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The kind of ribbons Lady Jardine had tied around items inside the estate were now visible on branches of each citrus tree in the orangery.
“Oh goodness, she’s been out here too.” Bethany placed her hand over her mouth. “So sorry, my Lady, I speak out of turn.”
Jane shot around to make sure Lady Jardine was not standing directly behind them.
Devil take her, there she was.
“These belong to the next Baron Ealing, as is his birthright.” Lady Jardine said, none too pleased at being mocked. “I claim only what belongs to him. Would you deny his inheritance?”
A tuft of orange hair peeked out from the babe’s soft bonnet. His skin was so pale, with a hint of buttercups. One might almost call it translucent.
“Lady Jardine,” Jane bobbed a curtsey.
Beside her, Bethany dropped into an even deeper mark of respect.
“You should be tending to my father,” Lady Jardine barked.
“Indeed, I am tending to my husband,” Jane confirmed. “I came here hoping for some lemons. The Baron requested them for his cup of tea.”
“I need Oranges, for the babe,” Lady Jardine said. “Fetch them for me, Mrs Gardener.”
“Right away, my Lady.”
Bethany vanished towards some trees. She soon reappeared with a single citrus in her hand. “It’s the closest to ripe that we have. What with the terrible weather.”
“I’m sure it will improve with a little honey,” Lady Jardine said, taking the fruit.
Bethany tickled the infant on the cheek and cooed.
“Ain’t they all so precious? Now, let’s turn your bonnet up and get you some sun, so you can grow up nice and strong.”
Something melted within Jane at the sight of the lovely child and the woman making a fuss over him. Perhaps her efforts with Mister Foote would bear fruit?
Lady Jardine suddenly pulled away.
“How dare you touch the Viscount’s son!”
Mrs Gardener’s finger caught in the bonnet’s ribbons, and it came off in her hand.
The babe wailed. His orange hair was brighter than the citrus of the same name.
“Forgive me, my Lady, I’m ever so sorry.” Bethany pleaded, handing back the bonnet.
Lady Jardine took the scrap of material, turned away and stormed off in high dudgeon.
Bethany angled herself around to see Jane, a wicked grin on her face.
“All that red hair, no wonder she hides it under a bonnet!”
Jane’s heartbeat raced, but she kept her voice as low and innocent as possible.
“It is rather a shock of colour, is it not? But I should be so lucky to be so blessed, when my time comes. I will not care a jot if the babe’s hair is bright green.”
“No chance of anything but pitch black from the Baron.” Bethany said, “That red must have been lurking on Lord Jardine’s side.”
Jane wondered out loud.
“His nurse has the exact same colouring. I wonder if there’s a family connection there?”
