Chapter 4
The coach ride from London to Braeleigh was long, and Jessica would not reach home until the next day. She had plenty of time to consider the events of the past evening. She was very confused. Usually, she was aloof and cool, which discouraged men’s advances and kept them at a distance. Those who would not behave felt a sharp rap from her fan and the biting edge of her tongue, her only defense in the unconstrained atmosphere of the gaming hell.
Last night, something had shifted. She had given in to the Duke too easily. She had lost more than just her maidenhood. The Duke had breached a secret part of her that no one else had ever touched before. And it frightened her.
For most of the trip, Jessica kept her thoughts to herself, and Donny dozed as best she could while being bumped around from the ruts in the road. They were the only two passengers in the coach. Not many people traveled out of London at this time of year. The spring social season was coming up soon and people were preparing for the fêtes and balls they would give. The weather was very unpredictable, making travel unpleasant and sometimes hazardous. Just that morning, the sky had been gray and angry and had promised rain before the day ended.
As they stopped to change the horses at a post station, the threatened rain began. Jessica decided that the weather matched her mood perfectly. After a quick refreshment, they embarked again. Dark had fallen by the time they stopped for the night, and they were chilled to the bone. Jessica was very quiet during their supper, and she could feel Donny’s worried looks. When they reached their room, Donny confronted her.
“All right, out with it,” she demanded. “What be yer problem? Are ye sick? Don’t ye feel well?”
“I feel fine,” Jessica protested.
“Ye don’t look fine. Ye be glum all day, hardly said two words, ye did. Aye, and I be thinkin’ it’s got somethin’ to do with that man ye met at that gamblin’ place.”
Jessica forced a laugh. “What man? I have met many men there.”
“Don’t ye be tryin’ t’get out of it. Ye know very well what man I’m talkin’ about. That one that made ye lose.”
“Oh, him.” Jessica pretended indifferent innocence. “Whatever makes you think that? I can’t tell you the last time I saw him.” And that, she thought grimly, was no lie. “Now, are you going to undo my dress, or will I have to do it myself?”
Donny harrumphed and looked like she was about to say something else, but instead, she said nothing. Jessica could tell that Donny did not really believe her. The matter was not discussed any further that night, and Jessica was relieved when they both went to bed without too much more conversation.
The next day dawned sunny and bright, a forerunner of the spring days soon to come. Jessica’s mood lightened considerably. Having slept well, her state of mind was quite different from the day before. She was excited about seeing her brother, Jason, and Braeleigh again, despite the presence of Margaret. The Duke was far away in London, and had no control over her here. She had a feeling of freedom, a feeling she had not felt in a long time.
Jessica made Donny hurry through her breakfast so that they could wait outside for their coach. There was a cool wind, and the older woman grumbled about the cold making her bones ache.
“Oh, Donny,” Jessica laughed. “It’s too beautiful out here to complain.”
Donny scowled. “Hmph. Get yerself in the coach before ye catch yer death.”
Jessica laughed and climbed into the coach, for it was just about ready to leave. In a few hours she would be home. She smiled in anticipation as they started off.
The longer they rode, Jessica began to recognize familiar landmarks. She shook Donny’s arm and pointed. “There’s the Whittington farm. We get off at the next bend in the road.”
She rapped on the roof of the coach, and it slowed and came to a halt. She and Donny descended, and their valises were tossed down. They would now have a long walk to get to Braeleigh, unless someone passed by and could give them a ride. Margaret did not see the need to send a carriage to pick up her stepdaughter and a servant.
Jessica and Donny had not been walking long when they heard a horse and wagon behind them. Looking back, Jessica recognized one of the farmers from the area. He pulled up beside them and stopped.
“Good day to ye, Yer Ladyship, Mistress Donlin,” he greeted them with a bob of his head and lift to his hat. “Can I be givin’ ye a ride to the manse?”
“That would be very kind of you, Mr. Stockham,” Jessica answered.
“Well, then climb aboard. I be on my way there now with a load of eggs.” He helped them clamber to the seat beside him, then clucked to his horse and they started off.
“Home again to visit Her Ladyship, I see,” Mr. Stockham observed. “Yer a good child, Lady Jessica.”
