A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle (120 page)

Finally, hours after the ball had
finished, Peter’s house was returned to something resembling
normal. He went to the antechamber situated off his library, sat
down in the leather covered armchair by the fire, and poured
another tumbler of whiskey.

He only wished he could be with Neil
at Carreg Mawr when the magistrate confronted Utley and Turnpenny,
in order to truly taste the victory. Instead, he would be here,
marrying yet another woman he never intended to marry.

Devil take it.

~ * ~

After further discussion, Jane and
Sophie decided it was better to wait until the house was quiet
tonight, and then sneak Jane out to move to her storefront while
the household slept. Even if the household servants didn’t try to
stop them or say something to Peter or Cousin Henrietta, surely one
of the many members of the Hardwicke family would notice something
afoot. Neil, in particular, seemed to somehow notice everything,
even though he was rarely present.

No, Jane couldn’t simply prance out
the front door dragging a trunk of her belongings behind her. She
also couldn’t make it to Bond Street with her trunk on her own. A
carriage was an absolute necessity. But not one of Peter’s
carriages. She couldn’t risk waking the grooms and having one of
them let information slip, or she’d end up right where she had
started—being trapped into an unwanted marriage.

Sophie suggested hiring a hackney,
which, after much hemming and hawing, they decided was their best
course of action. Meg, having been sworn to secrecy, volunteered to
go out in search of one—but only after enough time had passed that
they could reasonably assume no one would wake. In the meanwhile,
all three co-conspirators set to work packing those items Jane
simply must take with her, with Mr. Cuddlesworth overseeing their
work. He lay in his basket, which was situated on the four-poster
bed beside them, with his head propped over the edge to watch their
every movement.

“
Anything that doesn’t fit
into your trunk,” Sophie said, “we can arrange to have delivered to
you later on. In fact, I’ll personally bring it all to you—when I
come to assist you in opening your shop.”

“
You’re still planning to
come then? Oh, but your mother will be murderous when she hears of
your plan.”

Meg chuckled and folded another of
Jane’s shifts. “Her Grace won’t take the news well, but I hardly
think she’ll kill anyone. Least of all her daughter.”

“
Besides,” Sophie said,
“her reaction to me wanting to help you won’t be anywhere near as
explosive as her reaction to your leaving and denying to marry
Peter. She thinks of you as her daughter already, you know, and
Peter...well, she’s
desperate
to see him married.”

“
You mean she’s desperate
to see
all
of us
married.” Jane grimaced. “Do you really think she’ll be cross with
me?”

“
Cross with you?” Sophie
lifted a brow. “Sweetheart, the only thing you need worry about
more than her reaction is Peter’s.”

Jane frowned. “But I told you he
wouldn’t care.”

“
And I told you that you
were wrong.” Sophie rolled her eyes heavenward in Meg’s direction.
“Honestly, you’d think she would realize I know my brothers rather
well after all of these years.”

Meg fixed a pitying gaze on Jane.
“Well, I believe I should be on my way to fetch that hackney coach.
The trunk is about as full as it will go.”

Sophie nodded at her, then turned to
Jane. “You’re certain about this?”

“
Positive,” she replied,
despite the crickets hopping about in her stomach.

“
Very well.”

Meg started toward the door. “I’ll
direct your coach to the side of the house.” Then she spun and was
gone in the dark stillness of the mansion house.

“
Meg asked me if she could
go with you,” Sophie said after several moments had passed. She
reached a hand over and stroked Mr. Cuddlesworth’s head, eliciting
a purr so loud it was almost a roar. “She can’t stand the thought
of you being completely alone there, with no one to see after your
needs.”

“
I’m perfectly
capable—”

“
I told her she absolutely
must. If Peter won’t continue to pay her wages, I will. It would be
a good use for my pin money…being sure you’re well looked
after.”

Jane hefted a sigh. “If I’m going to
have a servant, then I’ll pay her myself. But I refuse to have a
servant.” Good gracious, had everyone forgotten that she’d lived
her entire life with only a single servant for the entire family?
She could manage quite well without any help, at least in that
area. Jane threw the last few things she had been fiddling with
into the chest and slammed the door closed.

“
I’m afraid you’ll be
greatly disappointed, then. Meg and I refuse to allow you to leave
this house if you don’t take Meg with you.” Sophie reached out and
stilled Jane’s hands, which were fumbling with the latches. “You
need someone with you. Think of her as a companion, if you will. It
isn’t safe for you to be completely alone.”

“
I won’t be alone. I’ll
have Mr. Cuddlesworth with me.”

Sophie frowned and lifted a brow. “And
what will he do to assist you? Purr at any intruders who try to
accost you? Sink his claws into Lady High-in-the-Instep’s gown, so
she’ll have to purchase a new one?”

Drat, Sophie was right. Jane took a
deep breath to calm her nerves. “Fine. Meg can come. Perhaps I can
use her assistance in the shop, too. She could take measurements
and such.”

Her friend smiled. “That’s an
excellent idea. I would feel better, as well, if you had a butler
of sorts. A man to offer you some protection.”

“
Sophie...” She wished she
had been able to better hide the irritation seeping through her
voice. It sounded more like a warning than she intended.

“
I won’t take a chance with
my luck tonight. We’ll discuss it further when I come to help you
set up your shop.”

By this point, Jane knew that “discuss
it further” coming from Lady Sophia Hardwicke meant she would
arrive with a vast array of candidates for the position, and push
and prod until Jane allowed one of them to stay.

Argument would be
fruitless.

