Chapter 5
Dressed in a pale pink gown, Jane stepped out of her bedchamber and quietly closed the door behind her.
The soft click echoed louder than expected in the stillness of the upper corridor.
She paused, her hand lingering on the brass doorknob.
Her limbs were heavy, and her mind clouded with fatigue.
They had arrived home just as dawn crept across the horizon, and though she had slept, it had not been restful.
The events of the past week haunted her dreams, and her waking hours, too.
She had considered requesting a breakfast tray be brought to her room; the thought of facing anyone felt too exhausting, but she had dismissed the idea just as quickly.
She needed to be braver than that. If she hid away every time she felt overwhelmed, she would never recover her place in the world.
Her future might be uncertain, but she would not cower from it.
Gripping the banister, Jane descended the grand staircase, its polished mahogany gleaming in the soft light that filtered through the stained-glass window above the landing.
She had only reached the halfway point when a sharp knock echoed through the foyer, startling her slightly.
Her gaze flicked towards the front door, just as the butler crossed the marble floor to answer it.
She had not expected company. Certainly not at this hour. Certainly not—
“I am here to speak with Lady Jane.”
The voice. That voice. It was unmistakable, even after all these years.
Aunt Cosima.
Jane’s breath caught. Her slippered feet paused on the final step as the butler swung the door open. In walked a petite, elegantly dressed woman with dark hair that was now streaked with silver, her bearing still as regal as Jane remembered.
“Aunt Cosima?” she managed.
Her aunt’s sharp eyes brightened. “Jane,” she said with a smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “Good heavens, you look just like your mother did at your age. It’s uncanny.”
Jane’s heart twisted at the mention of her mother. “Why are you here?”
“I read the newssheets, my dear. I would have come sooner, had you written me. I was ready to leave immediately, but the driver refused to travel through the night—safety and all that. He was right, of course, but I was dreadfully impatient.”
Her aunt removed her straw hat, revealing more silver than Jane remembered. She stepped forward, eyes roaming over her. “Let me have a proper look at you. Turn around, if you please.”
“Pardon?”
“Turn,” Aunt Cosima repeated with a flick of her fingers.
Flustered, Jane did as instructed, turning in a slow circle, suddenly aware of every imperfection.
Her aunt clucked her tongue. “You are far too thin. But that can be remedied. Now”—her eyes darted around the hall—“why haven’t you invited me into the drawing room yet? I assume they serve tea in this house.”
Jane opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She looked helplessly at the butler.
With a knowing dip of his head, he said, “I shall see to it, my lady,” and slipped away to do her bidding.
“Would you care to join me in the drawing room?” Jane asked, feeling as if she were no more than a guest in her own life.
“I would,” Aunt Cosima replied grandly, lifting her chin like a queen granting an audience.
Jane led the way, still disoriented by her aunt’s sudden arrival. Once seated across from her, she said cautiously, “I must admit that I didn’t expect you to come. Father always told me you wanted nothing to do with me.”
“That is absolute poppycock,” Aunt Cosima said, scoffing. “Did you receive none of the letters I sent you?”
Jane shook her head. “No. And I wrote to you… but Father showed me letters returned, unopened.”
Her aunt’s expression darkened. “I never received a single one.”
For a moment, Jane couldn’t speak. “I thought you hated me.”
“Absolutely not, Child. I knew he had poisoned you against me. I could hardly blame you since you were under his thumb,” Aunt Cosima said. “I must assume that he disowned you for your little… indiscretion.”
“Yes, my brother informed me that I was dead to both of them.”
“Your father and brother are cads.”
Jane nodded slowly. “You aren’t wrong. My father made me promise never to speak to you. He said it would ruin our family’s reputation.”
“Yes, because I married a merchant,” Aunt Cosima said with a snort. “A very wealthy one, mind you, but none of that mattered to your father. In his eyes, I married beneath me.”
“Didn’t you?”
A faraway smile softened her aunt’s features. “I married for love. And I would not trade that for all the titles in the realm.”
“I’m… I’m glad you’re here,” she admitted.
Her aunt’s smile widened. “Good, because I’ve come to take you home with me.”
“Now?”
“Well, perhaps after a cup of tea and something to eat. I’m starving.” She snapped her fingers. “Yes, a boiled egg and toast will do nicely.”
Right on cue, the butler appeared in the doorway. “Yes, Ma’am?”
“Will you bring me a boiled egg and toast?” Aunt Cosima declared. “And don’t be stingy with the butter. There is nothing worse than dry toast.”