Jessica smiled at him but remained silent.
“Won’t be too peaceful at the manse, I fear,” he went on.
“Oh?” Jessica asked.
“Yep. Her Ladyship be fixin’ the ol’ place over. Workers there all the time.”
“Really?” Jessica said as she exchanged a glance with Donny. “Well, I suppose it needed it.”
“Ye know that better’n I, Yer Ladyship.”
Mr. Stockham lapsed into silence then, and Jessica wondered what Margaret was up to. Several minutes later, the wagon turned into the drive of Braeleigh. It was not an overly large house in comparison to other country manors of the nobility, but it was old and had an honorable history. It had been built by the first Earl of Braeleigh. The land had been bestowed on him by Edward III for the earl’s heroics in the battle of Agincourt during the Hundred Years’ War. The original square stone structure had been added to with a wing on each side, yet it had lost none of its charm. It was built of stones of an unusual tan color, and sitting on a rise as it did, it was visible from a great distance. A parapet topped the roof of the oldest section, where the first earl’s men could stand guard, and a moat surrounded the hill where it stood.
As they crossed the small drawbridge which was now permanently lowered, Jessica’s eyes widened in shock. Workmen swarmed around the house and in and out through the great, wooden door. What was Margaret up to this time? And where did she get the money for all these workmen? Certainly, the stipend that Jessica brought her every month was not enough to pay all these people.
Jessica and Donny looked at each other in anger and shock, then back again at the house. Mr. Stockham pulled up in front of the door and jumped down from the wagon. After helping Donny down, he helped Jessica. Tipping his hat, he said, “Good day to ye, Lady Jessica. ’Tis good to have ye home again.”
“Thank you, Mr. Stockham,” she said and smiled through her embarrassment. The villagers were obviously gossiping about the strange goings on at Braeleigh and Lady Margaret’s antics. She even suspected they were aware of why she went to London and came back every month. It pained her to see the dignity of the family title degraded so.
Holding back a sigh, Jessica went to find Margaret to ask her the meaning of all the activity that was taking place. She had to walk around several ladders and groups of paint cans, and climb over piles of rolled-up carpets. She finally found her stepmother in the study. As usual, Margaret’s blonde hair was coifed to perfection, her long-sleeved, yellow and blue striped woolen dress the height of fashion. She was still beautiful despite the passing years, but to Jessica, it was a cold beauty. A mask that hid an ugly heart.
Various swatches of material were spread out before her, and she was studying them intently. Several moments passed before she looked up, condescending to acknowledge Jessica’s presence. Her hazel gaze was cool.
Without a greeting, Margaret said, “Jessica, my dear, come, sit down and help me decide on a color for my dressing room.”
Jessica did not move from her spot several paces inside the door of the room. Instead, she demanded, “Margaret, what is all this? What is going on here?”
“Why, I am redecorating, of course,” Margaret answered, her voice full of amazement at Jessica’s slowness of wit. “Anyone with half a brain can see that.”
“Margaret, don’t play games with me. You know what I am talking about. Where did you get the funds?” Jessica’s voice remained hard.
“My, my, your months in London have certainly made you cynical.” Margaret leaned back and coolly looked Jessica in the eye. “Don’t you have a friendly hello for your stepmother?”
Jessica fought to keep her temper in check. “Believe me, Margaret, when I tell you that any greeting I give you will be far from friendly. How can we afford this redecorating?”
Margaret sighed as if her patience were taxed. “Ah, well, if you must know. It would seem that your father was not such a fool as I thought. He had invested in quite a large parcel of land in that wretched place, America. Land-wise, Jason is a very rich little boy. Since he is too young to control his estate, as his stepmother and guardian, I have taken that worry out of his hands.”
“So, you are using my brother’s inheritance for your own pleasure.” Jessica tried to assimilate the fact that Jason, at least, was no longer poor.
“I am using it only as collateral, my dear,” Margaret explained as if to a slow–witted child.
“When did you discover this land?” Jessica asked suspiciously.
“Why, just several weeks ago, after your last visit. You don’t think I would have kept it a secret from my lovely stepdaughter, do you?” Her question was sly.
