The Rebel (42 page)

“When was the last time you were here?”

Jane thought back. “Three years ago. I was
here when one of my aunts, the youngest sister to my mother, was
marrying. We arrived a week before the wedding, and I left for
Ireland two days later.”

“They asked you to leave before the
wedding?”

Jane smiled gently at Frances’s shocked
expression. “It was a mutual decision. I was not going to wear
anything but black to the ceremony, and this did not agree with the
flower bouquet the bride was carrying.”

Frances blinked once and then burst into
laughter. Jane couldn’t stop herself from joining her.

“I must say, Jane, you have become my
ideal,” the young woman said a moment later, her beaming smile
lighting up the carriage. “I so admire your courage, your
intelligence, your independence…your forthrightness. I strive to
become like you someday.”

“Oh, Fanny.” Jane grasped the younger
woman’s hand tightly in her own. “Contrary to what you think…I am
someone to avoid. Nothing good will come out of becoming as
disagreeable as I have become.”

“I beg to disagree with that.” She leaned
forward and smiled meaningfully. “You have not only managed to
capture Nicholas’s interest, you have redirected his life entirely.
I should say—remembering the impossible bachelor rogue that he was
before—you have accomplished a most astonishing feat.”

“There are much easier ways of capturing a
man’s interest than the route I have taken.”

“But I doubt there are many that are more
exciting.”

Before Jane could argue further, Frances
pointed to an approaching street. “And here we are! That is
Elizabeth’s house. And right there…on that side of the square…is
Nicholas’s.”

Jane looked out the window at the line of
fashionable houses surrounding a large fenced area of greensward
and walks with a garden and statue in the center.

“The gilded statue of the man on the horse—”
Frances pointed again. “That is the first King George.”

Jane’s attention was still on the house. She
did not know if Nicholas were in London or elsewhere.

The carriage rounded the square and came to
a stop in front of the house. Instantly, footmen and servants were
lining up before the steps as Jane followed Frances out onto the
street. They had obviously been expected, for more servants rushed
out to carry up the baggage.

It was the smell of London that struck a
chord in her memory. So different from the clear farm air and the
smell of peat, here the crisp autumn air carried with it the not
unpleasant scent of coal fires.

Inside, she was introduced to the house
steward, a rather formidable looking rough named Charles, who
appeared to be blind in his left eye from some horrible injuries
he’d sustained on that side of his face. The housekeeper, Mrs.
Hannagan, was a surprise to Jane, for the woman was from Dublin and
as cheerful as she was apparently efficient. Their reception was
warm, and, to her delight, the housekeeper answered the question
that had been burning on Jane’s tongue since yesterday.

“Sir Nicholas has been out all day, miss.
But he did send a message around noon that if you were to arrive
early enough, that you should rest and be ready for a late dinner
at the home the Earl of Stanmore’s house tonight. Lady Stanmore
insisted, miss.”

Jane remembered Nicholas mentioning the name
and referring to them as his best friends.

“Oh, they are in London?” Frances asked in
an obvious delight.

“Only for a few more days, Miss Fanny.
They’ll soon be leaving for Solgrave—that is their estate in
Hertfordshire, Miss Purefoy—but Lady Stanmore has insisted on
meeting Miss Purefoy and visiting with you both.”

As they were ushered upstairs to their
rooms, Jane spoke up. “I think it would be best if I were to stay
behind. I am a stranger and…”

“Do not even think it!” Frances gave her a
bright smile. “Knowing my brother’s friends, the main purpose of
this dinner tonight is to meet
you
.” She shook her head
before Rebecca could speak. “You heard what Mrs. Hannagan said.
They want to meet
Miss Purefoy
.”

“But that is surely Clara and not I.”

“They met Clara last spring.” Frances patted
Jane’s hand. “Accept it! You will have to spend another evening
under the lens. But this time I believe you will not mind it.”

“And why is that?” Jane asked suspiciously
as Mrs. Hannagan directed a serving maid to open the door to a
spacious and beautifully appointed bedchamber.

