TWENTY-SIX

SIR FRANCIS CAME EARLY THE next morning. He was as timid and hesitant as Joseph had described, but his anguish for his mother was very clear. He excused his tardy arrival, explaining that he’d been absent from home for three days, staying with friends, but after half an hour of hand-wringing and weeping he accepted Jayne’s suggestion that he would be better employed sitting with the Duke of Granville.

Jayne escorted him to the parlour and made the introductions, and if Sir Francis found it odd that the duke wouldn’t look at her, he didn’t show it. She’d been unable to tease a word out of His Grace since their falling-out of the previous evening. Mercifully, Peter was more than willing to assume the role of valet, and Granville was well presented and comfortably seated in the parlour by the time Sir Francis appeared. Jayne took her leave of them with a curtsey, saying she would have refreshments sent, then closed the door behind her with a thankful sigh. She was accustomed to Sir Henry’s boisterous demands for kisses of reconciliation after a disagreement, and found the strained, uncomfortable silence His Grace preferred wearisome.

When she returned to the chamber, she found Molly in tears at Alice’s bedside over the added strain of having another guest in the house. Cook had told her she needed money for supplies, but the coin chest hadn’t been replenished since Milady’s seizure. What was she to do? Milady deserved better than to have her final hours disturbed by selfish men. Jayne begged her not to worry. She still had two crowns in her satchel which Cook could use.

Nevertheless, she was close to weeping herself. She hadn’t slept for more than a couple of hours these last three nights and fatigue made her grief and anxiety worse. What would become of Alice’s household after she died? Would Sir Francis take responsibility for them if Winterborne Stickland was already fully staffed? And what of the duke and Mister Adams? Who would take responsibility for them?

Towards noon, she moved to a desk in the corner of Alice’s chamber and began penning a letter to her father.

My dearest Papa, I am desperately in need of your help …

The door opened so quietly that Jayne was unaware anyone had entered the room until Molly rose abruptly from her stool, causing it to tumble to the floor behind her. ‘Oh, praise God, praise God!’ she sobbed, holding out her hands. ‘You’ve come!’

Startled, Jayne looked up from her writing and felt ready to sob herself. There surely was no more comforting presence than William, never mind that he was filthy with dust from the road and reeking of horse sweat. She rose to join her hands with his and Molly’s. ‘I feared my letter wouldn’t reach you.’

‘It found me yesterday outside Nottingham.’ He glanced towards the bed. ‘Am I too late?’

‘No. Molly and I believe she’s been waiting for you. We’ll leave so that you may have time with her alone.’

He released their hands. ‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘You’re her closest friends and your presence is as necessary to her as mine.’ He knelt beside the bed and pressed a kiss to Alice’s forehead. ‘It’s William, milady. I’ve ridden through the night to see you.’

He cradled his palm against her cheek and a flutter began in her eyelids.

‘No boy had a kinder mother, no youth a better teacher, no man a more loyal protector. If love could be painted, it would bear your face, milady. I owe you more than I can say.’

Jayne couldn’t tell how long Alice’s eyes remained open or whether they truly moved from William to her to Molly, but there was no doubting the soft sigh of contentment that escaped her mouth or the sweet smile that settled on her lips. Jayne would have thought her still alive had not William, who had seen so many deaths, closed her lids with gentle fingers and bent his head in respect for a soul departed.

Molly wanted to fasten the shutters to signal a passing in the house, but William asked her to leave them open. ‘Alice loved light, and Francis should be able to see her when he makes his farewells.’

Jayne, who had knelt to make her own farewells to this remarkable woman, rose to stand beside him, pressing her thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose to hold back her tears. ‘He’s in the parlour,’ she said.

William placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. ‘I know. I entered through the kitchen and discovered Cook in a bother over the number of guests in the house.’

Molly took up a brush and drew it gently through Alice’s grey hair. ‘Sir Francis came this morning,’ she said through her own tears, ‘but the others came yesterday. They’re eating us out of house and home.’

‘Would one of them be a strange little man in a nightgown who tells me he’s valet to His Grace the Duke of Granville and insists on rummaging through Cook’s cupboards?’