“To be truthful, Margaret, I do not know what to think.” Jessica finally sat down. The shock of the news of the inheritance had turned her knees weak. A thought occurred to her. “Why didn’t we find out about this land at the time of my father’s death?”
Margaret raised her eyebrows and asked mildly, “Are you questioning my integrity, Jessica?”
Jessica looked back at her stepmother without saying a word.
With a shrug, Margaret mused, “I suppose the young are always suspicious.” She smoothed her skirt. “The solicitor arrived shortly after your last visit and informed me that your dear father had large holdings in America. Imagine! And he never even told me.”
Jessica thought he probably did not tell her many things. “Then you will no longer require the stipend that I bring you every month?” she asked casually.
“On the contrary, my dear. And let us not quibble over words.” Margaret gave an airy wave of her hand. “Let us call it what it really is: ransom.”
“Ransom?” Jessica repeated, feeling rather stupid for not understanding.
“Yes, my dear, ransom. Ransom for your…ah…freedom.”
Jessica’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Margaret, what are you talking about?”
“Do not be stupid,” Margaret answered in a hard voice. “Do you think I was going to marry you to Sir Percival just for the legal right to get you in his bed? You certainly cannot be as naïve as that. I want you out of this house, you simpering little fool, and I want Jason out of your influence. You can either get married, or you can pay me every month. Either way, it makes no difference to me. Just remember, I am still your legal guardian. If you find some young buck who is willing to marry you, just make sure he has plenty of money so that he can pay for that dubious honor.”
Jessica was stunned by her stepmother’s cruelty, yet her thoughts fastened only on the least of Margaret’s dictates.
“But my father assured me I would have a dowry,” she protested.
“Then you do have a problem, don’t you, my dear?” Margaret’s smile was cruel.
“What of Jason?” Jessica asked, trying very hard to remain calm. “Will you throw him out, also?”
“On the contrary,” Margaret answered. “He is the Earl of Braeleigh. He needs guidance and help in running the estate. Who better to help him than his loving stepmother?”
The conversation was making Jessica feel ill, but before she left the room, she had to ask one last question. “Will I still be able to visit my brother?”
Margaret laughed as though she found her stepdaughter very amusing. “Of course. How else will I get your payments every month? Our agreement still stands as it did before. It is only the reasons which have changed. Now, be a good girl, and find the cloth merchant for me. I think I will do the walls of my dressing room in yellow silk… or perhaps the pink brocade.”
Margaret leaned forward and studied the cloth swatches in front of her.
Jessica rose slowly from her chair and walked from the room. She ignored Margaret’s demand to find the cloth merchant and climbed the stairs. Her mind was reeling. She could not believe she had just been thrown out of her own house. Somehow, she had thought that eventually she would have been able to quit her life in London and return to Braeleigh. Now, that did not seem possible while Margaret was still alive.
The hard words of the Duke came back to haunt her. No man would pay to marry a woman of questionable reputation, especially one who had been thrown out of her own home. Jessica sighed deeply. The prospect of becoming the Duke’s mistress did not seem such a terrible fate. At least, she would be well cared for. Jessica shook her head to dispel her gloomy thoughts. She would not think of these things now. She would fetch Jason, and they would go riding together.
When she reached the door of the schoolroom, she found Jason in the middle of a fencing lesson. After several minutes, Jason finally scored. The fencing master called out the required, “Touché!” Jessica sensed Jason grinning behind his mask, and then he saw her.
“Jessica!” He dropped his sword, ripped off his mask, and ran to his sister’s side. Jessica gave him a quick hug. He had grown in the month she had been away, the top of his dark head nearly reaching her own.
The fencing master cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon, m’lady, but the young lord has not finished his fencing lesson.”
“Yes, I know.” Jessica nodded with a smile. “Thank you. That will be all for today. You may inform the Earl’s other tutors that he will not be at lessons for the rest of the day.”
“Yahoo!” Jason yelled. “No more studying today! Thanks, Jess.”
The fencing master bowed to Jessica and then saluted Jason with his sword. Her brother sloppily returned the salute.
Jason turned to Jessica, his blue eyes bright with expectation. “What’ll we do, Jess?”
