Chapter Twelve
Jane pressed her back against the wall immediately after leaving Samuel’s office. No, she needed to remember to call him Mr. Milton. She had begun to think of him by his first name, thanks to spending all her time with his mother.
Oh, goodness. Mrs. Milton. Panic settled in the pit of her stomach. What would she think if she knew what had just transpired between Jane and her son? Surely she’d be mortified and ashamed of the both of them.
Jane took a deep, bracing breath. She needed to calm herself down. No one had witnessed their kiss, but the mere thought of it was enough for her to feel guilty for the rest of the morning.
She had only meant to kiss him on the cheek, merely to convey her thanks to him for being so kind, but her body had betrayed her and worked of its own volition.
He had apologized to her and was so self-aware of his position and power that it startled her.
She had met greater men before, by fortune or by birth, but she had never met a man who had been so eager to take on the responsibility of his mistakes, as well as the mistakes of others, and that had truly confounded her.
And that kiss. She breathed deeply. She had kissed a handful of gentlemen here and there in her former life, but no one had ever been so enthusiastic, nor had they ever been as raw.
He was older than any other person she had kissed before.
Perhaps that’s what had been so tantalizing.
His kiss felt heavy and holy, like the physical reincarnation of some divine ideal.
It was completely different than anything she had ever experienced before and she yearned for more.
As if she were suddenly hungry for something she couldn’t understand, nor could she quite satisfy it.
All she wanted to do was rush right back into his office and be near him, but her mother’s voice suddenly sounded in her mind from the depths of her memory.
Men are dangerous…
Her mother had said that hundreds of times, and she had meant it.
Jane had to remember that. She had witnessed it firsthand.
Her father, then her brother, and all the gentry and peers they had entertained over the years.
Her mother had consistently pointed out every single word, every action taken against her as well as other women, and repeated it at night, trying to show Jane and Cora that the world was not made for them, but for their counterparts.
Jane knew her mother’s bitterness ran deep, but she had never hated it so much as she did now.
Her mother’s advice had kept her from making mistakes before, but now she felt herself growing bitter.
Had her mother really loathed all men so much that she refused to trust any of them?
If so, why? She was the one that left Mr. Harris and became a bigamist. Had he been cruel to her?
He hardly seemed the type, and yet Jane was sure there was a part of her mother’s story that she was missing.
And now it was affecting her relationships.
Lost in her own thoughts, Jane reported to Mrs. Milton’s office, where she was sitting behind her desk, head bent over her work. Glancing up, she smiled.
“Ah, good morning, Jane.”
“Good morning, Mrs. Milton,” she said absently.
“Are you feeling well, dear? You look flushed.”
Jane immediately put one of her cool hands to her warm cheek.
“Oh yes.”
“I imagine you might look like that, considering.”
Jane blinked.
“Considering what?”
“The rats,” Mrs. Milton whispered loudly.
Ah, yes. The rats. The lie Samuel had instantly manufactured out of thin air to save her from gossip and speculation.
“Oh, that, yes,” she said as she began to straighten up the office.
For some reason, the Miltons were the messiest people.
Mother and son seemed unable to put things where they belonged, yet they could always find what they needed.
However, no one else could. Jane was determined to train the two to put things where they belong, rather than train the rest of the household to anticipate the Miltons.
“We’ve a lot of work to do today, Jane. I’m going to have to go through the menu with the staff for the ball, as well as the flowers, musicians. You know that lot.”
“I do,” Jane said, as she capped two open ink bottles. “My mother was very well known for her elaborate parties. It was one of her favorite things to do, prepare for a ball.”
“Is that so?” Mrs. Milton said, her eyes gleaming. “Well then, perhaps you’d like to take the reins on this?”
“Oh, no, Mrs. Milton—”
“I’d really appreciate it if you did. I’ve never had the head for parties this size. It’s really overwhelming and I know I’m consistently disappointing Samuel.”
“I don’t think he would ever say something like that.”
“Whether he says it or believes it are two different things.” She sighed as she looked over at Jane. “I was not born into this world, and as much as I try, I cannot seem to do what others are capable of. Like Lady Belle.”
“Lady Belle?”
“Oh, she always throws the most wonderful balls. And her nieces do too. Well, Hope and Faith. Grace hasn’t ever hosted a ball.”
Jane shrugged.
“But they were made for it, weren’t they?”
