Page 30 of Sinful Persuasion of a Lady in the Making
“Your nightgown is on the chair, Miss Jones. If you stand, I—”
“Go away, Fanny,” Jenny said.
“But you will need me to help you undress, and—”
Jenny leaped up from the bed and turned to face the poor maid. Fanny immediately stepped forward, seemingly urgent in her actions. Jenny shoed her away and pulled at the ties of her gown until it was loose enough for her to get out of.
“See?” she said, snapping unfairly at the girl. “I can manage.”
Fanny, in her consummate professionalism, said nothing, but found herself behind Jenny and began to unlace her stays, tight-lipped and determined.
Jenny felt herself sag with sadness. She had not meant to take her annoyance out on Fanny. It was not her she was angry at, but she was an easier target than her brother, and she was there.
I am becoming just like them, she thought sadly.
“Thank you,” she said, as Fanny wordlessly helped her out of her undergarments and into her nightgown.
“Is there anything else I can get you before I go see to Lady Alison?” Fanny asked, unable to get out of the habit of calling her employer Lady rather than Mrs.
“No, thank you,” Jenny said, soft and sad. “I’m sorry if I have been rude. I am a little emotional this evening.”
Fanny nodded her understanding and smiled sweetly, then she left, closing the door quietly behind her.
Jenny turned and picked up the gown that she had carelessly thrown on the floor during her tantrum, and with a sigh went to fold it over the back of her chair, where her nightgown had been only moments before.
As she did so, though, something fell out and floated gently to the floor, some clutch of white fabric, delicately embroidered around its edge, and with the initialsSN.
Lord Hartwood’s handkerchief!
She picked it up and instantly held it to her cheek, the moisture long-ago dried, just as her tears had from his kindness. It was clean, but it was well-worn and soft, and she caught a whiff of his scent on it—something manly and rich, like earth that had just been tilled. She smiled down at it as though, through it, she could somehow send him a smile, a word of thanks, something of a reassurance.
Despite everything they told me, I still find your company entrancing.
She climbed onto the bed, handkerchief still in her hands, her eyes still on the handkerchief, and she let herself fall back, not even bothering to pull up the blankets. She lay, curled on her side, the handkerchief held to her face, letting memories of a kind and interesting man lull her to sleep.
