Jack of Hearts Page 5

  “I think I knew that, my dear,” Sarah reassured Anne. “But your life will be very different once you marry. Your time and attention will be given to your husband and then your children. And it is not likely that a new husband will want to share his wife’s time with anyone else.”

  “If I’m paying the bills, he will have nowt to say.”

  “Oh, Anne, that is exactly what I am worried about, and why it is better if I go. Especially given the circumstances of your marriage, you’ll need time to forge a relationship. And if you want a happy marriage, you will need to learn how to compromise.”

  “Mine will be a marriage of convenience, and while I hope that some affection may develop between my husband and me, I will still need a friend near me.”

  Anne’s plea was sincere, Sarah knew. Obviously Anne assumed her life would change only a little when she found herself a husband. And it was for that very reason that Sarah knew she must find a new position, although she dreaded the thought of starting all over with strangers. She could not be a crutch for Anne to lean on. Perhaps Anne would not fall in love with her husband. But at the very least there could be friendship and affection—and how could these develop if Anne leaned on her rather than on her spouse. But she was not going to convince Anne of this now. So she only said, “It is good to feel needed,” with a catch in her voice.

  “Whom else could I count on but you—or trust with my children? You will forget this foolishness now, won’t you?”

  “At least until I see whom you have chosen,” Sarah conceded.

  “If I had to choose tonight, it would be Lord Windham.”

  “I saw you dancing with him, and also with Lord Aldborough.”

  “Yes, and I found Lord Windham the far more comfortable partner,” said Anne with tart humor.

  “Life is not a dance…”

  “No, but Lord Windham was also a delightful companion at supper. We had a comfortable conversation, and he is taking me out for a drive tomorrow to get to know me better. Of course, any man in his circumstances would be bound to say that, but he really did sound genuine.”

  “From all I have heard, he is. And what of Lord Aldborough?”

  “He’s far too practiced with women. I couldn’t trust him.”

  “And your other candidate? Baron Leighton?”

  “He was not there, or at least I did not encounter him. And I will keep my mind open until I have come to know all three.”

  * * * *

  Anne had a delightful drive with Lord Windham the next day. They arrived in the park a little early to avoid the late-afternoon crowds, but there were enough people to cause them to stop often and bow to one or another of Lord Windham’s acquaintances. Anne was happy to see that he was not at all hesitant to introduce her, and when they stopped to chat with a few of his close friends, she found them engaging. When he dropped her off, he expressed the hope that she would allow him the pleasure again sometime soon.

  Anne had to remind herself that she had not yet met Baron Leighton and although her first impressions of Lord Windham were certainly favorable, she did not really know him well enough to rush to a decision.

  Chapter Four

  It was at the Lovett musicale that Anne finally encountered the baron. She found herself seated next to a very solid-looking gentleman with a broad forehead made broader by a receding hairline. He gave her a nod as she slipped into her seat just as the musicians struck up the accompaniment for the evening’s entertainment, a popular coloratura soprano. Anne was fond of good singing, but had always preferred the contralto voice, perhaps because hers was closer to that range. There was nothing that irritated her more than a singer who chose pieces to show off her ability to trill, and when the audience rose to give Madame Bernini a standing ovation for what Anne thought of as interminable warbling, she was taken by surprise. She stood up so suddenly that her program and reticule fell to the floor. She automatically bent to retrieve them, and her head came into sudden contact with her neighbor’s as he reached to help her.

  Th’art clearly not a lady, Anne Heriot, she told herself. A lady does nowt but wait for a gentleman to help her! She slipped back into her seat and then realized that the audience was still clapping. She stood again, managing to hold on to her reticule but dropping her program again. This time, however, she only smiled gratefully as the gentleman retrieved it for her.

  Finally people took their seats and she turned to thank her neighbor. “You must think me a great gawk,” she said with a quick smile. “Thank you for rescuing me twice.”

  “Not at all, ma’am. If I am not mistaken, we share a dislike of musical pyrotechnics,” he added, a mischievous glint in his eye.

