Zeb took that in. He could imagine Elise dangling charming young men at Jessamine until she fell in love with one, all the while quietly telling those men that she came from a long line of easily seduced young fools.A housemaid’s granddaughter, my dear, a bastard’s bastard. Ripe for plucking.
At best, Jessamine would end up discontented with her lot;at worst, used, disgraced, and discarded. Or maybe she would meet a good man and Wynn would give her a sensible sum and she’d live happily ever after, but Zeb wouldn’t want to bet on it.
“Absolutely not,” he said. “I’m all in favour of Wynn reconsidering this marriage plan, and if you come up with a way to change his mind that is fair to Jessamine, I’ll support you. If your idea, or Elise’s, is to engineer her ruin, you can go to hell.”
“Don’t be a sentimental fool. The girl is a cuckoo in the nest. She needs to be pushed out.”
“Well, you’d know about that,” Zeb said. “Wouldn’t you?”
They stared at one another. Bram’s jaw clenched in a very familiar way, one that heralded justifications. Zeb didn’t have the strength. He shook his head and walked out.
Nine
It began raining properly after that. Zeb found a suitable small table in an empty bedroom and lugged it to his own room, intending to work there rather than encounter any more relatives. As it turned out, he was too frustrated and unsettled to get anything done, and felt uncomfortably conscious of the small room, the enclosing walls. Rain lashed the glass, the daylight dwindled, and as the shadows closed in around him, he was very aware of how far he was from human company. It was hard to remember that, in the circumstances, this was a good thing.
And then he heard footsteps again.
These ones were lighter than before, brisker. Zeb almost ran to the door, yanked it open, and jumped out of his skin to find himself face-to-face with a maid. They both shrieked.
“Sorry!” Zeb yelped. “I’m dreadfully sorry. Did I startle you? Of course I did; I scared myself half to death. I do beg your pardon. Sorry. Do come in.” He stepped back, gesturing her in,and received a look of startling hostility.
That seemed unwarranted. He’d seen her around the house and noted her tense, unfriendly manner, which seemed common to all Wynn’s staff. In her case, it might be linked to the fact that she was a very handsome woman but had her hair pulled back in an unflattering manner and wore a loose, shapeless dress. Zeb wondered whose attention she was trying to avoid—
And that would be the problem.
“Er,” he said. “If you have duties in here, I can leave. I wouldn’t want to be in your way. Give me a moment—”
“I just came to collect your shoes for drying, Mr. Zebedee.”
“Oh! Oh, marvellous, thank you very much. I’m sorry to give you the trouble. Let me get them.”
“I’ll fetch them, sir,” she said, her tone sufficing for the missing ‘you idiot’.
Zeb retreated to the window to be well out of her way, shuddering at the cold it failed to keep out, and gazed at the dark rather than impose further on her notice. Perhaps everyone else in the house hated him, but at least he could avoid upsetting the staff.
He went down to dinner in a mood of unpleasant anticipation. Drinks in the drawing room were negotiated without disaster thanks to Colonel Dash, who held forth at great length on the weather, with particular reference to the likelihood of a Dartmoor mist, then moved seamlessly into British foreign policy while everyone else nodded along. Hawley seemed less poised than usual and was unexpectedly silent; Zeb wondered ifhe had been drinking. Elise and Bram looked rather smug.
It started to go wrong as they ate yet another bowl of soup. This time it was parsnip.
“Are you feeling better, Hawley?” Elise asked brightly.
“I have not been unwell.”
“Really? I understood you had an unfortunate episode. It isn’t the first time, is it? Perhaps your constitution is strained. Your way of life does start to take a toll.”
Hawley swung round rather than replying. “So, Jessamine. I have scarcely seen you today. I understand you were closeted with Elise this afternoon.”
Jessamine dimpled. “Elise allowed me to try on some of her dresses, and arranged my hair.” She did look different, Zeb belatedly noticed, with dangling ringlets. It made her look older, her neck longer. It suited her rather better than the more schoolgirlish styles.
“Really,” Hawley said. “You certainly look very sophisticated and very beautiful. I myself think—but I must not be ungracious.”
“No, do say,” Jessamine said naively. “I wondered if it quite suited me, though it is wonderful. I look so grown-up. I tried a little lip-stain—”
Wynn made a noise. Jessamine said quickly, “Only to try! I wiped it off at once.”
“I think all a young woman needs is the bloom of youth,” Hawley said. “There is nothing so fresh, so perfect. Of course it doesn’t last, and then the tricks come out in an effort to recapture the freshness that has passed. But it is, to me, a shame to seesuch falsities used on simplicity and innocence.”
Elise’s nostrils flared. “Really, Hawley? Ahairstyleaffects her innocence? How remarkably puritanical, from you.”
