Chapter 7

7

Thirteen days until the wedding…

The next day, Jane was in the middle of her class. With a lightness in her chest and a smile on her lips, she kept reading The History of Little Goody Two-Shoes. Seven pairs of eyes were wide and glistening as the children listened to her.

The difference from yesterday was shocking. Her new approach was working.

This story was entertaining and yet could show them the value of education far better than any of Jane’s own words would. After the first chapter, she asked the children questions and they told her about their favorite parts, and, to her surprise, replied eagerly. She decided to do this after each chapter.

After she finished the book, she’d go back to the alphabet but would still read them stories in between lessons.

On the desk by the left wall, there were plates of cheese and roast beef sandwiches, waiting for lunch. A carafe of lemonade stood nearby. The remnants of the children’s breakfast—white plates almost licked clean of crumbs from oat scones, toast, and pastries—had been cleared away.

Thorne’s cook had complained a little, but he knew better than to argue with the feared and beloved master’s sister, who was the most important thing in the world to him. And Thorne wouldn’t mind. He had a big heart under that cold, cast-iron chest of his, and he gave generously to the community.

When she’d brought him her idea for the school, he hadn’t even blinked an eye before telling her yes, she could have anything she needed for it.

Hercules lay by the door, his head on his paws, lifting it any time Jane’s and his eyes met and wagging his tail. Of course, it didn’t help that the room smelled like food, and he threw sad, impatient glances at the desk with the sandwiches.

Suddenly, Hercules jumped to his feet and stood at the door, yapping without menace, his tail wagging.

“Hercules, down,” Jane said strictly as the children lifted their heads. “I may have made a mistake letting you be here. Maybe you need to take a place at one of those desks and learn reading and writing, too. Sit.”

Hercules stopped barking right away and put down his behind, wriggling his tail as she walked to him. A knock sounded at the door.

When she opened it, the scents of soap, sandalwood, and pepper hit her in the face as a tall, broad-shouldered figure blocked the light coming from the yard.

“Lord Richard,” she said, backing into the room.

Hercules gave him a weak, warning yelp but remained seated.

“Miss Grant,” he said with a short nod. He glanced around at the children, who gawked at the richly dressed man with curiosity. “I was hoping to talk to you.”

Jane’s lungs couldn’t take another breath for a moment. His very presence was like a second sun appearing in the sky—warm and yet odd and mesmerizing.

But she couldn’t let him interrupt her like he had yesterday, especially now that the children had come of their own accord and had been so attentive all morning.

“You must wait,” she said. “The class isn’t finished.”

He had just opened his mouth when she shut the door in his face, only it wouldn’t close all the way. She looked down to see his elegantly booted foot blocking the door.

“I apologize for interrupting,” he said with a small chuckle. His gaze dropped to Hercules. “I’ll wait. But I thought while I do, why don’t I take your beast for a walk? Would you trust your fiancé?”

Her fiancé…her skin tingled at the word, though whether it was with distress or anticipation, she didn’t know. But Hercules whined hopefully at her, his eyes wet and begging.

She sighed. Hercules was bored to death here, and the rakish lord would interrupt again, no doubt.

“Very well,” she said and put a leash on Hercules’s collar. “Be careful.” She looked him over. “There are pickpockets around. And if anything happens to my dog, I’ll find you.”

Richard’s eyes widened in surprise. She handed him the leash, and Hercules darted so quickly out the door, Lord Richard was pulled after him forcefully, leaving only the flash of his crisp white shirt against his rich purple waistcoat as he followed the dog.

Jane suppressed a smile as she closed the door.

“Who was that?” asked Lily.

Coming from a shy girl, the question made Jane chuckle.

“Your sweetheart, ain’t he?” asked Alfie with a cheeky smile.

She couldn’t tell them the truth in case it got back to Thorne. “Well, that was what he said, wasn’t it?”

A combined “ooh” sounded around the room as children exchanged meaningful smiles.

“Hold on…” said Peter. “If you wed ’im, we ain’t gotta do school no more?”

Unlike yesterday’s chaos, there was no yelling, no jumping, no throwing of paper. Just a murmur that ran through the room.

“No,” she said with her heart beating hard. Seeing these sweet faces fill with hope for the first time during their lessons this morning only to see it die again made her own heart break. If she quit the school, she’d only confirm there was no future for them besides the path of poverty and crime—a short life that would likely end at the gallows. “I won’t quit the school even if I do marry. I promise you. I’m here to stay, and I hope you are, as well.”

The very presence of Lord Richard here had been a disruption yet again. The sooner she got him the information he wanted, the sooner he’d be out of her life. The children nodded their heads, and she resumed reading.

Half an hour later, the lesson was over and it was time for lunch. Lord Richard came in with the happy, but dirty, Hercules and watched the children eat their sandwiches.

“No wrinkles on your clothes today, Lord Richard?” she asked. “What a transformation.”

He cocked his eyebrow. “I did not know my clothes concern you.”

Jane scoffed. “They do not. Why did you come?”

“I’d like to invite you for a promenade.”

