The Lady's Fate (The Reluctant Grooms Volume II) Read online

  “Mama,” Jane said pointing at the picture.

  “Yes it is. She is very beautiful, Jane. Someday you shall grow up and look just like her.”

  “Boo-ti-full like Mama. Like Imma.” Jane giggled as she climbed on the bed.

  “No. Not like me Jane. You should not wish to look like me.” Violet drew the coverlet back and let the child slide down into her bed.

  Jane lay on her back and placed her little hand on Violet’s cheek. “Imma like Mama, like Jane. Boo-ti-full.”

  Violet blinked several times and hoped Jane wouldn’t see the tears.

  *****

  Ellis stood outside Jane’s door and heard the conversation. He wondered why Violet did not think herself appealing. She was a lovely girl.

  Chapter Four

  Three weeks to the day after the Marquess and his mother quit Fairhaven, Violet wanted to throw a childish tantrum of her own. It had taken nearly a fortnight after their departure to acclimate Jane to country life. The child missed her father desperately and cried so pitifully, she wrenched at Violet’s heart. With time, sunshine, and tiring activities, Violet managed to induce Jane to a schedule and during the last week, Jane had been the loving sweet child Violet had first met. Now it seemed the housekeeper was going to conspire against her.

  The day had gone from bad to positively worse and Violet, frustrated by Mrs. Jeffers lack of generosity, took out her vengeance on a sheet of writing paper. Within minutes, the missive on Jane’s behalf stated her complaints in a fair manner, with no aspersions cast on the housekeeper. Surely, his lordship would see her plight and deal with the recalcitrant domestic. She asked Grennan, the only other servant, a man-about-house, when next he went to the village, to post the letter.

  *****

  Manning stood at the edge of the large mahogany desk, holding a silver tray. “A letter has arrived, my lord.”

  Ellis glanced up from his correspondence. “I shall attend it later. Place it on the pile with the rest of them.”

  “It is from Fairhaven Hall, my lord.”

  Ellis snatched the paper off the salver and tore at the wax.

  My Dear Marquess – 5 August

  I am writing to request 10 pence be placed in the next monthly household allowance for Jane. I thought Jane could do with a pretty apron to cover her while she plays and wanted to buy the cloth. Mrs. Jeffers refused me the coin, said I was to ask you first. She said you hold a tight budget. The cloth is 5 pence.

  Having no account of my own in town, I could also not buy the toy boat that Jane took such delight in (3 pence) and it pains me to think of her without a new ribbon (2 pence) for church. Please look upon my plea in a favorable light.

  Yr. Obd. Svt.

  Lady Violet Flowers

  Ellis looked at Manning, still standing by the desk. An unusual smile played at the corners of his lips.

  “Is there something amiss, my lord?” Manning asked.

  “No, Manning, nothing amiss, thank you.”

  He dismissed his butler and sat back. Violet finally had her come out with Mrs. Jeffers. He’d wondered how long that would take. He scribbled a note in the ledger to add ten pounds to the household account.

  Thursday next, Manning stood before Ellis, the same salver outstretched in his hand.

  “Again?” Ellis took the sheets, broke the wax.

  My Dear Marquess – 12 August

  Thank you kindly for Jane’s allowance. I purchased the cloth and ribbon and Jane admires her apron very much. Enclosed is a copy of the bill from the village mercantile.

  Jane is beginning to sleep soundly. We have been taking the air, admiring the view from your gardens. Pray forgive me I took the liberty of replanting the kitchen garden. You had no herbals stocked when Mrs. Jeffers caught the ague, which is where you will find a purchase from the apothecary – a needless expense.

  I requested of my mother to send me the plantings. Even at this late date, your medicinal coffers will be overflowing by autumn. Jane is taking great delight playing in the soil digging for worms. She is less enthusiastic about her bath.

  Yr. Obd. Svt.

  Lady Violet Flowers

  Ellis smiled. Picking up the quill, he sharpened the nib and began to write.

  My Dear Lady Violet – 12 Aug

  Your attention to my daughter and my garden is heartening. I knew Jane would find solace in the country with you. I would suspend no pleasure of yours, and if you find them to your liking, you have my permission to attack any part of the gardens you wish. I am afraid they have not been cared for in quite some time.

