Page 86 of The Heir
“I know what you’re thinking,” said Liza. “And yes, he gets away with it because he’s a man, and it’s not fair, and it never will be, and there’s nothing we can do about it but get on as best we can.” That wasn’t at all what Jane was thinking, but Liza clearly was not interested in hearing anything from her. “I’m in a dreadful hurry, Jane. Miss Schumann’s sending round her carriage, and I have to be ready to go. Can you loan me anything?”
Jane looked at Liza and saw she was lying. Whatever she had planned, it was much more than going to stay with her friend and her friend’s family for a few days.
Liza looked back and silently begged her not to ask any questions.
Jane went to her wardrobe and opened the bottom drawer. She pulled out a roll of itchy wool stockings, the sort meant to be worn only on the very coldest days. Inside that roll was a small, plain bag, and inside the bag was five years of unspent pin money.
She’d never been quite sure what she was squirreling it all away for, but it had always made her feel obscurely better to know that it was there.
She counted fifty pounds and held the notes out to Liza.
Liza looked at the money and swallowed. But she took it and folded it into her reticule.
“Thank you, Jane,” she croaked without turning around.
“If there’s anything—”
Liza shook her head. “No. There’s nothing you can do. Well, you can ring the bell. These things have to be gotten downstairs.” She paused. “Oh, and be careful of Betty, won’t you? Mama pays her to spy.”
“I know,” said Jane. “I’m paying her to keep quiet.”
Liza blinked. “So am I.”
They both giggled. Jane turned away to ring the bell before Liza could see the tears that had begun to form.
Now Liza seemed to be having trouble with her bonnet’s ribbon. Jane rolled her eyes and took charge, tying a pretty bow under Liza’s chin.
“Will you write?” Jane asked. “Between card games?”
Liza smiled and pressed her hand. “I’ll leave something at the post office, all right? And I will pay you back, I promise.”
Jane nodded.
There was no time for anything else. Meg and Paul, the footman, arrived to take the luggage downstairs. Liza embraced Jane quickly, picked up her reticule, and scurried out the door.
Jane’s ears had begun ringing. She felt oddly light. She floated to the door and closed it and then drifted to the sofa and sat softly down.
Alone in her empty sitting room, Jane opened her bruised heart as wide as it would go and wished her sister good luck.
Chapter 38
Another dinner. Another concert. Another night when the ability to simply enjoy the performance—to dream and to soar for the length of the concerto—was denied.
The guest list was familiar and expected—visiting princes, selected lords of Parliament and their wives. A friend of Mama’s. A friend of Sir John’s.
What was different was that Mama was not enjoying herself, either. Usually she was firmly about her business during dinner. She talked, laughed, and expertly directed the chatter and gossip where she wished them to go. She showed off Victoria from all her best angles.
Tonight she was distracted and distant. So much so that Victoria overheard Lady Cowper asking if the duchess was quite well.
Victoria watched, and she wondered about it. Lord Dunham had been to visit earlier but had not waited to say a word to her. The only reason she knew he had come at all was that Lehzen had managed to slip a note into Wordsworth’s poems.
Had he told Mama about the possibility of a separate household for Victoria? Was Mama afraid of being set aside? She had always said Their Majesties hated her. All of Father’s family hated her. Did she think Victoria would not be able to stop her from being left behind?
Does she think I won’t even try to stop that? Because I would. Of course I would. I love her. It’s only that I need to get her away from Sir John.
These thoughts circled round Victoria’s head, drowning out the music and distracting her from other important facts. Like the fact that Aunt Sophia came to the concert and brought Uncle Sussex with her.
Aunt Sophia sat in the corner, as usual, right beside her maid and waiting woman. When the recital was over and everyone was mingling to talk, she ricocheted from group to group, as she always did.