“Because Stanmore is dashingly handsome.
Because Rebecca is about your age and is as untraditional as any
countess in England. And because they are the happiest married
couple I have ever encountered in my life. Is that not so, Mrs.
Hannagan?”

The housekeeper smiled in agreement.

“Trust me, you shall love them.” Fanny
nodded with all the conviction of a true woman of the world. “And
they
shall love you.”

***

No stone had been left unturned. Of that he
was certain.

As the result, Nicholas was late in arriving
at his friends’ Berkeley Square townhouse for dinner. Philip,
Stanmore’s ancient steward, greeted him with uncharacteristic
warmth, however, just inside the front door.

“And how was your day today, Sir
Nicholas?”

Nicholas studied him with suspicion as he
handed his hat and gloves to a doorman. In light of the rigidly
unresponsive manner with which the steward customarily addressed
anyone, the simple query constituted a fortnight’s allowance of
pleasantries. Perhaps a month’s worth.

“Very well, thank you. And how was yours,
Philip?”

“Despite it being a little cold for
September, I was able to accompany Lady Stanmore and the young
masters to St. James’s Park this afternoon. Master James is
starting his session at Eton this fall a month late, you see, on
account of the excitement of having a new brother. Of course,
Daniel…you remember my brother Daniel, sir? the steward at
Solgrave? Of course, sir. Well, Daniel has already arranged for the
lad’s tutor, Mr. Clarke, to meet with us at Solgrave. As was the
case last year, we already know that Master James will be far ahead
of other pupils when he arrives at school next month.”

Very well, Nicholas thought. That
constituted roughly a year’s measure of chitchat for Philip. He bit
back his smile at the change in the steward. Rebecca’s positive
influence during the past year on Stanmore and on everyone else
around them had been the most amazing thing to observe. But this
drastic change in Philip since Nicholas’s last visit was
inexplicable. He was a hard old nut, but something had managed to
soften his shell.

“And where is everyone, Philip?”

“His lordship and your sister and Master
James are in the East Room, sir. Her ladyship and Miss Purefoy,
however, went upstairs to put Master Samuel to bed, as he was
becoming quite assertive, sir.”

Nicholas paused by the upward sweep of
stairs in the hope of catching a glimpse of Jane. All of the
arrangements he’d made with his mother to send Jane and Frances
ahead while she took Clara to Bath had worked out perfectly. Now he
had to capitalize on his efforts.

He was certain that Jane’s change of heart
and disappearance from Woodfield House had been the result of some
discussion with Clara. Whatever words had been exchanged between
the sisters had once again planted in Jane’s mind the idea that
Nicholas was destined to be married to the younger sister.

The ship out of Cork City had not even
passed Knockadoon Head before he realized his only opportunity lay
in separating the two. That way he would at least have a chance to
talk some sense into Jane.

“May I be bold enough to congratulate you,
sir?”

Nicholas turned in surprise and found Philip
standing beside him. There was no reason for denial. The man’s
meaning was very clear.

“She hasn’t agreed to marry me yet.”

“Fear not, sir. I believe you are second
only to his lordship himself in persuasiveness. If he was happy
enough to succeed, then I shall place my wager on you.”

Nicholas smiled and fell in with the steward
as he started toward the East Room. “I know it has taken me a long
time to admit this, Philip, but I am actually starting to like
you.”

“Your secret is safe with me, sir.”

***

Everything Fanny had said about this family
was true.

In spite of the fact that Jane was quite
prepared to dislike the Earl of Stanmore, a well-regarded member of
the House of Lords, after only a few hours in his company she could
not stop herself from liking and respecting him. Quiet and direct
in speech, Stanmore was a dashingly handsome man as well as quite
obviously intelligent and surprisingly broadminded.

And the countess was a rare gem.
Unpretentious in a manner unlike any of the aristocracy Jane knew,
Lady Stanmore had a beauty that radiated from within. Rebecca, as
she insisted on being called, had welcomed her as if the two of
them had been lifelong friends. By the end of the evening, Jane had
fallen under her charm so much that she found herself wishing that
a long term friendship between them could be possible.