“Well, so were you.”
Jane shook her head.
“My mother enjoyed hosting parties.”
“And you were at her side every time, were you not?”
Jane was, and though it was probably only common knowledge, the way Mrs. Milton was staring at her made her feel as if she knew and wasn’t merely guessing.
“I was.”
“There. Then that settles it. You’ll oversee the details regarding the ball, and that’ll allow me to focus on the tours.”
“Oh, Mrs. Milton, I don’t think can—wait, what tours?”
“Of course you can. You’re perfectly suited for it, my dear. You’ve said so yourself; your mother hosted dozens of balls and soirees. Besides, who better to manage an event for an earl’s son?”
Jane couldn’t argue that. She had been her mother’s shadow growing up, and the lists that she would make.
But she often started a good month in advance.
Jane only had a week. “As for the tours, Samuel wants to take Mr. Liddell around to visit all the operations. You know, the construction sites for the new opera house, the arcade, the offices. Well, perhaps not the offices now, but he did mention possibly taking Mr. Liddell to the lumber yards as well, and he requested that I accompany them.” She smiled.
“So, I’m sure I can leave the ball in your capable hands, yes? I know I count on you, can’t I?”
“Yes, of course,” Jane said automatically, though she didn’t have much faith in herself. But regardless, she had work to do. She picked up a pen and paper, bent over Mrs. Milton’s desk, and began to write. “Flowers, menu, entertainment, invitations.”
“Invitations have already gone out.”
Jane glanced at her.
“What did they look like?”
“Oh, um,” she shook her head. “They were fairly simple. Black lettering on white paper with a gold foil edge.”
Jane nodded.
“Good. That could align with any theme. Are we particular about a theme?”
“A theme?”
“Mother’s parties always had themes.”
“Oh. Well, then perhaps Mr. Liddell could be our theme. Would that work?”
“Usually it’s more encompassing, like a spring fling,” Jane said, tapping her index finger on the desk.
“But it should be encompassed in a single word. What does Mr. Milton wish to convey to his guests? Particularly Mr. Liddell? We know he’s aiming for a bill to be passed, but we need to figure out what exactly would sway Mr. Liddell.
Do you have any idea what the gentleman enjoys? ”
“Enjoys?” Mrs. Milton repeated, her brow creasing. “Er, yes, where did that letter from his neighbor go?” She searched through the piles of papers on her desk. “He is partial to blue and prefers waltzes to polkas.”
“Hm.”
That wasn’t enough for Jane to go on. But she remembered him speaking about his anticipation for spring in London. And he had been wearing a sapphire pin on his ascot the other night.
“Blue and spring…” she murmured to herself. “If only there was a hot house somewhere.”
“Well, Kelvington Gardens is just in town.”
Jane frowned.
“What’s that?”
Mrs. Milton grinned.
“Oh, my dear, you haven’t been to Kelvington yet. Well, you are just going to love it. Kelvington Gardens is a public hothouse. I’ll arrange for you to visit tomorrow.”
“That would be perfect.”
“I’ll see if Mr. Tompkins will be available to escort you.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I’d make Samuel take you, but the poor thing is addicted to his work. I doubt he’d be able to tear himself away.”
There was a sadness that echoed in her words, but Jane didn’t feel comfortable inquiring. So instead, she decided to do some investigating into Mr. Liddell. But before she could even stand up, the housekeeper entered the room, followed by Lady Belle, Arabella, and Cora.
“Lady Belle, Miss Harris, and Miss Atherton,” Mrs. Malcom said with a nod.
“Jane!” Cora said, as she hurried into the room. Jane was quick to meet her halfway as her sister threw her arms around her neck. “It’s only been a few weeks, yet it feels like ages!”
“Cora, what are you doing here?” Jane asked, pulling back. “You didn’t mention anything in your last letter.”
“Lady Belle offered to take Arabella and me into Glasgow so that we might visit with her seamstress.”
“What for?”
“For the ball Mr. Milton is throwing, of course.”
Jane wasn’t aware they had been invited. She glanced at Lady Belle, who was watching her intently.
“That’s very kind of you, Lady Belle, but I’m afraid we don’t have much money at the moment—”
“Hush, my dear girl. I will not be discussing finances today,” she said as she tapped down her cane on the parquet floor. “We will simply take one of your dresses so that we have the proper sizes and be on our way.”
“My sizes?”