Page 12 of Regency Whispers: Scandalous Matches

Chapter Five

‘He is not going to want me bursting into his drawing room at a time like this,’ Jane protested, even though she knew it was futile.

‘Nonsense, the man has just become guardian to a young child he barely knows. He will be glad of any and all support offered.’

‘Surely he would rather have privacy and solitude in this difficult time?’

‘If that was what he wanted, would he have come to call yesterday?’ Lady Mountjoy asked, and Jane quickly dropped her protestations. It was too late anyway, they were already drawing up to an impressive house on Grosvenor Square.

‘Lady Mountjoy,’ Jane said, knowing this might be her only chance to talk in private with her benefactor, ‘Please promise me you are not going to try and match me with Mr Stewart.’

‘Why do you ask, Jane? He is lovely, isn’t he?’

‘No.’ She said it far too quickly and loudly, taking hold of her emotions and toning down her vehemence as she repeated the word. ‘No. I mean, I am sure he is a perfectly pleasant gentleman, but on the couple of occasions we exchanged words there was nothing between us.’

‘Really? I thought I saw a spark. That first flare of interest.’

‘No.’ Jane felt her heart sinking. Lady Mountjoy was thinking of pushing her and the irritating Mr Stewart closer together. ‘I can promise there was nothing between us.’

‘If it is meant to be, it is meant to be,’ Lady Mountjoy said cryptically.

There was no time for any further argument as the carriage door was opened by the driver and Lady Mountjoy hopped out, spritely in step and not showing any hint of the hip pain she had complained of the day before.

Jane wondered about staying in the carriage, knowing it was pure fantasy to think she would escape this visit. With a groan she stepped down and followed the countess in through the front door.

A footman led them through the hall to a room at the back of the house, bypassing the grand drawing room. Instead they were shown into the library, where Mr Stewart and a young boy with the same shock of dark-brown hair and long eyelashes were poring over an atlas together.

For a moment the man and boy didn’t realise they were being observed and they continued to talk in low voices. Then the child looked up, confusion on his face.

‘Lady Mountjoy and Miss Ashworth to see you, sir,’ the footman announced.

‘Thank you. Would you see to it tea is served in the drawing room?’

He stood, motioning for his guests to go ahead whilst he turned and spoke to the boy next to him. The boy nodded, but looked crestfallen at having his uncle taken away.

‘How is he settling in?’ Lady Mountjoy enquired as they sat down in the drawing room.

Mr Stewart grimaced. ‘He cried for his mother all last night, which is hardly surprising.’

‘Poor child,’ Jane murmured. She was lucky enough to have both her parents still alive, but she had lost her twin sister a few years earlier, and she still mourned Harriet every day. Losing someone you loved was terrible, but it was even worse for someone as young as Mr Stewart’s nephew.

‘This isn’t the right place for him,’ Mr Stewart said, running a hand through his hair, and for the first time since meeting him Jane saw his vulnerable side. Normally he was all glib comments and perfectly timed quips. Now he looked as if he was about to be bested by a six-year-old boy.

‘Of course it is. You’re his family,’ Lady Mountjoy said.

‘I know. And I know it is my responsibility to look after him but this house, this life in London, it isn’t the right environment for him.’ He motioned around the room. ‘I have no toys, no books, nothing to interest a child. For the last hour we’ve been looking at atlases to see which route his ship took from Italy to here, but I cannot stretch out that activity any longer.’

‘He’s too young for school,’ Jane said quickly, knowing it wasn’t her place to tell Mr Stewart how to organise his affairs, but unable to stop herself.

‘Why do you say that?’

Jane felt the force of his stare on her, as if he were probing her mind to see what secrets lay there. She thought of the day her parents had sent Harriet and her off to school, convinced they were doing the right thing by their daughters, furthering their education so one day they might become governesses or music teachers. In principle, it had been the right thing, but Jane would never forget the coldness of the teachers or the hostility from some of the other girls. She’d missed her family, missed her home, and she had been fourteen years old. She couldn’t imagine being sent away at the tender age of six.

‘He’s young, and he’s just lost everything and everyone he knows and cares about. Sending him to school before he can feel he has a home to come back to would be devastating for him.’

‘It is early yet to make such decisions. Things will get easier,’ Lady Mountjoy said. ‘Did you have any luck with the agency that employs nannies?’

Mr Stewart grimaced. ‘Three weeks is the soonest they can have someone available. Apparently it is a very busy time for them.’