Scandalous Miss Brightwells [Book 1-4]

“Hel

lo, Mama; please don’t tell me Jack has to go home. He will come back, won’t he? He’s not going to be a bootboy yet, is he? Why can’t he be my bootboy? Sally never polishes my boots shiny enough. Not like Jack would. Jack always does what I say.”

“Nah, not always, Miss Katherine, and ‘sides, I ain’t goin’ to be a bootboy,” Jack said cheerfully. “That nice Miss Montrose said I could be anythin’ I wanted. Tomorrow I’m going to be a groom lookin’ after the horses durin’ the race, and in the evenin’ I’m goin’ to be a groomsman after’, ‘elping the nice lady to the church for her secret weddin’.” He chuckled at the play on words.

Fanny, who was about to tell Jack that Roberts was waiting with the dogcart and that he must hurry off, wondered if her ears were deceiving her.

Wedding? Her heart lurched. So that was why Mr Patmore was behaving so oddly and why Miss Montrose was so distant. They planned to elope?

The lift to her spirits was short-lived. A secret wedding in the local church? Why, the banns hadn’t been read. Cousin George had only just cried off, so those banns had been read, but the legalities weren’t in place for Miss Montrose to wed an alternative bridegroom.

“Can I come to the wedding, too?” Katherine asked, her eyes shining. “There were raspberry ices at Miss Honey’s wedding last month.”

“Nah, reckon it’s a waste of time if yer wantin’ raspberry ices, cos there ain’t goin’ to be anyone there ‘cept the nice lady and Mr Bramley and me and the vicar and his housekeeper.”

“Mr Bramley?” Fanny raised her eyes and stared, open-mouthed at the boy who had added this after finishing the last bit of his cake and was now swinging his feet. “When did Mr Bramley mention this?”

Jack shrugged. “When he told me me duties ‘bout Devil winnin’. ‘E said if Devil won, then the lady’d won her wager fair and square, which weren’t so bad a thing when all was said and done, but e’d ‘ave to go to ground a bit, and I’d need to attend to some things to ‘elp the lady get to the church by the midnight hour.”

“You’ve got a good memory, Jack,” said Katherine admiringly. “Can I have that piece of cake that’s in your pocket?”

“No, you cannot!” Her mother spoke sharply. “That’s going to the children at the foundling home, and Roberts is waiting with the cart to take Jack back.” She continued to stare at the boy who looked so pleasant-natured and contented on his perch. “What time tomorrow did Mr Bramley say he’d fetch you?”

“Well, the race starts in the mornin’ so ‘e says I better be ready to be fetched from dawn.”

“Please, can I have another piece of cake?” begged Katherine.

“You cannot!” Her mother repeated at the same time as Jack took a piece from his pocket and handed it over. He grinned at her daughter. “Reckon I were keepin’ this for meself, but Kathy—I mean, Miss Katherine—wants it more ‘n me and Cook’s wrapped up more’n half a cake wot she’s keepin’ in the kitchen for me to fetch afore I go back.” He swung himself down from the tree to stand before Fanny. “So, I’ll be off then, m’lady?” He bobbed his head first to Fanny then Katherine.

“Yes, yes, you go,” Fanny said faintly, watching him saunter down the hill and wondering what on earth she should do now. But when she saw Mr Patmore striding towards the stables, she realised that only one thing now would answer—the truth.

So, picking up her skirts and hurrying the short distance she intercepted him, coming up behind and surprising him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Mr Patmore, I think there’s something you should know.” She swallowed, wishing she had a complete picture of what was going on, so that she might hold back on certain facts that could prejudice Mr Patmore’s regard for the young lady she saw as she looked over his shoulder was just riding in.

With a sigh, she added, “Several things, in fact.”

Chapter 16

Eliza dismounted and, at the stable door, felt her heart sink as she watched Mr Patmore walk purposefully towards her.

“Miss Montrose, good afternoon. I hope you enjoyed your ride,” he said with careful formality as he offered Eliza his arm. “Shall we walk? I have a few things to say in private as I must leave earlier than I’d intended.”

“When?” She realised how much she didn’t want him to go, at the same time she realised how much easier it would make her life if he weren’t lurking in the background. The possible wedding to Mr Bramley tomorrow night made her feel ill. If Devil didn’t win, it may not come to pass, in which case she would she throw herself at Mr Patmore because she’d exhausted all other opportunities?

“This afternoon, in fact. Pressing business demands my immediate attention.” Career advancement? She wondered what kind of wife he’d choose when his position in politics or the diplomatic service would demand some unblemished hostess at his side.

Oh, if only Eliza knew if Susana really were in possession of the details of Eliza’s reasons for being disowned, so that Eliza could take a chance with the wonderful man gazing at her with such serious consideration. Her cousin was spiteful; she’d be the first to reveal Eliza’s shame if Aunt Montrose had told her on her deathbed. But if Susana didn’t know, perhaps it might be possible to reveal the truth to Mr Patmore.

He may still be prepared to marry her if he could be assured that no one else was in possession of her secret. On the other hand, as a rising politician, he may not consider it worth the risk.

“Will you be sorry to see me go?”

Eliza looked into his eyes and tried to read what was in their depths. How far would he condone her sin? Ought she confess right now?

But, always came the niggling fear that for all that he might love her, he might consider her damned. And Jack damned. Their society wasn’t kind to women like herself, she knew to her cost. If her own mother and father had cast her out, and the man who’d brought her so low held the same narrow attitudes, how could she risk revealing her darkest secret to the one man whose opinion mattered above all others?

If she had a fortune, she’d have time on her side, and be buffeted from the vagaries of ill fortune. But she was penniless. All she had was her name. And if it were revealed she was a woman of bad character, the society upon whom she relied for succour would cast her out, just like her parents had.