Jessica laughed. “First, you are to change your clothes, then we’ll have something to eat, and then we’ll go riding. How does that sound?”
“First rate!”
Jason put his sword away, discarded his fencing mask and padded vest, and raced out of the room. Jessica watched him go, and the smile faded from her lips. She would never let on to her brother how cruel Margaret was. But she could share her troubles with Donny while the woman helped her change.
After donning her riding clothes, Jessica met Jason in the kitchen. Before she had left Braeleigh, she would very often forego dining in the great, empty, formal dining room so that she and Jason could eat together in the kitchen. There, they would be able to laugh and tell each other stories without incurring Margaret’s wrath. Jessica had continued the tradition on her visits home.
After a delightful lunch together with much laughter, the brother and sister headed out to the stables. Their horses were saddled and waiting for them. Jessica’s horse, Aphrodite, had been given to her by her father when it was just a foal.
Jessica greeted her softly and rubbed her velvety nose. The animal whinnied and shook its head in greeting. She missed not being able to ride while in London, and always looked forward to it when she came home. She and Jason mounted, then trotted out of the stable yard.
When they were out in open country, Jason called to her, “I’ll race you to Eagle Rock!” Without waiting for his sister’s reply, he dug in his heels and galloped off. Jessica laughed and raced after him.
They both rode very well, but Jessica had the advantage of several years more experience than her younger brother, and she easily caught up with him. They raced side by side until they had almost reached their goal, then Jessica eased up and allowed Jason to win the race.
As they slowed their horses and brought them to a stop, Jason looked at his sister with disappointment. “Aw, Jess, you let me win,” he complained.
Jessica looked aghast. “How can you think such a thing?”
Jason sent her a suspicious look.
They dismounted and allowed the horses to graze. Jessica took a deep breath of clear country air. Eagle Rock was an outcropping of several large rocks on a small rise at the edge of the land belonging to Braeleigh. It overlooked the countryside in one direction, and the sea in another. This had been Jessica’s private spot to think. It was now their refuge away from their stepmother and her servants who always reported everything back to their mistress.
“This is so peaceful,” Jessica said. “It’s all yours now, Jason. How does it feel to be an earl?”
The boy shrugged. “All right, I guess. Margaret doesn’t give me much time to enjoy it.”
“Has she been very terrible?” Jessica noticed the shadowy smudges beneath his eyes.
“She has me taking fencing lessons, history, French, Latin, Italian, etiquette lessons and dancing lessons. I never get to ride.” At this last he made a face. “I wish you could live here with me again, Jess. It’s no fun anymore.” He looked very sad and young.
Jessica put her arm around his shoulders and sighed. “I know, Jason. It’s not really fun for me either. I miss you terribly. But Margaret doesn’t like me for some reason, and until I can think of a way out of this mess, we’ll have to go along with what she says.”
Jason brightened suddenly. “I have scads of money now. Did you know that? I can help you.”
Jessica laughed. “I know you have scads of money, my lord, Earl of Braeleigh.”
“Well?” he asked. “Why can’t I help you?”
Jessica shook her head. “It’s not that simple. Margaret has control of your money. She wouldn’t let you use it to help me.”
“That’s not fair. I hate her!” Jason exclaimed.
Jessica gave her brother another hug. “I know, but for now, we’ll have to do as she says. Things won’t always be like this. Come on,” she said, poking him in the ribs. “Let’s go to the village. Maybe the baker has made tarts.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon in the village visiting and exploring the businesses and shops. Jason was delighted to watch the blacksmith work. He was fascinated by the rhythmic clanging of hammer against anvil, and the change that occurred in a piece of metal as the smithy worked on it. The baker had made tarts, and Jessica bought some, which Jason devoured.
The sun was beginning to set when they finally left. They galloped back to Braeleigh, so they would arrive before dark. Jessica guessed that Margaret would be fuming because she had spirited Jason away from his tutors.
When they finally walked into the house, Jessica knew she had not been wrong. They received the message from Foy, the butler, that Margaret was waiting for them in the salon. Glancing at each other with a knowing look, they entered the room.
