Jack of Hearts (24 page)

The only influence she might have would be through her husband.

But where on earth had her sense of satisfaction from being in charge of her own destiny disappeared to? The practical Anne Heriot who had come to London in the fall and matter-of-factly drawn up her list of prospective mates seemed to have disappeared, and in her place was a reluctant young woman who only wanted to pull the covers up over her head.

Anne’s behavior was so unlike her that by the fourth day Sarah decided she needed to address it.

“Are you quite sure you are not coming down with something, Anne?” she asked her employer at breakfast.

“Other than a severe case of the blue devils, I don’t think so,” Anne replied with a painful smile.

“Can you talk to me about it?”

“I don’t know what to tell you. It is the mills, in part, and my worries about Joseph. And this weather! If t’bloody rain doesn’t stop soon, I will scream!”

“And I will join you,” Sarah said lightly, ignoring Anne’s swearing. “But it has to end sometime, and these invitations are beginning to pile up. Aren’t you looking forward to seeing Lord Windham again? Or even Lord Aldborough?” she added teasingly.

“I thought I was. Oh, I am sure I will be, once the weather clears and we can ride and walk again.” Anne sighed. “But it seemed very simple in November, Sarah. Make a list, meet the men on it, decide upon one, and marry him!” Anne laughed. “Now that I look back, I think I was being much more naive than practical. I was thinking so much about what I was moving toward that I forgot what I might leave behind. Or be putting into another’s hands.”

“The mills?”

“I have been thinking, Sarah, that I want to institute some reforms in the mills. Perhaps even go so far as to cut the hours, but not the wages, of the children,” she said hesitantly.

Sarah gave Anne a warm smile. “An excellent idea.”

“But perhaps not a practical one, Sarah,” Anne said, a little spark of humor back in her eyes.

“I doubt that it would cut into your profits excessively, so we can acquit you of being impractical,” Sarah responded, happy to see some life back in Anne’s eyes.

“Yet a very small change when one takes into account all the children in all the factories. I’d like to do more, but once I am married, I will only be able to make changes through my husband.”

“So now you have an added consideration in making your choice. Is that part of what is bothering you?”

“Yes. I have no idea what Windham’s or Leighton’s opinions are.”

“And Lord Aldborough?”

“From our conversations over the holidays, I think he might be open to my ideas. But I cannot imagine the Jack of Hearts as a reformer, can you?”

“I think you will need to question all three of them.”

“I suppose you are right.” Anne looked over at her friend and smiled. “Putting all this into words has been helpful, Sarah. Thank you.” She glanced out the window, where the rain seemed finally to be letting up. “You know, despite the fact that we will get a soaking, I am inclined to send for the carriage. We could have a drive to Hatchard’s or the bazaar.”

* * * *

Anne was right. Even with their pattens, cloaks, and umbrellas, they were wet just walking from the carriage to the front door of Hatchard’s. She didn’t mind the discomfort, however, for it was so good to be out and moving again after her unusual lethargy.

They were so intent on avoiding the deeper puddles that she ran right into a departing customer as they approached the door.

“I beg your pardon,” she apologized.

“Not at all, miss. Why it is Miss Heriot, isn’t it?”

“Lord Windham! What a delightful surprise,” said Anne.

“You cannot stand here in the rain, Miss Heriot.” He held the door open for them and ushered them inside before he folded his umbrella and followed them in.

“When did you return to London?”

“The end of last week, my lord. And we have been prisoners of the rain ever since,” said Anne with a smile. “We had to get out today, no matter how wet it is.”

“I know what you mean. I have been keeping myself busy with paperwork and estate business, but there is only so much energy one can devote to that. I needed a diversion. Are you looking for anything in particular? Can I recommend Mrs. Radclyffe’s latest? My cousin tells me it is delightful.”

“Then Sarah must have it,” said Anne. “I am torn between educating myself in the poetic tradition and the newest ideas on labor reform,” she said lightly, but she watched Lord Windham’s face very carefully.

“You are interested in reform, Miss Heriot?” he asked, his curiosity apparent. “But, of course, you have been very involved in your father’s mills. I forgot.”

“Then you don’t think it odd for a woman to concern herself with such things?”

