Lady In Waiting (39 page)

"Oh, do you really believe that? If you do, you are not half the man I thought you to be." The walking stick clicked thrice, then stopped just at the point where Callu
m
's voice emanated. "Because I happen to know that

303

the opposite is true and if you trusted your heart, you would know this."

"
What do ye mean?" came Callum's confused voice.

"
That Jenny did not confess, at first because we begged her not to ... but later, because she loved you so deeply. She knew, after learning your deep-seated requisite for truth, that the moment she told you who she really was, a maid, you would leave her forever."

"Nay, I wudna have."

"Oh, really, Argyll? What have you just done?"

Jenny couldn't endure another word. This was all so painful. When she looked up and met Lady Letitia'
s
eyes, her employer reached out a hand and squeezed her shoulder gently.

"I'm sorry, gel," she whispered. "I had hoped Sister would be able to talk some sense into the lad by now. But it seems his wounds go far deeper than we knew."

The smile Jenny returned felt feeble on her lips, but that was all she could manage just then.

"Oh, there now. I own, Viola may still turn his coat. In fact, I am confident that she will. Won't you stay?"

As Jenny shook her head, a pin flew from her hair and clattered across the sideboard. And that was it, all it took to send the tears cascading down her cheeks again. Averting her face from her employer, she snatched up the hairpin, then turned and quietly left the dining room.

******************

For the next three days, Jenny threw herself into her work. Come spring, the family would return to London to prepare for Meredith's presentation. And though she had not yet confessed her intentions to anyone, for she

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did not wish to be talked out of beginning her life anew, she would not be making the trip with them.

Still, Meredith would require an appropriate wardrobe for her debut and it would not do to leave the girl in a fashion lurch. Therefore, Jenny spent every afternoon with a draper or modiste, fashioning a workable ensemble of clothing for a young miss of Meredith's elevated standing.

She scoured the shops of Bath for the perfect accoutrements for each frock, right down to jewel-headed hairpins.

Efficiency was her primary goal with each outing, for each trip held a dual purpos
e
—
o
utfitting Meredith and taking inventory of available items for her own shop. When possible, she even quizzed the shop owners for their source
s
—
a
nd they would actually tell her! Of course, they had no way of knowing they were aiding their own competition.

By the second day, Jenny had made a game of how much information she could glean from each merchant. She'd push open the shop door, and from the moment the bell clattered overhead, she timed herself to see how quickly she could encourage the shopkeeper to part with supplier information. Soon, her belly did a little flip each time she heard a bell.

On the third day, quite by accident, Jenny found herself on Upper Milso
m
Street and decided to take a look at her shop. For in her mind, it already was hers. She had the blunt she needed for the first six months, but decided she'd only offer payment for the first three. After all, she needed money to decorate and fill the place, didn't she?

For the first time in days, her step was light as she

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neared the shop. Until she saw a man outside
her
shop, turning a key in
her
lock.

"Excuse me, sir," she called out, not giving a fig if such a display was not ladylike. "I say, is this your shop?"

The man was ta
l
l and lean with a long, narrow face, which immediately brought to mind a horse. His clothing was neatly pressed, but his coat was made of coarse wool, and his shirt of cotton. No fine gentleman, this. But what bothered Jenny was that he held the to let sign in his gloved hands.

"Ah, yes, it is. May I assist you with a matter, miss?" His voice was rasp
y
—
a
nd good God if he didn't sound as much like a horse as he looked.

Her eyes alighted on the sign again and her spirits and the smile on her face plummeted.

Oh, no.
How could this have happened? She had an interview with a Mr. Lewis on Saturday. She had been so close. So blasted close to realizing her dream.

It was clear her feelings were transparent. "Is everything all right, miss?" me man asked. "Name's Lewis, Malcolm Lewis. I own this building."

Mr. Lewis, did he say? Her attention was pricked. Well, that changed everydung, now didn't it?

Jenny spread her lips and flashed him a gleaming smile. "I am very pleased to know you, sir, though I daresay, I find our meeting quite me coincidence. For we were to meet Saturday to discuss this very property. My name is Miss Jenny Penny."

Now it was Mr. Lewis's turn to appear crestfallen. "Oh, dear. I do not know what to say."

Any sentence that begins with "Oh, dear" cannot finish

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positively. The smile melted from her mouth and dripped away into nothingness.

Mr. Lewis looked her squarely in the eye. "I do beg your pardon, Miss Penny, but there is no longer a need for our interview on Saturday."

Oh, blast! Here it comes.

"You see, miss, I just finished meeting with another gentleman who has agreed to purchase the entire building."

Jenny's mouth fell open. Just like that? A gentleman buys the whole bleedin' building and her dream
s
—
h
er futur
e
—
d
ashed?

"So ... I am sorry to advise you that this property is not available."

Jenny heard sounds coming from her mouth then, but only a few seemed to make any sense. "Bu
t
. .. there are n-n-no more shops to let on Milso
m
." And even those words wobbled nearly incoherently.

He manufactured a forlorn look for her. "I am sorry, Miss Penny." Tipping his hat and bowing ever so slightly at the waist, he walked past her and continued along Milsom Street.

