The Postilion (The Masqueraders #2) - S.M. LaViolette Page 0,67
the obvious physical signs.”
“Do you know why she left Oakland Manor?” Elinor asked, apparently deciding not to tease him about his ignorance.
“She said Fielding found out and cautioned her to find another position before she caused Stephen any trouble.”
“Ah, I should have suspected as much. Fielding is always concerned with Stephen’s welfare first and foremost. I would have taken action on her behalf if it had not been you that she’d gone to.” She hesitated. “I take it this move from the stables to the house was a compromise with your conscience.”
“You know me so well,” he said drily. As usual, he thought about the position he’d really wanted to give her and his face heated. Thank God Elinor couldn’t see the contents of his head.
Jago looked at his friend and smiled. “I should have known you’d guess. I actually wanted to tell you and ask your opinion, but it never seemed like the right moment.”
“Do you know why she is doing this?” Elinor asked.
“I don’t know much,” he hesitated, and then said, “I might as well tell you the little I know.”
A few minutes later, after Jago was finished, Elinor shook her head in wonder. “It is an extreme—and daring—reaction to a problem,” she said, a rueful smile on her lips. “I am envious of her audacity. I wish—” She bit her lip and then shook her head. “I was going to say I wish that I’d had the courage to do such a thing when I was fifteen, but then I realized that would have changed my whole life and I wouldn’t be where I am, today.”
Jago smiled. “A wise philosophy.”
“Is it your plan to keep her employed as your secretary … indefinitely?”
“I don’t know. I thought I might help her find a new position—something less, er, dangerous—when I take her to London with us in the spring.”
“As what? A governess?”
“If that is what she would like.” He shrugged. “I’d just like to see her working for a master who would take care of—rather than prey on—her.”
Her forehead furrowed. “I don’t understand. Is that what you think you are doing, Jago—preying on her?”
Jago suspected that his face was as red as a poppy.
“Oh, goodness,” she said softly. “It’s that way, is it?”
He gave a choked laugh of mortification and squeezed his temples between his thumb and forefinger. “Not yet. But I’m ashamed to admit that I don’t know how much longer I can behave myself.”
“Why?”
His head swung up. “What?”
“Why are you so ashamed that you are attracted to her?”
“I can’t believe you have to ask me such a question, Elinor.”
“And I can’t believe that you’ve forgotten you are talking to a woman who married her father’s footman.”
Jago blinked. “I suppose it is true that Worth was a footman when you first met,” he conceded, “but when you married him, he was a wealthy banker.”
“And is that all that stands between you and the first woman I’ve ever seen you show any interest in? Money?”
Jago gave a helpless-sounding laugh. “Surely not the first woman?” Before she could answer he gave a dismissive wave. “Fine, I won’t argue. But that doesn’t matter. And, no, money is not the only matter that stands between us.” He cut her a hard look. “Although I’m sure you must realize that I no longer have the leisure to ignore such mercenary considerations.”
“I understand that you have inherited a situation which is less than desirable.”
He snorted.
“I hope you know that marriage is not the only way out of such a quandary. Indeed, speaking as somebody who was once married for her money, I am the last person to recommend it.”
Jago decided to leave the question of money alone for the moment. “She is only twenty—a mere child.”
“Putting aside the fact that I was married at sixteen and that Lady Trebolton married your brother at seventeen and that most girls of our class are considered to be on the shelf by twenty—”
“Fine, she is not a child,” he conceded. “But what is undeniable is the fact that she is my servant.”
“By circumstance, yes. But her speech, countenance, and behavior indicate that she was raised to be a gentlewoman—before matters beyond her control made living as a woman undesirable—if not necessarily impossible. I recall you telling me that Ben had admitted to being the grandchild of a baronet. Is that still true—or was it part of her disguise? And didn’t she say her father was educated at Oxford? Isn’t that where you went?”