“Tea? You know I prefer coffee in the morning,” she protested.
“This is a special herbal blend. It will help you feel much more the thing." Lady Elsbeth handed Jane the china cup, then drew a chair forward to sit beside the bed. "Serena has written again. She has supplied me with a list of those that accompany her. I may thankfully say it is not a long list.”
“Oh?”
Lady Elsbeth nodded. She held up a closely written letter. "Mr. Raymond Burry is, as you may guess, escorting her.”
“He has been in her entourage all season. What does Beau Burry see in Lady Serena? Or she in him? He’s neither wealthy, wise, nor—if you consider his corpulence—healthy.”
Lady Elsbeth looked reprovingly over the edge of the letter. "Such cynicism does not become you.”
Jane waved her hand in apology and requested she continue.
"Serena also mentions a Lord and Lady Willoughby."
"Who?”
“Willoughby. She says they’re from somewhere up north. This is their first trip south."
“How odd,” Jane mused. She took a sip of tea. "Is that all?"
"No. And I’m afraid the last is a name you’ll not like.”
“Gracious, such hesitancy in your tone! Dislike more than my two relatives? Impossible, I’m sure. Who could be more unwelcome than Aunt Serena and Cousin Millicent?”
“Sir Garth Helmsdon.”
Silence fell between them. Then Jane blinked and rallied. "It appears that of late I’ve been too impetuous,” she said lightly. "I did not believe it was possible to ache so after a fall, and I did not believe there could be a name more unwelcome to me than my aunt’s and cousin’s. It appears I was wrong.” Shadows darkened her eyes. She took a sip of the tea.
“Perhaps he is now dangling after Millicent,” Elsbeth offered.
“Oh, I’m sure he is. However, recall that we agree Millicent is likely coming here to throw her cap at Royce. She most likely desires someone to take Helmsdon off her hands. And who would be better than the very woman he so ardently pursued during the season?” Jane asked bitterly.
She handed the cup back to Elsbeth and threw off the covers. Picking up a wrapper from the end of the bed, she jerkily stuffed her arms in and wrapped the garment about her. She began pacing the room, her protesting muscles a bittersweet counterpoint to the pain of her thoughts.
Ardently was perhaps too weak a word to describe Sir Helmsdon’s pursuit for her hand. The man was a gazetted fortune hunter who was desperate to find a match that wouldrelieve him of financial worries. He could have married well into trade, for there were businessmen in abound who would trade their wealth for society’s entree, but Helmsdon was a snob and would do anything to avoid cit’s blood.
It was unfortunate, for the man could be charming when he chose. Nonetheless, as Jane discovered, he could also be ruthless and was not above kidnapping or ruination to achieve his goals. He was the real reason she took to her heels and departed London before the season was out. He tried to arrange an assignation designed to ensure her ruination unless she married him.
He did not know that she was wary of all such traps, for there was a similar trap sprung on her in the past that, only through happenstance, failed. The irony being it was the very trap Aunt Serena attempted to use on her three years before, not to marry her off for some gentleman’s advantage, but to clear the field for her own daughter’s pursuit of another. Mr. David Hedgeworth. When her original plan failed, Lady Serena altered it slightly to lead to Millicent's supposed ruination at the hands of Mr. Hedgeworth, knowing that the gentleman would do decently by her daughter and solicit her hand in marriage.
Jane rubbed her temples to ease the incipient headache building there. Was there ever such a coil? Who could she get to act as a shield? What could she do to protect herself, for she did not put it past Sir Helmsdon to make an attempt upon her virtue and thereby force her hand. In this, Lady Serena Tipton would no doubt aid and abet him.
Then she remembered the apartments on the ground floor.
“Elsbeth, in your opinion, would it require much effort on the part of the servants to make the old family apartments habitable?”
“No, not at all. Why?”
“Because that is where we shall be staying for the duration of our guests’ visit.”
Jane wouldn’t tell Elsbeth why they must remove to the ground floor rooms; nonetheless, once Lady Elsbeth assayed the heavy oak door with its ornate lock that guarded the entrance to that wing, she began to understand. What puzzled her was Jane’s quiet conviction that such safeguards as distance and a heavy oak barrier were necessary. Sir Helmsdon was an annoyingly persistent suitor, but certainly not one to overstep the bounds of propriety! Still, it wasn’t like Jane to act unwarrantably, and there was her matter-of-fact attitude that argued against any suspicion of hysteria.
That afternoon, as Jane directed the cleaning and organizing of those apartments, there was a certain grimness to her expression not totally explained by her weakened condition. She had just finished directing the movement of certain heavy pieces of furniture when Jeremy came with the information that the Earl of Royce was in the parlor. Lady Elsbeth glanced at her niece worriedly, dubious as to her reception of the information. To her gratification, Jane merely directed the servants to carry on and formally suggested Elsbeth accompany her.
“I should be very remiss in my duty if I didn’t!”
“Oh, excuse me, Aunt Elsbeth. I’m sorry. I must seem the coldest individual today. My mind is quite tied up in knots. I’ll own that news of Sir Helmsdon’s imminent appearance has rattled me a bit. It’s just that he was so persistent . . .” she said, her voice fading away. She shook herself and forced a bright smile to her lips, but it was a smile that failed to reach and warm her icy green eyes. "Will you forgive me? I shall strive to be better. I promise.”
