Jack (The Jaded Gentlemen Book 4) (3 page)

“Perhaps you should dissuade your mother from visiting at such a dreary time of year,” Madeline said. “You might remove to London
yourself, and thus have the ability to come and go at the times of your own choosing.”

Mr. Belmont poured his wife a second cup of tea and helped himself to a lemon biscuit. “Mothers, in my experience, don’t take kindly to
attempts to dodge an inspection. If Sir Jack went on evasive maneuvers, she’d redouble her pursuit.”

“Quite,” Sir Jack said. “Though I suspect Belmont’s older sons would attribute the same tenacity to their own dear papa, whose
fixity of purpose puts one in mind of a cocklebur. Miss Hennessey, might I tempt you into a position as my mother’s temporary companion? You could
reconnoiter the situation below stairs, gather intelligence, confer with Mrs. Belmont, and make some suggestions? I would be most grateful.”

Madeline did not want Sir Jack’s gratitude, nor did she care for his own impersonation of a cocklebur.  

“You really must take pity on a clueless bachelor,” Mr. Belmont said. “One has a Christian duty, Miss Hennessey, and the members of Sir
Jack’s staff will thank you for it. A household in disarray is not a happy situation.”

Madeline had no use for happy situations, though she did fancy having a roof over her head and a meal or two each day. She did not fancy a post under Sir
John Dewey Fanning’s roof.

“I am flattered, of course,” Madeline said, “but the nursery maids here are both new to their duties, and with colder weather
approaching—”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Belmont interjected. “You’ve trained them wonderfully, and the baby is thriving. You made an excellent
ladies’ maid when I was widowed, and you were the housekeeper’s right hand here at Candlewick before that. Your aunties treasure you, though
they hardly have a kind word to say about anybody. A temporary change of scene will do you good.”

More beaming went on, while Madeline wanted to pitch this brilliant idea through the window. The Belmonts were good, kind people with whom Madeline could
speak her mind. They valued a cheerful staff and yet tolerated no misbehavior toward the female domestics.

Madeline
liked
them. The realization was disconcerting, particularly when she did not like Sir Jack.

Though she didn’t
dislike
him, exactly.

“You are not taken with the idea,” Sir Jack said, a monumental understatement. “I am prepared to be generous, Miss Hennessey. Desperately
generous. You see before you a man with no pride.”

Madeline saw before her a man with no scruples and less charm. “Part of the reason your household is at sixes and sevens, Sir Jack, is because
you’re the magistrate. You hold parlor sessions some weeks, but not others. Your schedule isn’t your own, and if a serious matter comes before
you, it absorbs all of your attention. Mr. Belmont was the same way when he was the magistrate.”

“She’s right,” Mr. Belmont said, around a mouthful of shortbread. “Damned job wrecks a fellow’s peace when folk are naughty.
When livestock are naughty too. Your mama won’t be keen on you riding off at all hours to investigate the love life of Hattie Hennessey’s
ewes.”

“Belmont,” Sir Jack said, “need I remind you from whom I inherited the magistrate’s position?”

“And you’ve never thanked me for stepping down, you ingrate. Miss Hennessey will take pity on you, because she’s soft-hearted.”

That was the outside of too much. “I’m not—”

“You spoil your aunties rotten,” Mr. Belmont went on. “You spoil us rotten, the boys, the baby… Spoil Sir Jack’s mama, plant
a few ideas in his housekeeper’s head, marvel at his cook’s syllabub, and inflict your flirtations and lectures on the footmen. Work your
magic, and you’ll soon have his household running as smoothly as you do Candlewick.”

Madeline opened her mouth to scold her employer for that bald overstatement—Candlewick had a superbly competent housekeeper and equally talented
cook, though both women were getting on. What they lacked in energy, they made up for in experience.

“You flatter me shamelessly, Mr. Belmont.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“I would,” Sir Jack said, “if I thought it would inspire you to take this post. You’ll have my undying gratitude, a glowing
character, the gratification of fulfilling a much-needed office—”

“And his coin,” Mr. Belmont said. “Lots of coin, such as no sensible young woman refuses.”

