The Heart's Companion

When Jane woke the next morning she knew immediately that she’d taken her tumble down the hillside far too lightly. There did not seem to be a square inch of her body that did not ache. She groaned as she stretched.

"Sore ye’d be, I prophesied to Lady Elsbeth, and sore ye are," stated a clipped, Irish voice.

Jane turned her head to see her dresser, Mrs. O'Rourke, lay down the petticoat she was mending. The widow of an impressed seaman, she’d been with Jane since her come out and had long adopted the forwardness of a lifetime servant. She was an imperious looking woman with a stern, long face and gray hair swept severely off her high brow. Other servants were in awe of her. She was good at her job but secretly given to periodic indulgences with the bottle, spouting prophecies and conversing with 'little people' no one else could see.

"You were not alone in that prophecy," Jane said tightly as she straightened cramped limbs and struggled to sit up. "I believe I was the only one who did not. I stand, or rather sit," she amended as her legs gave way under her when she attempted to stand, "corrected. I do not recall ever hurting so. I suppose my aunt has another liniment ready for me to try?"

"Aye, a minty one. Sweet smellin’ and bound to clear yur head if not ease yur pur muscles." She crossed to the dressing table and came back carrying a white, wide-mouthed jar. She liberally rubbed the creamy lotion into Jane’s skin, her wide, spatulate fingers kneading tight muscles. Slowly Jane relaxed and gave herself over to enjoying the massage.

"Hmm, I must admit I do feel better," admitted Jane when Mrs. O'Rourke stopped and recapped the jar, rubbing her hands on her apron front.

"Now you be restin’ there while I send fur yur breakfast and inform yur lady aunt that yur awake."

"You’ve massaged my muscles until they’re incapable of movement. I will not be going anywhere," Jane assured her, languidly closing her eyes and savoring the cold-hot sensations of the lotion on her skin.

She must have drowsed lazily for several minutes, for the next thing she was aware of was the sound of rattling china. She opened her eyes to see Lady Elsbeth pouring a cup of tea. Jane struggled to sit up against the pillows.

"Tea? You know I prefer coffee in the morning," she protested.

"This is a special herbal blend. It will help you feel much more the thing." Lady Elsbeth handed Jane the china cup, then drew a chair forward to sit beside the bed. "Serena has written again. She has supplied me with a list of those that accompany her. I may thankfully say it is not a long list."

"Oh?"

Lady Elsbeth nodded. She held up a closely written letter. "Mr. Raymond Burry is, as you may guess, escorting her."

"He has been in her entourage all season. What does Beau Burry see in Lady Serena? Or she in him? He’s neither wealthy, wise, nor—if you consider his corpulence—healthy."

Lady Elsbeth looked reprovingly over the edge of the letter. "Such cynicism does not become you."

Jane waved her hand in apology and request to continue. "Serena also mentions a Lord and Lady Willoughby. "

"Who?"

"Willoughby. She says they’re from somewhere up north. Evidently this is their first trip south. "

"How odd," Jane mused. She took a sip of tea. "Is that all?"

"No. And I’m afraid the last is a name you’ll not like."

"Gracious, such hesitancy in your tone! Dislike more than my two relatives? Impossible, I’m sure. Who could be more unwelcome than Aunt Serena and Cousin Millicent?"

"Sir Garth Helmsdon."

Silence fell between them. Then Jane blinked and rallied. "It appears that of late I’ve been too impetuous," she said lightly. "I did not believe it was possible to ache so after a fall and I did not believe there could be a name more unwelcome to me than my aunt’s and cousin’s. It appears I was wrong." Shadows darkened her eyes. She took a sip of the tea.

"Perhaps he is now dangling after Millicent," Elsbeth offered.

"Oh, I’m sure he is. However, recall that we agree Millicent is likely coming here to throw her cap at Royce. She most likely desires someone to take Helmsdon off her hands. And who would be better than the very woman he so ardently pursued during the season?" Jane asked bitterly.

She handed the cup back to Elsbeth and threw off the covers. Picking up a wrapper from the end of the bed, she jerkily stuffed her arms in and wrapped the garment about her. She began pacing the room, her protesting muscles a bittersweet counterpoint to the pain of her thoughts.

Ardently was perhaps too weak a word to describe Sir Helmsdon’s pursuit for her hand. The man was a gazetted fortune hunter who was desperate to find a match that would relieve him of financial worries. He could have married well into trade, for there were businessmen in abound who would trade their wealth for society’s entree; but Helmsdon was a snob and would do anything to avoid cit’s blood.

