll with pretty clothes and hats and gloves. What do you think? Would you like to live here?” Jane painted a picture that would appeal to any little girl.

“I wouldn’t live at Sugarmann’s?” she asked with a frown.

“No. Carlisle House would be your home.”

“And would you live here with me?”

“No, but I’d visit as often as I could.”

“I don’t want to live here then! I will live with you and visit my new family here.”

“Shhh. Everything will work out in the end, you’ll see. I have to work in the morning. Would you like to spend the day with your grandmother?”

Pip hesitated. “You won’t be here?”

“No, but I’ll come to see you as soon as I’m done at the bakery. Will you be all right until then? I promise you’ll have more fun with her. It’ll be a grand adventure and you have this big house to explore. When I come, you can tell me all about it. What do you say?”

She thought about it for a minute then smiled. “I think that would be fun.”

“It’s set, then! I’ll be gone in the morning when you wake up, but I’ll return as soon as I can. Sweet dreams, Poppet.”

“Sweet dreams, Mama.”

Outside the door the duchess exchanged a thoughtful look with her sons. They realized two things. The first was that Miss Gray was an ally. The second was that they would have to take things slowly.

Chapter Six

Jane’s internal clock did not fail her. She had awakened before dawn for years and her body recognized five o’clock on a cellular level. She slipped from between the covers, tucked them around Pip, and dressed quickly.

The household was silent when she padded down the stairs and made her way to the entry hall. There was no one in the foyer, but as soon as she reached the front door, Peckham materialized seemingly from thin air.

“Good morning, Miss Gray,” he said. “May I offer you a cup of tea and a slice of toast before you begin your day?”

Jane wondered how on earth he had known she was up and about. “Goodness, Mr. Peckham, don’t you ever sleep?”

“No mister, just Peckham,” he corrected with a smile. “I might ask you the same thing, Miss Gray. Will it be tea and toast, then?”

“No, but thank you. I fear I’ll be late for work as it is.”

“Then it would take too long to ready the carriage. May I summon a hack instead?”

“Again, thank you, but no. The walk is short and the morning air will refresh me.”

Gossip had been flying below stairs. Servants had pieced together enough of the story to know that the little girl upstairs was Maura’s daughter and that Miss Gray had raised the child.  Between what Peckham had overheard on her arrival and what he had gleaned by listening at the library door, he had expected the baker to sleep until noon after her ordeal. Instead, she awakened at the crack of dawn to face a long walk across Mayfair.

“You should not traverse the streets alone,” Peckham protested. “It isn’t safe. You must permit a footman to accompany you.”

Jane smiled and placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “I’ll be fine. There will be no one about at this hour but paperboys and street vendors setting out their wares. Have a lovely day, Peckham. I will return this evening to see Pip.”

She frowned, debating whether or not to ask a question.

“What is it, Miss Gray?” Peckham prompted.

“Should I use the front door, do you think, or the servant’s entrance?”

Peckham recalled his words the day before with mortification. He already liked the young woman and had a right enough understanding of the situation to know the Wallace family owed her a deep obligation. He was offended by the idea that she would use the servant’s entrance.

“Why, the front door, of course. And might I say that I look forward to seeing you again, Miss Gray? I’ve not seen the duchess so happy in many a year. Maura’s child has put a spark back in her eyes that has been missing since, well, you know. Everyone at Carlisle House, above stairs and below, is grateful to you.”

“You’re very kind. Until tonight then, Peckham.”

Jane stepped out into the chilly morning air. She walked quickly and her body soon warmed. As she had predicted, there were few people on the road and traffic was light. Only a handful of vegetable carts and garbage wagons clattered past as she worked her way toward the bakery. Street sweepers were clearing the crosswalks of waste that had accumulated overnight.

Leaving Pip in the care of strangers had been a difficult thing to do. She knew full well that they could change their minds and deny her entrance that evening. If they sent word to the bakery that she was not to return to Carlisle House, she would have to accept it. Jane didn’t think they would do that, however. She believed Lord Wallace when he said they would put Pip’s emotional welfare above all other considerations.

It was a comforting thought, considering she had no choice but to trust them.

