you return to the schoolroom. Nurse Twinkleham is waiting," she said, taking pity on her niece.
The boys rose reluctantly and bowed to their aunts and the earl. At the door, Bertram turned back to the earl. "You’re a great gun, my lord. And don’t worry about Aunt Jane ’cause she’s a great gun, too," he confided in a grown-up, man-to-man fashion. Grinning cheekily, he gave a jaunty little hop-skip and followed his brother out of the room.
"You must not mind Bertram, Jane. Miss Bailee’s desertion affected him profoundly. I believe he is merely hedging his bets that you shall not also desert him," Lady Elsbeth said after the door closed behind the children.
"I judge the lad is suffering from a surfeit of feminine skirts," drawled Lord Royce.
Jane could not help but agree with the earl’s assessment. "I believe it to be particularly galling since Penwick Park is accoutered with all manner of sporting equipment. Unfortunately, Edward is too young to enjoy it with Bertram, and the only other neighborhood boy, being almost a full head taller than Bertram, has the attitude of a bully. Upon my brother-in-law’s return, I shall advise that he replace Miss Bailee with a tutor, a young man more inclined to encourage and channel Bertram’s energies."
Lord Royce agreed with her, stayed a few minutes longer exchanging pleasantries, then took his leave. Jane Grantley watched him depart for the third time that day, her black brows drawn thoughtfully together. This time her feelings were uncertain. If she had not been aware of his history, she would have sworn he came solely for the children. His manner after they quitted the room lacked the ease he had displayed in their presence. It was as though the earl liked children! Impossible. Everyone talked of how shabbily he had treated his own son by refusing to legitimize him, though the child was of gentle birth. There were even rumors that the boy died at three years of age due to abuse—or at least neglect. The man was an enigma.
Nonetheless, while she could be thankful for his kindness to her nephews, the memory of the way he’d carried her out of the briar patch and his subsequent claim of his prize brought a return of high color to her cheeks. The Earl of Royce was a mannerless lout trading upon his title for acceptance. Well, she did not believe a title excused rude, forward behavior!
Suddenly aware of a prolonged silence in the room, Jane glanced at her aunt, catching her thoughtful regard. Jane dropped her eyes and shifted uneasily in her chair, making a show of pouring more tea into her cup from the Meissen porcelain pot on the table next to her. Relaxing back in her chair, she turned to smile at Elsbeth, her composure finally intact. She calmly sipped her tea.
The brew was distastefully tepid.
The next afternoon Jane wandered into the stillroom, a sheaf of papers in her hand and a frown pulling her brows together. "I think a dinner followed by dancing is what we should plan for the day our guests arrive."
Lady Elsbeth did not look up from the herbs she was grinding between mortar and pestle. "If you say so, my dear, I certainly have no objection; however, I thought it was your intention to plan country entertainments that Serena would dislike. I doubt she will fault dinner and dancing."
"I know, but I have decided our first task is to turn her attention from my state of spinsterhood. If we include Lord Royce in our invitation, Aunt Serena and Millicent will be diverted before they implement whatever devious plans they have for me."
"Gracious! How can you be sure they possess devious plans?"
Jane shrugged and laid her papers on the workbench. "They did once. I see no reason for them not to do so again."
Lady Elsbeth pursed her lips, studying her niece. The afternoon sun, streaming in the high, narrow windows of the cool subterranean stillroom, bathed Jane in a glow of light. Oh, how she wished to be in Jane’s confidence! She was so outwardly self-assured, yet inwardly she hurt from some disappointment unknown to Elsbeth. Possibly it was suffering caused by the very contretemps lying between her and Serena. No matter, little by little she would discover the particulars. She only hoped it would be sooner than later, for she placed no confidence in the earl dancing attendance on Millicent. As the widow of David Hedgeworth, Millicent possessed wealth, but nothing compared with Jane’s holdings.