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Again, Jane had to think for a little while, to absorb the true meaning of what her mother suggested. “Are you saying I lay with him, get with child and pass it off as the Baron’s?”
“Would that… be so bad?” Mama said with a shrug.
“It would be wrong, Mama.” Jane could not believe her mother’s suggestion. “Very, very wrong.”
“As would sending all the Baron’s loyal staff out into the streets in this merciless weather.”
Chapter Four
That day the dark skies promised more rain, with occasional lighter grey patches of drizzle. It would have been so good to send the Jardines outside. Alas, they were all of them confined indoors yet again, and that meant staging another meeting between Epiphany and her unwell father. For once, Jane thanked the cold skies for doing them a favour, as she was sure the aromas of decay would have been far more noticeable in warm weather.
The open window kept the cool breeze circulating, as did the small fire with orange peel burning in it, to offer a more pleasant, spritely scent.
Once again, Epiphany stood near her father’s bed and once again the covers rose and fell to imitate a man - a convalescent man - lying in bed whilst battling an illness. Mama arrived with a bowl full of pungent herbs. Lavender, rosemary, mustard, and something else that made Jane’s eyes water.
“What is that?” Epiphany demanded.
“A treatment from his specialist in Bath,” Mama said as she bustled past. She effectively blocked Epiphany’s view whilst she applied the poultice to the side of the Baron’s face. She then wrapped a wide strip of linen to adhere it to him, then placed the nightcap on top. It had the desired effect of almost obliterating the man’s face.
There was a groan from the bed, which sounded like a displeased old man.
Jane could not see the Baron’s features in the darkened room, but she knew there was somebody in the darkness pretending to sound like her husband. Her late husband.
Please let it be Mister Foote, she prayed, hoping that nobody else knew the truth. The more people who knew, the greater the chance the truth would expose them all.
Epiphany declared, “Father, you have not kissed me in greeting. I shall arrange for the rector to visit.”
With that, the Baron’s daughter turned to Jane.
“He is not long for this world. If you have anything more to say to him, now would be the time.”
Jane gulped, “Why do you think the worst?”
“Hurrumph!” came a noise from the bed. “No Parsons.”
Epiphany’s eyes became round. She turned to face the Baron.
“But father! We must pray for you!”
A gruff, “Leavme’lone,” filled the room.
Jane butted in, “You heard the Baron, we must leave him be to recover from his exertions. I do not mean to sound indelicate, but it has taken him a while to recover.”
“From the wedding night? It’s well beyond that now!” Epiphany said.
“Not merely the wedding night,” Jane was delighted at the blush of heat stealing over her face, “The wedding late evening, the next morning and, well, I did stay with him last night as well. I am as much to blame for his condition. He will be well in time.”
Epiphany held her free hand over her baby son’s ear in disgust as her top lip curled.
“So, he’s married a whore, I see. Just to spite me?”
Before Jane could retaliate, Epiphany swept out in full dudgeon and stomped away.
“Far better to be thought a whore than a widow, I suppose,” Jane sighed against the closed door.
She had thought the worst part of her marriage would be having to get with child. She had never imagined the onslaught from her husband’s family so soon after their marriage.
At the rate the woman was marking items for her son, their eviction could happen as soon as her courses started in a fortnight.
