Never in her life had Edwina felt the urge to strike someone, yet at that moment she hated Janelle with a force that made her fisted hand quiver with urgency.
The very notion shook her to the core. She wasn’t like the dowager. Just thinking of how she’d felt when her mother-in-law had slapped her caused a wave of shame to wash over Edwina and a nasty tang to coat her tongue.
Inhaling an unsteady breath, Edwina unfurled her fingers. She felt as if she were hurling from one terrible encounter to the next but unable to stop it. Well, someone had to. Edwina was resolved and yet saddened; this parting was long overdue.
Turning toward Ginny, Edwina shook her head. “I know it pains you to see us at odds, but I will not suffer her barbed tongue any longer, even for you.” Facing Janelle once more, Edwina was glad her voice was steady as she declared, “I hereby invoke my right, as president of The Society for the Enrichment and Learning of Females, to eject Lady Janelle Blankett from our membership.”
Janelle reared back, her face aghast. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“You leave me little choice.” Glancing at Ginny and Lucy, Edwina asked, “Do you second the motion?”
Awkward silence encased the small vestibule.
Prescott moved to stand before Edwina, leaned down, and whispered, “Actions taken in anger often make for later regrets. Trust me, I know.”
She looked away. “You don’t understand.”
“All I’m saying is that this is obviously a significant decision and one that should be made after clear reflection, not after you’ve been attacked by that pretentious hag outside.”
“This isn’t the only incident…” Unable to explain, she shook her head.
Turning to face the other women, Prescott declared, “I hate to see Edwina’s mother-in-law’s most ardent wish come true.”
“What wish?” Ginny asked, stepping forward.
Edwina looked up.
Prescott exhaled noisily. “You should have heard the atrocious things she said about your society. She said that you were ‘bombastic, bluestocking, dowdy women whose mediocrity compelled them to create a club from which to foment vulgar behavior.’”
“She didn’t!” Ginny gasped.
Edwina raised her hands over her ears. “Please don’t repeat those horrible things!”
“‘Fools,’ the dowager said,” Prescott went on, “‘with misplaced notions of charity that have them socializing with the lowest dregs of society.’”
Janelle’s face reddened. “She slandered my prison reform program? Has she any idea how many women we’ve helped train for productive positions after they’ve served their time?”
Edwina looked up, whispering, “It was poison aimed at me. Not at any of you…”
“She also said that the founders of the society, and she used that designation in the plural sense, were ‘uncultured, underbred, presumptuous.’”
“Uncultured! Underbred!” Setting her hands to hips, Janelle glowered. “Why, that bacon-faced, hog-buttocked frump!”
Shaking his head, Prescott remarked, “No doubt, Lady Ross would relish any damage to your society. Celebrate any injury she’d be able to inflict to the fundamental principles you ladies have embraced.” He sighed. “Nothing would please her more than to see you at odds. It’s a shame to let her win.”
“We can’t allow it,” Ginny declared. “It would be a tragedy.”
Lucy shook her fist, indicating the need to fight this affront.
Pursing her lips, Janelle murmured, “It would certainly be a betrayal of all we’ve worked for…”
“You know,” Prescott addressed Janelle, “you remind me of one of the women that I admire most in this world.”
Turning to peer over his shoulder at Edwina, Prescott calmly motioned to Janelle. “Doesn’t she remind you of Mrs. Nagel? I know you only met Mrs. Nagel for a moment this morning, but can’t you see the similarities?”
Edwina’s eyes widened. She appreciated his efforts to bring the ladies together and cool the confrontation. But the last thing in the world that would help was to compare Janelle to a school matron. It wouldn’t matter to Janelle that Mrs. Nagel was a woman who cared so much about her former charge that she insisted upon meeting Prescott’s fiancée posthaste, Janelle would still be insulted beyond salvage.
Prescott turned to Janelle once more. “Mrs. Nagel always told me that she felt as if she was the voice of reason crying out in the darkness. But that all of her words of wisdom fell upon deaf ears.”
Janelle’s eyes narrowed. “What are you about, Mr. Devane?”
Certain that Janelle was about to haul poor Prescott over the coals, Edwina placed her hand on his arm. “Uh, Prescott—” But he shot her a look to wait. The confidence shimmering in those emerald eyes stopped her short.
“I know that she found it terribly frustrating that her advice was so easily discarded,” he continued. “When she knew what was best for those she was simply trying to help.”
“Sounds like a creditable woman, this Mrs. Nagel,” Janelle muttered.
Edwina started. Was Janelle actually listening to Prescott instead of ripping him to shreds?
Janelle was looking down at the floor, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “I can certainly understand how the woman might feel.”
“I know she suffered great aggravation with us wretched unfortunates.” Prescott shook his head. “We never truly appreciated her or her attempts to aid us.”
Janelle nodded. “I often feel that my own attempts are similarly unacknowledged.” Her tone lacked its usual potency and instead was interlaced with a hint of grief.
