“Thorton, I shall be in my study. I do not wish to be disturbed unless the house is burning down, or if Lady Grace should happen to visit, I shall see her. Only her, mind you.”
“Yes, my lord.” Thorton closed the door, and Matt leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers. Now he knew what advice Patience’s mother had given her. Unfortunately in that case, her mother had been right. He’d need to give Grace all the affection and understanding his father hadn’t given Patience.
Grace and Matt’s love was more like his father’s and his mother’s. He’d cajole her out of her bad moods, and she would do the same for him. He’d protect her. But to do that, he needed to discover how to change what was going on in her beautiful, misbegotten head.
* * *
Jane needed a walk. Grace was upset and not ready to discuss whatever was troubling her. The children had their lessons, and Jane had some errands to run. At least that was the excuse she’d use if anyone asked. She’d always hoped Grace would wed, but now that the event would occur in about a week, Jane must seriously consider what she would like to do.
Though she had gone to Stanwood Hall to help Grace’s mother and remained, she was not a poor relation. She chuckled to herself. Perhaps she should hire her own companion and travel. As much as Grace thought she would still want Jane to stay with the family, it was time for her to live her own life.
“Oy, lady. Watch where ye’re goin’.”
Before she knew what was happening, She was being hauled up and away from the street. A swift-moving sporting carriage passed where she’d been mere moments ago. Stupid, reckless driver. Did no one watch where they were going, and why was she still being held?
The scent of lemon verbena mixed with mint tickled her nose. No lady’s perfume. Only one man she’d ever known used that particular scent, but he’d left years ago. She was slowly lowered to the pavement. The moment her feet touched the ground, she turned. A man, only a few inches taller than herself, gazed down at her with serious gray eyes.
The same color gray as a storm cloud, and just as changeable. “Hector?”
“Jane?” he said as if she were the only “Jane” in the world. “By all that is holy, it is you.”
Long ago memories slammed into her, robbing her of breath. “How long have you been back?”
“Less than a week.” He stared at her, yet she didn’t know what to make of his look.
He had filled out in the last twenty years. His complexion, a reddish-brown, carried the remnants of India. Other than that, his dear face was the same, lightly rounded and cheerful. Older to be sure, but so was hers.
Surely he had married, but Jane found she could not ask the question. “How are you?”
“I’m much better now.” He linked her arm in his. “Where are you going? I shall accompany you.” When she hesitated, he asked, “Unless you’re married, that is.”
“No. I never married. You?”
His eyes sparkled with humor as they used to. “The same. I couldn’t find a woman who could hold a candle to you, Janie.”
The nickname only he called her took her back to days of her first Season, before her father had thrown him out of the house for daring to ask for her hand. If only she’d had the strength of character to elope with him, yet that would have been difficult as he hadn’t asked. “I mostly left the house to think.”
“Is it that noisy where you live?”
He said it as if she were living in a boardinghouse. Jane couldn’t resist the temptation to tease him. “There are a number of children and more coming.”
Hector stopped. His concerned gaze bore into her, still it was all she could do to keep from laughing. “Never tell me you’re a matron at an orphan hospital!”
Jane patted his arm. “No, nothing so drastic. I have been acting as companion to one of my cousins who has guardianship of her brothers and sisters. There are a great many of them.” He opened his mouth to speak, and she hurried on. “Now it appears that she will marry, and it is time for me to make my own life.”
They began ambling down the street again.
“A paid companion.” His tone was grim. “What the devil was your father thinking?”
“No, indeed. You mistake the matter.” A giggle escaped Jane’s lips. How good it felt to stroll with Hector again.
His tone was severe, but his lips twitched. He never remained solemn for long. “I have a feeling you’re making a May game of me, Miss Carpenter.”
“Well, perhaps a small one. I offered my assistance. My cousin needed help after her husband died, and I was free at the time. I stayed when she passed and her daughter, Grace, took over. Papa left me with a generous competence. As a matter of fact, before he died, he apologized for not allowing us to wed.”
“I thought he had selected a husband for you?” The corners of Hector’s lips turned down in a rare show of irritation. “If I’d had any idea you had been left alone all this time . . . well, let’s just say I would have sent for you.”
“I hardly call living in a house with seven children being alone.”