  “Oh, dear, was I that obvious? I assure you that I do appreciate a good soprano voice, but not when it is used only to impress and not express the music.”

  “I am in absolute agreement, ma’am.”

  “I will disgrace myself further, sir, and introduce myself. I am new in London and have not met you yet. I am Anne Heriot. A ‘miss,’ not a ‘ma’am,’ ” she added with a smile.

  “I am very pleased to meet you, Miss Heriot. I am Lord Steven Leighton.”

  Anne’s eyebrows lifted in her surprise.

  “You have heard of me?”

  “Um, I may have heard your name in passing, my lord,” Anne stammered.

  “Well, I have heard of you, Miss Heriot.”

  “Oh, and what have you heard, Lord Leighton?” asked Anne, a slightly defensive tone in her voice.

  “Nothing but good, I assure you. That you are an attractive and charming young woman. And I can see for myself that the gossips were right.”

  Anne could only smile a response, for the soprano was going to sing an encore. The baron shrugged his shoulders expressively and whispered, “I believe we are in for another round, Miss Heriot!”

  Anne was too caught up in thinking about the man next to her to pay much attention to Madame Bernini. So this was the baron. He was different from what she had expected. She had pictured him as taller—though where that expectation had come from, she wasn’t sure. She had also expected him to be more serious. Surely a widower with a daughter should be more serious. Instead, the baron had a fine sense of humor and a down-to-earth manner. Then it came to her—as soon as she had heard he was a widower with a daughter, she had begun to imagine a younger version of her father, and Baron Leighton was nothing at all like Robert Heriot.

  After the concert, the audience retired to the drawing room. Anne had just joined Sarah and a small cluster of acquaintances when Lady Lovett came over with Lord Leighton to them.

  “The baron has asked me to formally introduce him. Miss Heriot, Lord Steven Leighton.”

  Anne offered her hand, and he gave it a light but firm squeeze.

  “I am pleased to meet you, Miss Heriot. Did you enjoy the concert?” he asked. To anyone else, it would have sounded like a common polite inquiry, but Anne saw the teasing look in his eyes.

  “I did, my lord. Madame Bernini is quite the virtuoso.”

  “Indeed. May I bring you both some refreshment?” he asked. “And perhaps have the pleasure of sitting with you?”

  “You are most kind, my lord,” said Sarah as Anne nodded her assent.

  When he was out of earshot, Sarah turned to Anne. “So, now you have met them all!”

  “Yes, and it was quite coincidental that he was sitting next to me. Come, let us find some seats.”

  They had just settled themselves when the baron returned with two plates. “I’ll be back as soon as I fill one for myself,” he promised. He had just hurried off when Aldborough appeared. “Is that seat vacant, Miss Heriot?” he asked.

  Anne gave him her sweetest smile. “Oh, I am sorry, Lord Aldborough, but Lord Leighton will be back in a minute.” Anne gestured toward two young ladies who were watching him. “But I am sure that Lady Charlotte or Miss Sinclair would be happy to have you as a supper companion,” she added.

  “Thank you for pointing tha
t out to me, Miss Heriot,” Aldborough said blandly. He bowed and then sauntered over to Miss Sinclair, who blushed becomingly as he took the seat next to her.

  Just as the baron returned, there was a clattering as people set their plates down and began to applaud all over again at Madame Bernini’s entrance.

  “I am not getting up this time,” Anne declared, looking over at the baron with a defiant grin. “It is one thing to rescue a lady’s program and quite another to pick up her supper!”

  Many of the other ladies found themselves in the same predicament and also stayed seated as the singer took another bow.

  “My, she seems quite impressed with her own talent, doesn’t she?” said Sarah.

  “I see your companion is as sensible as you are, Miss Heriot. But I assure you that usually Lady Lovett’s performers are not as egocentric. Do you like Mozart, Miss Heriot?”

  “I have only heard what Sarah plays on the fortepiano. And a few orchestral pieces performed at local assemblies.”

