Chapter 7

Jude had hardly dared hope, but sure enough Miss Banks continued to grow stronger every day. He no longer held her hand as she was no longer critically ill. He did visit and read poetry and passages from a novel called Sense and Sensibility, written simply by an anonymous lady. He found the characters engaging and realistic, and Miss Banks smiled and laughed out loud at some of the descriptions.

The quarantine ended, with Mrs. Driscoll, Barton, Jake, Nurse Walters, and himself all out of danger. The biggest relief had been when Dr. Carstairs had confirmed that if Sasha had been ill before her mama, she would have immunity to the putrid sore throat.

Miss Banks remained weak, but as she gained strength, Nurse Walters supervised as Miss Banks was fed broth and nourishing light meals.

Nurse Walters ordered him out of the sickroom. "Your Grace, I was glad of your assistance when Miss Banks was close to death. It's different now. It isn't seemly for you to be in and out of her room each day." She paused, and he became aware she had guessed the depth of his feelings for Miss Banks.

"You can visit in the afternoon and in the evening, but that's it," she stipulated, and he knew there was no arguing with her.

Jude focused on practicalities, determined to locate Sasha's family. The news from Daniel was that, up until now, he had been unable to find anyone who knew the child or her mother, but he would keep trying. Even though Napoleon was now imprisoned on the Island of Elba, there was still significant turmoil in France, which made enquiries difficult.

What of Miss Banks?Thought Jude. He was intrigued to know more about her family, but she had been surprisingly reticent about her home and childhood. All he had been able to glean from her so far was that her family had fallen on hard times, and she was taking up the post of governess in Harrogate. He felt honor-bound to ensure the family in the north was informed of her whereabouts. Miss Banks had said she would write to them but that was before she fell ill.

Jude was also concerned that her family should be made aware of her illness and a message should be sent to them. They would be concerned about her and may already be aware she had not arrived in Harrogate to take up the post there.

He found Mrs. Driscoll in the parlor, embroidering a linen cloth with Sasha sitting beside her, playing with a spinning top.

"You'll take tea with us, Your Grace?" Mrs. Driscoll said, offering him a seat.

"I think Miss Sasha is glad to see you." As Mrs. Driscoll said it, Sasha stood to curtsy and he gave a little formal bow back, smiling at the child's knowledge of etiquette. Sasha soon returned to play with the set of spinning tops and his mind filled with the memories of that first night with Miss Banks, her eyes bright, determined to win a game of tops.

"Can you play spinning tops, sir?" Sasha asked him. "Mrs. Driscoll is not as good as Miss Banks, and I always win."

"I can, indeed, play tops. As soon as I've spoken with Mrs. Driscoll, we shall have a game."

The little girl clapped her hands, giggling excitedly.

"I wanted your advice," he began tentatively. "It appears Miss Banks is out of danger, although she is still seriously ill."

"I know, Your Grace. Sasha wishes to visit her, but the doctor has advised total quiet and rest," agreed Mrs. Driscoll, putting her sewing to one side.

"The thought of her family not knowing her whereabouts concerns me," said Jude. "I feel we ought to be trying to locate them. I plan to instruct Mr. Young to search for any relatives, but it occurs to me that there may be something in her possessions that could give us information on who we can contact."

"We have known her for such a short time before she became ill that I have no clue about her family." Mrs. Driscoll said. She hesitated before continuing. "If I may say, Your Grace, she seemed reluctant to talk about home. Some people talk about their family all the time, but I don't think Miss Banks mentioned her family once in our conversations."

"I feel it incumbent on me to take the decision to look through her room and see if there is any address for her family," Jude informed her. "I do not take this decision lightly and would have preferred to ask her permission, but the Doctor is adamant she has no stress and much of the time she is still hardly conscious. I would be grateful if you would help me check her belongings."

"Of course, Your Grace," Mrs. Driscoll replied. "I think that would be wise."

However, before they could go and search through Miss Banks' things, Jude kept his promise to play spinning tops with Sasha. He smiled as she clapped her hands in delight at the speed of the tops clattering across the floor.

