Page 55 of The Defiant Governess
“Thank you, Doctor. I shall see you out.” Saybrook rose stiffly and walked towards the door of his bedchamber.
Hastings followed. “Mind you,” he admonished. “You must take it slowly, with plenty of rest, or I’ll not vouch for your health.”
Saybrook nodded. “I shall take full responsibility for my actions.”
That night he sat before the fire, mulling over a neatly folded piece of paper. William Coachman had done his job well. Miss Langley had taken a coach from Tunbridge Wells to Finchley. From there, another one to Hartsdale. A hired cart had completed the journey. A slight smile came to his lips. A country squire, she had said. Indeed! It was no wonder that her bearing was so different from that of any other country miss, having spent her childhood under the eye of the Duke of Avanlea! William had made discreet inquiries and had learned that yes, a Langley family was one of the duke’s tenants, and that their daughter had been childhood friends with the duke’s only daughter, a grand heiress in her own right.
Saybrook looked up from William’s notes. The minx! Why, he should box her ears for spinning such a Banbury tale. He thought of the look of indignation that would flare in her eyes and smiled again.How he missed her!Then he caught himself.Would it be indignation or some stronger emotion? What would she think if he appeared in her life again? Surely she must hold him in contempt, and yet ….
He shook his head. Whatever she felt, he had made up his mind. He would not
be shaken in his resolve to make sure she was alright. Tomorrow he would leave for Avanlea. He would speak to the duke himself about using his influence with Jane’s father to insure that she would not be forced into marriage, for surely His Grace, if he knew, wouldn’t want such a thing for his daughter’s childhood friend.
Saybrook gazed into the fire. He would also contrive to put Jane in possession of enough funds that she would not have to go into service again. The mere idea of some gentleman casting a designing look at her set his teeth on edge. Perhaps it could be a bequest from a long lost relative, or …
No matter, he would think of something.
He must also see her one last time to explain he had never intended anything improper, had never meant to insult her integrity or virtue. Somehow, it was terribly important that she know, regardless of how difficult the words would be. More than once, he had tried to tell her before she left, but his emotions had been buried away for so long that he couldn’t seem to bring them forth. A sigh escaped his lips as he put down his glass and made to retire for the night.
Peter satat the top of the stairs and stared balefully at the trunk sitting near the door. “You’re leaving,’ he said without looking up as Saybrook came down the hallway.
“Only for a short time, imp.”
The boy hunched his shoulders. “No! You’ll be just like Miss Jane and go away and never come back.” He was fighting to keep a sob from breaking his voice.
Saybrook reached down and scooped Peter into his arms. “Look at me, Peter.”
A small, tear-stained face turned to him, the lower lip trembling slightly.
“I promise you I shall be back, and soon.” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “As if I could leave you, brat,” he added in a husky whisper.
Peter put his good arm around Saybrook’s neck and snuffled. “But I’ll miss you, Uncle Edward. I don’t want you to go!”
Saybrook sighed in frustration. The poor lad. The last few weeks had been very hard for him as well. There was suddenly the sound of running feet and the rustle of skirts. He turned around.
“Oh, Your Lordship,” said Mary breathlessly.” I’ve been looking for Master Peter everywhere! Forgive me for allowing him to bother you.” The girl was twisting her hands nervously. “I don’t know how he manages to slip away.”
“Never mind,” interrupted the marquess. “Be so good as to pack a valise of Peter’s things. He shall be accompanying me.”
The boy gave a squeal of delight,
“Milord, will you be wanting me to pack as well?” Mary was totally flustered at the idea. “Certainly you’ll be needing someone to look after him.”
“That will not be necessary.”
The girl appeared uncertain. “Begging your pardon, sir, but who’ll dress him and feed him? It’s not fitting that you should have to handle that all on your own.”
“I believe that since Briarly is capable of keeping me up to snuff, he should be up to the task of dressing an eight-year-old. And Peter has already proven to me he is perfectly capable of dining in a civilized manner. We shall manage quite well.”
He put the boy down. “Now go along with Mary and get ready. We’ve delayed leaving long enough.”
“Where are we going?” called Peter as Saybrook started down the stairs.
“You’ll see soon enough, imp.”
Jane ranher hand over the exquisite fabric of her new ballgown. Madame Jeannette, the local seamstress, was considered as talented with a needle as any of the top modistes in London, and she prided herself on being au courant on the very latest styles. And her current creation did nothing to diminish her sterling reputation. The dress was of a pale blue watered silk that complemented the color of Jane’s eyes and the hue of her hair, golden once again now that she had ceased rinsing it in walnut leaves. The bodice was cut low enough to reveal her creamy shoulders without being improper for a girl of her years, and the fitted waist and deftly set skirts set off her slender figure to perfection. A simple white sarcenet overskirt and a minimum of darker blue ribbons threaded at the hem were all the embellishments that were needed.
Her abigail had been in raptures when it arrived earlier in the day, declaring that Jane would be the belle of the ball. And even Jane had to admit that it looked rather well on her.
