Jane sighed: a memory had suddenly surfaced of talking to Digby about their shared hope to travel to Europe and discovering that he agreed with her on so many interesting places they wished to visit.
A little dart of disquiet broke into her reverie: had Digby been too eager to agree with her? Perhaps he had told Anne that he was in accord with her as well? It was so difficult to know what to think. She had believed with her heart and soul that he cared for her, but she had been wrong. That gave her cause to think that she had no judgement where men were concerned. Had all his fine words been a sham and make believe, just so he could marry into the Darcy family?
The whole idea was hurtful and left her feeling angry, not only at men who did not show their true characters, but with herself for being so feeble as to believe every word he had said. Well, she would not do that again: she would believe no man’s sugar-coated words!
She watched as Susannah moved to Celeste’s side and heard her suggesting that she would do well to put on her shawl as these English winds were sharper than the Italian ones she was used to and could be harmful.
Dear Susannah, always worrying about other people. Jane smiled to herself, thoughts of Digby vanishing. She wondered what her friend would say if she whispered the secret that had been entrusted to her? She would be surprised, perhaps even shocked. Indeed it was difficult to list just what similar likes and dislikes Celeste and the Colonel had in common, but obviouslythey were not letting such small problems stand in their way of happiness.
Jane fell silent as they all began to return to the house, only to relinquish her friend when the Colonel called across for Susannah’s advice on the advisability of installing a little fountain in the centre of the herb bed.
As Susannah hastened to partake what little knowledge she had, Celeste linked her arm through Jane’s as they walked on.
“It amuses me, dear Jane, that so many English gentlemen seem to enjoy playing around in mud. The Colonel is bespattered and Dr Moore cannot wait until he is out in Greece, getting his hands dirty, digging away for his old antiquities.Tell me, does your papa pass his time gardening?”
Jane smiled and shook her head. “I believe he and Mama enjoy planning where new flower beds and statues shall be placed, but he leaves the actual work to people trained in that profession.”
Celeste laughed. “The Colonel has Bates to help him, but he still insists on getting his hands dirty. I suppose Dr Moore has no choice but to dig and at least his results are of great interest to many people. He tells me that he will give a talk to the Royal Society when he returns from Athens. This is very important. He will be mixing with the highest people in the land. That is much better than growing the largest cabbage in all England!”
Jane glanced at her cousin’s beautiful face. She looked thoughtful, as if pondering a difficult problem.
“When you are living here as the Colonel’s wife, I am sure you can persuade him to involve himself in other, less muddy, hobbies.”
“What? Oh yes, yes, indeed I shall. And, of course, it will be very cold in Greece during the winter.”
Puzzled at this odd remark, Jane just nodded politely and led the way indoors to order tea to be served at once, trusting that that would bring the gallant gardeners indoors.
Overnight the wind increased and rain clouds began to gather from the west. The sunny days were obviously over and Jane was glad she had thought to ask Tabitha to pack warmer dresses and coats.
No visitors arrived at Deerwood that day—they were all to meet up at Robyns for dinner that evening. There was a mood of quiet anticipation throughout the house; Celeste, in particular, was very excited at the thought of the outing, insisting that Jane inspect her wardrobe and advise on which of her many dresses she should wear.
“The dear Colonel has allowed me to have, how you say, credit at a shop in Dorchester,” she said, proudly displaying a silk and satin dress in emerald green, with huge, diaphanous sleeves in paler green gauze, embellished with many frills and flounces. Jane thought it far too grand for a simple country dinner, but the girl was so pleased with it that she didn’t have the heart to pour cold water on her choice.
“I long to see Robyns and meet Lady Goddard. The Colonel does not go out into company nearly enough for a man of his consequence. This will hopefully be the first of many such dinners. Lady Goddard’s friends in the neighbourhood will hear of our attending and ask us in return. And I am determined to persuade the Colonel to give a great dinner, with dancing. It would be very agreeable to hold such an affair before Dr Moore leaves for Greece.”
She laughed. “He is such a charming young man but assures me he cannot dance. That he has, how he puts it, two left feet! But surely that cannot be the case. We shall see. I shall speak to the Colonel and insist on a dance here at Deerwood.”
Jane would have liked to have given a word of warning, that she must not arouse the suspicion of the local population by acting as the chatelaine before a formal announcement of her betrothal was made. But Celeste was like a child in her excitement and could not be calmed.
Eventually she escaped back to her own room where Tabitha was waiting to style her hair.
“Which dress will you be wearing this evening, Miss Jane?” the young girl asked as she brushed and braided and twisted the long fair hair up into an intricate pattern, leaving just one tendril to curl down around each ear.
“I thought the pale pink.” Jane glanced up into the mirror and realised the maid was frowning. “No? You do not approve?”
Tabitha blushed. “Oh Miss Jane, it isn’t for me to approve or disapprove. The pink’s pretty right enough, but oh Miss, I do love to see you in the cream silk.”
Jane hesitated; she wasn’t even aware that she had brought the cream dress with its wide sleeves and heavily embroidered bodice to Deerwood. She thought she had bundled it up and thrown it to the back of her wardrobe because she had been wearing it in London when dancing with Digby. She could only imagine that Tabitha had found it, and thought it had been discarded for washing.
She had to admit, once the dress was on, that it suited her better than the pale pink, not that she was bothered about how she looked. She was quite certain that old Lady Goddard would disapprove of her on principle, because she wasn’t Anne. And as for the two gentlemen—she pushed her thoughts away. What did it matter if Archer Maitland approved of her dress? Surely her thoughts and ideas were more important than what she was wearing?
“Miss Jane—” Tabitha was holding out her dark brown velvet shawl, obviously hesitating to speak but anxious to do so.
“Yes, Tabitha.”
“Miss Jane, I’ve heard from some of the other servants that there is a sort of village celebration tonight at the Green Man Inn, because the harvest is all collected and good. It happens every year, they do say. I know it isn’t my day off, but …”
“But I am going out and all you have to do is sit in your room, sewing on all my missing buttons and ribbons!” Jane smiled. “It sounds a jolly affair. Why, there might be dancing, you’d enjoy that, Tabitha.”
