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Relief flooded Jane. “I think so too,” she said.
Asher sat beside Alice in the carriage, his face pressed to the glass, watching the hedgerow pass by with childlike wonder. Alice was already watching him well. If a bump in the road unseated him, she gently set him aright. If he went to put his feet on the cushions, she tugged them back down. Even if she had not recognized it before, Jane was now fully convinced that Alice was a godsend.
“We should probably discuss a strategy for persuading your parents that having Asher at Charwell Park is a marvelous notion.” Aunt Millward kept her voice low, but Asher was far too engrossed to bother with adult conversation and Alice was fully focused on him.
“Do you have a suggestion?” Jane asked. She had yet to generate a single idea, and with the chimneys of Charwell Park in sight across the fields, time was running out.
Aunt Millward frowned. “No. But I daresay one will come when we really need it.”
“Surely that would be now.”
Her aunt chuckled. “You would think so, would you not?”
Jane sighed. Her aunt’s remarkable ability to ignore convention and to find joy in the unexpected had been a blessing to Jane countless times. This was not the time to wish it were different. But to have a stratagem that boasted something more than slim hope would have been nice.
“He will need shoes and clothing,” Jane said.
“Leave that to me,” Aunt Millward said. “I will have the child clothed before one o’clock this afternoon. You coax your parents into allowing him to stay by that same time, and we shall have the rest of the day to arrange his accommodations.”
“I believe my part of this plan is significantly harder than yours,” Jane said.
Aunt Millward folded her hands on her lap and chuckled again. “I believe you may be right.”
“And the all-important means of persuasion still alludes me.”
“It will come,” her aunt said calmly.
The carriage rolled through the front gates and started up the drive. Jane watched Asher’s eyes widen even more as the large house came into view. His small hands gripped the vehicle’s window frames while his thin neck craned to enable him a better view, and the rightness of her decision to bring him here settled on her like a comforting blanket.
“It will come,” she repeated softly.
Her aunt reached out and patted her hand. “I have complete faith in you, my dear.”
Jane gave her a strained smile. “Thank you, Aunt Millward.”
When the carriage came to a stop at the front of the house, Albert appeared at the door to help them out. Alice exited with Asher, but as soon as Jane descended, Asher inched closer to her, grasping a fist full of her gown until she reached down to take his hand. Her heart warmed that the little boy had taken to her so quickly, and as they slowly ascended the shallow stairs leading to the front doors, she determined that she would not let him down.
Gresham opened the door to them, his passive expression firmly in place despite Asher’s presence at Jane’s side.
“Is my mother in the drawing room?” Jane asked.
“Yes, miss,” Gresham said, taking her outerwear. “I believe she is with your sister.”
“And my father?”
“He is in his study, miss.”
As the butler spoke, the door to her father’s study clicked open, and her father emerged, a piece of paper in hand. He noticed the ladies immediately and started toward them. “Good morning, Bea. Jane.” The staccato click of his heels against the tile echoed in the vast hall.
Asher gave a small whimper, and Jane tightened her grip on his hand.
“Good morning, Reginald.” Aunt Millward handed her shawl and bonnet to Gresham before turning to face her brother.
“Good morning, Father,” Jane said, furiously considering her options as he drew nearer. Would it be better to speak with her father first or have her parents together when she made her argument for keeping Asher?
His feet slowed, and Jane knew he’d spotted the little boy at her side.
“What on earth do you have clinging to your skirts, Jane?” Her father’s voice sounded more like a growl.