Page 53 of The Heir
Jane made her decision. “I had someplace I wished to go, but I did not want my father to know,” she said. “A servant of ours had been dismissed without wages. I didn’t think she deserved it. I wanted to see if I could help her and to give her some money. I couldn’t let Father know, so I asked Her Highness to send me on an errand.”
“That was very thoughtful of you.” Lehzen cocked her head toward Jane, and Jane got the impression the governess was trying to see her with fresh eyes. “Miss Conroy, I realize that despite all the time we have spent together, we do not know each other well. That is in part my fault, and I find I regret it now.”
“You regret it because now you don’t know if you can trust me.”
“Yes,” replied Lehzen. “Just so.”
The calm answer surprised Jane. She assumed Lehzen would try to cover up her true meaning with some platitude about wanting to be friends.
“But it is more than that,” Lehzen went on. “I don’t know if Her Highness can trust you.”
“She believes that she can.”
“She has been very sheltered.”
Jane felt her mouth twitch. “Has she, ma’am? Has she really?”
They sat like that for a while, holding each other’s gaze, cups and saucers forgotten in their hands, the table and their mutual silence between them.
Jane drew a sharp breath. She braced herself. “Ma’am, what do you think is happening?” She spoke quickly, as if she needed to get the words out before someone caught her. “Why did my father lie about Dr. Maton?”
“I don’t know,” said Lehzen. “I was hoping you might.”
Jane shook her head. “All I know is that he came to dinner at our house with the men of the Kensington board. But you see everything. You watch everyone for the princess. What was Dr. Maton’s relationship to my father?”
“Well, let me see. I know that Dr. Maton was always the duchess’s first choice to attend the princess, which, I admit, surprised me.”
“Why?” asked Jane.
“Because he attended her husband on his deathbed. I am not sure I would choose the doctor who failed to save my husband to look after the health of my child.”
Jane hadn’t known Dr. Maton had been there when the duke died. “Was it my father’s idea? To have Dr. Maton look out for the princess?”
“He did not object certainly.”
“But did Father want him? Did he choose him?”
“Is the distinction important?”
“It could be.” Jane knew she was betraying her father a little more with each word. She was explaining him to his enemy, talking out loud about things that weren’t even supposed to be whispered.
But she kept talking.
“If Father just lets a thing happen, it’s because he believes it’s harmless. If he encourages it, it’s because he believes it will help some plan of his. So, if he urged the duchess to make sure it was Dr. Maton who attended the princess . . .”
“It was because he personally had reason to trust or to use Dr. Maton,” Lehzen finished for her.
Jane nodded. “Father gossips to people about the princess’s behavior, about her weakness.”
“And perhaps he believed that Dr. Maton was one who could be counted on to agree with his assessments?”
“Or at least that he could be convinced not to contradict them,” Jane said.
“Convinced,” echoed Lehzen. “An interesting word.”
“Did you ever hear Dr. Maton go along with my father’s lies?” She felt reckless speaking this way. Dangerous. She was appalled. She was also elated.
“There was one time,” said Lehzen. “I came upon them unexpectedly. I had been looking for her grace . . .”
