Page 100 of The Heir
Chapter 44
It had taken Jane hours to recover enough nerve to walk across the green to the palace. She’d even welcomed the rain, because the cold and the wind and Betty’s complaints helped drown out her own thoughts.
Ned had fought a duel. Ned had killed a man. Dr. Maton knew it. Ned had been paying Dr. Maton for years.
First, Jane had just gone home. Ned was not there, and she was relieved. She knew she would have to confront him eventually. But what on earth would she say?
She had no idea. She was so cold. So shaken. So afraid of all the things she did not know.
And now this.
The princess wasn’t walking. She was marching. She stayed on the gravel pathways, but she splashed straight through the puddles. Her slippers would be ruined, and her feet soaked, and the duchess would need her smelling salts when she saw it.
It was childish defiance, but it was her own. It was the princess doing as she always did—making herself seen in whatever way she could.
Jane found herself wearily admiring those frustrated splashes. Then the princess stopped. She hung her head, and she turned. She came running back and grabbed both Jane’s hands.
“Jane, I’m so sorry. Something’s happened to you, and with that horrid letter and this business with the tour, I haven’t even thought to ask where you were this morning. Are you all right?”
Jane looked down at their hands.
“No,” she said. “I don’t think I am.”
“Did you find something in Sir John’s desk?”
She heard the tight, hopeful note in the princess’s voice. She wanted there to be something she could use against Father. Something that would allow her to refuse to leave on the tour and that would convince the duchess to take the king’s offer.
“There were letters, but before I could read them, my brother found me. He took them. He—” Jane choked. She was going to cry.
“Jane?” said the princess gently. “I swear, you can tell me anything. Please.”
Jane stared straight ahead, seeing nothing. She could lie. She could insist it was private. She could keep what she knew to herself, as she had always done. It would be easier. It would be better.
“I spoke with Susan this morning,” Jane said. “After my brother caught me in the study. She told me . . .” She swallowed. The world seemed to blur at the edges of her vision. “I . . . I think my brother killed Dr. Maton.”
Chapter 45
Victoria was aware she should be shocked. Perhaps she should even be morbidly, terribly delighted. This was, after all, what she had longed to hear. This was something Mama could never ignore or brush away.
But she looked at Jane’s misery, and all she could think to do was enfold the other girl in her strongest embrace. Jane was so startled, she stiffened. Then, slowly, tentatively, she wrapped her arms around Victoria and hugged her back. She sobbed once. And then she stepped away.
Victoria yanked her handkerchief out of her sleeve and handed it to Jane. Jane wiped her eyes.
“Tell me what happened,” said Victoria.
Jane looked behind them. Of course she did. They needed to be careful. Even now, even here, someone might be listening.
And we do not have much time.
Victoria pressed her hand. Jane squeezed her fingers.
“My brother, Ned, he gambles. He . . . It seems, I heard, he accused someone of cheating, and they fought a duel.”
Victoria held her hand firmly, willing Jane to be strong.
“The other man died. Ned was wounded. The doctor . . . the doctor they had on the site was Dr. Maton. They brought him home—” She stopped.
“Jane, what is it?”
