you would wish to socialise for some while,’ Jack smoothly said. ‘In any case, I have no plans to entertain during my brief stay, so you will miss nothing at Croxley Grange.’
Dawn had listened to the vicar’s blatant social climbing with mounting disgust. Not a single word or look to mark his guilt or sorrow on losing his wife. Yet, before the wreath on his front door had withered he was shamelessly wheedling for an invitation to dine with the new owner of the big house.
‘I deeply regret that I did not have a chance to become better acquainted with your wife.’ Jack knew he had the fellow squirming and he wasn’t about to let him off the hook. What he was determined to do was get Dawn what she wanted, and what the child needed. And what he needed. In London she would be close to him.
‘My stepdaughter would have liked an opportunity to know you better, too, sir,’ Dawn blurted out when it seemed Peter was intending to remain tight-lipped about his dead wife. Moreover he now appeared sullen. Well, let him sulk! She would not allow Eleanor to be forgotten so easily, or to be kept from a conversation to protect his ego!
Jack crouched down to stroke a finger on Lily’s soft cheek and be rewarded with a shy smile. ‘Mrs Mansfield’s daughter is her image; a lasting tribute to her mother. You must be very proud of your little girl, sir.’
Peter made a non-committal noise, fiddling with his neckcloth and his perambulation of the room became speedier.
‘Yes, indeed, she is like her mama.’ Dawn again broke the silence and she gave Jack a grateful smile. Although no word of a plan of action had passed between them she sensed he’d decided to be her ally against Lily’s father.
‘Have you arranged tea for Lord Sterling?’ Peter barked. He resented being put in his place. He barely glanced at Lily even though a pointed reference had been made to her. In turn the little girl seemed oblivious to the fact her father was close by.
‘I want no tea, thank you,’ Jack said, straightening up.
‘Please take some port, then, my lord.’ Peter didn’t want to lose his illustrious guest before he’d inveigled himself into the fellow’s good books. He was also inquisitive about what was to become of the largest estate for miles around. He strode to the sideboard and poured two glasses of ruby wine without offering Dawn a drink. ‘Do take a seat, my lord; you must tell me all about your plans for Croxley Grange.’ He gave Dawn a sharp nod so she would sit down, allowing the gentlemen to do likewise.
Dawn returned to her chair, not for the vicar’s sake, but for her own. She also wanted to keep Jack Valance’s company. For as long as possible. After days of being battered by anguish, his presence today had actually lifted her spirits, made her feel more alive than could even Lily’s sweet company. Constantly fretting over her granddaughter’s bleak future living with a parent who seemed careless of her existence was guaranteed to depress Dawn.
‘We heard the house was run-down and had been returned to the Crown on the death of the previous owner. Viscount Welham had no heir. He was an odd fellow—kept very much to himself and sadly contributed little to the community.’ Peter took a swig from his glass. ‘It was most disappointing that the man was no proper benefactor to good causes as one in his position should be.’
‘The Grange will be restored to a sound condition—other than that I have no plans for any major changes.’ Jack politely sipped at the port that had been forced into his hand, then placed the glass on a table.
‘Oh...a great pity, sir; the presence of gentlemen of your standing is sorely needed in the area.’
‘I will give to local charities, whether or not in residence in Essex,’ Jack said with a hint of a sardonic smile.
Dawn glanced at him, biting her lip on her own faint amusement. So Mr Valance, or Lord Sterling, as she supposed she ought to think of him, was aware that the vicar was brazen with his begging bowl for church funds.
‘If I may ask, sir, what plans have you for your daughter’s care following your wife’s sad passing?’ Jack sat back in his chair and turned a relentless gaze on the vicar. ‘Your work obviously keeps you occupied late into the evening at times. When I came upon you on the evening of the tragedy you were still on duty.’ Jack knew very well that on the night he had fetched the vicar back to his dying wife’s bedside, the man had been miles away in a bawdy house. Mansfield had made a blustered explanation of his presence upstairs. It was his calling to preach against sin, and as though to prove it, he’d produced a bible from his pocket.
‘Indeed, I am busy,’ Peter said pompously, barely blushing at what his guest had alluded to. ‘A wedding here and a funeral there and all manner of sick and needy folk taking up my time. Of course I will always be available to you, my lord.’ Peter had been pleased to receive a prompt payment from Sterling for the servant’s funeral.
‘Will you hire a nurse locally to care for your daughter or engage a woman from an agency in London?’ Jack wasn’t to be put off pursuing his goal.
Peter gave a heavy sigh, wondering what ailed the man to be constantly bothering with domestic issues that were none of his concern. ‘I suppose something of the sort will eventually be done. But I have a servant here during the day and the child is docile enough to need little attention.’ He turned to Dawn. ‘Surely it is time for her nap.’ He flapped a hand to let Dawn know he wanted Lily removed from the room.
‘She has only recently woken up,’ Dawn said truthfully and with a hint of stubbornness. ‘And Mrs Grove is to retire from your service, as you know, sir, so will not be here at any time to care for Lily.’ The cook had just that morning told Dawn she’d informed the vicar of her intention to quit. ‘Lily must never be left alone, she is far too young—’
‘I believe I know my duty to her,’ Peter interrupted. ‘A new woman will soon be engaged in Mrs Grove’s stead.’
Dawn wasn’t about to be put off by his stony stare or clipped words. ‘Lily needs to be properly nurtured. She is a lively child at times and very bright. She should be occupied and educated with toys and books and cared for by somebody who cherishes her. She is my granddaughter and I have offered to take her with me to London so you may attend to your duties here. And I will do that at no cost to you at all, sir.’ Having rattled that off, Dawn paused for a breath.
‘Why, that sounds like an excellent idea, Mrs Fenton,’ Jack declared heartily, ignoring the furious floridity that was rising above Mansfield’s collar. ‘If the vicar is agreeable to that sensible solution I know our mutual friends will be delighted to have Lily as a playmate for Viscount Booth.’
‘Viscount Booth?’ Peter echoed stiffly.
‘The Earl of Houndsmere’s firstborn. Lance Harley is a good friend of mine. He mentioned to me only the other day at dinner that in his opinion children need friends from an early age if they are to thrive. Your daughter, I would say, is about the same age as their son and would make an ideal companion.’
‘I believe that friends are important, too,’ Dawn spoke up with a private smile for Jack to thank him. ‘And so does the Countess of Houndsmere believe in children socialising. Emma would gladly welcome Lily into her home as readily as she does me. Young Bernard is a delightful little boy and would adore having Lily to play with.’
The Reverend Peter Mansfield was aware that Dawn had lofty friends, but he’d paid the connection scant heed before, as he’d never seen a way to benefit from it. Now he suspected he might. He also suspected something else. ‘You are previously acquainted?’ He