“I did not know you felt compelled to spend time with me.”

“I feel compelled to satisfy your brother. I must court you publicly. It would be our first outing in society.”

Jane pursed her lips. The thought of this gorgeous, well-bred, rich lord showing an interest in her made her breath quicken.

It was false, she reminded herself. He intended only to satisfy her brother’s conditions. But when she imagined all the matrons of the ton, the dandies riding horses in Hyde Park, the young ladies on the hunt for a husband seeing her with someone like him…judging her with her plain gray and brown clothes…the thought made her stomach twist.

“And we can discuss our plan,” he added. “How we get the information. I have acquired the special license, by the way. As your brother requested, the wedding day is in thirteen days.”

A cold shiver ran through Jane. Thirteen days, heavens…

He was right. They had to hurry. The faster they made their appearances, the more quickly Thorne would be satisfied and at ease. And the sooner they got the information about Lord Richard’s brother, the sooner this farce would be over and she could keep her focus on these children.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll go with you after the children are finished with their food. I’ll let Thorne know he must chaperone us.”

“I already have a chaperone,” he said. “My grandmama. And that’s the thing. You’ll need to be careful with her… My family is already very suspicious, so it will take some fine acting to convince them we’re in love.”

“Right,” said Jane, straightening her spine. “What an ordeal.”

An hour or so later, Jane and Richard walked down the Rotten Row promenade in Hyde Park, with Hercules trotting cheerfully in front of them and Grandmama walking behind. The air was rich with a mixture of flowers and fresh-cut grass, the smell of horse dung, and the occasional waft of expensive perfume or cologne. Birds chattered, bees buzzed, and people talked and laughed around them. Occasionally, hooves slowly thumped against the ground on horse paths as riders passed. Hyde Park was the place for all fashionable ladies and gentlemen to be seen.

Thorne had watched them leave with a stern but approving gaze. Since Richard’s grandmama had refused to come to Whitechapel, Ruby had accompanied them to the park, where the dowager met them and Ruby stayed in the carriage.

The older lady was very nice, but she scanned Jane with skeptical eyes. She’d asked her a few questions about Thorne and herself and how she was. But Richard saved her from further questioning by pointing to some tree or other and insisting they go to see it at once as it was so pretty in the sunlight.

As Jane and Richard walked, Grandmama trailing like the third wheel, Jane couldn’t have felt more out of place. Ruby had no idea how to create any of those fashionable hair styles with perfectly curled locks around the face, nor how to spruce up an old bonnet and add something pretty like a feather or a rose as many ladies had. And it seemed Jane was the only one dressed in dull colors here, with the fabric of her dress thick and practical, rather than light and airy.

Her low heels crunched against the gravel path, and Lord Richard smiled and kept nodding to many people who passed them by. Female heads frequently seemed to turn towards him.

“My family will want to have you for tea,” he said. “And I told them we met before, so we must come up with some explanation as of how.”

“Right,” said Jane. “Which makes it difficult since no one in the ton would accept me as their dinner guest.”

“Not even your old acquaintances through your papa?”

“No. Not even them. But we could say we met at one of their soirées. That lie would hold until we need to break up, wouldn’t it? Your grandmama wouldn’t rush to…say…Lady Elizabeth Fitzroy’s to try and confirm this information?”

Richard chuckled. “I certainly hope not. We just need to keep up the lie long enough for them not to storm into your brother’s office and ruin everything.”

“Very good,” she said. “Then let’s say we met at Lady Fitzroy’s musical soirée.”

“And be prepared to act like you’re in love when you meet my sister and brother,” he warned.

“Of course,” Jane said, her back tensing. How would she ever? She had no idea how to show she was in love. She supposed she needed only to give in to the weakness and warmth of her limbs when she was near this man…

“We need to finish with the ruse as soon as possible,” said Jane, forcing herself to return to logical thinking. “I cannot have you disrupt my life any more than you already have.”

Richard’s jaw tightened. “How do you propose to do that?”

“I know all of Thorne’s main men. There’s Atticus, who’s his right hand, but he’s as loyal as a dog. Still. He has a soft spot for me. I’ll try to talk to him first.”

Three ladies, one older and two younger, in silky, expensive dresses and beautiful spencers, their bonnets boasting constructions of flowers and birds so high they looked a foot taller, passed by and nodded to Richard, who greeted them in return. Just like every other acquaintance he greeted, these three threw very odd glances at her.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea for you to talk to your brother’s men?” he asked. “Aren’t they thieves and robbers and whatnot?”

“Those men would guard my life with their own,” she said. “They’re dangerous but they’re good men at heart. And as Thorne’s sister, they would never allow anyone to harm me.”

“But do not think you’re going to talk to them alone.”

As more noble ladies passed by, one of them threw a very seductive glance at Richard, who gave her a slow, slight nod. Jane didn’t like that lady one bit—she was all willowy grace and smooth, spectacle-free face. So much better looking than Jane. Anger burned through her like acid.

She scoffed. “Lord Richard, you need to be reminded to maintain focus.”

