The Last of Lady Lansdown (24 page)

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Authors: Shirley Kennedy

Tags: #Europe, #Regency, #General, #Romance, #Great Britain, #Fiction, #History

BOOK: The Last of Lady Lansdown
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“You don’t have to tell me why. Just tell me you’re going to do something about whatever it is and not lie like a lump on the bed and cry.”

Jane pushed back her hair, which had to be in disarray. “There are times when your fate is sealed and there’s nothing you can do.”

“Fiddle-faddle. There’s always something you can do.” Granny sank into a chair and thumped her cane. “Is that little worm, Percy, involved in this?”

“Yes.”

“How about Douglas Cartland?”

Why did Granny have to be so maddeningly perceptive? “Douglas, too.”

“Then why are you not asking Douglas for help?”

“Because Douglas Cartland is not obligated to me in any way.”

“He’s part of the problem, isn’t he?”

“Yes, but he’s just a friend. I have not heard any proposal of marriage coming from his lips, nor do I expect to hear one. Besides all that, I have no wish to see the man ever, ever again.”

“You’re not thinking clearly. Now listen to me.” Granny thumped her cane, harder this time. “Leave marriage and your personal feelings out of this. You’re in trouble. Use your head. You need help, and from what I can see, the only person in the world who can help you is Douglas Cartland.”

Jane dabbed at her eyes. “I have my pride.”

“Your pride isn’t worth a farthing at a time like this.”

“He’s gone. He went back to work on Rennie’s canal.”

“Then go after him.”

“I cannot and I will not. Didn’t I tell you I never want to see him again?”

“Nonsense. He can help.”

“You do not know what happened.”

“I can pretty much guess. Look at it this way. As women, we are supposed to let the men lead the way and follow like docile sheep. You and I don’t fit the mold because we have an independent streak most women don’t have. Unfortunately, I include my own daughter in that category, but,” Granny gave a regretful sigh, “that’s another story.”

Jane nodded. “You’re so right, Granny. I want to do things my way. I want to solve my problems and not rely on a man.”

“That’s all very well and good, but there are times when we must let a man take the lead.” Granny’s faded blue eyes drilled into Jane’s. “This is one of those times. From what I gather, this is a man’s business. Go to Douglas. Tell him. I guarantee he’ll take matters into his own hands, as well he should.”

Granny’s words made sense. So much so that Jane suspected her crafty grandmother knew more than she was letting on. She slid off the bed, a small glimmer of hope arising within her. “Douglas said Lord Rennie will soon be visiting the canal. I could ride with him.”

“Good for you,” Granny said with a spirited thump of her cane.

“I shall need a chaperone. Would you come with me?”

“These old bones don’t take well to a jostling ride in a coach. Amelia won’t go. She does not want to venture beyond her tight little world. In fact, you had better not even tell her where you’re going, or she will scream to high heaven that you’re jeopardizing your baby. At the least, she will demand you take Bruta along.” Jane opened her mouth to protest about the baby, but Granny continued, “Don’t bother to argue. Just take Millicent and go. Not that your silly sister would be much of a chaperone, but she might enjoy the trip. I know Lord Rennie would like to have her.”

“I’ll do it.” Could there possibly be a way out of her hopeless situation? She might be grasping at straws, and she most definitely did not want to see Douglas again, but she would give it a try.

 

When Rennie heard Jane wanted to accompany him on his journey to his canal, he expressed his delight, especially when he learned Millicent would come, too. “We shall stay at the Blue Bull Inn, where Cartland stays. It’s quite close to the canal. Good food. Music. Each evening a rousing good time is had by all.”

Having a rousing good time was the farthest thing from Jane’s mind. Still, all things considered, she was grateful for Millicent’s presence on the coach ride. Her sister provided a welcome diversion, acting her most bubbly self, chattering nonstop. In her gloom, Jane occasionally blocked out her sister’s flighty conversation, choosing instead to stare out the window at the passing landscape. Not Rennie, though. Millicent’s smitten suitor sat on the seat across from his adored one, wearing a look of rapt attention, drinking in her charm, beauty, and—only to his own ears—brilliant wit.