‘I’m afraid so,’ said Jayne. ‘His master is with Francis.’ She described the events of the previous day, finishing with the duke’s pained silence after she reprimanded him. ‘He hasn’t wanted to speak with me since, but I can’t in good conscience abandon him and Mister Adams. They’re both terribly undernourished and quite unfit to make the journey back to Berkshire.’

William glanced towards the desk and the letter she’d been writing. ‘What were you planning to do with them?’

‘Beg Papa and Mama to take them in,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Granville will be rude to them but I couldn’t think of anything else to do.’

He folded her hands in his. ‘Your parents have no obligation to do anything for him and neither do you. I’ll ask Francis to offer him rooms at Winterborne Stickland.’

‘He’s been shockingly neglected, William. He needs more care than an unwed man can give him.’

‘Francis’s household will look after him well enough.’ He waited while Molly brought colour to Alice’s cheeks with a dusting of rouge. ‘Will you be kind enough to fetch Sir Francis, Molly? We shouldn’t keep him from his mother longer than is necessary.’

Molly dabbed at her eyes with the hem of her apron. ‘The household would like to take their leave of her, too, William. May I send them up when Sir Francis has finished?’

‘Of course,’ he said, opening the door for her. He waited for Molly to descend the stairs before speaking with Jayne again. ‘I have no desire to meet the duke, so will leave as soon as I’ve secured Francis’s promise to accommodate him. Once they’ve departed, send word to me at my house in Durngate Street and I will return. Are you comfortable with that?’

She shook her head.

‘Don’t make this difficult for me, Jayne,’ he said harshly. ‘I owe him nothing. Whatever troubles he has, he has brought on himself.’

‘I don’t dispute that,’ she answered, ‘but you asked if I was comfortable with your decision, and I am not. For myself, I would take the opportunity to satisfy my curiosity.’

She made her way to the kitchen rather than stay with William and Francis, only to be caught at the door by Peter, who begged her to attend upon His Grace.

‘Mister Adams has told him his grandson is here, ma’am, and he’s most keen to see him. You will know better than I how to effect such a meeting.’

Stifling yet more sighs, Jayne followed him to the parlour where Mister Adams, still dressed in his nightshirt, was searching the drawers in Alice’s bureau. She moved to his side and took a gentle hold of his wrists. ‘It’s not seemly to go through the possessions of one who has passed, sir … nor to remain in sleep attire in a house of death. You know this, for you have been His Grace’s faithful valet for a long time now.’ She drew him towards Peter. ‘Allow Peter to assist you into something more befitting a sad occasion.’ She waited until they were in the hall, then curtseyed to the duke. ‘You wished to see me, my lord?’

‘You have more patience than my daughter. Maria would have slapped his face and screamed at him.’

‘And does that cure him of his confusion?’

He shook his head. ‘He’s so terrified of her he crouches in a corner whenever she enters the room, and begs me daily to remove him from her house.’ He nodded to a chair in front of him. ‘Sit down, Mistress Swift, and allow me to express my condolences. You must be deeply grieved by Lady Stickland’s passing.’

She lowered herself to the seat and answered honestly. ‘Not as grieved as I would have been had she suffered a lingering death, my lord. She was taken by shaking palsy twelve months ago and was deeply afeared she would be confined to bed, unable to speak or feed herself. To suffer a seizure and die peacefully in her sleep is the kinder end, I think.’

‘Was my grandson with her?’

Jayne nodded.

‘Is he still there?’

She nodded again.

‘Will you bring him to me?’

Jayne chose a tactful response. ‘Do you think it wise to request a meeting now, my lord? Alice was his mother in all but name from the day of his birth, and her death is as painful to him as it is to Sir Francis. He needs time to mourn before you demand acknowledgement for yourself.’

His Grace took a kerchief from his sleeve and held it to his eyes. ‘You think me mean-spirited and selfish, and rightly so. I behaved badly towards you last night and can only excuse my rudeness on finding you to be more honest than I expected. A dishonest woman would have said what I wanted to hear, but you did not. Will you forgive me, my dear?’