Shocked, Edwina held her breath.
“My children, in particular…” Janelle’s voice trailed off. She shook her head. “I try to speak with them, I write to my daughter, but it’s as if my every word is”—she swallowed—“abhorrent to them. All I want…all I want to do is to be a help to them. To be a part of their lives…”
Immediately the memory came into Edwina’s mind of the first time she’d been introduced to the dowager. Edwina had been so hopeful of embracing her new family, but the stout, sour-faced matron had glowered at Edwina and coolly informed her that she was a source of income, of enhanced connections, nothing more. At first, Edwina had been shocked speechless, unable to comprehend. But she soon learned that the dowager had meant every word. Edwina had tried convincing herself that it was better to know the lay of the land than be under illusions, but the rejection had always hurt. Always.
Edwina’s heart pinched and her anger dissolved faster than vapor from a boiling kettle. Prescott could see what she’d been blind to: Janelle didn’t feel included or needed. Her children had rejected her efforts. Her husband was fairly lost to his horses. And at the Society, her one haven, Edwina had always taken the tack of ignoring her. Janelle was always claiming that Edwina hungered for attention, but maybe she had really been speaking of herself.
Prescott nodded. “Like the other orphaned children at Andersen Hall, I never truly valued Mrs. Nagel until she was lost to me.”
Janelle looked up. “She’s gone?”
“No, thank the heavens. I was speaking of the time when Mrs. Nagel took sick one winter. She had a cough that was so terrible it hurt your chest just to hear it. She took to bed and suddenly we were free from the woman we’d all considered the bane of our existence.”
He shook his head and Edwina could see the cloud of memory in his gaze. “We certainly couldn’t celebrate her illness, but a few of us fools thought that life might improve without Mrs. Nagel to dress us down for our mischief. What we realized, to our surprise, was that Mrs. Nagel was the binding that kept our pitiful lives together. We’d never grasped all that she’d done in a day to keep us safe, fed, clothed, and reasonably upstanding.”
He chuckled, a low, warm sound from deep in his throat. “We almost threw a party on her first day out of bed. Lord, I can’t tell you how I welcomed the next time she smacked me over the head with her straw broom. I was so glad she was there to do it I almost wanted to kiss her.” His lips quirked. “Not quite, but almost.”
Listening to his story, Edwina could almost picture the scamp of a lad he’d been. Adorable, playful and with a mischievous gleam in his emerald eyes.
“Headmaster Dunn always taught us to endeavor to learn from our mistakes.” Prescott set his hand over his heart and bowed toward Janelle. “If you would grant me the privilege, I would very much like to hear your concerns about all that is taking place. I can only hope that it will help to avoid unnecessary complications.”
A silence so profound filled the vestibule that one could almost hear Janelle’s brain grinding through the options.
After a moment, Janelle cleared her throat. “I do believe I may have underestimated Headmaster Dunn’s influence on you, Mr. Devane.” Turning to the butler, she ordered, “We’ll take our tea in the society library.”
Edwina released the breath she’d been holding.
Stepping forward, Prescott offered his arm. “I am at your disposal…”
“Lady Blankett,” Janelle supplied, accepting his arm. Staring up at his handsome face, she added, “I had no idea you were such an astute man, Mr. Devane. Perhaps this plan of Edwina’s is not so foolhardy after all.”
Edwina felt her eyes widen and her jaw drop open.
Prescott nodded. “I try, Lady Blankett. But often I suffer under the ignorance of my upbringing.”
“Nonsense, Mr. Devane,” Janelle chided with a wave of her hand. “Good judgment is innate if the mind is sharp and the vision clear.”
Ginny and Lucy quickly stepped aside and the mismatched pair walked through the doorway leading to the society’s part of the house.
Ginny grabbed Edwina’s arm and pulled her close. “That has to be the most disarming man in the entire kingdom. I had no idea he was so perceptive.”
Edwina shook her head. “Much more so than I, I’m afraid.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Ginny hugged her shoulders. “Janelle’s been pretty terrible to you. It takes the patience of Job to see past that tough armor she wears.”
Which was all the more reason that Edwina had to help save Ginny; the woman was a saint. Edwina couldn’t endure watching her life torn asunder by a blackmailer.
“I need to withdraw that motion to expel Janelle,” Edwina resolved.
“Don’t even bother. Let it all simply be forgotten.”
“You believe it will?”
“Janelle doesn’t wish to fight, any more than you do. You two are just like…a cat and a dog. Natural enemies who’ve yet to figure out a way to live together.” Ginny smiled. “But that doesn’t mean you both don’t mean well.”
“Do I get to be the cat or the dog?”
“Whichever you wish.” Ginny drew Edwina toward the doorway leading to the society’s rooms. “Now let us proceed upstairs. I want to hear what Janelle has to say.”
As she allowed herself to be propelled forward, strangely, Edwina found herself feeling the same way.