“Jane, you are awfully quiet,” Millicent remarked when they were halfway there.

“I’m fine. Just a bit tired.” She might appear calm on the outside, but little did they know how her mind was churning, alternating between hope and despair. How she dreaded facing Douglas, having to reveal Percy’s sordid scheme then beg for help. More than once, she thought of asking Rennie to turn the coach around and return home. Or, perhaps more practical, when they reached the canal, she could pretend nothing was wrong, that she had just come for a pleasant visit. Such a deception would not work, though. Douglas, perceptive man that he was, would sense her dark mood immediately. So she had no choice. The very possibility of Beatrice hearing every lurid detail of her encounter with Douglas drove her on. Finally, after five long hours had passed, Rennie pointed out the window. “There it is. We’ve reached the canal. See? That’s one of the locks.”

At last she would see Douglas’ canal. Eagerly Jane looked out the window and spied a blue ribbon of water, not more than thirty feet across. A long, narrow boat sat in the water, which ended at an enormous wood-and-iron door. She saw three men pushing against the door, straining to open it. One of them was Douglas.

Rennie pointed again. “They’re about to open the lock. Once the boat is in, they will close the door and then use a winch to open the paddles. In turn, the paddles will send fifty thousand or so gallons of water into the basin. The boat will float to the top, and then they will open the door at the other end to let the boat out. It can be exhausting. Good thing Douglas is in good shape.”

Good shape? Jane’s heart jolted at the sight of him. The day was warm, and he had stripped off his shirt, as had the other two men. What a magnificent body he had. Those broad shoulders and slim hips—that chest rippling with muscles—that patch of silky hair on his chest that only recently she’d delighted in running her fingers through. He was not aware of their presence yet. As she watched, he gave instructions to the other two men in a voice that rang with authority. Everything about him was masculine and commanding. Simply the way he stood there, so very sure of himself, made her want him, made her realize her decision to end their affair was prompted by her shocked reaction to Percy’s revelation. Because in truth ...

I am in love with Douglas Cartland.

Thanks to Douglas, she had discovered the strong passion within her, undiscovered for all these years. She had been so blinded by their love-making that she had not stopped to examine her true feelings. Her timing could not be worse. She could not possibly think of love while facing complete disgrace at the hands of Percy Elton. Not only that, more time had passed and she had not come ’round. Though she still could not believe she was expecting, she had to admit it was a distinct possibility.

Rennie helped Jane and Millicent alight from the coach, then yelled down at Douglas, “Get your shirt on, Cartland! There are ladies present.”

Douglas looked up to where the coach stood on the road. A smile spread over his face when he saw them standing there. When his eyes met Jane’s, they took on a special glow and she knew he was as thrilled as she. “Be right with you!”

She watched as he pulled on his shirt and quickly buttoned it. With agile strides he came up the bank, shook Rennie’s hand and bowed to her and Millicent. “What a marvelous surprise.” His eyes lingered on Jane.

Rennie slapped his friend on the back. “Just a quick visit, old boy, but I wanted to show the ladies this marvelous canal you’ve built.”

They chatted for a while. Douglas proudly gave them a detailed description of how the locks were built. Briefly they wandered along the bank, but Jane was never alone with Douglas longer than to whisper, “I have something to tell you. Something urgent.”

“Come to my room after dinner,” he murmured back.

She could say no more without being overheard and could only hope Douglas would not misconstrue her words. At the moment, making love was the furthest thing from her mind. In fact, considering her current desperate situation, she doubted she would ever want to make love again.

 

Even in her despairing mood, Jane managed to enjoy the rollicking evening at the Blue Bull Inn. The food was not as good as Rennie claimed, consisting of leg of mutton roasted to a cinder, a huge joint of boiled beef, potatoes that were hot outside and hard within, bread, cheese, and some gritty cabbage. No one seemed to care. The crowded, open-timbered dining room rocked with laughter, the babble of voices, and lively music from a fiddle and harp. Spirits, including hot spiced ale, flowed freely; patrons frequently burst into song, sometimes ribald ballads to which Jane, and all at her table, raised their tankards and enthusiastically sang along.