Jayne’s sympathies were not so lacking in scepticism that she couldn’t see when she was being used. ‘I forgive you readily, my lord, but I doubt my father will. Sir Henry went to great trouble to have Sir Edward Hamway imprisoned for violent assault and attempted theft, and it will not amuse him to hear that so immoral a man is now telling lies about him.’

Surprised, Granville crumpled the kerchief inside his fist. ‘Is that true?’

A shadow moved across the doorway before Jayne could reply. ‘You really shouldn’t doubt my future wife, sire,’ said William, showing himself. ‘Even George Goring, the most disreputable general in the King’s army, tired of Hamway’s deceits eventually and sent him home in disgrace.’ He stepped into the room and bent his neck. ‘Your servant, my lord. I am Colonel William Harrier.’

The duke’s shock was greater than it should have been, since he knew already that William was in the house. He gazed at him wide-eyed, sucking at air, and Jayne became concerned that his breaths were too shallow and fast. Anxiety was the most likely cause, but she worried that his heart wasn’t strong enough for so much emotion. She moved to his side. ‘Sit tall and try to take longer and slower breaths, sire,’ she said, taking his hand in hers. ‘It will help if you breathe in through your nose and exhale through your mouth. We will do it together. Inhale when I squeeze your fingers and release when I let go.’

He calmed enough after a minute or two to raise his gaze again to William’s face. ‘You have the likeness of my father,’ he said. ‘He died when I was twenty and I have the clearest memory of him.’ A tremor began in his lips. ‘I have been most remiss in my duty to you, William. Will you forgive me?’

‘There’s nothing to forgive, sire. I’ve learnt more by making my own way in life than I could ever have done if I’d been forced to accept the constraints of being your grandson.’

The old man released Jayne’s hand and pressed the kerchief to his eyes again. ‘Are you aware that I petitioned the King to allow the dukedom to pass through my daughter to my other grandson?’

‘I am, and have always wished you success in the matter.’

‘Most men would be angered to have a rightful title removed.’

‘Only those who feel the need for them.’

‘Your cousin and his mother want nothing else.’ The duke stared at William over the hovering kerchief. ‘But you have more the bearing of a Granville than your cousin. My daughter encourages him in arrogance and laziness, and his single contribution to the King’s cause was to surrender my estate in Somerset without a shot being fired. He spent the rest of the war in Oxford, doing nothing, and is now betrothed to a simpering miss who is even more shallow-minded than he is.’

William shrugged. ‘What can I say except that he sounds eminently suitable to be your heir, sire?’

Jayne watched blotches of distress rise up the old man’s neck and into his cheeks, and guessed it would be seconds only before he began struggling for breath again. ‘Anxiety isn’t good for you, my lord, so I beg you to find a less troubling subject to discuss.’ She stooped to smile at him. ‘I recommend humour. You showed such a fine sense of fun yesterday at the inn that May quite fell in love with you, and since William is similar—for he’s a great tease also—I warrant you’ll discover more about each other through laughter than confrontation.’

He raised a gnarled finger to stroke her cheek. ‘Does he deserve you, my dear?’

Jayne’s eyes filled with amusement at this second blatant attempt to use her. ‘It’s not my place to say, sire. You must find that out for yourself.’

Word of Alice’s death spread quickly, and visitors came to the front door to pay their respects. Sir Francis, alarmed at having to receive Puritans, begged Jayne to stand with him, and she did so gladly in order to give William time alone with his grandfather. Nevertheless, it was an hour and a half before the queue came to an end, and she worried that was overly long for two men who held opposite views on everything.

Resigned to finding Granville hurt and William gone when she and Sir Francis entered the parlour, she smiled in relief to see them sitting side by side with their legs stretched in front of them. Together, with their heads canted at the same angle, they laughed to hear her say she was glad to be done with Puritan pleasantries, and she wondered if they were aware of the similarities between them.

‘It’s a dour religion indeed,’ said William, rising to his feet and offering her the chair.