The sound of bells jingling above the door and the familiar scent of warm yeast and pastry icing greeted her as she entered Sugarmann’s. Jane strolled past the front counter and emerged in the back to find Mrs. East punching dough in a snit. Eager to vent her foul mood, the bakery owner launched a frontal attack.

“Kind of you to show up for work,
your ladyship
,” she carped.

“I had no control over what happened yesterday, Mrs. East,” Jane defended herself. “Consider yourself lucky I’m not in jail over a misunderstanding.”

“Consider
myself
lucky? You have an inflated idea of your own worth, my dear,” she said sourly. Jane was taken aback. While she knew she wasn’t indispensable, she thought her employer valued the long hours she worked. Jane never complained, and no matter how large the order, she always worked until it was filled, even if that meant baking through the night. Not to mention the fact that her cakes were works of art, if she did say so herself. Apparently she had overestimated her own value.

Mrs. East folded the dough, gave it a quarter turn, and slammed it onto the counter. She glared at Jane while she punched with renewed vigor.

“Do you, or do you not, work for me?
Please, Mrs. East, may I take a few hours off to visit friends? Please, Mrs. East, may I have the morning to run errands? Please, Mrs. East, may I take Pip to the park?
There is too much for one person to do here. If you don’t want the job, there are plenty who do. Pip may be one of the bleedin’ gentry now, but you’re not, nor will you ever be. Best you don’t forget your place.”

With a flash of insight, Jane understood the source of her employer’s nasty attitude. Mrs. East had gotten a peek at the splendor of Carlisle House and was irked that Pip was now linked to high society and through her Jane was as well, however tenuously. A glimpse of stratospheric wealth had a way of irritating those who had no hope of attaining it. Jane had to admit she felt more than a twinge of envy when she observed the way the Wallace family lived, the lavish mansion, the army of servants, the beautiful possessions. It was enough to make an ascetic long for luxury.

“Well!” Mrs. East barked. “What have you got to say for yourself? Are you going to be slipping away to bloomin’ Marylebone every chance you get, ’cause I won’t be putting up with any more missed time.”

Jane shrugged out of her coat, hooked it on a peg, and slipped into her apron. “Things are all settled now, Mrs. East. I can’t think of a reason I’d have be missing work any time soon,” she said quietly, hoping it was true.

Finally taking note of Jane’s defeated posture, Mrs. East spared her a sympathetic glance. “I see Pip’s not with you. They’ve taken the child away, then?”

The frank question pierced Jane straight through the heart.

She wasn’t sure how much Mrs. East understood of what transpired the day before, or what facts the Wallace family would want the general public to know. Considering the number of people who had been interviewed, though, Jane reckoned the horse was out of the barn.

“Yes. Pip is related to the Duke of Rutledge. Can you feature it? The family wants her to live with them,” Jane said miserably.

“Ah. Well. The child’s better off, I say,” Mrs. East grumbled. “A bakery is not the proper place for a young one to spend her days. That’s the very reason Mr. East and I moved the family to Uxbridge, if you recall. Now Pip will have servants to see to all her needs. She’ll have a proper education and live amongst the Quality.”

Jane didn’t answer. There was no point.

AT TWO O’CLOCK THE sleigh bells hanging above the front door jangled, announcing a customer. Jane wiped her hands on her apron and hurried out to the display counter. Mrs. East had left twenty minutes earlier to run errands during the afternoon lull, leaving Jane to handle the shop alone.

Her welcoming smile froze when she rounded the corner to find Lord Wallace standing in the middle of the room looking entirely out place among the bistro tables and chairs. His eyes met hers and he smiled so warmly she took a step backward. Jane couldn’t have been more surprised if the Queen herself had strolled in for a cruller.

“Miss Gray,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “I was just in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d drop by to say hello.” The statement was nonsensical, but his expression defied her to challenge it.

Striving for nonchalance, she stacked her arms on top of the glass cabinet and returned his smile. “Well hello, then,” she said, pleased that the words sounded fairly relaxed despite the fact that her heart was beating in triple time and a host of butterflies had taken wing inside her stomach.

“Is Pip bringing up the rear?” Jane asked with a hopeful glance at the door.