After a number of games, some of which he allowed Sasha to win, Jude sent Sasha with Rosie to ask Cook for currant cake and milk. Then Jude and Mrs. Driscoll went to Miss Banks' room and began to search through her possessions.

‘Let's start with her portmanteau," suggested Mrs. Driscoll. "I doubt she ever got around to unpacking it. I still feel uneasy about this, but you are right, Your Grace, there may be family who are worrying about her."

"I know. If only she was awake and coherent long enough to tell us who to contact."

Jude pulled out the portmanteau, noticing, as he did so, the high quality of the workmanship. Mrs. Driscoll opened it and cautiously looked inside.

"There is a letter here," she took it out, looking at the envelope. "Now, let me see, it's addressed to Lady Audrey Rowe." She paused. "With your permission, Your Grace, I'm going to open the letter."

Jude nodded his assent and Mrs. Driscoll took the letter out of its envelope. "Ah, it's from a Mrs. Francine Weston, and there is an address," she declared.

"Excellent," Said Jude. "Is it a London address?"

"Indeed, Your Grace, and an address of quality." She handed him the letter. "From the tone, I'd say they were close friends. However…" She paused. "The mystery of Lady Audrey Rowe remains. Could that be our Miss Banks?"

"It looks that way," said Jude, looking puzzled. "But we mustn"t jump to conclusions."

"There are many young ladies of quality whose families fall on hard times and need them to seek employment as a governess or companion," said Mrs. Driscoll. "It's unusual for it to be a lady, though. I suggest we find Mrs. Weston and tell her about her friend."

"I'll get Mr. Young on to it immediately," responded Jude.

"Why not just send a letter to Mrs. Weston? I doubt it needs the formality of Mr. Young being involved," Mrs. Driscoll suggested, looking a little worried. "I just hope we are doing the right thing."

"Now we have details of Mrs. Weston, it seems sensible to contact her. For all we know, Miss Banks" family may be very worried about her whereabouts. We could ask Miss Banks, but she is still very ill, and the doctor says we should do nothing to upset her. It seems unfair on her family not to let them know as soon as we can," said Jude. "I feel equally uneasy, but it is the right thing to do."

Jude still felt that sense of unease as he sat at his walnut writing desk to pen a letter to Mrs. Francine Weston. He swore as the ink splattered across the page, spoiling his first attempt, and he sharpened his pen and, taking another sheet of parchment, started again.

There it was done. He took the letter over to the stable and asked Jake to take it to the address in Knightsbridge.

***

Jude's priority was for Sasha to be settled into a routine, to help her adjust to the changes she had experienced in such a short time. Now that quarantine had ended, the wider household could be involved in looking after little Sasha. Cook would help keep her occupied, with her endless offerings of cookies, cake, and fruit jellies. Rosie could continue with ideas for games and activities in the house and garden.

The next day, Jude suggested Rosie take Sasha for a walk tothe stables where Barton set up a little cart to take her for a ride around the mews near the house.

He watched the look of pure joy on Sasha's face as the pony and cart trundled up and down the mews. The rest of the day was full of requests to visit the stables again, and questions about what horses eat, and could she help look after them.

He smiled, knowing she would love life at the Clairville country estate once they could leave London. With no leads on her family it was possible she would become a long-term ward of the family.

Jude visited Miss Banks for an hour after supper, with Nurse Walters as chaperone. Her expression brightened as he entered the room.

"Your Grace, have you come to read the book by the lady? I long to find out if Elinor marries Willoughby. The lady writes such a compelling story, I didn't think I could find a writer I enjoyed as much as Mrs. Radcliffe, but Sense and Sensibility is wonderful.

He smiled and took out the book from behind his back, "I have some poetry too, the latest by Lord Byron."

"It proves to be a lovely evening. A good book, a roaring fire," and she paused, looking at him with her wide eyes, "and good company." She gestured for him to be seated. "Nurse Walters says Sasha can spend time with me tomorrow. I truly am on the mend now. I can only thank you for your kindness in caring for me while I've been ill."

"Miss Banks, you were a guest in need. We have all been through a traumatic series of events. Now, let us read the novel. I think our heroine will soon prefer Colonel Brandon."