“Did you wish to see us, Margaret?” Jessica asked.
Margaret was drumming her fingers on the arm of the chair where she was sitting. “Don’t play the innocent with me, Jessica. Where have you been all afternoon?”
“Out riding,” Jessica said. Jason edged closer to his sister.
“Obviously,” Margaret stated dryly. “You were in the village, weren’t you?” she accused. “I have given Jason specific orders that he is not to associate with that riffraff.” Turning to him, she said, “You deliberately disobeyed me, Jason. You will go to your room and go without dinner tonight. Tomorrow you will spend at your lessons and will not be allowed to see your sister.”
“But Margaret, she’s leaving tomorrow!” Jason wailed.
“I cannot help that,” Margaret said coldly. “You should have thought of that before you disobeyed me. Now, leave us. Jessica and I have some matters to discuss that do not involve bad boys.”
Jason looked to his sister in confusion, tears bright in his eyes. Jessica squeezed his shoulder and nodded that he should do as he was told. She watched as he walked from the room in dejection. Her heart ached for him, but she knew that if she had come to his defense, his punishment would have been much worse.
When he had gone, she turned back to her stepmother. “That was cruel, Margaret,” she said boldly. “He has done nothing wrong. I was the one who suggested we go to the village.”
“It is not your concern any more how I discipline Jason. You are no longer a member of this household. Now, there is the matter of a payment due. I would like to receive it before dinner.”
“You will have it,” Jessica answered stiffly, as she held her emotions in tight check. “Is there anything else you wish to discuss with me?
“Yes. If you persist in disrupting this household when you come, then I will not allow you to visit with Jason when you are here.”
“You cannot mean that,” Jessica protested in spite of her resolve to remain calm.
“Oh, but I do mean it. And I think I will require that you bring me double what you are bringing now. After all, you have had nearly a year of experience, so it should be much easier for you.” She flicked an imaginary piece of lint off the skirt of her dress.
“I cannot bring you that much money, Margaret. I need money to live.”
“Then you will have to find another way to raise it.” She yawned behind her hand. “I believe I will take a short rest before dinner.” She rose abruptly and swept from the room.
Jessica stood for a moment, not quite believing the conversation she’d just had with her stepmother, then wandered from the salon. Encountering Foy, she informed him she would be dining in her room. As she slowly climbed the stairs, she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Damn! She was not going to let that woman make her cry.
She ran the rest of the way to her room and closed the door firmly behind her. The last rays of the sun were shining through the window and turned everything a fiery gold. Jessica smiled wryly to herself. Too bad one couldn’t catch the sunbeams. Then Margaret could have all the riches she wanted.
Jessica undressed down to her chemise and crawled under the covers of the bed. She was so tired. Tired of the gambling, tired of the cruelty of Margaret, tired of the arrogance of the Duke. Why couldn’t things have remained as they were? But she knew that could never have happened. Tomorrow, it was back to London. On her way, she had to deliver the letter to Monsieur Montaigne from Madame du Barré. With these thoughts running through her mind, she fell asleep.
When she awoke, it was dark. It took her several seconds to remember why she was lying in bed in her old room. Memory was not sweet when it returned. She still had to give Margaret her stipend. She rose, pulled on a dressing gown and tied it carelessly. Her hair had come undone during her nap, so she pulled out the pins and ran a brush through it. Then, picking up the pouch containing the money, she went in search of her stepmother.
Margaret was in her own room. She was primping before the mirror and did not even look up when Jessica walked in.
“I’ve brought your money, Margaret,” Jessica said as she threw the pouch on the dressing table before her stepmother.
Margaret picked it up and weighed it in her hand. “Is it all here?” she asked sweetly.
“Margaret, I hope you burn in Hell,” Jessica said hotly, then turned and fled.
She stalked down the hall, her thoughts on what she would like to see happen to Margaret. As she turned a corner, she bumped into a footman, one who had been newly hired by her stepmother. She gasped as he grabbed her arms and yanked her close.
“Well, now, ain’t we a sight?” he leered as his gaze focused on her cleavage which was plainly visible beneath her gapping robe.
“Let go of me this instant!” Jessica tried to pull out of his hands. “I’ll have you dismissed for this impertinence!”
