Violet appears to enjoy my company—perhaps, if I was certain that it would not be an imposition, I could remain here as her companion, although Mama is set on me making my come-out next Season.
Do you think that if I do not ‘take’ she might agree—?
Violet looked up. ‘Is that a carriage stopping?’
Jane covered her letter with a clean sheet of paper and went to the window. ‘Yes, I cannot see properly, it is behind the wall. Strange, it looks like—Violet! It is Papa and Mama.’
Violet put down her journal, took off her spectacles and stood up. ‘Oh, rats,’ she said, with what Jane considered considerable restraint until she saw how pale her cousin had become. ‘It would seem that our joint letter writing has not been as reassuring as we thought.’
‘At least they do not appear to have brought Billing. Nor can they have heard about yesterday. Oh, no, there is Billing and Papa’s valet, Simpkins.’ Jane took a deep breath, smoothed down her skirts and went out to the hall. ‘We must overwhelm them with the warmth of our welcome—and somehow keep them away from Ivo.’
She threw open the door and ran down the two steps to the garden path. ‘Mama! Papa! What a lovely surprise.’
Violet came down to stand beside her. ‘Cousin Mildred, Cousin Arthur, how delightful to see you. I do hope you had an uneventful journey.’ She turned and called back into the hall, ‘Dorothy—prepare the Blue Bedchamber and the one next to it for Mrs and Mrs Newnham and tell Cook to send in tea and cakes.’
‘Just some thin bread and butter,’ Mama said faintly. ‘You know that I cannot eat anything rich after the exertions of a journey. Oh, Jane.’ She shook her head reproachfully, but allowed her daughter to kiss her cheek.
‘Come inside,’ Violet urged. ‘My footman will help your people with the luggage.’ To Jane she sounded perfectly at ease and delighted with her new guests, but the colour was rising and ebbing in her cheeks and her smile looked forced.
Her parents settled in the parlour with the air of explorers who had braved storm-tossed oceans and snow-blocked Alpine passes to reach their daughter, not undertaken a straightforward journey over good roads in the comfort of their own travelling carriage.
‘Jane,’ her father said, fixing her with a stern gaze. ‘Your mother and I have endured the most distressing anxiety.’
‘Papa.’ She sat down to keep her quivering knees under control. ‘I do hope you received our letters.’
‘Of course we did. And naturally we set out immediately. Where is that man?’ Mama demanded.
‘What—oh, you mean the unfortunate person I assisted? I have no idea.’
Which is true. Ivo might be doing almost anything at the moment.
‘I took him to the first respectable inn and summoned a doctor, as I told you in my letter. I am sorry about Billing, but I had no idea how badly he was hurt and she was being so obstructive that I feared she would delay me getting him to medical aid. Imagine how dreadful if he had died as a result.’ Jane managed a look of surprised innocence. ‘You surely do not think that I brought him here? That would be shocking.’
‘Violet?’ Mama turned to her cousin. ‘Tell me this is so!’
‘I told you in my letter, Mildred,’ Violet said. ‘I had thought I had made it quite clear. I cannot imagine why you felt it necessary to rush here in such haste. Not that you are unwelcome,’ she added with a tight smile. ‘But really, Cousin, I cannot help but feel that you are overreacting to the actions of a young lady who showed both courage and a truly noble concern for a person in trouble. One could say that Jane was a perfect Good Samaritan.’
‘You have been gravely deceived,’ her father said. ‘Billing, loyal servant that she is, set out the next day once she had recovered herself and learned that Jane spent the night at Turnham Green in company with that man and then set out in the morning with him.’
‘I told her to go home and gave her the money to do so,’ Jane said indignantly. ‘Of all the sneaking... I did not spend the night in his company, merely in the same building—’
Jane was interrupted in mid-flow by the sound of the knocker. All four of them looked towards the door as the sound of Violet’s footman speaking to the new arrivals came indistinctly through the panelling.
‘I shall tell Albert that I am not receiving visitors,’ Violet said as the door opened and the footman stepped inside.
‘The Marquess of Westhaven and the Earl of Kendall, Miss Lowry.’ He shot a nervous glance at his mistress, clearly trying to convey that he had not felt brave enough to ask a marquess to wait on the doorstep.
‘My lords.’ Violet shot to her feet. ‘Good morning.’
‘Miss Lowry, I presume? My apologies for calling unannounced,’ the Marquess said with great amiability and a smile that could have cut teak. ‘I did not feel, under the circumstances, that this was a matter that could wait.’
‘Circumstances?’ Violet said faintly. ‘Er... My lords, may I present my cousin Mrs Newnham, her husband Mr Newnham and her daughter Miss Newnham.’
Jane found she was being assessed through rather faded blue eyes by a man who, quite clearly, was what Ivo would look like in fifty years’ time. The Marquess nodded sharply. ‘Miss
Newnham. Ma’am, sir.’ He sat down when Violet made a vague gesture towards the best armchair.
Ivo, meanwhile, was shaking hands. ‘Mrs Newnham, Miss Newnham, Mr Newnham.’ His fingers tightened on hers, whether in warning or apology she could not guess.