Lovely. And just
how
was she supposed to
pay the wages of not only Meg, but also a footman? Yes, Sophie
would offer to pay them. But that wasn’t the point. The point was
that this was Jane’s shop, Jane’s livelihood. Sophie could always
rely on her brother to care for her if she needed it. Her pin money
alone was more than Jane ever hoped to earn in a year from her
dress making.

She wanted to prove she could do this
on her own. To prove it to herself.

A carriage creaked by outside the
window, pulling Jane out of her worries. She dashed to see if it
was the hackney, but the driver kept going past where Meg would
have stopped.

She held back a curtain and took a
breath of the cool, fresh air. A hint of rain danced against her
nostrils. Hopefully they would arrive soon. The thought of carrying
her trunk alone had her worried, but doing it in the rain? It would
be a farce of unparalleled measure.

Her thoughts turned to Peter again.
Blast the man. Why must he constantly be at the forefront of her
mind? “Why do you believe Peter will be unhappy that I’ve left?”
she asked so quietly she was unsure if Sophie had heard.

“
You may love my brother,
Jane,” she responded after a moment, “but you truly don’t know him
very well.” She sighed. “He is a very proud man. The only things he
holds in higher esteem than his honor are his family and
duty.”

“
Duty
.” He felt she was his duty—his responsibility. His charge.
Had he not said that very thing to her at the first ball of the
Season?

She would be damned before she would
be his burden to bear.

“
Yes. Duty. Admittedly,
sometimes he is blinded by his duties.” Sophie walked to stand
beside her at the window and looked her plainly in the eyes.
“Nevertheless, he now considers you part of his family, and
therefore he sees it as his responsibility to protect you—your
virtue. He would count it as a mark against his honor if he
can’t.”

“
I don’t need his
protection.” And she bloody well didn’t want it, either.

“
By leaving—by rejecting
his protection—you’ll also prevent him from maintaining his honor.
That’s how he’ll see it.” Sophie turned her stare to the cobbled
street below. “I believe your hackney has arrived.”

“
But...why are you helping
me to do this if it will hurt your brother so egregiously?”
Sophie’s relationship with Peter had always seemed to be so loving,
albeit in a provoking manner. Playful. Certainly never truly
mean-spirited or hurtful.

With a single hand, Sophie brushed a
stray curl away from Jane’s face and tucked it behind her ear, a
slow, gentle smile forming on her lips. “My brother is a good man,
Jane. But there are many things he has yet to learn. Like it or
not, I believe you’re meant to be his teacher.”

Meg stole back into the room then,
flushed from her brief excursion. “Miss, we’re all ready to go.”
She had already brought a valise in with them. Jane supposed it
must hold some of Meg’s possessions. “The driver wanted to come in
and carry your trunk out, but I insisted he stay outside of the
house. His boots would surely wake someone. We’ll simply have to
carry it ourselves.”

Which they proceeded to do. Jane
settled Mr. Cuddlesworth’s basket on top of the trunk. Meg carried
her own valise and one end of the trunk, while Sophie and Jane
jointly lifted the other end .

They had a brief scare when Jane
tripped slightly at the bottom of the stairs, but thankfully no one
called out. They simply scurried along and got out the door where
the hackney driver took the trunk from them.

“
All right, I suppose this
is it, then,” Jane said. “Are you ready, Meg?”

“
Yes, miss.”

“
I’ll call on you tomorrow,
if I can,” said Sophie. “It may take a few days for Mama and Peter
to recover from the shock, though, so don’t be surprised if I don’t
arrive until later in the week.”

“
Sophie?” Jane said. The
crickets in her stomach had just turned into frogs. She had thought
she would be excited about her adventure. Not scared. Double drat.
“You’ll be all right, won’t you? I mean, once they find out that
you’ve helped me. And that you intend to continue helping
me.”

Good Lord, it sounded like she thought
they might hurt her for offering her assistance.

“
I can promise you,” came
Sophie’s response. “No one will die over this.”

How terribly reassuring.

~ * ~

Peter was so tired when he returned to
Hardwicke House after his visit with the Bishop of Canterbury that
he felt ready to fall over where he stood. Despite how much he had
accomplished last night, his day today was still far from
complete.

Instead of even attempting to take a
nap, he slipped back into his antechamber and poured himself
another glass of whiskey and. He sat there before the empty
fireplace, nursing his thoughts and his whiskey.

It wouldn’t be so terrible to be
married to Jane. True, she hadn’t been bred to be the wife of a
peer—indeed, far from it. But there was a lively glow about her. He
doubted he would ever be bored with her. Annoyed, certainly, at
least from time to time. Even perplexed, perhaps. But never
bored.

He should be thankful Utley had chosen
Jane as his victim this time, and not the boring Lady Helene, or
one of the several widowed vultures who had been chasing after him
since the beginning of the Season.

The events of late could certainly
have worked out much less in his favor than they actually had.
Still, it was a miserable fate he was now forced to drag Jane
into—one she certainly had no desire to see through. She’d made her
feelings on the matter easy enough to decipher.

He hated that she would be locked into
a marriage, the thought of which so obviously repulsed her. But
really, would she have been better with Utley? Hardly.

Peter would be a good husband to her.
He would treat her well, and she would want for nothing. That was
far better than a number of women in Society marriages could
expect. She should be grateful.

Alas, he couldn’t force Jane to
appreciate his efforts at preserving her virtue. For that matter,
he couldn’t insist that she be happy and expect her to comply. He
would simply have to do everything in his power to ensure her
contentment within their marriage.

Spenser knocked at the door to Peter’s
antechamber and announced that luncheon was served. Peter merely
nodded and headed that way, double checking the inner pocket of his
waistcoat to be certain the license remained where he had placed
it.

His footman (who had, blessedly,
returned to his proper position) opened the double doors before him
and announced his arrival.