  I am sending a few of Jane’s particular books with my mother on her next visit. I found them in my library when I returned from Fairhaven. I must confess, I am finding not having Jane on my lap reading in the evening, a small ache in my heart I never expected. There is comfort when I remember she is with you.

  When my mother arrives, no doubt, my lady duchess, will entertain to spoil the child, and please take freely of her good care. However, she will keep Jane up past her bedtime, and will indulge her with far too many sweets. I fear Jane’s disposition will suffer for it.

  Please give my daughter her father’s deepest affections. I am afraid I must remain in London for the next while. Tell Jane I do miss her, and think of her often.

  I remain, Your

  Haverlane

  *****

  “Letter come for ya, my lady. I set it on the buffet,” Mary said. A daygirl from the village, she’d been hired on to help Mrs. Jeffers.

  “Thank you, Mary.” Violet undid the ribbons of her bonnet and set it on the dining table as she walked through the huge room. She picked up the letter, but didn’t recognize the script. She turned it over and stared at the wax. Haverlane.

  She opened the missive, her fingers softly following the words on the page. He missed his daughter. It was understandable. Jane missed her father.

  Violet had no misconception about the Duchess of Chesnick. Haverlane’s mother would spoil the child excessively and there was nothing for it. It would take days after Lady Chesnick’s departure for dear Jane to turn back into the sweet loving child Violet saw everyday.

  When Violet found time during Jane’s nap, she penned a note to Haverlane.

  My Dear Marquess – 20 August

  I understand your concern when your mother comes to visit, but take heart, it will be of short duration, and my sister travels with her as well. Camelia will tire your mother out with her chatter before they even arrive at Fairhaven, and we shall all be in our beds at the appointed hour.

  Jane, does indeed, miss you. I found her wandering through the house the other day, looking for you. We ended up in your bedchamber, I do beg your pardon, but as dear Jane was so forlorn, I did not think you would find fault with our reading a book together in your chair.

  It has been raining and we find consolation in front of the fire in the library. Jane soaks in the attention from Mrs. Jeffers and Grennan. Mrs. Jeffers has knitted hats and mittens for us all, even though it is not yet the end of summer.

  Have you heard from your Cousin Phyllidia? I would so like to make the transition for Jane as comfortable as possible. She will need several weeks to adjust to someone new and my mother informs me there are only six weeks until the Little Season begins

  I appreciate her care. However, I do not think I am ready for parading around like a sparrow in borrowed jewels. I must confess, I am perfectly content, here in the country with Jane. She is growing so fast, I find dresses to let out in my sewing basket every night.

  The Rev. Perry and his wife have come for tea on several occasions and have asked to be remembered to you. He has graciously allowed me to borrow from his library. Though I do not find your library to be lacking, I have read most of the tomes placed therein. Dear Jane frolics with his children while the Rev. and his wife and I take tea. It is a simple pleasure to be sure, but one we do not tire of here in the country.

  Lady Batton sends her regards, as well as the Misses C
elia and Lydia Brayton. They have grown quite fond of calling on us, although I suspect it has more to do with seeing Jane than anything I could ever say.

  Jane has read all the books you sent. She awaits her father.

  Yr. Obd. Svt.

  Lady Violet Flowers

  *****

  Ellis rubbed his index finger over his lips. He desperately missed his daughter. Cousin Phyllidia had written and it wasn’t good news. The right thing to do would be to ride to Fairhaven and tell Violet in person. She would miss the Little Season if she stayed on with Jane. Could he ask that of the girl?

  *****

  Jane looked up from the picnic blanket. A horse clopped its way to the front of the Hall. Jane stood and toddled off to investigate. Suddenly, she ran toward the front of the house.

  “Papa!”

  Violet stood. Haverlane was here! As she walked to the courtyard, a thousand questions ran through her mind. He claimed his schedule did not permit him out to the country, so what was he doing here? Stepping around the corner of the house, she found Jane sitting on her fathers’ hip, talking excitedly. The little girl spied her.