  “May I invite you to be my guests at the opera, then? The Magic Flute is there next week, and although there are coloratura pieces, I assure you they do not detract from the experience!”

  “Sarah and I would enjoy that very much,” Anne replied, pleased that her plans were shaping up so well.

  * * * *

  For the next few weeks, Jack felt he was back in Spain, pursuing an elusive quarry through the mountains. Except that this time it was not a French dispatch officer that he was after but one very elusive woman from Yorkshire. The treacherous terrain was the drawing rooms and ballrooms of the ton, where he had to escape the tactics of several young ladies who, despite their parents’ disapproval, were clearly set on capturing the “Jack” for themselves.

  “Every time I see her,” he complained to Val one afternoon as they walked down St. James Street, “she is with either Leighton or Windham. I may capture her for the odd dance, and then she tells me in that delightfully down-to-earth Yorkshire accent of hers that Miss Sinclair and Lady Charlotte are giving her hostile glances. She is quite determined to see me as nothing but a rake.”

  “Surely not that!” said Val with mock horror.

  “Oh, it is all right for you to be amused, Valentine. You haven’t a widowed aunt and two cousins to support!” Jack’s words were light, but Val could hear the real concern underneath.

  “Are you determined on Anne Heriot, then? Are there not other rich young women in search of a title?”

  “There is Miss Crane, the ironmonger’s daughter.”

  Val grimaced. “I see what you mean. No, she would never do for you. Too young and too mouse-like. Her father completely rules her. What about some young lady of the ton whose father wishes her to marry up?”

  “There may be a few available, but believe me, between the extent of my debts, my reputation, and my Spanish grandmother, no father would give me a second thought. Not when there are men like Richard Farrar around.”

  “And he seems very intent on Anne.”

  “Indeed.”

  “What do you think of her, aside from her money, Jack?”

  “I find her conversation blunt, if not bordering on the sarcastic, and she is irritatingly impervious to my so-called invincible charms! I am also convinced that she has made it a point to avoid me. That being said… I like her very much!”

  Val laughed. “Elspeth was sure you’d deal very well together.”

  “Was?”

  “Well, both the baron and Windham have their strong points. The baron has a sense of humor to recommend him, and Windham is an open-hearted young man who has made a good impression on all three women.”

  “All three?”

  “Sarah Wheeler, Anne’s companion.”

  “Ah, yes, Miss Wheeler. I wonder what her plans are when Miss Heriot marries.”

  “Anne has assured her that she will always be a welcome part of her household. I don’t know what the others will make of that. What about you, Jack?”

  “What right would I have to complain? After all, I would be foisting three women on Miss Heriot myself. And I like Miss Wheeler very much, from what I see of her.”

  The two men walked along for a while, then Val broke the silence. “I shouldn’t be doing this, and I don’t know if Elspeth would approve of my meddling, Jack, but it seems to me that you should at least have an even chance. My wife and Miss Heriot ride together one or two mornings a week.”

  Jack looked over at his friend inquiringly.

  “I happen to know that Elspeth has to cancel tomorrow. Miss Heriot will be alone except for her groom.”

  Jack clapped his friend on the shoulder. “I will be forever grateful, Val.”

  * * * *

  Later that afternoon, Val joined his father and Elspeth for a cup of tea. After clearing his throat a few times, he finally turned to his wife and said, “I have a favor to ask you, Elspeth.”

  His wife smiled. “Anything, Val.”

  Val grinned. “You may not be so ready when you know what it is. I want you to send our excuses to Anne for tomorrow morning.”

  Elspeth gave Val a puzzled look. “Why ever should I do that?”

  “Because I told Jack Belden you already had and that Anne would be riding alone.”

  “That was rather high-handed of you, Valentine!”

  “Shall I leave you two to fi—figure this out?” asked Lord Faringdon dryly.

  “No, stay, Charles,” Elspeth reassured him.

  “I thought you favored Jack,” explained Val, “And he has not had any opportunities to spend time with Anne. She is always with her other two candidates.”

