Page 22 of The Widow’s Christmas Surprise

“If you don’t, allow me to enlighten you.” Jane made sure the door was closed, then returned to Maria. “Soon you will be living in the same house with two very handsome, very eligible gentlemen, one of whom is heir to an earldom. Suffice it to say that any woman with uncertain circumstances such as yours, would deem it prudent to make herself receptive to either of the gentlemen with an eye toward bringing one or the other of them up to scratch.”

“Actually, I’ll be living on the same property as three gentlemen, my dear.” Oddly enough, when she’d read the offer from Lord Kersey, the first thing that had popped into her mind—other than utter relief—had been that now she might see Mr. Granger more often. “Mr. Granger’s house is not far from Kersey Hall, if you recall.”

A look of profound stubbornness that included chin, jaw, lips, and nose, transformed Jane’s pleasant features into those of a gargoyle atop a French cathedral. “If you will be guided by me, Maria, you will forget about Mr. Granger’s existence completely. I am sorry if you have developed some sort of tendre for him. I do understand he is a good man, but he has no prospects that would be of any use to you and little Jane. Nothing good can come of an attraction between you and him.”

“Who said I was attracted to him?” The shrill voice that denied the very thing she desperately wanted to hide from Jane. From everyone. Most of all from Mr. Granger.

“I would wager on it, Maria. So if you do have any feelings for him, my dear, you need to nip them immediately, like a sudden frost kills the late roses. Be ruthless in order to be fair to yourself.”

Jane could be so vexing sometimes. “I do not plan to marry anyone else at this juncture in my life, my dear, so I hope you don’t intend to harp on this subject until the Second Coming.” Maria sat down at the table and picked up Lord Kersey’s letter once more. A miracle indeed. “Would you ring for Saunders and order a pot of tea, please, Jane? We can discuss the move and lay out what we must do to make it as easy as possible.”

She needed a bit of rest and reflection before the flurry of packing began once more. Hopefully for the very last time.

* * *

Shifting uneasily from one foot to the other, Hugh knocked upon the door to Francis House. Lord Kersey had asked him to oversee the Dowager Lady Kersey’s move from the dower house back to Kersey Hall, a request that filled him with both eagerness and unease. The move itself puzzled him. Lord Kersey had given no explanation as to why the widow was returning to the main house, not that he needed to give Hugh any explanations. Still, given the recent visit by Mr. Clarke, Hugh wondered if this move had something to do with the will he had signed in April.

Mr. Clarke had arrived at Wingate at an ungodly early hour on Monday morning to show him the page with his and Chambers’s signatures and asking if it was, to his knowledge, the same paper he had signed in April. In addition, he asked for the particulars of Hugh’s encounter with the late Lord Kersey on that morning. Hugh had obliged him and given a truthful account, including his subsequent journey to London and visit to Mr. Clarke’s establishment to deliver the letter.

“Could you have found no one else, Mr. Granger, to whom you could have given this document? You must have understood its import given your employer’s circumstances.” The scrawny little man had admonished him both with word and disparaging look.

“Am I given to believe, Mr. Clarke, that you are in the habit of employing clerks who are so incompetent that they cannot file important documents correctly?” That single question had deflated the solicitor’s supercilious air. “Whoever the man was whom I spoke with gave me to believe he had the authority to act on your behalf when you were from the office. Otherwise I would never have surrendered that letter to him.”

Mr. Clarke’s pinched face had drawn in even further, as though he’d bitten into the sourest lemon in Christendom. “Just so, Mr. Granger.” He cocked his head, his pale blue eyes suddenly piercing. “Did Lord Kersey inform you of the contents of the will?”

Hugh shook his head. He’d wondered mightily for months what Kersey had written, especially after it became apparent that Lady Kersey and her child had received nothing in the way of financial maintenance. All along he’d assumed the earl had wanted to provide for his wife and coming child and thus the last-minute document. Of course, he’d had no idea the will had been misplaced and now hoped fervently that her husband had left Lady Kersey a means by which she could live comfortably and raise their child without worries. With the revelation that the will had now been found, Hugh’s hopes for the lady had been raised once more.

The cold wind whistled past Hugh’s head, making him shiver as Saunders opened the door to Francis House and he hurried in. Perhaps this move had something to do with the provisions of Lord Kersey’s will. In any case, it meant that, since the dowager would now be residing at Kersey Hall, he would likely see her more often. A blatantly foolish hope on his part, but one that occurred to him as soon as the words instructing him to oversee the move had left Lord Kersey’s mouth. “May I have a word with Lady Kersey, Saunders?”

“Her ladyship and Lady John are upstairs overseeing the packing, Mr. Granger.” Saunders’s sullen demeanor did not go as far as insolence, but Hugh understood how grievously the man would resent being demoted back to footman.

“I do not wish to deter them from their occupation; however, Lord Kersey has sent me to oversee their return to the Hall. I will not trespass upon much of her ladyship’s time, but I do need to speak with her.” Another steward might have gotten the man sacked for such an attitude, but Hugh had great patience. He’d discovered early on in his career that disgruntled servants quite often had their uses.

“If you will wait in the reception room, sir, I will tell the lady you are here.” Saunders executed a crisp turn and hurried away.

Hugh wandered to the front window, but the blustery wind sounded cold against the glass pane and he retreated to the fire that smoldered on the hearth. Nothing remained in the room save the large pieces of furniture and the curtains, which would be left to molder as they had before Lady Kersey had come to give them warmth and purpose. Although the lady’s presence again in the great house would be welcome, it saddened him to think of this cozy house becoming an empty shell once more.

“Mr. Granger.”

Hugh whirled and caught his breath. He’d not seen Lady Kersey for more than a week, so the sight of her, cheeks pink, blue eyes sparkling, attired in a deep lavender day dress with black trim, rendered him speechless. Aware of the deep silence in the room, he coughed and forced himself to speak. “My lady. Thank you for receiving me. Saunders informed me that you are overseeing your packing. I would not disturb you, but as I am to manage the actual event, I wanted to make certain you understood when everything needs to be ready.”

“Please have a seat, Mr. Granger.” She indicated the sofa to him, then sat in the chair opposite. “Of course, I will be happy to meet with you anytime you wish . . .” The lady came to a halt, her previously pink cheeks now almost scarlet. “To discuss the move, I mean.”

“Naturally, Lady Kersey.” The image of them meeting. . . alone together as now, but in his home . . . in his bedchamber . . . Heat poured through him. Had the fire blazed up? Suddenly his cravat seemed to cut off his air supply.

“So when would you like me to be ready for you . . . for the move?” More flustered than he’d ever seen her, Lady Kersey avoided his eyes. She clasped her hands in her lap, twisting them helplessly.

“Would tomorrow be too soon? Only your belongings and Lady John’s need go at this time. The rest of the furnishings can be returned to storage at any time.”

“Yes, tomorrow will be fine.” She managed to smile at him. “We are almost done now.”

“Do you require any assistance?” Hugh tried to keep the eagerness out of his voice, but it was impossible. All he had to do was set eyes on the woman and he couldn’t control himself.

“Oh, no.” Her gaze darted away again. “We shall be fine, I’m sure. What, um, what time will you want to fetch us?”

“It needn’t be early. What time would be convenient for you?” Merely sitting here talking to her was creating a riot in his breeches. If he didn’t leave soon his proclivities would be exposed for the lady to see in the form of tented pants.

“Will eleven o’clock be acceptable to you?” The clear topaz blue of her eyes, deepened by the near-blue hue of her gown, sought his—pools he would love to drown in.