  “Imma, Papa. Imma, come see, Papa.” Jane leaned down and Haverlane let her go.

  Jane ran to Violet, grabbed her by the hand, and dragged the older girl to her father. “Papa, Imma.” Jane smiled up at her father.

  “I see Lady Violet, Jane,” he said. A shocked gaze met his.

  Violet blurted out, “My lord, pray you have not arrived with unhappy tidings.”

  “I’m afraid I have, Lady Violet.”

  “My mother? One of my sisters?” Violet’s throat tightened.

  “No, forgive me,” Haverlane said. “Your mother and sisters are all in excellent health. I had a letter from Cousin Phyllidia. It seems she cannot come until the spring.” Haverlane snapped his gloves in the palm of his hand.

  “Oh,” Violet said. She quickly faced Grennan, as he came to take away Haverlane’s horse.

  Violet was not as downhearted as she thought she ought to have been. A part of her would miss the Little Season with her sister, and all the pretty, new gowns, yet another part silently blessed Cousin Phyllidia. The primping and prodding by her mother would have to wait, as well as the censuring looks from countless marriage-minded mamas and their sons. The dancing, as well, but Violet was glad she did not have to perform so soon. Violet would have to choose her words carefully when she told her mother she desired to remain with Jane. Countess Flowers would be extremely vexed.

  “I hope it is nothing serious,” Violet said. She found Haverlane staring at her, a curious expression on his face.

  “No. Nothing serious,” Haverlane said. “It seems Lady Penswick is with child again and cannot do without my cousin for the time being.”

  “Papa, come see.” Jane reached for her fathers’ hand, took Violet’s as well, and began walking toward the kitchen gardens on the side of the manor.

  Violet knew she blushed as she felt the Marquess’ eyes upon her. Hardly dressed for tea, despite the fact this was her best calico, Haverlane’s gaze made her feel less than the lady she was. Violet brushed a few blades of grass from her dress, presents from Jane, as she walked over the stone path.

  “I thought such news should best be told in person,” Haverlane said. “Forgive my delay, but the Prince has had me engaged these last weeks.”

  “I apologize for disrupting your schedule,” Violet said. “I do appreciate your kindness. My mother will be disappointed, but I feel somehow, that Providence has played a role and we should do nothing to upset that. Jane and I have found an agreeable schedule and I would hate to see that interrupted for a chance to dance and wear pretty gowns. Jane is far too precious to be abandoned by me at this stage.” She glanced at the Marquess. The ribbon of lines on his forehead plagued her.

  “I thank you, but I must ask, are you quite sure? I would not fault you for not wanting to remain in veritable seclusion when you could be enjoying yourself in Town.”

  Storm clouds lined Haverlane’s face.

  “I am sure,” Violet said.

  The tempest disappeared.

  Jane stopped in front of the first of the boxes in the kitchen garden.

  “Papa, see, me and Imma do.” She pointed to the herb beds that were full and overflowing.

  “You did this?” Haverlane asked Violet.

  “Jane, myself, and Grennan, and of course, I must give credit to my mother. She sent the plants on my sister’s last visit. I hope you do not mind, I had Grennan build the boxes on the other end for the flowers.” Violet pointed down the little alley in between the rows of boxes.

  “Papa, see the flowers,” Jane said, and toddled down the lane.

  Haverlane followed his daughter, his hands behind his back. “I must confess I had no idea you’ve been so industrious. This is wonderful, Lady Violet. My late wife would have been very pleased.” Haverlane stopped, waited for her.

  Violet walked a step behind, ingrained through years living in the Queen’s household.

  “I appreciate your sense of duty and etiquette,” Haverlane said, his tone dry. “But I would hope you will not stand on so much ceremony while we are here in the country.” Haverlane forced his lips into a self-deprecating smile.

  “Forgive me, my lord.” Violet bobbed a small curtsy.

  The scowl returned to Haverlane’s face.

  Jane grabbed her father’s hand and showed him the boxes filled with flowers. “See, me, Imma, do.”