It was unfortunate, for the man could be charming when he chose. Nonetheless, as Jane discovered to her dismay, he could also be ruthless and was not above kidnapping or ruination to achieve his goals. He was the true reason she took to her heels and departed London before the season was out. He tried to arrange an assignation designed to insure her ruination unless she married him. What he did not know was that she was wary of all such traps for it was a trap sprung on her in the past that only through happenstance failed. The irony being it was the very trap Aunt Serena attempted to use on her three years before, not to marry her off for some gentleman’s advantage, but to clear the field for her own daughter’s pursuit of another. Mr. David Hedgeworth. When her original plan failed, Lady Serena altered it slightly to lead to a supposed ruination of Millicent at the hands of Mr. Hedgeworth, knowing that the gentleman would do decently by her daughter and solicit her hand in marriage.

Jane rubbed her temples to ease the incipient headache building there. Was there ever such a coil? Who could she get to act as a shield? What could she do to protect herself, for she did not put it past Sir Helmsdon to make an attempt upon her virtue and thereby force her hand. In this Lady Serena Tipton would no doubt aid and abet him.

Then she remembered the apartments on the ground floor.

"Elsbeth, in your opinion would it require much effort on the part of the servants to make the old family apartments habitable?"

"No, not at all. Why?"

"Because that is where we shall be staying for the duration of our guests’ visit."

Jane wouldn’t tell Elsbeth why they must remove to the ground floor rooms; nonetheless, once Lady Elsbeth assayed the heavy oak door with its ornate lock that guarded the entrance to that wing, she began to understand. What puzzled her was Jane’s quiet conviction that such safeguards as distance and a heavy oak barrier were necessary. Sir Helmsdon was an annoyingly persistent suitor, but certainly not one to overstep the bounds of propriety! Still, it wasn’t like Jane to act unwarrantably, and there was her matter-of-fact attitude that argued against any suspicion of hysteria.

That afternoon, as Jane directed the cleaning and organizing of those apartments, there was a certain grimness to her expression not totally explained by her weakened condition. She had just finished directing the movement of certain heavy pieces of furniture when Jeremy came with the information that the Earl of Royce was in the parlor. Lady Elsbeth glanced at her niece worriedly, dubious as to her reception of the information. To her gratification Jane merely directed the servants to carry on and formally suggested Elsbeth accompany her.

"I should be very remiss in my duty if I didn’t!"

"Oh, excuse me, Aunt Elsbeth. I’m sorry. I must seem the most cold individual today. My mind is quite tied up in knots. I’ll own that news of Sir Helmsdon’s eminent appearance has rattled me a bit. It’s just that he was so persistent...." she said, her voice fading away. She shook herself and forced a bright smile to her lips, but it was a smile that failed to reach and warm her icy green eyes. "Will you forgive me? I shall strive to be better. I promise."

Jane saw the worry in her aunt’s eyes and was touched; but she did not feel she could confide the extent of her misgivings surrounding the upcoming visit. She hoped she was wrong, but she suspected that neither Lady Serena Tipton nor Sir Garth Helmsdon intended to act in a totally honorable fashion. She felt like a warrior girding up for battle, checking her defenses, setting strategy, and readying her ammunition. The problem was, she really had no ammunition with which to fight save for the Earl of Royce. And he was at best a keg of dynamite as likely to destroy her as her enemy.

What could he want now? she mused as she tore at the strings of the large white apron that covered her gown. She flung it over her head, tossing it in a hallway chair by a tall pier glass in which she stopped to check her appearance. She patted a stray raven lock back into place, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. The trick to dealing with men like the earl, she told herself, was to be impeccably polite. Such behavior drove them crazy.

She closed her eyes a moment to will a relaxed, calm state in which to greet the earl. Behind her Lady Elsbeth began making slight noises indicating her growing sense of unease. Jane opened her eyes and flashed Lady Elsbeth a smile before taking her arm in hers.

"I’ll not deny the man makes me nervous. Look at me, preening like some fresh debutante! It is simply not to be borne!"

Lady Elsbeth relaxed and smiled in turn. "No, but I’ll own I feel it healthy for you to be thrown off stride a bit. One can become too complacent."

"With Aunt Serena and Sir Helmsdon arriving, complacent is the last thing I could possibly be!" she said, laughing, her eyes warming at last.

