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She sang softly as she worked, conscious of a strong sense of purpose in her life. Today her deepest fears seemed far away, and the anxious voice inside her quiet. For now.
‘I declare, Jane, you have the sweetest singing voice I ever heard.’ Jane’s mama bent to kiss her on the cheek.
Jane laughed. ‘You always say so, Mama, and I always repeat that your ear is attuned to my voice simply because I am your daughter. Now, I see you are dressed to go out. Do you need me to do anything while you are gone?’
‘Nothing in particular,’ Mrs Bailey replied, tying her plain bonnet under her chin. ‘Thomas will take me to the village, where I must speak with the butcher. All is quiet upstairs, and Mrs Cullen is content, so now is my chance to slip out for an hour. I have told them all that you speak for me in my absence.’
‘Yes, Mama.’ As housekeeper, Mrs Bailey rarely left Ledbury House, but when she did Jane was an able deputy. ‘Though I am sure nothing untoward will happen.’
Jane returned to her laundry work and Mr Handel’s aria.
Once satisfied, she stepped outside with the wet nightgown and spread it on a bush near the kitchen door. There it would remain for a couple of hours, until it was nearly dry, at which point Jane would bring it indoors to air in front of the kitchen fire. If it did not rain the nightgown would be dry and pressed long before Miss Marianne’s bedtime.
She paused for a moment, enjoying the sensation of the pale winter sunshine on her face.
I am content here, at Ledbury House, she realised.
Then the wind whipped up again and sent her scurrying inside to her mending.