All strength seemed to leech from her body. The three parcels she had been carrying fell from her arms to the walk. She bent to retrieve them, but her legs went to jelly too, and lest she fall, Jenny sat down on the ground and stared up at the empty shop,
someone els
e
's shop,
as her skirts billowed around her.

So what are you going to do now, Jenny? What will you do now?

307

The next morning, the sky opened up and released upon Bath a hail of sleet and freezing rain. Walking was treacherous, but despite her aunts' protests, Miss Meredith left the house shortly after her midday meal with a dutiful Edgar at her heels.

With Meredith absent, Jenny spent the day planning the girl's trousseau, which she had been remiss in building sooner.

By tea time, the sun peeked through the gray clouds and fell upon Royal Crescent, though the rest of the spa city remained bathed in gray.

When daylight shone through the window in Meredith's chamber, Jenny peered out at Nature's selective illumination and marveled at what she saw. The dark bare branches of every tree behind the crescent's grand sweep of houses were coated with a finger's width of ice, and they glistened like a sparkling wreath of Austrian crystal in the golden light.

"Jenny!" came the sound of Lady Letitia's strong voice from the passageway.

She turned her head just as her ladyship entered Meredith's chamber.

"Meredith has taken it upon herself to visit Lord Argyll in Laura Place."

Jenny was stunned and doubted she heard Lady Letitia correctly. "
I
—
I
beg your pardon, my lady?"

"Yes, 'tis true. I only just learned of this myself. Edgar sent a message back with a footman. Thank heavens I sent him along to walk with her for safety, what with the ice on the flag way."

Just where was this discussion going, Jenny wondered with more than a little trepidation.

"I own, I do not know what Meredith's concocted in

308

that mischievous brain of hers, but she refuses to return unless you, my dear, retrieve her."

"Me?" Jenny gaped at this.

"Yes,
you.
And I do apologize, dear, but she is required to play the fortepiano next door in two hours' time, so you must go and fetch her."

"Right away, my lady."
Oh, please. Anything but this!

"Oh, do not
l
ook so shaken. Though young Meredith insisted on walking all the way to Laura Place, likely for the folly of sliding on the ice, I have sent for the carriage to convey you."

Jenny bobbed a curtsy. "Thank you, my lady."

Lady Letitia turned to leave, then stopped and looked back at Jenny. "It is quite bitter. Do take care to bundle u
p
—
i
n fact, why don't you take Viola's fur-lined cloak. I wil
l
l
et her know you shall be borrowing it. She will not mind in the least. Don't want you and the babe t
o
—" Her words cut off then and she stared at Jenny. "Wel
l
, we wouldn't want
you
to catch a cold upon your chest."

"No, my lady. My thanks."

The moment Lady Letitia left the room, Jenny returned to the window and gazed out onto the ice-covered landscape. Of course there was another scheme afoot. But she could not disobey her employer.

No matter. A sad little smile crept over Jenny's lips. Whatever it was, it would be worth enduring, if only to wear Viola's fabulous ermine-lined, royal blue cloak. She turned and hurried down the stairs.

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It was nearly dark as the town carriage arrived in Laura
Place. As the door opened to the footman's knock, Lord Argyll's man, Winston, led Jenny through the house to a wide set of French windows.

"There you are, Jenny!" came Meredith's excited voice as she bounded down the passageway with Edgar at her heels.

Jenny cast a serious gaze at Meredith. Perhaps if she hurried, she'd not even see Callu
m
, and thus spare her heart a modicum of pain. "You are wanted at home, Miss Meredith. I have come to retrieve you."

Meredith just laughed. "Actually, no, Jenny. You have come for an interview with Lord Argyll. I was merely the means to bring you here."

"What?" Jenny's muscles tensed as she felt the Feathertons' well-oiled trap spring closed upon her.

Meredith slipped her arms around Jenny's waist and drew her close. "I wi
l
l be leaving now, but Edgar shall stay here, below stairs . .. you know, for propriety's sake."

Jenny's eyes went wide. "But I can'
t
... not now."

But it was too late. Meredith was already on her way out the front door, waving good-bye as she hurried toward her aunts' carriage.

"Miss Penny," said Winston, gesturing to the French windows. "My lord awaits you in the courtyard."

In the courtyard? What, in this weather?

Still, when Winston opened the glass doors, she dutifully stepped over the threshold. Flickering light to the right caught her eye and she turned her head to see a most amazing spectacle.

White votive candles, the sort Jenny knew were only to be had at the premier chandler on Trim Street, lined

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either side of a pathway that led to a shimmering center circle ringed with nigh on twenty flaming wood-filled cressets.

The flames in the cressets burned so high that a glowing opaque wall of bright golden light prevented her from seeing inside the wide circle.

Her curiosity overtook her apprehension, and she crunched carefully down the sparkling ice-encrusted pathway, through the narrow opening between cresset baskets, and finally into the circle of light.

O
h
... m
y
.
..
word.
Jenny's voice left her and she could do naught but stare at the faery story world before her.

Four ice-coated cherry trees, filled with tiny glass lanterns, created a brilliant starlike canopy of winking light above a table set for two.

The candlelit table was strewn with the perfect snowy petals of white hothouse roses, and if her nose did not fail her, fragrant orange blossoms ringed two crystal goblets.