“Not a woman like you, Miss Heriot,” he answered warmly. “Of course, at some point in the future, I am sure your husband will want to share these concerns.”

“Indeed, I am hoping so, Lord Windham.”

“Well, this table holds the latest in poetry, Miss Heriot. Did you want to read a contemporary, like Mr. Wordsworth?”

“I suppose I should become more familiar with his work, but for now, I am looking for a collection.”

“Here is one.”

It was the collection Jack Belden had been reading, and for some reason Anne had been hoping to obtain a copy.

“Thank you, my lord. That looks just the thing.”

Sarah, who had been paging through a book on the other side of the table, said, “I think I will choose poetry this time also, Anne. Here is a volume of Robert Burns’s work.”

“One of Elspeth’s favorite poets, Sarah. I don’t know if I can stand it if you start reciting in broad Scots, though, the way Elspeth does!”

“I doubt I can roll my
‘r’s
the way she does, not having been born to it,” said Sarah, attempting a Scots accent as she spoke.

Lord Windham laughed. “You do very well, Miss Wheeler. Mr. Burns is not to everyone’s taste, of course, but if you are familiar with him…”

Anne, whose warm feelings for Lord Windham had become stronger at his seemingly favorable response to her talk of reform, found herself a little irritated by his protective stance. She knew that Mr. Burns had written some very bawdy poetry, because Elspeth had recited one to her at school. They had both gasped and giggled. “Wherever did you learn that, Elspeth?” she had asked her friend. “My father has several volumes of Burns’s work. Of course, I was forbidden one of them, but that only made me more curious.”

But Burns’s more explicit poetry was hardly likely to be on display in the middle of Mayfair!

“I think it is refreshing to read a workingman’s thoughts, don’t you, Lord Windham?” Sarah asked sweetly.

“Why, yes, Miss Wheeler. And Burns is quite a popular poet.”

“As popular as Lord Byron?” Anne asked with feigned innocence.

“I believe Lord Byron’s popularity has waned recently,” Windham responded.

Anne was about to ask, “Oh, why is that?” when Sarah, familiar with her sense of humor, gave her a warning look. Anne may not be familiar with his poetry, but she was very familiar with his reputation and knew he was not a proper topic for conversation.

“May I escort you two ladies to Gunther’s for a cup of tea and some pastries?” Lord Windham asked after Anne paid for their books.

“Another day I would be delighted, my lord, but I don’t want to keep the coachman in the rain too long,” Anne replied.

“Then I will hope to see you at the Hairstons’ supper dance?”

“I look forward to it, my lord.”

* * * *

“Lord Windham seemed genuinely happy to see you, Anne,” Sarah declared once they were settled in the carriage.

“As I was to see him. He has always been my favorite, and today he expressed some openness to my ideas,” Anne gave Sarah a mischievous smile. “He seemed overly proper in his attitudes toward poetry, though.”

“I am glad I caught your eye before it was too late. There was no need to embarrass him.”

“You must admit, it would have been amusing to see him trying to explain Lord Byron’s fall from grace!”

Sarah smiled. “Indeed, it would have.”

“He is a thoroughly nice young man,” Anne said emphatically.

“Is that a problem?” Sarah asked humorously.

“I don’t think so. And he is a full year older than I am. But his sense of humor is not as well developed as Leighton’s.”

“Perhaps you will end up preferring humor and experience over seriousness after all,” Sarah responded lightly.

* * * *

Anne had left most of her new wardrobe in London over the winter, so it was almost like shopping all over again to rediscover her evening gowns and walking dresses. For the supper dance, she’d decided on a dark rose silk with a smoky gauze overdress and a bodice embroidered with jet and crystal. Although young women usually wore pastels, she had fallen in love with the color at first sight and decided that since she was not really a member of Society, she could get away with something darker.

She was very happy with her choice. She wanted to sparkle on her first appearance of the Season, and in this dress she would do so quite literally, she thought, as she appreciated the tiny fires flashing from the crystal embroidery.

They arrived a little late due to a horse’s lameness and were greeted only by their host, the duchess having just gone downstairs to join her guests. Anne apologized, explaining their delay.