She sat across from Douglas. Although she tried not to, she occasionally allowed her eyes to meet his, and she could not prevent the sparks of passion that passed between them. Too bad it all had to end. Too bad she would soon face complete disgrace and have to go into hiding for the rest of her life.

Only much later, after they had all retired, was Jane able to slip from the room she shared with Millicent after her sister fell asleep. Dressed in her nightgown and blue silk robe, she slipped down the hallway and knocked lightly on Douglas’ door. He immediately opened it and she slipped inside.

“Darling,” he murmured and tried to take her into his arms.

She pushed him away. “I’m not here for that.”

His expression of ardor immediately changed to one of controlled curiosity. He backed away and indicated a chair next to the bed. “Then sit down and tell me why you are here.”

After seating herself, she began without preamble, “It’s Percy ...” and proceeded to relate in detail her nephew’s threats and demands. Douglas sat on the bed and listened carefully, his eyes never leaving her face. “So there you have it. Percy must have followed me to the dower house. He must have seen everything, Douglas,
everything
!” She felt a blush creep over her cheeks. “When I opened that package and saw the stockings, I wanted to—”

“Hush!” He slid off the bed and knelt in front of her. His roughened hands enveloped hers. “You should not have had to go through such a humiliating experience.”

She could not prevent the tears that sprang to her eyes. “It’s just ... just all so horrible. He made me feel like a whore.”

“You’re not a whore.” He touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “What we did was what people do when they love ... when they are fond of each other. It gave me great joy to give you pleasure, so how could that be wrong? What I, myself, felt with you was ...” He sighed and looked away. When he looked back, the softness in his eyes had disappeared. “You are not to concern yourself further, do you understand?”

“How can I not?”

“Say no more.” Douglas pulled her to her feet and held her close. “You are not to feel one iota of shame or guilt. You must not feel bad about anything we did.”

“What if my family finds out? And Beatrice! I would die if she knew.”

“She’s not going to know.” Douglas softly kissed her forehead, then her cheek. “Whatever we did shall remain between the two of us. Nobody’s business but ours.” Gently he tipped up her chin with his fingers and gazed directly into her eyes. “Understood?”

“What do you plan to do?”

“I shall handle it. That’s all you need to know.”

She gulped back her tears and nodded. “You are sure?”

“Positive.”

“Then I trust you. I believe you.” She had just placed her reputation, her entire future, in the hands of Douglas Cartland. She had no idea what he planned to do, yet already she felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“I shall accompany you to your room,” said Douglas.

“All right,” she replied, grateful he understood that she was in no mood to make love.

* * * *

 

When Rennie awoke the next morning, he found a note under his door.

 

Rennie,

 

I have left on urgent business. I shall be back later today.

 


Cartland

 

Strange. What could Douglas be up to? When he arrived for breakfast in the dining room, he found Jane and Millicent already there. After joining them at their table, he unfolded the note and read it aloud, frowning in puzzlement. “Douglas never said a word to me. I have no idea where he’s gone, or why.”

To his surprise, the countess spoke up. “I believe I know where he’s gone. Let’s just say it’s something personal. Don’t worry, he will be back.”

Something in her voice made him refrain from asking anything further. Truth be told, he sensed something was amiss with the countess from the moment she got into his coach yesterday. She had been distant, not her usual amiable self at all. In fact, she seemed almost distraught, as if something was terribly wrong. Well, he would not pry and would try to cheer her up as best he could. Of course, Millicent, too. “Ladies, shall we go for a walk after breakfast? There is a beautiful walkway by the river I would be delighted to show you.”

The countess shook her head. “Thank you, but I have a headache. I believe I shall go to my room and rest.”

“Of course.” He turned to Millicent, his pulse suddenly racing. How beautiful she looked this morning, wearing a bright blue gown that brought out the blue of her eyes. Golden curls peeked out from beneath the matching bonnet tied with a big bow—a most fetching sight indeed. “Uh, then Miss Hart, I wonder if you would care to ... uh ...”

“Accompany you?” She smiled, an action that not only brought out two adorable dimples in her cheeks, but also caused his heart to nearly turn over in his chest. “I should be glad to, Lord Rennie. I have been dying to see the river.”

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