in my boy?’ He clapped Chester on the back, failing to notice the chill between Jane and his son.
From over the elder Mr Stilton’s shoulder Philip shook his head ever so slightly. Jane hardly needed the warning. Chester might feel he’d finally hit the bottom of the matrimonial barrel, but she wasn’t so desperate, yet.
‘Thank you for your kind offer, Mr Stilton, but I’m afraid my interests lie elsewhere.’
‘More’s the pity.’ Mr Stilton shook his head, then turned to Philip.
Jane didn’t hear what he said as she strode off to the dining room, doing her best to appear dignified. Once out of view, she stormed inside and up to the sideboard, immediately garnering Laura’s attention.
‘Jane, what’s wrong?’
‘Nothing, except for the yellow-toothed wastrel of a cheesemonger who decided to insult me this morning.’ She scooped out a hearty helping of eggs and smacked them down on her plate, wishing the china was Chester’s face and the spoon something more substantial. Jane marched to her place at the table beside Laura and tossed down her plate, causing some of the egg to spill over the side and on to the polished surface. She dropped into the chair the footman held out, her one comfort being the cup of black coffee he set beside her plate. She stared at the dark liquid, wondering if she could slip some brandy into it without anyone noticing. It would take the edge off her anger and the disappointment in herself.
There’d been a grain of truth in Chester’s insult. She was a spinster and time was not improving her situation or her prospects. When she’d held Jasper’s hand last night, she’d wondered if her fate was about to change, but it hadn’t. Despite his insistence, and her gut feeling, a morning like this one made it hard for her to believe the fault was with Jasper and not her.
‘Don’t let him get to you.’ Laura laid a calming hand on Jane’s arm. ‘You’re a wonderful young lady and some day the right man will come for you. You’ll see.’
‘When?’ Jane demanded, poking the eggs with her fork.
‘I don’t know, but we’ll put our minds to it and find you someone, or at the very least, something to entertain you. Perhaps you could stay with my mother for a while? She might introduce you to some of the new surgeons Dr Hale is training.’
‘You mean men who haven’t heard about my being thrown over?’ She shouldn’t be sulky with Laura. It wasn’t her sister-in-law’s fault she was on the shelf. If she weren’t so bold with her opinions and insistent on having her way, she might not be in this situation. She could only imagine how many young men who’d been trounced by her during debates on stocks must be gloating at this comeuppance.
‘That’s not what I mean,’ Laura clarified, more understanding than annoyed. ‘But you could help her. It might take your mind off—’
Thomas, William and Natalie came barrelling into the room, talking at the tops of their voices. Judging by the dirt on Natalie’s dress and the dust on the boys’ shoes they’d been playing in the garden.
‘Mama, Mama, Thomas pulled Natalie’s pigtails,’ William, the youngest boy, lisped over the noise of his brother and sister trying to get their mother’s attention. The bedraggled young governess sagged against the doorjamb to the dining room before she recovered herself and entered, keeping to the rear, knowing Laura preferred to be involved in most of the children’s issues. Unlike many mothers, Laura didn’t relegate the children to the second-floor nursery not to be heard from until it was time to be presented to their parents. Instead, they ran openly through the house like whirlwinds, as Jane, Milton and Jasper used to do.
‘No, I didn’t,’ Thomas insisted, with all the seriousness of Philip and Jane. His hair was lighter like his mother’s, while his younger half-sister and -brother had the darkness of Laura’s.
‘William started it,’ Natalie accused.
‘No, I didn’t.’ The little boy took a swing at his sister and the two of them were back to squabbling.
Jane tried not to sigh while she waited for the row to die down, but the children were insistent in their quarrel. Laura threw Jane an apologetic look which begged her to be patient, but Jane was tired of waiting. With a half-understanding smile, she left her coffee behind and fled the chaos of the dining room for the quiet of the hallway. In the past she and Mrs Hale would have crept off to the garden to discuss the matter. There was no one to speak with now. She wandered past her brother’s office to the back door leading to the garden. The Stiltons were gone and Philip sat behind his desk, speaking with his warehouse manager about some goods he’d been forced to seize from a client who’d defaulted on a loan. If Philip had been alone, she might have at last talked to him. She needed to speak with someone, to believe there might be one person who’d listen and give some attention and priority to her concerns. The truth was, there was no one.
Jane wandered out into the garden. She stopped at the edge of the portico and took in the sun falling across the white and red roses bouncing on their stems in the light spring breeze. The sight of the flowers didn’t calm her as it usually did, it only added to her frustration. If her mother were here, she would listen and make Jane a priority as she had when she was six. But her mother and father were gone and it was her fault they’d left.
Stop it. She sat on a bench in the centre of the garden. Frustration, anger and loneliness welled inside her until she wanted to walk through the gardens and knock each bright rose from its stem. She closed her eyes until it passed, but the disquiet accompanying it failed to ease. She wanted a place and life of her own and she had no idea how to find one.
‘Good morning, Jane.’ Jasper’s voice carried over the birds and the distant noise of the streets.
She rose and turned so fast, the garden swam, but Jasper remained stable in the centre of it. ‘What are you doing here?’ She wasn’t sure if she was delighted or distressed by his unexpected arrival.
‘I came to see you.’
‘Well, I’m not sure I wish to see you.’ She crossed her arms over her chest, flattered and irritated all at once. ‘I’ve had enough of condescending gentlemen this morning.’ No matter how impeccably dressed they might be. Jasper, like young Mr Stilton, was no stranger to his tailor, but there was a muted elegance to his dress the gaudy young cheesemonger lacked.
‘Tell me who’s ruffled your feathers and I’ll pummel him for you.’ He said it with a smile, but she caught a hint of seriousness in the slight narrowing of his eyes. If only she could set him on Mr Stilton. The cheesemonger’s son deserved a beating.
‘He isn’t worth bruising your knuckles.’ A little hope fluttered in her chest. He’d risen rather early this morning to seek her out and she suspected it had something to do with last night. ‘I assume you’re here to discuss more than my morning’s conversations.’
‘I am.’ He motioned to the bench.
She dropped down on the stone, the coolness of it seeping through her morning dress. He sat down beside her, the heat of his body noticeable against the chill of the spring morning. ‘Well? What brought you here?’
Unlike most people, he didn’t flinch or scowl at her directness.
‘I’ve given a great deal of thought to what we discussed last night and I’ve realised you’re right.’ He stretched out his legs. His boots covered his calves before stopping just below his knees