His Grace chuckled. ‘So dour that William tells me Lady Alice hid Shakespeare’s plays inside her Bible as a means of making the interminable hours of prayer more endurable.’

Sir Francis moved to the mantelpiece and thrust the toe of his boot morosely against the raised edge of the hearth. ‘They’re expecting her to be buried in one of the Dorchester graveyards. An elder told me he’s already chosen the Bible readings, and I guarantee we’ll listen to more warnings of God’s judgement than promises of a better life in the hereafter. Is that what she wanted?’

‘No,’ Jayne assured him, refusing the chair in preference to standing. ‘When she knew her time was limited by shaking palsy, she told me that her heart never left the Church of England. Her wish was that you take her home to Winterborne Stickland and bury her next to your father in your own graveyard with an Anglican priest saying Anglican prayers. Will you do that for her, sir? You’ll find the instruction in the top drawer of her bureau.’

His demeanour brightened immediately. ‘Most readily,’ he said. ‘I feared I would have to leave her here.’

Jayne shook her head. ‘She was too fond of laughing to believe she’d rest easily amongst people of a more solemn frame of mind. She said Puritans were only happy when they were resisting the pull of Satan.’ She paused for a moment, wondering if William would agree with the lie she was about to tell. ‘She made one other request of me, Sir Francis, though she didn’t memorialise it in writing. She asked that William and I offer each of her servants employment at Winterborne Houghton. As her heir, the choice of hiring them should be yours, but since William and I are well acquainted with all of them, Alice thought they would be more comfortable working for us. Does that meet with your approval?’

His relief was obvious. ‘Certainly. I have maids enough, and William has none. If he’s willing to take them on, I can be shed of responsibility for them. Are you in agreement, William?’

William was smiling indulgently at Jayne, clearly aware that she’d invented the request. ‘By all means, for the same idea had occurred to me, though I question whether Alice considered the poor state of the servants’ quarters at Winterborne Houghton before she made the plea.’

Jayne had an answer ready. ‘She didn’t expect to die so soon. She spoke many times of her hopes of attending our wedding and seeing the house restored.’ She turned to Sir Francis again. ‘You’ll do us a great kindness if you allow the maids to remain here until after our marriage in the autumn, sir. I will ensure they maintain the property in good order and have money to feed themselves.’

William answered before Sir Francis could. ‘That won’t be necessary, Jayne. I spoke to them while you and Francis were outside, and they’ve agreed to take up residence in Winterborne Houghton after Alice’s funeral.’ He reached for her hands. ‘His Grace would like to accept your invitation to visit Swyre for a few days, so I plan to ride with you both and ask Sir Henry to advance the date of our wedding.’ He lifted her fingers to his lips. ‘Three weeks must pass for the banns to be read, but there’s no prettier time to be married than the first week of June.’

It was another two hours before Jayne was able to talk with him in private, and by then her nerves were in shreds at the speed with which events were moving. With William’s assistance, Sir Francis had secured the services of a funeral undertaker who was able to supply a coffin and an open-topped wagon to transport Alice’s body and her servants to Winterborne Stickland, where they would stay until after Alice’s interment. And when the time came for the wagon to leave, the driver had little trouble negotiating a path through the much-thinned crowds of the previous days. The church bells had fallen silent at midnight and the people of Dorchester had taken this as a signal to return to sobriety and work, for even peace, it seemed, could not be celebrated indefinitely.

Only Granville and Mister Adams remained in Alice’s house, and Peter was waiting with His Grace’s coach some thirty yards up the street to allow Alice’s wagon to pass. William beckoned him forward. ‘You remember your instructions?’ he called, drawing Jayne clear as the horses pulled alongside.

‘Yes, sir. We’re to follow the Bridport highway and wait at the King’s Head tavern until you join us.’

William took Jayne’s arm and turned her towards him. ‘I’m conscious that one of us needs to ride ahead to alert your parents to unexpected guests, and, since my horse is stabled here in Dorchester, it would make more sense for me to do it. Are you agreeable to that?’

She regarded him with disfavour. ‘Do you expect me to be?’

