Chapter Twenty-Eight

What Price Love?

Wolferton savored the contentment of his Hertfordshire estate with all those he loved. In the kitchen, there were good memories as a young boy with a staff who spoiled a sad child bereft of love and attention. His mother attempted to influence him, but with the old duke in residence, affection did not find its way to his youthful heart.

When his father went on his many trips, much to the joy of family and staff, a different atmosphere permeated the country house. Upon his father’s return, terror reigned supreme.

But today, it was so welcome after years and years of absence with only a few brief visits. It amazed him some things didn’t change. A thought crossed his mind. What a pity to live a life with nobody to cherish and mourn your death, and his father deserved nothing else. The old clichés haunted, but you reaped what you sowed—an old but appropriate proverb. He went back into the kitchen to speak with the cook.

“Cook Bessie, I’ve asked Halbert to arrange a picnic lunch outside tomorrow, if the weather permits, for all the servants and groomsmen. I crave something roasted on the giant spit. Can you arrange this repast? Any leftovers will go to the men for their families. I am in more than a generous mood to be among those”—he looked away and held his glazed stare in check—“I cherish.”

He accepted the responsibility and found, here and now, the burden did not seem too great. It was true everyone relied on him for the simple process of life—day to day—but the nights were the worst. Dreams turned into nightmares and smothered his peace.

Now, he not only had Camille but Jaclyn to restore him. For one night, I’d like to be master of all I survey. I know I now have a good heart, but it is not a happy one.

Wolferton turned away from the kitchen staff before he made a fool of himself and allowed a tear to escape. He wanted moments—new ones, to replace the horrors of his life.

Back in his study, he worked on the ledger accounts and marked those items he wished to question with his overseer. Expenses seemed high against income. The dog, Kort rested alongside him in a gentle growl, and Wolferton laughed at the sounds of the contented animal. Did he snore? He’d have to ask Halbert. Except for wartime when they shared tents, he always slept alone.

Restless, he sought Camille. “I’ve had an idea. Why don’t we invite Josette and her father to visit with us here over the weekend? It’s short notice, but I’m sure it would thrill Jaclyn to spend time with someone more her age. What do you think?”

“Brother, you do have a way with words. Am I to feel an ancient, wizened, older female?”

He sensed pain behind her words and wanted to kick himself in the arse for the hurt inflicted.

“Radolf, stop your worry and enjoy yourself for a change. I will arrange for the invitation. It will be a surprise. Jaclyn is a changed and happy girl.”

“She’s a female of eighteen years. Are we sure about this social season as a necessary event? It’s caused her concern. Anything arranged can be unarranged for a pound or two.” Wolferton arched an eyebrow, and he worried his lower lip.

Camille placed her embroidery in the basket, removed her glasses, and motioned for her brother to sit. “I think this week or two here will result in a monumental change in her outlook. How kind of you to invite her friend and father. It will make her feel at home in what she sometimes calls this strange land. She will see the beauty of the country juxtaposed against the soot-ridden city. You and I have assumed we know what’s best for her. Let’s see what influence her school friend has on her outlook.” She touched his hand. “And you, Sir Galahad, may be able to use your considerable charm on both girls to find out what Jaclyn desires. I think I already know, but perhaps you must be convinced. Do you have the Dupree’s address?”

He nodded. “Come to my study. Halifax’s influence will diminish. I will concentrate on Jaclyn’s happiness. However, I’ve promised the ultimate suitor choice is hers, but I will make every attempt so that her choice isn’t Halifax. She’s ill-prepared to deal with such a two-faced scorpion. Whatever happens to me is in heaven’s hand, but Halifax will never lay a hand on her in marriage—or otherwise.”

Camille followed him into the study. “What a profound idea to celebrate our new start with a family dance. You’re clever, devious, and a good man. I’ll run upstairs now and prepare for frivolity. You think Jaclyn will like your surprise?”

“I hope so. We’ll find out soon, won’t we? Now, hurry and don’t be late. Come to think of it, I’ll follow you since I have to change. I wonder if the uniform still fits.”

****

In her room, Jaclyn opened the brown paper package and removed a dress. She held it against her and glanced in the mirror. The color was her favorite, but the cut different from anything she owned. Its elegance amazed her. She preened from side to side and then recognized it as the dress ruined in her flight to find Camille and the duke. The torn part was now a pleat of black beaded roses strung as if on a vine in continuous symmetry. The buttons on the top of the gown were the same and slipped in the button loops, but the bodice and neckline were different. The shoulders and high neck were there, but below the collar was an open heart shape.

She lay the gown on a chair and removed her outer clothes. A tap on the door sounded. “Come.” Camille entered. “You knew about the surprise and didn’t tell me?” she asked in a jovial tone. “I’ve not seen anything like it. Have you?”

Camille helped her step into the new garment. “Radolf designed it himself with the modiste. He was upset the gown you preferred was damaged. Unfortunately, the ruined fabric was no longer available, so he envisioned the idea of the sweetheart neckline.” She handed Jaclyn the ribbon for around her waist.

“Are you pleased? He went through a great deal to try to replicate the frock because he knew how much it meant to you.”

“Yes, Camille, it is more sophisticated than my simple dress. Do you think it makes me look like a woman instead of a girl?” She placed her hand to her lips conscious of her now warm cheeks.

“Yes, it does. The way the black lace roses stream down the skirt is an attention to detail. Do you realize the message he sends you?”

”Message? What message could there be?”

“You’re not that naïve. He could have had the modiste stitch grosgrain ribbon. Instead, my brother chose his signature black lace roses. Do you have any idea how much more hand work is required? It’s a good sign. Please, even if you don’t like it, be kind. Your approval is what he seeks.”

Jaclyn went to Camille and embraced her. “Yes, it does mean something. I’m not sure of the message, and I don’t want to overstep my bounds, but I do love it and will not only say so but show him how much I do.” She giggled at the thought to give him a special kiss.

Now she pranced about the room like a prized Lipizzaner horse at an exhibition. “Imagine. He did this for me.” Her mood contagious, Jaclyn dragged Camille along in a circular dance around a photo-laden table. “For me!”

“Yes, only for you. I’ll leave you now and see what I have to wear, but nothing will compare. Shall we descend together or will we meet in the dining room?” Then she frowned. “Oh, yes, I forgot about the major. Best to meet in the drawing room. What was his name—Major Anderson? Hmm. I think my brother is up to mischief.”

Her smile brought a larger one to Jaclyn’s face. “I saw the major. He’s quite handsome. All you have to do is relax and have a lovely time with him. Wolferton’s gone to great length for us. We should go to greater lengths for him. Agreed?”

“Yes, most agreeable.”

Jaclyn noted the happy hum as Camille left the room. Immediately she went to her desk and unlocked the drawer to write in her journal.

Sweet heaven, I don’t know where to start. Radolf created a design just for me of my ruined dress. Just for me. The bodice is an open sweetheart design. It also shows my figure. Not as modest as my other frocks. Just for me, dear diary. I can’t wait to see his face when I wear it tonight.

No desire to summon her maid, she swept her hair back into an upward motion before the mirror, pinned it in place, and then left to savor the aura of freedom.

Jaclyn didn’t have any jewelry to speak of, but she did have the jeweled gold cross her father had given her. She placed it under the collar so the cross was centermost in the sweetheart cutout. “Protected by heaven,” she whispered. “Oh, my, it will be of interest, and I’m excited to dance with the man of my dreams and have him all to myself. Sweet heaven, what a glorious evening lay ahead. Paramount to her thoughts was how she would arrange for him to kiss her and believe it of his desire.”