Not Always a Saint (21 page)

As he wrote, Jessie said, “As a member of the House of Lords, you can work on such reforms.”

“Indeed, I can. I'm beginning to appreciate the advantages of this lord business.” He stood, saying, “I'll take these to Martin now.”

The house wasn't large enough to make the butler difficult to find. Daniel arranged for Jessie's notes to be sent and their carriage to be prepared for the morning, but before he left, he asked, “Are you the Martin who was instrumental in saving my sister's life several months ago?”

Martin's professional polish vanished as he said gravely, “Yes, and I was very glad I was able to assist, my lord.”

In fact, this young man's assistance had been critical, and he'd been seriously injured in his service. “You have my profoundest thanks,” Daniel said quietly. “If there is ever anything I might do for you, you have only to ask.”

“I would do anything for Lady Kirkland, so no reward is required,” Martin said simply. “Lord Kirkland was very generous even though I asked for nothing.”

“Was his reward this position of butler?” Daniel asked.

“I always wanted to become a butler, but I also wanted to continue working for the Kirklands, so his lordship gave me this position.” Martin's smile showed his youth. “And her ladyship gave me and my Molly a grand wedding just last month.”

“So you're also a newlywed!” Daniel said warmly. “Congratulations to you both.”

Forgetting even more of his professional detachment, Martin said, “Marriage is the grandest thing imaginable, isn't it, my lord?”

“One of God's best inventions,” Daniel agreed with a laugh. “Milton Manor would be a fine place to raise a family, I'm sure.”

Martin gave a smile that lit up his whole face, and his ears turned pink. Clearly he and his Molly were working hard to start that family.

As he left Martin, Daniel realized that if Rose had survived, they would have had a marriage that was as straightforward and happy as that of Martin and his Molly. Instead, he had Jessie, with her beauty and her complexities and her responsibilities.

Life would have been simpler with that youthful marriage. Yet he could no longer imagine anyone but Jessie as his wife.

D
aniel gazed out the carriage window at the stark Dorset heath. “We'll arrive at Chillingham soon. Does the countryside look familiar?”

She shook her head. “Not really. I recognize some of the village names, but I very seldom left Chillingham, so I don't know much beyond the town itself.”

“Does the town have an inn? The day is well advanced, and even if your visit with your father is very brief, there might not be time to find lodgings in another town.”

Jessie's hands were clenched into fists as she tried to control her tension. She suspected Daniel was making casual conversation to distract her. “The George is the closest thing to an inn that Chillingham has. There are only a few rooms, but it was clean and the food was good. The owners, Mr. and Mrs. Brown, were always kind to me.”

“The George sounds as if it will do nicely. Shall we book a room and freshen up a bit, then go and call on your father?”

Jessie nodded. “The sooner I get this over, the better.”

Daniel said seriously, “You don't have to see him.”

“I rather think I do.” She stared at her knotted hands and remembered her childhood in too vivid detail. After her mother had disappeared, she'd lived in constant fear of her father. Even now, his cruel hand shaped her life. She wanted to be free of that. Not that she'd ever be free of the memories, but perhaps she could banish the fear.

The road descended from the heath into a green and fertile valley. As the carriage entered the town, Jessie stared out the window and was startled by how little had changed. Her breathing tightened as she had a swift, horrible feeling that she'd fallen back into her childhood, and her escape and multiple husbands were just a dream.

Sharply she reminded herself that Ivo had been more of a nightmare, and that she had indeed escaped. And this time, she would not face her father alone and vulnerable.

“The George is ahead on the right,” she said. “That's the market square ahead, and today is market day. You can see the tower of the church on the far side of the square, and the parsonage is beside it. Chillingham is a compact little town.”

She noticed people peering from windows at their shiny black coach, which was on loan from Kirkland. They would be stirring up speculation even before she was recognized as the returning prodigal daughter. The prodigal son had needed forgiveness and healing. Jessie doubted that she would receive either of those, but she needed—something.

Their driver slowed and swung the carriage under the archway that led into the George's courtyard. Nothing had changed except perhaps the color of the geraniums in tubs that framed the door to the small office.

Though Chillingham was not on a major coaching route, the inn did a steady business. It had seemed an exotic place to Jessie when she was a child because the coaches were a connection to distant, fascinating places. She'd watch carriages and wonder wistfully where the passengers came from and where they were going.

As Daniel helped Jessie from the vehicle, he remarked, “We've been living off the generosity of the Ashtons and Kirklands, but as soon as we stop moving, we'll need to acquire servants and carriages and all the other paraphernalia to support our lordly lifestyle. I have every intention of leaving that to you, since you've been a baroness much longer than I've been a baron.”