‘No,’ he said with a smothered laugh, ‘which is why I instructed the coachman to wait for me at the King’s Head. I guessed you’d be bent on riding astride once you retrieved your mare rather than travelling demurely in the carriage.’

‘Not as bent as I am on having a conversation with you before we reach Swyre, William. Do you have any idea how Mama will react to being told she has to plan a wedding feast in three weeks when you assured her less than a month ago that it couldn’t happen before the autumn?’

‘I thought she’d be more put out by having the duke and Mister Adams imposed upon her.’

Jayne shook her head. ‘We’ll be lucky to escape with our lives when she learns that all her careful planning for the autumn has been wasted. Whatever possessed you to come up with such an idea?’

This time his laugh was loud enough to be heard by others. ‘I thought it inspired,’ he said. ‘I can’t think of anything more enticing than marrying you in three weeks’ time. I’d do it today if the law allowed us.’

Jayne saw a matron frown at them. ‘You should be mourning Alice, not making light of our wedding,’ she admonished. ‘And I suggest you find a less flippant answer for Mama or she’ll assume our urgency to wed is because I’m carrying your child.’

William sobered abruptly. ‘That wouldn’t do at all,’ he agreed. ‘Your father would horsewhip me from the house. Will the truth satisfy Lady Margaret?’

‘It depends what it is.’

‘Your penchant for involving me in your charitable enterprises, Jayne. I don’t say I share all your sympathies—Samuel Morecott being one—but I’m willing to accommodate them if it makes you happy.’ Humour returned to his eyes. ‘Making you mistress of Winterborne Houghton, and allowing you to give houseroom to whomever you please, seemed the perfect solution to my sudden—and deeply unexpected—acquisition of a grandfather in need of care. By rights, Lady Margaret should pity me rather than chastise me, since Andrew tells me you plagued her with stray dogs throughout your childhood.’

A smile twitched at the corner of Jayne’s mouth. ‘She’ll pity me more,’ she warned. ‘Alice told her at Christmas that half the windows at Winterborne Houghton were broken and the inside was dripping with damp. Molly and the maids might be able to endure such conditions, but your grandfather won’t. He’ll die sooner there than at the hands of your aunt in Berkshire.’

‘Are you suggesting we return him to her?’

She sighed. ‘What alternative is there? He can’t stay at Swyre until Winterborne Houghton is ready. It wouldn’t be fair on Mama.’

William gave his ear a thoughtful scratch. ‘It won’t do, I’m afraid. I’ve already given him my pledge not to send him and Mister Adams back to Berkshire. Your wretched insistence on pointing out his frailty plucked at my conscience.’

Jayne stared at him in exasperation. ‘You can’t make Mama responsible for that. If you’ve had a sudden attack of guilt, you must provide a solution yourself.’

‘I thought I had,’ said William plaintively. ‘You’ve captured His Grace’s heart, Jayne, and he’s set on living with you at Winterborne Houghton. As indeed is Mister Adams, who mistakes you for an angel.’ He laughed and trapped her hand between both of his before she could rap his knuckles. ‘I’ll not tease any more,’ he promised, ‘though I find your lack of faith in me a little hurtful. The house is two-thirds towards completion. I’ve had a dozen men working there for five months under Francis’s supervision, and he tells me the roof and windows are now secure, with every broken tile and pane replaced. The damp is cured, the reception rooms and bedchambers on the first floor have been completed, and two anterooms to the kitchen have been set aside as a hospital. In addition, Molly assures me that she and the other maids will care for His Grace and Mister Adams until you can join them in three weeks’ time. Will that do?’

She entwined her fingers with his, wondering that amongst all his other concerns, he’d remembered his promise to make her a hospital. ‘You haven’t mentioned furniture.’

‘Francis has instructed carriers to remove everything from Alice’s house tomorrow and transport it to Winterborne Houghton, which means there will be beds, tables and chairs for most of the rooms. He wants us to think of it as her wedding present to us.’ He touched a finger to her lips. ‘I trust it will suffice for the moment.’

Her eyes softened as she kissed his palm. ‘You truly are the most irritating man,’ she said.