Page 34 of A Countess of Convenience

“Yes, in his letter he detailed it, along with your poor parents. I am so sorry to hear of your father’s ill health.” Her friend settled herself on one of the chairs.

Very well, then, Judith would begin that tale now. “He seemed much improved by the time we left Marholm. I am hoping he will be well along the way to recovery by the time we return home. His and Mamma’s absence is why John graciously offered your services as chaperone here in London and when we go into Wiltshire.” She took her friend’s hand. “I hope you don’t mind very much, Kitty. We were desperate to find a companion for me who would be suitable. Will it compromise your Season, do you think?”

Kitty shrugged. “My Seasons have been compromised from the very first, Judith. The year I turned eighteen, my mother was gravely ill, and I wanted only to be with her. The next year, I was in mourning for both her and my father. So I technically came out when I reached my twenty-first birthday. I found the gentlemen who were interested in me either too old or too young or more captivated by my fortune than myself.”

She paused as the door opened and a maid bustled in with a tea tray, replete with assorted pastries, scones, and bread and butter. “Thank you, Joan.”

Once the girl had left, Kitty set about pouring tea. “I do have hopes this year, though. Since John has been elevated to earl, gentlemen may deign to give me a more serious look. Not only will I have an enhanced dowry to offer, but even more illustrious connections than previously.” She handed Judith a cup and set the pot down. A wistful look came over her face. “More than anything in the world I want a home of my own. These past two years playing hostess for John has made me understand how marvelous marriage must be. To share your life with someone, to help them by taking away the burden of running the house so they may attend to more vital tasks.” Her face shadowed. “But I cannot stay here much longer.”

“John would give you a place here for as long as you live, Kitty. You must know that.” Judith sipped her tea and shuddered. She’d been so engrossed in her friend’s plight she’d forgotten to put sugar in.

“I do. But even though I love my brother and would do anything to help him for as long as he needs me, he will marry soon. Then my place will rightfully be taken by his wife once more.” She frowned. “Even though Sarah was a kind woman, I always felt out of place around her.”

Kitty only spoke the truth. Spinster sisters or daughters had little recourse other than to remain in the home and take care of their family members, without a clear position in the household. A sad proposition, but very common in Society. If John were to marry, her friend would be in a pickle to be sure, having to learn to live with a strange woman. Unless Judith married John.

The thought she’d been avoiding all day popped into her mind and almost out of her mouth. She clenched her jaw so quickly her teeth clicked. She’d wanted to ponder what had happened last night in John’s chamber but had feared where such remembrances might lead.

“But we are supposed to be talking about your dilemma, Judith, not mine. Please tell me, from the beginning, what has happened.” Kitty poured herself more tea, seemingly resolved to disregard her own predicament. “John wrote to me with the bare bones of what was going on, so I would know to have the house readied for you, but I want to know the details.” Resolutely, she picked up a scone and slathered it with cream. “Begin with why you were back at Ruecroft.”

* * * *

Next morning, as Judith sat to breakfast alone in the elegant dining room, she at last reached the conclusion she’d known all along but hadn’t wanted to admit. She must speak to John about what had occurred that night at The Sun Inn. Heat blossomed in her cheeks to think of it, so how she would actually speak aloud to John about it she had no idea. Footsteps outside the door made her dive for her teacup. Holding it before her face, she could explain away any residual redness there might be.

John entered, reading a letter.

“Good morning, John.”

“Good morning.” He looked up and smiled. “Did you sleep well?”

Images of him and her in bed flashed before her eyes. The cup rattled into the saucer and Judith couldn’t finish swallowing her sip of tea. It went down wrong and she half-coughed, half-spewed it into her napkin.

“Judith!” John raced to her and pounded her soundly on her back. “Are you all right?”

Still sputtering, she nodded vigorously. “Fine,” she croaked.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, my dear.” He sat beside her, rubbing her back.

His touch was incredibly soothing. “I’m sorry if I frightened you, John.”

“No harm done, it seems.” After a moment, he ceased rubbing and removed his hand. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.” She wanted to ask him to continue, but that would never do. What had come over her? “When will the solicitor arrive?”

“As a matter of fact, I don’t believe we will need to see him. Blanchard has just sent this letter to me.” He waved the piece of paper at her. “With quite a bit of news.”

At those words, Judith perked up, forgetting her embarrassing thoughts. “What does he say?”

“We will not need to journey on to Wiltshire.”

“We won’t?” She clutched his arm. “Why not?”

“Apparently, when Blanchard submitted the petition to have Downing’s guardianship set aside and instate you as guardian, the court sent a copy to Downing.” John patted her hand and squeezed it. “It must have terrified the man, for he arrived in London two days ago.”

“He’s here?” Excitement shot through Judith like a bolt. “Here in London?”

“According to Blanchard, who has already received a visit from the man.” He consulted the letter and grinned. “Not a very pleasant interview, I can tell you.”

“Then we must leave for Wiltshire immediately.” Springing up, Judith pushed back the chair, scarcely able to believe her luck.