She smiled as she alighted and scanned the neatly kept courtyard. “I shall greatly enjoy spending money and giving jobs to people who want them. I'll start with a lady's maid. I didn't need a full-time maid at Kelham, so Lily took care of me as well as Beth, but that won't work anymore. Elsa, the maid who helped me at Milton Manor would do very well, and she seemed eager to see more of the world. Would Kirkland and your sister mind if I try to hire her away?”

“If you ask politely, I'm sure they'll be reasonable.” He made a face. “I expect I'll need to acquire a valet as well.”

“The right man will make your life easier,” she promised as she took his arm and guided him toward the office.

They stepped into the office and the rosy, middle-aged woman working at a battered desk looked up, then gasped. “Miss Lisbet! Is that really you?” She scrambled to her feet, her face alight with excitement.

Jessie caught the older woman's hands. “Mrs. Brown, you haven't aged a day!”

“What a sweet liar you are, my dear. I'm a gray-haired granny now, and happy to be!” Mrs. Brown glanced at Daniel. “I imagine you're not Miss Braxton anymore?”

“Indeed, I'm not. This is my husband, Lord Romayne.”

Daniel bowed to the innkeeper. “It's a pleasure to meet an old friend of my wife, Mrs. Brown. I hope you can accommodate us tonight?”

“I have only one room available,” the innkeeper said apologetically. “It's our largest, but maybe you'd rather stay at the parsonage? Your father has much more space.”

Jessie arched her brows, and Mrs. Brown said hastily, “I suppose not. Well, the blue chamber is the best in our house.”

“I'm sure it will be splendid,” Daniel assured her.

Mrs. Brown shook her head in amazement as she studied Jessie. “My, you look fine. So you're Lady Romayne now and will be mistress of that great castle down on the coast!” Her gaze was admiring when she studied Daniel. Dropping her voice to a stage whisper, she said, “Such a handsome gentleman! No wonder you eloped with him! Though I'd thought it was that dark boy you ran off with?”

Jessie hesitated, wondering how much to say. Certainly not everything. “Sadly, my first husband died, but I am twice blessed, for I found Lord Romayne. He's only recently inherited, so this will be our first visit to the castle.”

But before the castle, she must confront the dragon. Drawing a deep breath, she said, “If you'll show us to our room, we'll freshen up a bit, then call on my father.”

“Right this way, then. Do you wish to order dinner here tonight?”

Jessie glanced at Daniel. When he nodded, she ordered the meal and they followed Mrs. Brown upstairs. The room was spacious, with a small sitting area and a comfortable-looking bed. There wasn't much space for Daniel to sleep on the floor, but they'd manage. Sharing a bed was a minor issue at the moment.

After the innkeeper left, Daniel said, “At least one person is happy to see you.”

“There will be a few. Women and children who I met in church since I wasn't allowed to go much of anywhere else.” Jessie removed her bonnet and inspected her appearance. She was wearing a lavender gown, which was the most cheerful of the colors considered acceptable for half mourning, and it was a shade that suited her very well. Defiantly she added a shawl richly woven in shades of purple, green, and gold.

Daniel stepped behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders as she gazed at her image in the mirror. “You look like a woman of consequence,” he said. “Formidable.”

“I'm not sure that's true, but it's what I need to hear,” she said ruefully. “Now I must beard the beast in his den.”

“It's walking distance,” Daniel said. “But would you prefer the carriage take us through the market so you won't be recognized?”

Anonymity was tempting, but she shook her head. “That would be pretentious for such a short distance. Plus, all of the town and its inhabitants are part of the fabric of my past. I should face it all.”

“What role do you want me to play?” he asked. “Lurk quietly in the background and say little?”

His calm gaze steadied her nerves. On impulse, she brushed a light kiss on his cheek before stepping back and pulling on her gloves. “Yes, and be prepared to rescue me if I fall apart and need it!”

“You will manage this as you've managed everything else that has come up in your life.” He opened the door, adding, “For better or worse, this will soon be over.”

Jessie hoped he was right. They descended the stairs and stepped out onto the High Street. She took his arm as they turned left and walked toward the crowded town square. As they neared the market, they began to attract attention.

First there was interest in their fashionable appearance. Then a woman said, “Why, it's Miss Braxton, sure enough! Look at those eyes!”

A wizened old woman swung from behind a table of fruit and vegetables for a closer look. “Sure enough, little Lisbet, all grown up!” She offered a crooked-toothed smile. “You're looking very well, girl! And who's this fine gentleman?”