Why, even these couple’s children were
exceptional. Their older boy, James, who had turned eleven this
past summer, appeared slightly hard of hearing in one ear and only
had two fingers in his deformed right hand. But neither of the
problems affected either the lad’s spirit or his attachment to his
infant brother.

The young Samuel Fredrick Wakefield, only
two months old, demonstrated his strong personality at regular
intervals. Holding the round-faced baby had made Jane’s heart swell
with unexpected emotion. And later on, when she’d watched Rebecca
nurse the child herself and put him in his crib, Jane had found a
startling maternal yearning clutching at her breast.

The only thing that had exceeded those
feelings had been the fluttering heat that had erupted within her
upon coming downstairs and finding Nicholas standing in the East
Room. His eyes smiled warmly when he saw her enter.

Other than some cordial and public
pleasantries, not much more had been said between them. But he
rarely ever took his eyes off her for the remainder of the
evening.

As the farewells were said and they prepared
to leave, Rebecca pulled Jane aside for a private word.

“Jane, I have already done my best to
impress it on Nicholas, but now I am petitioning you. Do please
come and stay a few days with us at Solgrave. Our short visit
tonight has only managed to whet my appetite for getting to know
you better, and I am so eager to have a longer visit with you.”

Jane was pleased with the invitation and
said so. “My sister and Lady Spencer should be arriving in London
tomorrow or the next day, I should think. I should tell you I am
very much under their direction for the length of our short stay in
England.”

“Very well.” Rebecca smiled and looped her
arm through Jane’s. Together, they walked toward the open front
door. “Then I shall send a letter to Lady Spencer about it and make
sure you all come to Solgrave.”

“I, for one, would be delighted.” She
returned the warm smile of the countess and said goodbye to
Stanmore before following Frances out onto the pleasantly cool
night. A carriage and a groom were waiting for them on the street,
as well as several of the Stanmore’s footmen.

“I had the best of times.” Fanny’s happy
smile turned into a yawn that she hardly tried to hide. “But I
believe I should spend most of the day tomorrow in bed.”

She was handed into the carriage first, but
just as Jane started to climb in after her, Nicholas’s firm grip on
her elbow held her back. “You go on to the house, Fanny. Jane and I
will walk the few blocks home.”

Jane’s stomach leaped pleasantly and her
heart began pounding hard in her chest, but she was not so blinded
not to notice the glint of Fanny’s mischievous smile as the young
woman sank back into the carriage seat. “I hope you won’t think me
impolite, Jane, but I am not waiting up.”

After the carriage had pulled away,
Nicholas’s hand tightened on her arm. “I hope you have no fear of
walking with me.”

She shook her head, but couldn’t bring
herself to look into his face. His touch, his voice, the promise of
the two of them alone together again set the tingling feelings
racing along her skin. He dropped his hand, but they fell in step
as they strolled down the street.

“How careless of me not to ask! How is your
ankle?”

“Perfectly well, thank you.” She looked
about contentedly. “They are a lovely family.”

“It is hard to believe that they have
already been married over a year.” He cast a parting glance back
toward the house. “Time passes by so quickly.”

“Lady Stanmore told me how she and James had
been living in the American colonies for nearly ten years before
coming back to England and meeting the earl.”

“She does not share the story of her life
with many people. She obviously likes you.”

“The feeling is mutual. I believe I am quite
fortunate to have had the opportunity of meeting them. Thank
you.”

“Well, after the relentless questioning that
Stanmore subjected me to this morning—during which time he forced
me to talk about nothing but the mysterious and beautiful Miss Jane
who I was so absorbed in—there was no getting away with it.”

Surprised, she glanced up at him, only to be
staggered by the look of tenderness in his blue gaze.

“I have missed you, Jane.”

The force of the simply spoken words caused
her heart to lodge immediately in her throat. She couldn’t say the
words, but her hand moved on its own accord and slipped through his
arm. The streets on the next block were darker, with only a single
lamp hanging from a house near either end. He tightened her hold
against his side.