Chapter Nine
“And of course I couldn’t disagree with the man.
He was correct on nearly every criticism of the Americans,” Liddell was saying as the main course of roast capon was brought out.
“But then, I didn’t need to go on a tour to understand that.
I’ve suffered through quite a number of politicians from the colonies over the years to know that the entire country is lacking, not only in manners and morale, but in basic decency. ”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had the opportunity to meet someone from America,” Jane replied as one of the servants, Diane, plated her dish with roasted potatoes and carrots. “But it must have been terribly exciting to speak with Mr. Dickens.”
“It was indeed. But count yourself lucky, Miss Atherton. I wouldn’t readily foster an American should I be able to avoid it. Their entire people,” he said the word with a sneer, “seem in competition with one another to offend English sensibilities. Don’t you think so, Milton?”
For the last hour, Mr. Liddell had droned on about every famous writer, painter, and politician he could remember in some sort of misguided attempt at impressing everyone at the dinner table.
Samuel had stopped listening twenty minutes earlier, when he had tried to disparage the former prime minister, John Russell.
Lord Russell had been a close friend of the Miltons for several years, and while it was evident that Mr. Liddell was unaware, he didn’t seem aware of the coolness that had settled around the table.
In fact, the politician didn’t seem to be aware of anything except Jane.
Truly, Samuel himself could barely focus on anything else. She was being so attentive to their guest that it should please Samuel, yet he found the opposite was true. The more she smiled, or asked questions, or leaned toward Mr. Liddell, the more agitated Samuel became.
“Mr. Milton?” Mr. Liddell said, shaking him from his thoughts.
“Hm? Oh yes, quite,” he replied, unsure of what he had just agreed to. By the look on his father’s face across the table though, Samuel suspected that he had made a mistake.
“You see?” Mr. Liddell continued. “Even the Scots don’t like Americans.”
The man chuckled as he forked a piece of meat and shoveled it into his mouth. Samuel’s father, who was notorious for saying as few words as possible, cleared his throat, which gave his mother pause.
This was not good. Samuel glanced at Jane, whose observant gray eyes were watching everything unfold with meticulous observation. He needed to get a handle on this conversation.
“I believe a good number of Americans are either Scottish or descendants of Scotland. And we mustn’t forget the number of former English men and women who settled there.”
“Yes, but it was the worst of us, wasn’t it?” Mr. Liddell said with a chuckle, as bits of spittle collected at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, I’m not begrudging them for leaving. Although, one can argue that it was the weakest among us to abandon their mother country to go abroad. Don’t you think?”
Samuel placed his fork on the side of his plate.
It was obvious that inviting Liddell to Glasgow had been a mistake.
Though the man certainly had sway over a number of members of Parliament, to have to suffer his lack of empathy.
Samuel and his family had personally known dozens of people who had emigrated to the United States over the past decade due to poverty, famine, expanding population, and displacement from the Highland clearances.
And while there wasn’t one single reason that had caused the mass exodus of his countrymen, every factor had been based in the pursuit of profit over people.
Samuel opened his mouth to inform the politician, but then Jane spoke.
“Do you not think it a brave act? To leave one’s home in search of a better life?” Jane asked demurely. “I certainly doubt I would be able to do something so courageous.”
“Haven’t you done just that though?” Mr. Liddell asked. “Leaving London for Glasgow?”
A coy smile spread across her face and Samuel felt equal parts intrigued and annoyed. Why was she being so pleasant to this toad of a man?
“As different as Glasgow is to London, it’s still a part of Her Majesty’s realm.
I can hardly claim to be as fearless as those who leave these lands, particularly when many of them have no other choice.
In fact, I think the Scots that have emigrated to foreign shores are perhaps the bravest among us.
” She glanced at Samuel’s father. “Don’t you agree, Mr. Milton? ”
The elderly Milton glanced up from his meal, his eyes completely focused on Jane. Then, perhaps only to the surprise of his wife and son, he smiled.
“I do indeed, Miss Atherton.”
Jane smiled brightly as she continued her meal, unaware of the importance of what had just taken place.