"Miss Grantley, it is welcome to see you recovered from your unfortunate accident," drawled the Earl of Royce from the open parlor doorway.

Jane looked up, emotion draining from her features and leaving two bright spots of color in its wake. Royce was dressed in riding attire, his hat and crop tucked under one arm.

"My Lord Royce," she murmured, dipping slightly while extending her hand. "You do me an unexpected honor." Her lashes descended over her eyes, masking the irritation reflected in those twin green pools of light. "Please come in and sit down. May we offer you anything in the way of refreshments?" She gracefully swept past him and sank onto one of the settees. She indicated an invitation to be seated with a brief wave of her hand.

"No, thank you anyway. I do not intend to stay long. I only came by to determine if you or Bertram have lingering complications due to your unfortunate contretemps of yesterday." Taking up a position by the fireplace, he remained standing.

"So kind of you." It rattled her that he stood, looming over them. He was so damned casual and at ease. He wasn’t even dressed properly for visiting!

He laughed shortly. "You’re mistaken. I’m told I’m never kind. Merely curious, meddlesome and presumptuous. A respite from boredom," he drawled.

One of Jane’s eyebrows lifted as she absorbed his enigmatic speech. She rose from her seat and moved about the room, restlessly pacing. An odd, tingling irritation prickled at her nerves. She must regain control. She mustn’t let this man affect her!

"And in my meddlesome, presumptuous, and bored way," he continued, "I am curious as to what you decided regarding punishment for Bertram. "

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I like the lad."

Jane’s lips twitched, but she refused to give in to humor. "I must confess, not knowing what my sister and her husband would say, I let the matter drop."

The earl laughed. "And so the Ice Witch melts."

"Hardly, sir," she said repressively to cover confusion.

"Lord Royce," interrupted Lady Elsbeth. She glanced askance at Jane then continued, her full attention upon the earl. "We are expecting guests in a few days and will be devising entertainments for their enjoyment. May we count upon you to help make up our numbers?"

"Guests?" He frowned a moment. "I did not think you had the notion to entertain here at Penwick."

"Actually, we don’t," Lady Elsbeth candidly confided. "But my sister has autocratically decided otherwise," she continued with a laugh. "She writes that she and some friends will be in the neighborhood for a few days on their way to Brighton. "

Out of the corner of his eye Royce saw a slight frown mar the cold perfection of Miss Grantley’s studied, formal expression. So the upcoming visit did not find favor with the Ice Witch, he thought. Interesting. He wondered why.

"I should be delighted; however, I am expecting company of my own within the next few days," he said, his hands spreading open in apology.

Jane turned swiftly to face him, her skirts swishing at the sudden movement. Red flags flew on her cheeks. She stood rigidly, her hands clasped tightly before her as she stared up at him. "Must you display your prurient interest in the country? Isn’t the city a more apropos setting for that kind of indulgence?" she inquired coldly.

"Jane!" Lady Elsbeth gasped at both the indelicate suggestion and the tone in which it was proposed.

The ice underlying Jane’s words would have given a lesser man pause. The Earl of Royce merely laughed.

She flushed, gnashing her teeth together while the earl gave himself over to unrestrained mirth. Despite her anger and chagrin, Jane could not help but note how relaxed and approachable Royce looked in the throes of laughter. Hardly a devil’s disciple. Laughter even lent his hard, craggy features a certain handsomeness normally missing with his habitual sardonic expression. These observations did not please her. Royce was not a man to like, let alone call friend. And, she told herself, she pitied any woman who called him lover.

"My dear Miss Grantley, you undoubtedly have listened to society’s tales and have allowed your imagination to play upon them. I’m flattered to have come so into your thoughts. But I’m afraid I should disappoint you. My guest is altogether male."

His last word hung heavy in the air like some unspoken threat or impending thunderstorm. Lady Elsbeth shivered at his tone. She glanced at her niece, and noted that Jane blanched as she absorbed his meaning.

Jane bit her lip lightly, silently calling down epithets upon her own head for her unruly tongue. She could not let him see the extent of her discomfiture. Her best defense was to take his words in stride without reading further into them. She tossed her head up and unflinchingly met the earl’s amusement. "My apologies, my lord. Your guest is, of course, welcome as well, should he be inclined, and you gentlemen stand in need of a respite from bachelor fare." The smile she bestowed on him was brilliant in its calculation, and her eyes glittered with gemlike clarity.