“Now, don’t go gettin’ all upset there, m’lady. How’s about a little kiss for ol’ Dickie?”
Jessica was shocked into immobility, and her mouth dropped open. Recovering quickly, she struggled to get away. “How dare you! Let go of me!”
The man was short, but built like a bull, with hardly any neck and muscular shoulders. His fingers dug painfully into her arms, and her efforts to free herself proved fruitless. She found herself crushed against his barrel chest. Her head was pulled back by the hair, and he planted his wet, foul mouth on hers. For once, she was grateful for the experience she had gained at Madame’s. Using all her strength, she slammed her knee up into his groin. With a yowl of pain, he released her and clutched the injured area. As she turned to flee, she saw Margaret standing not far away with a smile on her face. Jessica ran down the hall to the safety of her room. Her stepmother’s laughter chased after her.
Locking the door behind her, she wondered if her stepmother might have instigated the footman’s advances. Matters were getting worse every time she came home. She had to think of some way to get out of this predicament, something that would also get Jason out of Margaret’s clutches. Even if she married someone, that would not guarantee her brother’s safety, for Margaret would still be his guardian.
Ideas and plans swirled inside Jessica’s head all evening. Her dinner came, but it remained untouched. By the time the clock in the hall had struck eleven, she still had not arrived at any solution.
Remembering that Jason went to bed without any dinner, she decided to smuggle food to him. She hoped Margaret had already retired for the night. Carefully she unlocked her door and opened it. The house was quiet. Noiselessly as possible, she made her way downstairs to the kitchen. There, she found some apples, cheese, and bread, tied them in a napkin, and tiptoed back upstairs.
As she opened the door to Jason’s room and crept in, a small voice came from the bed. “Who’s there?”
“Shh. It’s me,” Jessica whispered. She crossed to the bed and sat on its edge. “I’ve brought you something to eat.” She placed the napkin on Jason’s lap and opened it to reveal her treasure.
“First rate! Thanks, Jess,” he mumbled, popping a piece of cheese in his mouth.
She waited quietly while he ate his snack, then, when he was done, she took the napkin and stuffed it in her pocket. “So, I won’t get you in trouble again,” she explained with a smile. Becoming serious, she said, “I won’t be able to see you tomorrow. I’m leaving early because I have to visit someone on the way back to London. Besides, if Margaret caught us together again, she would probably tan your hide.”
“Can’t you take me with you, Jess?” Jason asked wistfully.
For just a moment, Jessica was tempted to say yes, but then reality wiped away the temptation. She remembered the first time she had tried to leave with Jason, and Margaret had caught them. Jason had not been able to sit down for a week, and Jessica had been locked in her room and unable to leave for London until Margaret decided she wanted the money more than the enjoyment of watching Jessica suffer.
Jessica shook her head. “I can’t right now, Jason. But one day, I’m going to bring you with me, and then we won’t have to worry about Margaret any more. Until then, I want you to do as she says. She has complete authority over you, so if you disobey her, she can punish you.”
“She’s so mean,” Jason protested, his lips trembling.
“I know.”
Jessica put her arms around him, and they sat holding on to each other, gaining strength from the other’s nearness for several minutes. Her resolve hardened to free her brother from Margaret. After the episode in the hall with the footman, she was not sure that their stepmother was completely sane. But for now, Jason was better off at Braeleigh than in London.
Jason yawned.
“I think it’s time that you went to sleep,” Jessica said.
“Stay a few minutes longer, Jess,” Jason pleaded.
Jessica shook her head. “I can’t. It’s late, and you should be asleep. What if Margaret found me in here with you?”
Reluctantly, Jason nodded his agreement and lay back on the pillows.
“Now, be brave, and I’ll be back at Braeleigh before you know it.” Jessica leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.
Before she could straighten, Jason put his arms around her and gave her a hug. “I’m going to miss you, Jess,” he whispered.
“I’m going to miss you, too.” Gently, she disengaged herself and stood up. “Watch from the window early tomorrow. I’ll wave to you when I leave.”