Samuel’s father had always been a quiet man but had become more so in his later years.
Rarely did he believe that anyone said anything of importance and his dislike for the English in particular had only added to his silence, since Samuel had a number of English business associates.
He hadn’t been happy to learn that a peer’s son and a member of Parliament was coming to stay at Milton House, but he had kept his opinions to himself, as he understood that it was for the benefit of the company.
Yet he smiled and answered Jane without qualm.
*
After dinner, Samuel and his father played a round of billiards with Mr. Liddell, as was custom, while the ladies retired to the drawing room for tea. Though drinks flowed and cigars were smoked, the entire party eventually found their beds sometime after midnight.
Of course, Samuel still had a mountain of paperwork to attend to and decided to head to his office to work. He managed to dedicate one whole hour to working, uninterrupted, before his eyes began to get heavy and his tired brain began to wander.
Jane had been an absolute vision that evening.
Dressed in a pale-green gown that hung off her shoulders, he was surprised that it should fit her so well, considering it had come from one of the Sharpe sisters.
Jane was not quite as tall as Faith, nor as buxom as Hope, yet the gown fit her like a dream.
Quite literally. She looked like some sort of wood nymph, with her sparkling gray eyes and cool blonde hair styled in a way that made Samuel wonder who on his staff was so talented.
When she first entered the parlor that night, he had to fight to keep his breathing even. Never, in all his life, had he seen a more beautiful woman and he loathed that he was so affected by just the sight of her. Because Mr. Liddell had been equally intrigued.
By the end of dinner, Mr. Liddell had all but sworn his allegiance to her, praising her for her gentle disposition and cleverness.
Having been raised in a peerage home, Jane had been instructed since she was young on how to dictate conversations, debates, and pleasantries with all the grace and decorum of a member of the royal family, and it had been a joy watching her spar with the Parliament member.
Mr. Liddell was a boastful sort of man, the kind who can’t help but rattle off accomplishment after accomplishment to revel in the reactions of people around him.
It had been interesting to witness the precision with which Jane had been able to flatter him while coyly teasing him at the same time, soothing his ego while shaming him all at once, and Mr. Liddell appeared to enjoy every minute of her attention.
Which annoyed Samuel more than it should have.
In fact, Samuel had to change the subject twice just to stop the fawning glances Mr. Liddell kept sending to Jane.
It had irritated Samuel that he should be so affected, but then he reminded himself that Jane was a member of his staff and therefore under his protection as far as he was concerned.
Though she may be from Liddell’s world, she was living in his house now, and Samuel wasn’t willing to let any one of his staff be compromised by a few pretty words.
Which seemed to be the only declarations Mr. Liddell had for Jane.
He brought his hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes, thinking about the politician. What a tadger.
Pushing his chair back from his desk, he stretched out his back like a cat that had been curled up for too long and rolled his shoulders before standing.
He had taken off his dinner jacket at some point and tossed it on the arm of a chair.
Reaching for it now, he flung it over his shoulder as he left the room, only to hear loud whispers coming from the floor below.
He slowed his steps, sure that whoever was speaking was trying to do so quietly.
“…Please don’t tell on me…” A feminine voice floated up from the first floor.
Leaning over the railing, he saw Mr. Tompkins and one of the maids, a redhead named Mary, if Samuel was remembering correctly. They couldn’t see him, as they were very close and talking fast, but Samuel managed to hear several words such as, “lie,” “steal,” and “jail.”
Frowning, he called down.
“Mr. Tompkins?” he said loudly, causing the two bodies to separate immediately. “What’s going on down there?”
“Oh, Mr. Milton, I’m sorry to have disturbed you so late.”
“It’s no trouble. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Er, no, sir, it’s nothing that can’t be dealt with tomorrow.”
“Dealt with?” Samuel repeated, not liking the term. “I’m coming down.”
“Yes, sir, of course, sir,” Mr. Tompkins said loudly, adding softly, “Now see what you’ve done?”
Confused, Samuel hurried down the stairs to find a tearstained-face maid, clutching something wrapped in a length of cloth to her chest, and a red-faced Mr. Tompkins.
“What’s all this?”