Madeline was no longer young. Somewhere between fending off the callow swains in the churchyard—most of them, anyway—and passing every penny
she could spare to her aging relatives, she’d made her peace with reality. She worked hard—she’d always work hard—and if she was
lucky, she’d have a little coin to see her through when hard work was beyond her.

“I hazard to point out that your aunts would tell you to take the offer.” Sir Jack wasn’t teasing or exaggerating. He was making the one
argument Madeline could not refute. Hattie would wax scathingly eloquent if Madeline turned up her nose at a chance to be the companion of a true lady.

And Sir Jack was offering only a temporary position, nothing more.

Had Aunt Hattie’s spring crop of lambs not depended on a wandering ram, Madeline might have refused, but Aunt’s situation had been growing
dire. Theodosia’s finances teetered close to desperate and had for years.

Madeline would not even have a widow’s mite to get her by in old age, as her aunts often reminded her.

“I will be your mother’s temporary companion,” she said, “and if I see problems with how the household is managed, I will bring
them to your attention as discreetly as I can.”

Sir Jack took her hand in both of his. “My relief beggars description.”

Madeline snatched back her hand. “My requirements for taking the position can be articulated fairly easily, if Mr. and Mrs. Belmont would excuse us
for a few minutes?”

The Belmonts were on their feet and halfway to the door before Madeline had finished speaking. Their haste put her in mind of parents affording privacy to
a young lady and a marriage-minded suitor.

Which analogy was just plain ridiculous.

Winning a battle was only half a victory, as any soldier knew. The conquered territory must be held when the guns went silent, and the populace brought
under the victor’s rule, which could be harder than prevailing in combat.

Madeline Hennessey had acquiesced to the scheme Axel and Abigail Belmont had hatched, and so had Jack.

May God have mercy on his soul, for Miss Hennessey radiated discontentment. “What are your terms, Miss Hennessey?”

She rose, and Jack did as well, not only because a gentleman stood when a lady gave up her seat. Madeline Hennessey was tall for a woman, possessed of
glorious red hair, a fine figure, and lovely features. Jack wanted to be on his feet when they parlayed.

Her looks were striking, which a plain cap, severe coiffure, and utter lack of adornment only accentuated. Jack was honest enough to admit that in a small
way, he enjoyed watching
her
, watching the woman who’d quietly kept a widower’s household running while offending none of his more
senior retainers. The same woman who’d become a ferocious ally to Mrs. Belmont when her prospective husband had been slow to offer marriage.

Madeline Hennessey was fierce, in other words, and that quality earned Jack’s respect as generous curves and winsome smiles never would. That same
fierceness put his guard up too, of course.

“I’ll want a bedroom on the same floor as your mother,” Miss Hennessey said, “though I don’t expect to be housed in the
family wing. Stairs are the very devil when you must traverse them at all hours of the day and night.”

“Easily done. What else?”

“Sunday and a half day off each week, and such other time to myself as your mother allows.”

“My entire staff has Sunday and a half day each week. Those who’ve been with me for more than five years have a guarantee of evenings free as
well, provided their assignments are complete.”

She left off studying a sketch of some wild rose or other growing by a still pond. Belmont had likely done the drawing himself.

“How does anything get done after sundown, Sir Jack?”

“The junior staff tend to it.” As far as he knew. He hadn’t asked directly, lest his butler take offense.

“And when your junior staff have all been with you more than five years?”

“The junior staff don’t stay a full year of late. Perhaps you’ll be able to change that.”

“How long will your mother bide with you?”

Too long.
“Mama is a force of nature. She comes and goes as she pleases, and one doesn’t—that is,
I
do not—presume to interfere with
her plans.”

Miss Hennessey folded her arms. “The household belongs to you, Sir Jack. Out of respect for you, your family must apprise you of their plans. How
else is the staff to accommodate your guests, much less anticipate your needs?”

At least she’d left off studying Belmont’s artistry. “Nobody in the entire shire will be left in doubt regarding my mother’s needs,
wants, opinions, or desires. I joined a regiment bound for India, very much against her wishes, and nearly twenty years on, I’m reminded regularly of
what a naughty boy I was.”

“You are not a boy.”

And Miss Hennessey was not offering him a compliment. “Neither am I quite doddering, madam. What are your other demands?”