She turned and rushed out, not wanting him to see how upset she was. Jessica knew that would only make it harder for both of them. Returning to her room, she made sure her door was locked, then climbed into bed. Sleep did not come easily. Thoughts of Jason and Margaret and the Duke kept chasing themselves around in her head. After several hours of tossing and turning, she finally fell into a troubled sleep.
Morning came much too early for Jessica. The sun was streaming through the window when she opened her eyes, but she felt as if she had not slept at all. Knowing she could not remain in bed, she forced herself to rise. Madame du Barré’s letter had to be delivered before she caught the coach back to London, and she wanted to be away from Braeleigh as soon as possible. She had the feeling that Jason had an easier time with Margaret when he was here by himself.
Dressing quickly, she went down to breakfast. The dining room was empty, for which she was very grateful. She was in no mood to spar with Margaret.
As she was finishing her meal, Foy entered to announce that her horse was saddled and in the front drive. She would ride to Monsieur Montaigne’s on horseback to deliver the letter, then ride to the inn where Donny would be waiting for her with their luggage. From there, they would board the coach for the ride back to London. The innkeeper would make sure that Aphrodite would be returned to Braeleigh.
As she was rising from the table, Margaret sauntered in. “All ready to leave?” she asked. “What a pity you can’t stay with us a while longer. Dickie was so disappointed he was unable to finish what he began last night.”
Jessica did not bother to answer. She walked out of the room with Margaret’s cackle ringing in her ears.
Quickly donning her hat and gloves, she left the house. She glanced up at the front of the house and saw Jason in a window. She smiled, threw him a kiss, then waved as she wheeled her horse and cantered down the drive.
Being out in the open helped to clear her mind. Her thoughts were still troubled, but she felt a weight had been lifted from her shoulders because she was away from Margaret. The problem of the Duke which now faced her seemed small in comparison to the villainy of her stepmother. She forced those thoughts out of her mind. She was free for several hours, and she was on her way to visit a very charming gentleman.
After an hour and a half of easy riding, Jessica came to the home of Monsieur Montaigne. It was a neat, compact house, barely bigger than a cottage. Standing on a grassy cliff, it overlooked a stony beach about twenty feet below. A steep path zigzagged down to the water. Except for his housekeeper, he lived alone.
As Jessica dismounted from Aphrodite, Monsieur Montaigne came to the door. “Mademoiselle Jessica!” he exclaimed. “I was hoping you would come today,” he said in French. “You look more lovely each time I see you, like a flower ready to bloom.”
Jessica laughed. “Bonjour, monsieur, and thank you. Your compliments always make my head spin.”
She had answered him in French. Their conversations were always in that language, for Monsieur Montaigne said it made him feel as if he were back in his own country. He was a middle-aged man with twinkling brown eyes and hair beginning to gray at the temples. He wore it tied back in an old-fashioned queue. His clothes were modest, and instead of a cravat or stock, he wore a red kerchief about his neck.
After tying Aphrodite to a hitching post, she held out her hand. Monsieur Montaigne bent over it gallantly, then strolled with her to his house. Jessica noticed he leaned heavily on his cane, and realized his leg was giving him a great deal of pain. He’d told her he’d been badly injured fighting for King Louis during the Revolution. Because of his loyalty to his sovereign, he was forced to flee France or be executed with the other Royalists. Now, an ex-patriot and outcast in his own country, he lived in England.
Jessica stopped to admire the early flowers beginning to bloom beside his door. A movement in the trees beyond the house caught her attention, and she peered in that direction trying to see what it was.
“Mademoiselle, what is it?” Monsieur Montaigne asked.
Jessica squinted against the sun, then turned to her host with an apologetic smile. “I thought I saw something move in the woods, but there seems to be nothing. It was only my imagination.”
“Ah, the mind does like to play tricks on us, yes? Come, I will make you some tea. My housekeeper has gone to the village.” Taking Jessica’s hand, he tucked it into the crook of his arm and escorted her into his house.
Jessica spent a very enjoyable hour with the gentleman. She always delighted in these visits, for her host was a charming and gallant man. It was easy to understand why Madame du Barré was so fond of him. The time of her departure came much too soon. When she left, she carried a missive back to Madame. She would deliver it the following evening.