He inclined his head, his lips twitching slightly. "We would be honored. And now ladies, if you will permit me, I should like to take Bertram and Edward riding."

"Riding!" Jane’s formal cloak slipped away. She struggled, stammering, to capture its comforting folds. "W—why? I mean, they would like nothing better, to be sure. That is very kind of you—"

"Ah, careful. Remember, I am never kind."

"Then we are all the more at sea," interjected Lady Elsbeth, staring at him with a considering expression in her soft hazel eyes.

"Curiosity, my dear Lady Elsbeth. I find myself curious as to how they fare so surrounded by women."

"But why?" reiterated Jane. "Why this interest and curiosity for a couple of children. They are no relation to you."

"That is plain speaking, is it not?" He sighed and leaned an elbow on the mantel piece. "I have asked myself the same question. The only answer I offer is boredom." He straightened, his expression grave. He stuck his thumbs into his waistcoat pockets. "Contrary to popular opinion, I do not mean the children harm, if that is what you fear. I found I like the lads and, as I admitted, I am bored. And while boredom may be fashionable in London, I’m heartily sick of it."

"Then why stay here?"

"Because I’ve made a commitment. A commitment to my solicitor, my bankers, my estate agent, and to myself." He paced before the hearth. "Six months ago I was approached with an offer to purchase Royceland Hall as the property is unentailed. I thought the offer ridiculously low. I laughed it away. My solicitor—ever so humbly and regretfully—advised me it was a good offer and that I’d not get a better one, for the estate had degenerated in the intervening years. His words were like a bucket of cold water in the face after a night of drinking blue ruin. I was shocked, angry, and suddenly wide awake. I could not let Royceland Hall go for a song. I could not let it be worth so little. So I returned to England and threw myself into the task of consolidating and rebuilding my affairs. And I will succeed," he finished firmly. Then he shook his head in self-disgust and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Diversion is what I desire. From what I have seen of Bertram and Edward, they would make an interesting—and perhaps mildly amusing—diversion. A respite from ledgers and numbers. So you see, I am not being kind, I’m being selfish. Now, will you allow the boys to accompany me, or not?"

Jane glanced at her Aunt Elsbeth, who nodded. She looked back at the earl, her posture still rigid. "Very well. Please be seated while I ring for a servant to collect the boys."

She was strangely gratified to see him finally sit. He set his hat and crop next to him and leaned back, his hands lying relaxed along his muscular thighs.

Jeremy so promptly answered her summons that again Jane wondered if the man had been listening at the keyhole. She would have to break him of that habit or be forced to tell her brother-in-law and possibly see him fired. It was a pity, for the young footman was efficient. She swiftly gave him instructions to fetch the boys. Owing to Jeremy’s penchant for eavesdropping she was confident they would arrive dressed for riding.

While they waited for the children, Royce asked after their expected guests. When hearing Sir Garth Helmsdon was one of the company, he raised an amused eyebrow. "Is Helmsdon still loose? E’gad, what did he do, marry a wealthy cit’s daughter? He was bound for either exile to escape his duns or landing in the Fleet ten years ago!"

Jane’s lips twitched slightly. "I believe he came into a small bequest, which satisfied his creditors for a time."

"Am I to understand they are beginning to hammer at our erstwhile friend’s door again?"

"Rather assiduously, I believe. It is well known he is hanging out for a rich wife, though I do not believe his case is desperate yet. He has not yet reached the state of being unconcerned as to his intended’s appearance or antecedents."

Royce ran two fingers along his jawline, and unconsciously thrust out his chin as if his thoughts had taken on a particularly unpleasant aspect. "I remember Helmsdon." His eyes narrowed at some distant memory. "He was not a man for whom honor held meaning. I trust I do not have to tell you that a desperate man without honor can be more vile than the thieves and cutpurses of London?"

Jane shivered slightly at the cold, granite-hardness in his tone and manner. What was worse was he spoke her unformed thoughts. She was becoming increasingly thankful for the heavy oak door with its large brass lock. If she prevented Helmsdon from manufacturing a compromising situation within the house, and if she refused all invitations to solitary rides or drives, she should realize a large measure of safety. The sudden tightness in her chest eased, allowing her to respond with her legendary sangfroid.

"We believe my cousin Millicent, Mr. David Hedgeworth’s widow, to be his current target. It is she he accompanies here," she said blandly, though a hint of a smile hovered at the edges of her lips.