With a dutiful bow, he vanished.
“I’ve secured a townhouse just a few blocks away,” Aunt Cosima continued. “You may visit your friends as often as you like. But you’re coming with me.”
Jane stared. “How did you manage that so quickly?”
“Never underestimate the power of a well-placed gold coin,” she said with a smirk. “Now, we must make a plan to restore you to Society.”
“That’s impossible,” Jane replied.
“I daresay that nothing is impossible when you’re as rich as I am,” her aunt declared. “People tend to listen when I speak.”
Jane tried to look hopeful but failed. “I rejected a duke. At the altar. I’m ruined.”
“Yes, you are,” Aunt Cosima said matter-of-factly. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t make you the most desirable heiress in London.”
“My dowry won’t tempt a man in good standing.”
Her aunt leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “I am worth ten times what I inherited, Jane. I’ve invested wisely. I can make you a princess if I so choose.”
Jane’s voice trembled. “Why would you do this for me?”
“Because I promised your mother I would watch over you.”
Emotion welled in Jane’s chest. “Thank you… but—”
“No buts,” her aunt snapped. “We’ll transform you into the woman every man will be clamoring to marry.”
“It won’t be easy.”
“It shouldn’t be,” her aunt countered. “Are you afraid of hard work?”
Jane straightened. “No, but I am being realistic.”
“Realism is overrated. Besides, I didn’t marry for title—I married for love. Do you want the same?”
“I do,” Jane said. “I’ve always wanted that.”
A reflective look came into her aunt’s eyes. “I remember. You used to act out those ridiculous plays where the princess always married for love.”
“They weren’t ridiculous,” Jane said with a small smile. “And they always had happy endings.”
“They still can.”
“I want to believe that is true, but things are different now.”
A maid entered and placed a tray before Aunt Cosima, lifting the lid with a flourish. Her aunt picked up the toast, took a bite, and grimaced. “Well, that is a disappointment. It is dry. Utterly dry.”
Jane laughed under her breath. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this.
“You should go pack,” Aunt Cosima said, setting the toast down with disdain. “We’ll leave as soon as I finish nibbling this travesty.”
“I can’t just leave.”
“Why not? You should be with your family. Your real family. And not your father or brother—they’re both halfwits.”
Jane giggled. “You don’t think very highly of them.”
“I think they’re fools who abandoned you. Family should stick by one another, no matter what.”
“But—”
A look silenced her. “What did I say about ‘but’?”
“What if my father finds out? Or the Duke of Brackenford?” Jane asked. “You are risking both of their wraths.”
“Good,” Aunt Cosima said, taking up her fork. “I like having enemies. It keeps things much more interesting.”
Jane smiled despite herself. “You truly want to be associated with me?”
“What’s the point of having money and power if I can’t use it for my favorite niece?”
“I’m your only niece.”
“All the more reason.” Her aunt took a bite of egg, made a face, and stood. “Yuck. I suppose I will need to eat at home. How have you survived this food? Even an incompetent fool can cook an egg.”
“I find the cooking to be more than tolerable here.”
Looking unimpressed, her aunt replied, “We need to get you out of here before it is too late.”
“I must say goodbye to Lord and Lady Westmere,” Jane said. “They’ve been very kind.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
As if the mere mention of her name conjured her up, Olivia appeared in the doorway. “Oh, I didn’t realize you had company, Jane.”
Jane turned towards her friend. “Lady Westmere, may I introduce my aunt, Lady Cosima Farmonth?”
Olivia curtsied. “My lady.”
“A pleasure, Lady Westmere,” her aunt replied warmly. “Thank you for caring so diligently for my niece.”
“She’s always welcome in our home.”
“And what a charming home. It is so quaint,” Aunt Cosima said, glancing around. “Shall we, Jane?”
“I need to pack,” she responded.
“Where are you going?” Olivia asked, her brows furrowed.
Jane knew an explanation was in order. “My aunt invited me to come live with her, at least, for now.”
“Yes, and what fun shall we have. I’ll have my footmen retrieve your trunks.” With a flick of her wrist, her aunt was already heading towards the door. “Come along, Jane.”
Jane hesitated, still dazed by it all. But something inside her stirred—something that had been dormant for far too long.
Hope.
And, cautiously, she followed.
Alistair sat hunched over his desk, elbows planted on either side of the open ledger, his quill motionless in his hand.
He’d been working through estate accounts since early morning.
It was an endless parade of columns and numbers that refused to align.
His shoulders ached from sitting too long, and his patience was growing thin.