He frowned at her. “Where did you live before Whitechapel, Miss Grant?” he asked.

“Eaglestone House,” she said. “That was our London residence, and we spent autumn and winter in Rosewood Hall, our estate in Wiltshire. The part of Papa’s estate that was tied to his title was forfeited to the Crown since he had no male heirs. However, he managed to leave me a portion of the estate up north which brings a small income.”

Richard looked her over. “Miss Grant, you’re clearly a well-bred and educated woman who knows what she wants. If you want to appear like you’re returning to society, you need to dress to impress.”

Jane’s knees went weak. Dress to impress? The ton was all about balls, soirées, the glittering, rich, excessive world where one thrived by drawing attention to oneself—the right kind of attention. She had abandoned all of that long ago. She was no good at being the center of attention and wished to avoid it at all costs.

“Ah, Lady Whitemouth,” said the Dowager Duchess of Grandhampton behind them. Richard turned and stopped.

Jane turned, as well. Two women had stopped to talk to the dowager. Lady Whitemouth, a regal woman in her fifties, had striking icy blue eyes framed by fine lines. Her faded blond hair, now streaked with silver, was tastefully arranged beneath an exquisite bonnet adorned with delicate white silk ribbons. She was dressed in a luxurious deep violet frock of shiny muslin. Over her dress, she wore a matching velvet spencer embroidered with gold threads, expertly tailored to accentuate her graceful figure.

“Lady Isabella,” Richard greeted a young lady standing next to Lady Whitemouth who looked like her but was perhaps Jane’s age. Curled, shiny blond hair was tucked neatly beneath a charming bonnet adorned with a spray of artificial white flowers. Her striking blue eyes, much like her mother’s, were full of life and curiosity. Her pristine white gown, made from the finest muslin, flowed gracefully over her willowy, feminine frame. A delicate pale blue spencer, embellished with lace trim, was draped over her shoulders.

As the dowager talked to the ladies, Richard leaned closer to Jane’s ear and said, his breath warming her skin, “Lady Whitemouth is, perhaps, the greatest gossip in the ton. This is the perfect chance to spread the word of our engagement.”

“Lord Richard.” The countess turned her attention to him, and Jane tensed. The lady’s eyes were like sharp claws. “Hope you’ve been well?” Her gaze slid to Jane, looking her up and down. “How is His Grace and your dear sister?”

“Everyone’s well,” he said and turned to Jane, his gaze like warm light on her. “Allow me to introduce my fiancée, Miss Jane Grant.”

Lady Whitemouth stammered, her mouth opening and closing in shock. “Well, well,” she said. “You’re the next Seaton to marry, then. Congratulations.”

“The announcement in the papers is coming,” he added.

“Of course it is. Miss Grant…” she said thoughtfully and narrowed her eyes. “Any relation to the deceased baron Lord Grant?”

Jane nodded. “That is my papa.”

The countess’s face paled, and she took a small step back, her hand shooting to Lady Isabella as though to shield her.

“Are you quite all right?” asked the Dowager Duchess of Grandhampton. “You look suddenly ill.”

Lady Whitemouth cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. “I am quite all right. May I inquire as to how your connection even took place? Miss Grant has not been seen in society for years. You’ve never even been out, have you, Miss Grant? So unfortunate, of course, because of your papa’s death.”

Jane’s insides chilled. This was how it would be in the ton for her. They’d all look at her like she was diseased. Like any association with her would tarnish them.

“I have not been out.”

“We were introduced at a small soirée at Lady Fitzroy’s house.”

“The Fitzroys,” said Jane, “were kind enough to remain in touch with me after Papa passed.”

She wanted to get out of this snobbish world as soon as she could. Away from judging eyes and mouths curved in disgust just from hearing her name.

Richard held his grandmama’s gaze for a long time. She frowned at him, her blue eyes piercing.

He then gave a bright smile. “I was completely charmed with Miss Grant’s agreeable qualities and her accomplishments.”

“Ah,” said the countess. “That is wonderful. Are you also of the same opinion regarding Miss Grant’s brother? Is he quite accomplished and agreeable, as well?”

Everyone seemed to hold their breath. The countess knew what she was doing.

Richard, however, shocked even Jane. “Mr. Blackmore is most agreeable, I assure you.”

Lady Whitemouth’s eyes widened. “Miss Grant, do you still live in your papa’s wonderful home? I remember having called on him there once or twice.”

“No,” said Jane. “I live with my brother, who takes care of me and makes sure I’m safe.”

“Where is that?”

“Whitechapel.”

The countess gulped. “I imagine you are quite in need of protection there,” she said.

Jane had nothing to say to that. Yes, she lived among thieves, criminals, and prostitutes, a place where the scum of London gathered in dirty, crumbling houses.

Where Jane was needed and could make a real difference.

The more time she spent in Hyde Park with these people, the more out of place and rejected she felt. Everything about her was wrong for Mayfair society. She didn’t want any part of it. Even though she fondly remembered the polite visits and soirées at her home when Papa and Mama were alive. Years ago, she had belonged to this world.

Now she did not.

And no amount of acting would change that.