He shook his head. “If I know my mother, Pip is halfway through the most extravagant shopping spree in the history of mankind. She hasn’t had a child to spoil in years and I suspect she’s making up for lost time.”

The happiness Jane felt on Pip’s behalf was bittersweet. All little girls liked beautiful things. Jane just wished she had been able to provide them.

Sensing the direction of her thoughts, he reached out and gave her hand a quick squeeze. “You have given her the most important things.”

With a fresh shave he looked years younger and less intimidating, but Jane knew Finn Wallace posed a serious threat to her peace of mind, with or without beard shadow. Her skin tingled from the brief contact with his. The man was just too damn handsome; she couldn’t think straight when his impossibly blue eyes were aimed in her direction.

Jane was glad he didn’t favor the bushy sideburns and moustaches that were currently in vogue. Instead of riding breeches, today he was dressed in charcoal grey trousers and a black cashmere overcoat. His dark hair and sun-bronzed face contrasted nicely with his snow white stock. He still looked like a pirate, just a more civilized one.

She was intensely curious about him. Did he have a wife or fiancée? The notion incited a sick feeling in her stomach that she didn’t care to examine too closely.

She glanced down at her ring finger, then at his. She wished men wore engagement rings. He caught the glance and raised a brow, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“I’m not,” he winked.

She chose not to acknowledge the remark.

They regarded one another in silence for several seconds, each waiting for the other to speak. His gaze was direct,
too direct
, and like the previous night at dinner, Jane imagined he could read her thoughts. It wasn’t rational, but her cheeks warmed anyway. He made her feel… exposed… as if he understood precisely what affect he had on her.

“Have you a sweet tooth, Lord Wallace?” She bent down to peer through the sliding glass on her side of the case. Pretending to examine the pastries and pies, she spoke quickly, commenting on the various ingredients in her favorites. When he didn’t select one, she looked at him through the glass. “Do you see anything you like?”

His smile broadened. “I do indeed.”

If her cheeks got any redder, she’d burst into flames, Finn thought with amusement. He generally found virtue tedious, but Jane wore it well.

He had come this morning against his will and better judgment, called by her sweet, gentle nature and a strong compulsion that refused to be ignored.
And he had tried to ignore it.
Finn told himself he owed her an apology, but it was more than that. From the moment he awoke, she had consumed his thoughts. He wanted to be near her again. It was as simple… and as complicated… as that.

He studied her face through the wavy glass, her features neatly symmetrical, her coloring monochromatic, brown hair, brown eyes, brown dress. There was nothing extraordinary about her to explain this inconvenient attraction. Women had specific, narrowly defined purposes in his life. Finn liked it that way. When he looked at Jane, he couldn’t plunk her into any of his neat little categories, perhaps that was the source of her allure.

He straightened to his full height. Jane did likewise.

“I have something to confess. I didn’t really come to say hello.”

“I didn’t think so.” She tilted her head to one side. “Why
did
you come?”

“To apologize for my unpardonable rudeness yesterday. The only explanation I can offer is that I spent a tense, sleepless night after learning about the locket. We have waited so long to discover what happened to Maura and…”

Jane shook her head. “Please. There is no need. I understand completely.”

“You’re very kind. All is forgiven?”

“And forgotten,” Jane assured him. “I probably would have behaved similarly.”

Finn gave her a skeptical look.

“I might have left out the part about the actresses,” she teased.

“That was boorish,” he conceded with an unrepentant grin.

“And boastful, truth be told,” she smiled.

“Now I’m mortified. Clean slate?”

“Squeaky clean.”

“Excellent. May I have a tour?”

“A tour?”

“Yes. I’d like to see where and how Pip was raised. It may help me understand her better. We have a lot of time to make up.”

Jane hesitated. Keeping a big, bulky counter between her and Lord Wallace seemed like a good idea. Besides, the kitchen was her private domain; customers never ventured behind the counter, even tradesmen left bags of flour and sugar in the pantry by the hall.

Interpreting her silence as a refusal, Finn said pleasantly, “Would I be breaking a rule? Forget I asked.”

Jane relented. “It’s all right. Please come back,” she lifted a hinged section of countertop and gestured for him to step through. “It will be a very short tour, however. There isn’t much to see.”