  “And a very fine job, sweeting. I’m very proud of you, Jane. And you too, of course, Lady Violet. The gardens have never looked lovelier.” Haverlane’s gaze wandered over the ten boxes of greenery then found its way to Violet’s face. He raised his hand to her hair and plucked out a small white flower.

  A bubbling giggle escaped Violet’s lips. “Jane asked me to make it snow.”

  Chapter Five

  Jane led them up to the house where Mrs. Jeffers met them in the hall.

  “Would you care for tea, my lord?” the old woman asked.

  “Yes, Jeffie. Tea would be lovely.” Ellis placed his gloves and crop on the sideboard in the back hall. Glad to be home again, he touched Jane’s head and marveled at how much she’d grown in such a short time.

  “Jane, we should let Papa rest after his journey,” Violet whispered to the little girl.

  “No,” Ellis said. “Come with me, Jane. Lady Violet.” Without waiting for either of them, he strode to the library reaching the tantalus in the corner of the room. Ellis poured himself a finger of brandy and swallowed it whole. Four hours in the saddle had been a long ride.

  And a very unexpected surprise at the end of it. Not only had his daughter grown by fully an inch, Violet seemed to blossom as well from working in the gardens. Light color ran across her cheeks and freckles dotted the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were bright and held the color of the meadows. He puzzled on the gown she wore, which seemed to be loose fitting, but then, what did he know about fashion?

  Ellis waited impatiently for the girls. He missed his daughter and wanted to hold her in his lap the way Violet said she did in her letters. The letters, Violet’s letters, were his lifeline to the other life he knew he should be living. With his daughter. He did not want a wife. Anne had robbed him of that with her passing. There would be no other.

  However, he liked Lady Violet attending Jane and knew from their second meeting, she would be a quiet and gentle presence. She reminded him of Anne in that sense. Ellis felt Anne would approve his choice of nanny.

  Jane did pirouettes through the room landing at his side.

  “You are a delightful ballerina, to be sure. Now come and sit with Papa and show me your books.” He patted his lap as he sat in his favorite chair. Jane searched the shelves, found one, and crawled on his lap.

  Mrs. Jeffers brought in the tea tray. There were biscuits as well, and a cup of milk for Jane. “Shall I pour, my lord?”

  “Thank you, no, Jeffie. Lady Violet, if you woul
d be so kind,” Ellis said quietly. A quirk of his own making, he liked watching women pour out. He could tell a lot about the fairer sex, if they were clumsy, quick, generous, or tight-fisted. However, his biggest test, the amount of sugar in his tea. No one had ever gotten it quite the way he liked it except his beloved Anne.

  “Of course, my lord,” Violet said. “Sugar and cream?”

  Haverlane considered the blush that crept up her cheeks and found it charming. “Yes, to both, two sugars, please.”

  Jane opened the book and pointed to a duck. “Quack.”

  “Yes, Jane a duck,” Ellis said. “Have you seen any ducks outside? Do they fly overhead and land in the pond?” He directed his question at Jane, yet looked to Violet for the answer.

  “Yes, my lord,” Violet said. “Some have begun their migratory flight now the nights have turned colder.” She placed his cup and saucer and a small plate of biscuits on the table next to his chair.

  “Thank you.” Ellis hoped she didn’t lose her kindness when she grew up. Society had the tendency to turn the gentlest of girls into the veriest of shrews. The women his parents would have him leg-shackled to were vain and vapid at best and he doubted any of them would make his tea. None would ever hold a candle to his Anne. She’d always made him feel – welcome. Ellis took a sip of his tea, and found it, oddly, perfect.

  “Moo,” Jane said, pointing to the brown cow on the page. “Cow. Papa, moo?”

  Unlike himself to be so casual, Ellis cast his head back and made a loud mooing sound. They all burst into laughter when Grennan ran into the library, a halter in his hand.

  Later, as Jane played with her doll on the carpet and Violet plied her needle, Ellis caught Violet glance at him several times under the cover of her lashes. Beguiling, he thought, but too young. Certainly handsome, but her lushness and lack of maturity had him, not looking at her as a future spouse, but only as a very distant relation. She would make someone a fine wife one day.