  “Don’t whine, Val. It does not become you,” Elspeth told him tartly, but she softened her words with a smile. “I did think Jack would be a good choice, but now that I have seen Anne with the other two men, I am not so sure. She certainly doesn’t seem to like Jack very much.” Elspeth hesitated. “On the other hand, I don’t think she has given him very much time. It isn’t a bad idea, but I will feel like I am betraying my old friend, Val.”

  “Not betraying, Elspeth. Merely giving her an opportunity to, er…make a more informed decision.”

  Elspeth smiled. “I suppose it is not so awful. And I confess, as much as I like Lord Windham, I can’t help wondering if he has conquered his feelings for Lady Julia. And none of us has met the baron’s daughter. All right, I’ll send Anne a note.”

  * * * *

  Anne opened Elspeth’s note before dinner.

  “Will you cancel your ride?” Sarah asked when she heard the reason for Anne’s disappointed sigh.

  “Of course not. I like to ride before the crowds.”

  “Do you want me to accompany you?”

  “That is very kind of you, my dear,” said Anne, her overly sweet tone cut by the look of amusement on her face.

  “Oh, all right, I admit I have never been an early riser!”

  “I will have Patrick, so there is no reason for you to get up early.”

  * * * *

  “Good morning, Patrick. It will just be you and me this morning,” Anne said with a smile as Patrick gave her a leg up.

  “Mrs. Aston will not be joining you, then?”

  “No, she wasn’t feeling well and wished to sleep in.”

  They rode down the street, their horses’ hooves adding to the clatter of the London morning. When they reached the entrance to the park, Anne motioned Patrick up next to her.

  “You need not hang behind, Patrick. I’d appreciate the company while we let the horses warm up.”

  “Thank ye, miss.”

  After a brisk walk and trot and then a slow canter, Anne reined her mare in.

  “She has such lovely gaits. It is like being in a rocking chair. You have a good eye for a horse, Patrick. Did you raise them in Ireland?”

  “Me, miss? Raise horses!” Patrick gave something between a snort and a laugh. “Why, an Irishman couldn’t even own a horse worth more than five pounds until recently, Miss Heriot.” />
  “I didn’t realize that, Patrick.”

  “I know horses because my father was head groom at Lord Blount’s stable before I joined the army.”

  “Well, you are a natural with them, Patrick.”

  “Thank ye, Miss Heriot.”

  “Why didn’t you go back home when you were discharged?”

  “Nothing to go home for. Me ma died when I was five. Me da and me sisters and brothers died in 1807.”

  “I am so sorry.” Anne could think of nothing else to say, but without thinking, she reached out and rested her hand on his for a moment.

  “Was there no one else to go back to?”

  “You mean a woman? No, Mary O’Byrne’s father sold her to a rich widower.”

  Anne was quiet, trying to imagine what it would be like to lose everything that made life worth living. She was so intent on Patrick’s story that she didn’t notice the approaching rider until he was directly in front of them.

  “Good morning, Miss Heriot. What a delightful surprise!”

  What an annoying man, thought Anne. He always manages to make it sound like the delight should be mine. “You’re up early, Lord Aldborough. And after such a busy evening last night, dancing with all the young ladies.”

  “Not any busier than yours, Miss Heriot. And not all the young ladies. Your dance card was full, as I recall. May I join you now?”

  Anne gave Patrick a grateful glance as he kept his gelding next to hers while Lord Aldborough fell in on her other side.

  “Will you introduce me to your companion, Miss Heriot? I don’t think we have met, Mr.…?”

  “Gillen. Patrick Gillen, sor.”

  “Patrick is my groom, Lord Aldborough.”

  “But he hasn’t always been a groom, I would guess—the army?”

  “Former sergeant Gillen of the Gonnaught Rangers, sor.”

  “A fine regiment. I was not there, but I heard you and your fellow rangers were splendid at Talavera.”

  “Thank ye, sor.”

  Now he was charming Patrick! The man was incorrigible!

  “Were you in any battles, Lord Aldborough?” she asked.