He watched Miss Banks close her eyes as he read the next chapter. It felt so right, sitting there, reading to the most intriguing woman he had ever met. He dreaded these intimate evenings ending as Miss Banks grew stronger. There was no relationship between them, and Nurse Walters had already suggested the proprieties needed to be observed, now that Miss Banks was recovering, and the quarantine had ended.

Jude had vivid memories of those nights when he had sat in that very place, watching Miss Banks toss and turn, burning with fever, no one sure if she would live or die. He knew Nurse Walters was right and he needed to pull back from this level of closeness. He didn't want this time to end but knew it couldn't continue this way.

He was very aware of his conflicting emotions. When Miss Banks had been near death, he had known he could not lose her. He imagined her in his life, meeting his family, betrothal, living a life together at Clairville. Dreams with no basis in reality. Delusions.

How could he follow such a course? He had formed an attraction that had been heightened by close confinement, and the desperate fear of losing this woman who had filled every waking thought.

He needed some time to consider how he felt about Miss Banks. He didn't know what he wanted, and, on reflection, it might be better to spend some time apart. Miss Banks had arrived in his life and ambushed his emotions, and he needed to put the fragmented feelings into some sort of order. Yes, he was attracted to Miss Banks, but he'd been attracted to many women in the past, and it was likely there would be many more in the future.

But he felt sure that a close connection had developed between them, accelerated by events, but growing stronger. What if the connection was cut? At this moment he shuddered at the thought of not seeing her every day. He already missed holding her hand and, at the height of the fever, holding her in his arms, willing her to fight and get well. He suspected he would lose part of himself now if he never saw Miss Banks again.

Damn. I will conquer these feelings. I must be lonely to be bewitched by a governess. Maybe my mother is right, and I do need to marry.

He would complete reading the book as to end their evening soirées now would be churlish. But after that, the social relationship between employer and governess needed to be reestablished.

There was the added complication of the letter, and whether Miss Banks was really who she said she was. Who was Lady Audrey Rowe? There were other explanations for her having the letter, she may have taken it from Lady Audrey, but to him, the obvious explanation was that Miss Banks and Audrey were the same person.

He would like to ask her, but that would have to wait until she was well enough. In the meantime, he might still hear from Mrs. Weston with an explanation.

Jude saw that Miss Banks had drifted off to sleep, and so he closed the book of poems and stood to leave her bedchamber.

He turned back as he reached the door, so much uncertainty, so many complications. He was glad Miss Banks was recovering, yet part of him longed for those days of quarantine and the ease with which they had lived without the strict rules of society. He felt the rules and regulations of the ton, of polite society, closing in with more constraint than during their confinement in quarantine.

The fire had already been lit in his library, and he was not ready to retire to bed, so Jude settled himself in a chair to read. He had only just started when, hearing a tapping on the door, he looked up.

His valet, Robert, had returned to duty now quarantine had ended, and he now appeared through the door.

"I have correspondence, Your Grace. I'd leave it until tomorrow, but there is a letter from Mr. Young, and several letters came by express from the estate," Robert informed him.

"Thank you, Robert, it will be a welcome change. I'm not really in the mood to read," Jude replied.

Robert put a silver salver with several letters on the table. Recognizing his master"s mood, he went to the oak side table on which stood several crystal decanters and glasses and poured Jude a glass of cognac.

Jude nodded his thanks and gestured for Robert to join him by the fire. "I'd welcome your company, Robert. This trip to London hasn't been what I expected. Hell, I seem to have acquired custody of a child, a ward. How did that happen?"

He looked through the pile of letters, taking the one with his mother's handwriting. "It's mostly estate news. She's expecting me to return and bring Sasha. She tells me, in her typical style, that she hopes to see me at Clairville within ten days.

Apparently, there's a group of guests arriving for a house party, and she has invited a young lady of, as she puts it, grace and style, who she particularly wants me to meet." He disclosed to Robert, a friend as well as valet.

Jude and Robert had grown up together as boys on the Clairville estate, and until recently he'd shared with Robert the ups and downs of life, relationships, and frustrations with his mother.