He’d meet them, whatever they were. The longer Jack conversed with Miss Hennessey, the more he was convinced she was the answer to his domestic
prayers and an able match for Mama.

That Miss Hennessey was reluctant to take the post only attested to her good sense.

“I’ll need a wardrobe allowance,” she said. “As a lady’s companion, I’ll be expected to pay calls with your mother, and
for that I must be presentable if I’m to endure the ridicule of the local gentry.”

“There will be no ridicule.” Not to her face, anyway. More than that, Jack could not prevent.

She marched over to Belmont’s desk, an enormous article at which many botanical treatises had doubtless been penned. Miss Hennessey extracted paper
from a drawer, took up a quill pen, and uncapped a silver ink bottle.

“When shall my half day be?” she asked, putting pen to paper.

“You want a written contract?”

The pen continued its progress across the page. “Of course. Coin is involved, and a woman can never be too careful.”

Jack was torn between affront and amusement. “Miss Hennessey, I am a gentleman. My word is my bond.”

Still, she scratched away at her document. “Gentlemen are prone to memory lapses, though I’ll not hear a word against Mr. Belmont, ever. Your
gentlemanly word won’t get me very far in court, Sir Jack, and it won’t pay for a bolt of cloth from the dry goods store, or buy me new boots
before the first snowfall. What is your legal name?”

She would have made a very effective officer, which
was
a compliment. “Sir John Dewey Fanning, though my friends call me Jack.”

The pen stopped. “I’m Madeline Hennessey.”

How pensive she looked, sitting at the massive desk—and how pretty. “No middle name?” He wanted to know this about her, wanted any detail
she’d part with, because information was a form of ammunition.

She resumed writing, and muttered something under her breath.

“I beg your pardon, Miss Hennessey?”

“Madeline Aphrodite Hennessey. I’ll thank you not to bruit that about at the Wet Weasel.”

“Of course not.” Aphrodite was the goddess of love, pleasure, and procreation, if Jack recalled his tutor’s maunderings. “Might I
inquire as to your other conditions for accepting employment in my home?” The home to which Jack was anxious to return, lest his domestics burn the
place to the ground in his absence.

“I will be driven to Sunday services, if your mother chooses not to go.”

Jack attended regularly. He wasn’t particularly religious in the Anglican sense, but he did want to set a good example for the staff, and socializing
in the churchyard aided in his magistrate’s duties.

“I will happily drive you to services, madam.”

She put down the pen. “
You
will?”

Jack crossed to the desk and peered at what she’d written.

I, Sir John Dewey Fanning, on the date signed below, do take into domestic employment one Madeline A. Hennessey, in the capacity of temporary
lady’s companion for my mother, upon certain conditions as follows…

“You’re a budding solicitor, Miss Hennessey.” She had a graceful hand—neat and legible, no schoolgirl flourishes or embellishments.

“I’m a woman without a man to speak for her, unless one relies on Mr. Belmont’s overprotective nature—which I do not.”

“Hence the severance pay if your employment is terminated in less than thirty days.” A considerable sum too, as household wages went.

Beneath her confident manner was a caution Jack had not anticipated. Mama would approve—Mama was all in favor of women looking out for
themselves—but Jack did not.  

“Miss Hennessey, we are not adversaries. I have an embarrassment of means and need not quibble with my help over contractual details. My objective is
that you should enjoy the time spent in my household, to the extent anybody can enjoy time with my mother.”

Or with him. Jack had no delusions about the pleasure of his own company.

Miss Hennessey pushed the paper over to him and held the pen out. “A fine speech, sir.”

“We aren’t to have witnesses to our signatures?”

“The Belmonts can sign it, after I make a second copy.”

“Miss Hennessey, you risk insult to your employer before you’ve begun your duties. I don’t need a copy of the contract. The terms are
simple, and you’ll correct me should I breach them.”

“No, I won’t.” She signed her name in the same flowing, elegant hand.

“You’ll allow me to breach the terms of this agreement with impunity?”

“Of course not. If you put a foot wrong, I’ll leave.”

Belmont would be on Jack’s doorstep the next morning, glowering as only Axel Belmont could glower.