"And you intend to spoil Helmsdon’s game by informing your cousin of his intentions."

Jane’s eyes opened wide and a rich, rippling laugh escaped her lips.

Royce crossed his arms over his chest, the material of his jacket bunching only slightly at the shoulders for his jackets were cut more for his personal comfort than to the dictates of fashion. He leaned back against the heavy brocade pillows of the settee and cocked his head to the side as he considered Jane.

Lady Elsbeth lowered her needlework to her lap for a moment. "There is no great familial love shared between my nieces," she explained dryly.

Royce looked at Lady Elsbeth, a slight puzzled frown twisting his brows. "Then why have her visit?"

Lady Elsbeth sighed. "My elder sister Serena, Lady Charles Tipton, did not ask, she merely announced. We could not very well turn them away, for this is not our house and they have been guests of Mr. and Mrs. Litton on previous occasions." She started to pick up her needlework, then paused and returned it to her lap. "My sister did write to chastise me for failing to see Jane suitably wed yet. I do hope she has not decided to undertake the task."

"I have already told you, Elsbeth, that I believe she has," Jane said calmly.

Royce would have questioned her further if the sound of running feet outside the closed parlor doors hadn’t pulled his attention away. The sound was followed moments later with the double doors swinging wide and Bertram and Edward, dressed for riding as Jane knew Jeremy would tell them, skidded to a halt inside the room.

"Is it true? Is it really true?" Edward demanded excitedly, scurrying over to the earl.

Royce rose to prevent the boy from launching himself upon him. "Yes, you repulsive whelp," he said, ruffling the boy’s hair to negate any sting in his words.

None was detected, for the child instantly began a recital of the good and bad points of his pony.

"Cut line, you clodhead," interrupted his older brother in disgust. "Ecod, you ain’t even bowed properly yet!" So saying Bertram executed a deep bow that caused him to slightly lose his balance. He stepped back hastily, a blush of red ascending his cheeks.

The earl nodded gravely, pretending not to notice the awkward bobble. "You make a nice leg. Only not so low. I am not of royal blood."

"Yes, sir. No, sir. I mean, yes, sir!" Bertram returned crisply, staring up at Royce with mannish determination to be counted more than a child.

Jane and Elsbeth exchanged covert glances. The earl was hard pressed to maintain his bland countenance. A small tug at the tails of his coat drew his attention back to Edward.

"Like this, sir?" asked Edward. With grim-faced determination he bowed.

"Excellent. Now gentlemen—" The boys squared their shoulders proudly at being dubbed gentlemen. "Shall we bid your lady aunts adieu and be off?"

"Yes, sir!" they chimed and collided with each other in their mutual haste to be the first to say good-bye. They looked as if they each would cut up the other for the accident; but a quick glance up at the earl forestalled their habitual bickering. They said good-bye in a rush, darting for the door.

The earl moved more leisurely, an open smile now curving his lips and lighting his dark eyes, eliminating their habitual shadows. "I shall take care of them and see they come to no harm."

Jane nodded slowly, a wry smile dispelling her wintery, remote expression. "I have no concern for their welfare; but I fear it is your own I should bear concern for," she teased, looking up at him in a far more friendly fashion than she was wont.

"I should be honored." He bowed formally.

Jane started, a bright blush of color again sweeping across her pale complexion. The sincerity of his response rattled her calm. Immediately she swept her invisible mantle of protection about herself, her expression cooling.

Royce wanted to kick himself for sending her back into her world of ice and snow. He would need to take better care with this one if he wished to tear down her barriers. Swiftly, giving no indication that he sensed a change in Jane’s manner, he bid both ladies good-bye, again reassuring them as to their young relatives’ safety, and followed the children out the door.

Lady Elsbeth clasped her hands over her needlework and sat staring at Jane, her head cocked in a considering fashion.

Jane bristled, her mouth working as though she thought to say one thing or another and ended by discarding them all. Finally they saw the small party pass by the large window of the parlor, Royce tipping his hat toward them as he passed. "The man is certainly an odd fish. I wonder if we do trust the children in his company."

"Certainly we do," returned Elsbeth. "But if he means to pursue their company, I wonder at Serena’s reaction. "And to your own, though I’d not say that to you, Elsbeth thought. She picked up her needlework, pulling her needle free as she considered the pattern growing beneath her fingers. "At all events, our bucolic, peaceful existence here at Penwick will never be the same."

Jane had no response for that, for she feared Elsbeth to be right.