Robert's mother had lived at Clairville, a very distant cousin of Jude's own mother, who'd been widowed when pregnant with Robert. Jude's mother had given her a home. In time, as the boys grew up, it seemed natural for Robert to become Jude's gentleman's gentleman. It was a closer relationship than master and servant.

"Your mother just wants you to be happy. She wants an heir for Clairville." Robert said, defending Jude's mother.

"She has grandchildren so there are already possible heirs for the estate. She needs to leave me to make my own decisions about marriage." Jude responded.

"I remember your father, Jude," Robert replied. "Your parents were closer than is usual for a marriage in the ton. Theirs was a love match. I don't think your mother has ever really recovered since he died in that carriage accident. She wants the same for you. I don't think she will stop her efforts until you are settled and married."

Jude banged his crystal glass on the table in frustration. "I know, Robert, and you are right. I just wish she would take a trip to Scarborough, take the waters at a spa in the north of the country. I'd benefit from a break as much as she would benefit from the bracing sea air."

Robert laughed, "She means well. You know that."

"Well, her latest scheme involves my meeting this Lady Caroline Ridlington. I don't think we've met her before, which is strange, as I usually know most of the young ladies in society. Ah, well. If we make it back to Clairville, I'll smile and simper at Lady Caroline and dance a quadrille or two with her."

"Lady Caroline Ridlington? I don't recognize that name." mused Robert.

"Come to think of it, have you heard of Lady Audrey Rowe?" Jude asked, his eyes still intent on his mother's letter.

"Hmm. Now that name does sound vaguely familiar." Robert thought for a moment then continued. "Yes, I believe her father and yours were acquaintances many years ago. You won't remember, but they visited Clairville. You might have been away at school, come to think of it. I only remember because I got into trouble with Mama for punching Audrey's older brother. He seemed to take pleasure out of teasing his little sister."

"What happened?" asked Jude, moving his attention away from the letter and looking up at Robert.

"From what I remember, we were walking around the lake, and it was muddy. I believe that Nurse Walters was with us, she may remember. The little girl, Audrey, slipped and her brother lunged toward her as if to save her, but the next thing we knew she was in the lake, floundering, unable to swim. She was just a little dot of a girl and Barton, a much younger Barton, dived in to rescue her. While he was doing that, I challenged her brother to a duel."

Jude laughed. "You were always more of a gentleman and a duke than me. You hit him?"

"I did, and he fell in the mud, and I got into terrible trouble! I swear, Jude, that the look of hatred he sent me was out of this world. There was something very wrong with that child. It's funny, I'd forgotten all about Ethan Rowe and his sweet little sister."

"You are a good judge of character, Robert. I don't know Lord Cheshire, although I may have met him, but I have no recollection." He took the decanter and poured them both another cognac. "It now appears possible I've met his sister though. Time will tell."

Jude returned to the letters. Most were from his sisters, and he could read them in the morning, knowing they would just be giving news about the estate and begging him to return home soon.

He picked up the last three business letters. Which one first? He chose the note from Daniel. This was just to inform him that there were still no leads yet from France in tracing Sasha's family, but enquiries were continuing.

The next envelope contained a card written with scented mauve ink which fell onto the table. Picking it up Jude sniffed, recognizing a spiced rose aroma, the card written with so many loops he could hardly decipher the words.

"Well, what a coincidence, it's a note from none other than Lady Caroline Ridlington herself. She assures me that she is looking forward to her visit to Clairville and making my acquaintance. She thanks me for the invitation and tells me that my mother suggested she write, and Lady Caroline hopes that my quarantine wasn't too arduous!"

He held the card up for Robert to see. "I suspect Mama has high hopes of a match with this Lady Caroline Ridlington." He looked around the room and, seeing the candle flames spluttering as they burned toward the wick, Jude realized it was late.

"I think, Robert, it is time to retire." Then, in a voice so quiet that Robert had to lean closer to hear, "What mother doesn't realize is there is a pair of blue eyes that I'm struggling to get out of my mind, however much I try."