“There is no need to worry, Miss Heriot. Indeed, I am happy that your off-wheeler went lame, for now I have the opportunity to take you down to the ballroom myself and claim your first dance. I am honored to be with the most scintillating young lady at the ball,” he added with an approving smile.

Anne smiled back, and she and Sarah went down the steps arm in arm with their host. Sarah was quickly whisked away by Captain Scott, who had been watching for her.

“Miss Wheeler seems to have made a conquest last fall,” commented the duke as he led Anne into a country dance.

“Two or three men became quite fond of her, I suspect. It is just what I was hoping for. But I am not sure any of them have captured Sarah’s interest,” she added.

“Well, they have all spring to do so. As do your admirers,” he added with a smile.

* * * *

“Look, Val, there is Anne with Hairston. She looks lovely, doesn’t she?” Elspeth added. “How I wish I could wear a dress like that. But it is not at all my style or color.”

Val looked at his wife and smiled. “Ah, but you look even lovelier in your green, Elspeth. And I prefer simplicity.”

Elspeth was indeed looking elegant in her gown, which brought out the green flecks in her hazel eyes.

“I am lucky Madame Celeste was able to alter the bodice for me. I have gone from being slender to…”

“A most becoming fullness,” said Val, caressing her with his eyes. Elspeth felt liquid and warm under his gaze. She had had a few weeks where she hadn’t been able to keep any food down and felt exhausted all the time. Val had been very supportive, holding the basin for her and reassuring her that just holding her in his arms was enough, when she apologized for her lack of interest in lovemaking.

Now the worst was over, however, and her desire for her husband seemed to have returned tenfold. These days, if she took to her bed in the afternoon, it was not alone and certainly not to sleep, she thought with a blush. In fact, she was hoping to persuade him to leave early tonight!

As though he’d read her mind, Val groaned softly and whispered, “You are going to exhaust me, Elspeth. I will be dead before our child is even born!”

“We had best make the most of this time,” Elspeth said with a smile, “because I suspect that the baby will change everything.”

“You are blooming tonight, Elspeth,” said Jack Belden as he joined them.

“I was just telling my wife the same thing.”

“I see Miss Heriot is looking lovely also,” Jack said blandly. “When did she arrive in town?”

“She has been here for a week.”

“Do you know whether Sergeant Gillen was able to discover who was behind that riding accident, Val?”

“Our journey to London took far longer than we expected because of the rain, so we have only been here a few days ourselves. Elspeth hasn’t had a chance to visit with Anne yet.”

“Though I expect to tomorrow, and I will make sure to ask her,” said Elspeth.

“Or you might ask her yourself,” suggested Val.

Jack smiled. “If I stay here, she is sure to come over, and perhaps I will be lucky enough to take her in to supper.”

* * * *

Anne had already spied the Astons, and when their dance was over, she asked the duke to lead her to them. She had seen Jack, of course, but there was no need to avoid him. They had established a rapport over the holidays, and she had no rational reason to feel embarrassed by a ritual kiss under the mistletoe, she told herself.

“Here you are, Miss Heriot,” said the duke. “I regret that I can’t have the next dance, too, but I must see to the rest of my guests,” he apologized as he bowed his farewell.

“You are looking wonderful, Elspeth,” said Anne.

“I have received more compliments this evening than ever before in my life. It is an odd thing to finally be considered attractive, and all because one is increasing.”

Anne gave her friend a sympathetic grin and then asked, “When did you arrive in town?”

“We were just telling Jack how the weather delayed us.”

“Sarah and I made it just before the rain, but it has been as dreary a week in town as it would have been traveling.”

“It almost felt at times like we were back in Spain, crawling along at a snail’s pace,” joked Elspeth, “We got stuck twice and ended up in some rather unpleasant inns. I would have been more comfortable in an army tent!”

“When did you arrive, Lord Aldborough?” Anne asked politely.

“I have been here for several weeks, Miss Heriot, getting my aunt and cousins settled.”

“Is one of your cousins coming out this spring?”

“No, thank God, since I couldn’t afford it, but it is a treat for them, since Lincoln can be quite bleak in the winter.”

“That was kind of you, my lord,” Anne told him approvingly. “How old are your cousins?”