Mrs. Potts, that was the woman's name. She was a farm woman who came into the market with her produce, and who'd always been generous with the leftover apples at the end of a market day. “Mrs. Potts,” Jessie said. “It's so good to see you! This is my husband, Lord Romayne. May I buy an apple for old times' sake?”

The old lady cackled. “Have a couple for free, for old times' sake!” She picked two firm red apples from her table and tossed one at Daniel and one at Jessie.

Jessie would have fumbled and dropped hers, but Daniel caught both, then bowed deeply. “Many thanks, Mrs. Potts!” He straightened and tossed her a bright, shiny sixpence that he'd produced. “Now you have a mug of cider for old times' sake!”

Mrs. Potts caught the coin deftly with another cackle of laughter. “You got yourself a good 'un, Miss Lisbet!”

There was a murmur of general approval from the onlookers, but a furious woman's voice hissed, “Whore!”

Jessie ignored the comment, but Daniel looked in the direction of the anonymous voice, his expression suddenly cold. No more insults were heard from that quarter.

Jessie tucked both apples in her reticule, where they made a rather suggestive double bulge, then took Daniel's arm and they continued through the market square. She returned the greetings of those she recognized, but maintained a pace that discouraged conversation.

The only exception was a bright-eyed blond girl of thirteen or fourteen who cut through the crowd, wild with excitement. “Miss Lisbet, you've come back!”

Jessie stared, trying to imagine the bright hair and blue eyes eight years earlier. “Emily Tipton, all grown up!”

She spontaneously hugged the girl. As a small child, Emily had followed Jessie around, her eyes adoring. The daughter of the local apothecary, she'd had a quick mind and lively curiosity. Jessie had loved helping the child with her reading and telling her interesting new facts as Jessie learned them.

Emily laughed and hugged her back. “I was so afraid I'd never see you again! How long will you be in Chillingham? Mama and Papa would love to see you! Papa has been teaching me how to compound medicines.”

Jessie had sometimes been sent to pick up medicines and potions, so she knew the Tiptons better than she knew most of the residents of the town. They'd always been kind to her, too. With real regret, she said, “We're just spending a single night. But I'm glad I've had the chance to see you.”

Emily was crestfallen, but she said bravely, “At least I have a chance to say hello. Perhaps you'll come this way again?”

“Perhaps.” Jessie pulled Daniel forward for an introduction. Since Castle Romayne was less than a day away, they might come this way in the future. If they wished.

Excusing herself from Emily, Jessie took Daniel's arm again and they continued through the market until the square narrowed down to the east end of the High Street. The church was only a block away, its square Norman tower as sturdy as ever. Jessie's fingers tightened on Daniel's arm. “The vicarage is the large house on the far side of the church.”

He patted her hand. “How are you doing? Most of the Chillingham populace seems glad to see you alive and well.”

“I never had much opportunity to make enemies,” she explained. “It was strange. As the daughter of the vicar, my status was high, but I think most people were sorry for me. No mother and Cassius Braxton for a father.”

They passed the church, and she thought of all the hours she'd spent kneeling on the cold stone floor under orders to pray for her miserable soul. The only effect was to reinforce her desire to run away.

The church was behind them and the parsonage now loomed on the left. The warm gray local stone used for the houses of Chillingham was usually appealing, but the sprawling stone vicarage looked cold and threatening. In truth, it was both.

A tall iron fence surrounded the property, and the gate squealed ominously when Daniel swung it open. After they passed through and walked to the front door, Jessie paused, chilled to the bone.

“It's going to be a terrible anticlimax if your father isn't home,” Daniel said as he stepped up and wielded the knocker.

She knew he was trying to ease her tension, but all she could do was shake her head wordlessly. If her father wasn't in, she might not have the courage to go through this again.

The door swung open, and standing there was Miss Ludley, the meanest woman in Chillingham. A flamboyantly righteous spinster, she'd been devoted to both the church and its vicar.

When Miss Ludley saw who was on the doorstep, she looked as if she wanted to spit.
“You!”

Jessie's paralysis dissolved and she offered an insincere smile. “The prodigal returns, Miss Ludley. Are you now the vicarage housekeeper?”

Miss Ludley's chin jerked up. “I have that privilege. Someone must ensure that Mr. Braxton's household is run properly!”

“And I'm sure you do that very well,” Jessie said. “Is my father home?”

Miss Ludley scowled. “He's writing his sermon and must not be disturbed.”

“Surely an exception can be made for his long-lost daughter,” Jessie said breezily. Daniel in tow, she swept into the house with a confidence that made the housekeeper retreat. “If he's working on his sermon, he must be in his study. No need to show us the way. Perhaps you can bring us a tea tray?”