“Does she? Then I shall be papa henceforth.”
Before long, Barbara was laughing atop the piebald pony. But Andrew knew it would be short lived. He had ridden to the river with William that morning, and despite promising to fly fish for trout with him tomorrow, the boy remained subdued. Andrew held onto the faint hope that the new governess would quickly replace Jenny in their hearts.
The next day, a letter from Raymond arrived, in answer to Andrew’s questions concerning Walter Judd.He appears to be a respected member of York society, with excellent land and a tidy fortune, Raymond wrote. But I have discovered something of interest.Judd is known to visit a brothel when in London. Not so unusual perhaps, for a single man, except that this one caters for abnormal interests. And I’ve been told that one of the girls was badly beaten by him. It begs a question about Mr. Judd’s inclinations. I know you will agree.
Alarmed Andrew dropped the letter on the desk. Not the sort of man a father would wish for his daughter, surely. Should he make the baron aware of this? Or would it be perceived as unwelcome interference? But could he simply do nothing? He turned to gaze out the window at the gardens, visualizing the young lady who crossed it with his children in tow carrying the ginger kitten. He ran a hand over his jaw as his unease grew.
That evening, he sat alone at the dining table after the covers had been removed, a crystal decanter of brandy and snifter on the table before him. He replenished his glass and sipped the smooth mellow contents. While he would make her father aware of Judd’s brutish nature, he accepted that he could provide little proof. His knowledge of Judd was hearsay. He could employ a Bow Street Runner to confirm what Raymond had told him, but that would take time. And if he delayed, it would prove too late. But Ray’s letter had so disturbed him he was determined to act to ensure Jenny was safe. And he had to face the real reason behind all of this. He wasn’t yet ready to give Jenny up, not without a fight.
He pushed away his glass before the liquor destroyed his clarity of thought. Rising from the table, he stood before the fire, staring into the flames. It had been too long since he’d faced his feelings and been honest with himself. One thing had become clear to him. He wanted Jenny, not just for his children’s sake, for his, in his life, and in his bed, for as long as the good Lord chose to bless them. Trouble was, he had no idea of Jenny’s feelings for him, for she’d given little sign, beyond the courtesy she afforded him as her employer. Jenny’s smile, the warm spark in her lovely eyes, could have been gratitude. He was in danger of making more of it than there was.
There was nothing for it, he had to find out if Jenny wished to marry this man. If she was happy, and felt nothing for him, he would come away and attempt to move on with his life.
The next morning, after breakfast, he rang for the coach to be brought around. And as he planned to put up at a York hotel, he had his valet pack him a portmanteau and accompany him. He wouldn’t leave until he was sure that Jenny wasn’t hiding something from him. He knew her to be more than capable of sacrificing her own desires for those she loved.
Jenny woke togray skies. Rain threatened, which reflected her heavy mood. Papa planned to take the carriage into York today. The announcement would appear in Saturday’s newspapers. Her marriage to Judd would then become a fait accompli with no chance of escape. But despite her fears, Jenny was determined to go through with it. She would match Judd’s sly nature with her feminine wiles. He would not get the better of her. Unless he sought to use violence, and for a moment, that possibility made her panic, and she took several deep breaths to calm herself.
She couldn’t back out now. Not after Beth crept into her room last night to tell her how much better she felt to have Jenny here.
“Nothing has happened to worry you, has it, Bethy?” she’d asked fearing her answer.
“Only Geoffrey.”
“Who is Geoffrey?”
“My orphaned otter pup. Papa had ordered me to take him back to the river. He says otters bite, and they smell, but Geoffrey never bites me.”
Jenny kissed her young sister’s cheek. “St. Francis of Assisi would approve of you, Beth.”
Beth widened her big eyes. “Why?”
“He was the patron saint of animals. He preached sermons to them and praised all creatures as brothers and sisters under God.”
Beth smiled. “I would have liked him, too.”
“If anything worries you, you will tell me, won’t you?”
Beth pushed back a pale blonde lock and nodded. “I am taking Geoffrey back to the river this afternoon. Would you like to come with me?”
“I should like that very much. Thank you for inviting me.” Jenny smiled. Beth always lifted her spirits.
Her father had loosened the purse strings, but it would hardly cover the cost of a wedding gown as other things were needed, Jenny would make her dress. She was quite good with a needle. She and Bella took the carriage into York to purchase material. They returned with a bolt of white satin, ribbons, and silk flowers to dress a straw bonnet. Jenny considered it a practical purchase. She could adapt the dress for future use. She held the material up in front of her before the mirror. Her eyes looked sad. She turned away to take out her sewing-basket, removing scissors, her silver thimble, needles, and thread.
In the afternoon, Jenny and Beth walked back from the river where Geoffrey now restored to health, gamboled, and basked in his freedom. An elegant coach stood on the sweep before the house, and a tall dark haired man had just alighted.
Jenny picked up her skirts and began to run across the damp grass.
“Jenny! Who is it?” Beth cried as she ran after her.
“Andrew George William Hale, Duke of Harrow,” Jenny called back breathlessly. Her bonnet fell off and dangled by its ribbons as she leapt over the garden bed onto the gravel drive.
His Grace turned and saw her, and removed his curly beaver hat, smoothing his dark hair.
Jenny slowed her pace, her heart galloping, joy at seeing him for a mad moment blotting out every shred of common sense. But then she slowed.
She set her bonnet back on her head. Why had he come?
Breathless, she stopped and took him in, so elegant in his multi-caped greatcoat and polished hessians. “Your Grace.”
