Page 2 of The Defiant Governess
“Oh fustian,” jeered Thomas. “Since when has your maid or any of the servants done anything but indulge you at every turn? You have them all in your pocket, as well you know.”
“That’s not true,” she protested. “James was quite cross with me … I think it was last month when I—” She paused and suddenly looked at him pensively. “Do you think I’m spoiled?”
Thomas thought for a moment. “I think there are times when you don’t think of the consequences of your actions ….”
“Excuse me, Lady Jane.” Grimshaw, the family’s butler ever since Jane could remember had been standing patiently in the entrance hall, but as the friendly bantering between the two young people showed no signs of abating he was finally forced to interrupt.
“Oh, halloo, Grimshaw. Forgive our bad manners for not greeting you earlier but Thomas and I have been engaged in a most important discussion.” She turned to her brother. “Grimshaw most certainly doesn’t indulge me.” She looked back at the butler. “Do you, Grimshaw?”
Grimshaw gazed sternly at her, repressing the twitch at the corners of his mouth. “Certainly not, Lady Jane. Most improper it would be of me.”
Jane grinned triumphantly. “There, you see!”
Thomas only rolled his eyes.
“Now, milady,” said Grimshaw before the two younger members of the family could begin some other lark. “Your father asked that you go to see him in the library as soon as you returned.”
Jane shot a questioning look at her brother. “I wonder what—” She made a face. “You don’t think he heard about me racing your curricle against Lord Cranston last week, do you? Johnny was such a beast to insist no lady could drive prime cattle.”
“Shhhhh,” hissed Thomas. “Let us hope not!”
“Lady Hepplestone was here earlier,” added Grimshaw. His face was impassive but the slight sniff at the end of his words indicated his opinion of the person in question.
“Now, what mischief has Aunt Bella been wreaking?” muttered Jane. “Why she can’t mind her own children’s affairs and leave us in peace. Lord knows, with six to tend to …”
“Sixboringones,” interrupted Thomas.
“Sixhenwittedones,” added Jane.
“Lady Jane!” The butler’s stentorian tone filled the hall. “Your father said NOW!”
“Very well,” she sighed. Tugging at her jacket and skirts to restore some semblance of neatness, she stared towards the library. After a few steps she turned back to Thomas. “You don’t thinksheheard about the curricle?”
“Lord help us both if that’s the case. I can’t begin to imagine the set-down we’ll both receive if that is the case.”
Both of them stood in silent contemplation of the ghastly thought until Grimshaw drew himself up to his full imperious height and pointed meaningfully down the hallway.
Jane hurried away, leaving the butler to silently curse the meddlesome relative who always seemed to cause trouble for the young mistress of the house.
Her father was seatedat his desk, head bent over some papers as Jane quietly entered the library. For a moment he was unaware of her presence and she found herself wondering why he had never remarried as she studied his handsome profile. His hair, though completely grey, was still thick, with the sort of wavy curl that many young Pinks of thetonspent hours in front of a mirror trying to achieve. His shoulders, broad and unbent with age, filled out the cut of his stylish coat as well as those of a younger man. And the eyes studying the documents were still sharp and penetrating—sometimes too much so, she thought with a wry smile.
Henry James Sebastian Stanhope, the fifth Duke of Avanlea, looked up at his daughter. “Take a seat, Jane.”
She immediately knew that something was very wrong. Even in his rare fits of temper there was always a certain look inhis eyes, one acknowledging what they both knew—that she was the light of his life. Now suddenly it was missing, replaced by something she couldn’t fathom—she who understood his moods better than anyone.
Shaken and not knowing what else to do, she smiled as if unaware of the tension in the room. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting Papa, but Thomas and I were?—”
“Were racing—neck and leather I’ve no doubt—around the countryside like two unbridled hellions,” finished her father.
Racing, thought Jane. Then perhaps she was wrong and this was just about the curricle race. She cleared her throat. “I understand Aunt Bella was here earlier. If she told you about ….”
“She told me nothing about any of your latest escapades. Just the usual dire warning that I have sadly mismanaged your upbringing.”
“That’s unfair,” exclaimed Jane. “Why can’t Aunt Bella mind her own affairs! I’ve had a perfectly wonderful upbringing …” She abruptly paused in mid-sentence. “Then why are you so upset with me? What have I done? Surely you can’t be angry because Thomas and I have had a rousing gallop. Why, we’ve been doing that for years.”
“What have you done?” said her father in a quiet tone that belied the anger in his eyes. “Your aunt has informed me that the Duke of Branwell asked your permission to court you—and that you turned him down. Is this true?”
Jane was thoroughly perplexed. “Why, yes—I did.”
