Chapter Fourteen #2
“Yes, but surely now you might be able to enjoy the spoils of your hard work.”
“I doubt it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to be the duke.”
Jane’s brow pinched together, curious as to why he would say that.
“But you’re not the duke.”
“Aren’t I?” he said, his tone curious. “Aren’t all men who attain a position of power victims of our own hubris?
Who’s to say that I wouldn’t treat my future bride with whatever contempt that might emerge in the days after our wedding?
Why should I be any different from the duke if I truly believe that every man is equal, and no better or no worse than our counterparts?
” He glanced around the room, his eyes unfocused.
“I’m certainly not as refined with my tastes as he.
The Duke of Argyll’s home was a joy to the senses, while this place has been packed to the rafters with expensive odds and ends from all over the Continent, and beyond. It’s an assault on the eyes.”
Jane couldn’t disagree, but she felt as though he was being too hard on himself.
“It’s not all that bad. It’s a very pretty home you have here, although perhaps some things could be done away with. Like the pair of obelisks you have standing in the art gallery.”
“You don’t like them? I bought them while I was in Egypt. You know they’re an exact replica of the Luxor obelisks the Ottoman Empire gifted to France in 1830.” He slowly closed his eyes, then opened them again before focusing on Jane. He smiled. “You really are lovely to look at.”
Jane felt her cheeks warm.
“I think that’s the medicine talking.”
“No. No, I mean it. It was the first thing I thought when I saw you on the train. I thought, my God, now there’s a face that would launch a thousand ships.”
Jane couldn’t help but smile at his outrageous claim. And his nod to Marlowe in particular spoke to her love of literature.
“I think you must rest now, Mr. Milton.”
“But I knew better,” he said, ignoring her words as his head lulled back against the pillow. “I knew not to get close to you.”
That struck Jane as odd. She knew she should leave, as he was not in the right state of mind, and yet, she could not stop herself from inquiring.
“Why did you know that?”
“Because women are dangerous. Particularly beautiful women.” He shook his head. “And I was right. You are a dangerous woman, Miss Atherton. The most dangerous woman I’ve ever met.”
It was curious that he should say that women were dangerous. Particularly when she knew the opposite to be true.
“I’m no more of a danger to you than your own self, Mr. Milton.”
“That’s the problem. I don’t trust myself when it comes to you.” He looked at her and she saw that his pupils were pinpoints. Goodness, she hoped Dr. Hall hadn’t given him too much. “You smell like jasmine.”
Her mouth quirked to the side.
“Do I?”
“Mhhm.” He nodded his head. “Why is that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, it’s lovely. You’re lovely.”
“And you are under the influence,” she said, standing up.
She went to the edge of the bed and pulled the sheets up in an effort to tuck him in, but one long arm reached out and grabbed her forearm. Jane froze.
“Don’t leave. Please. Not yet.”
“I… I should go,” she murmured more to herself than to him. But then, he released her. “Tell me about London, Miss Atherton,” he said as his eyes closed.
Unwittingly, Jane leaned against the edge of the bed.
“What would you like to know?”
“Do you miss it?”
Jane thought about it for a moment. Although it had been uncomfortable leaving the only home she had ever known, she couldn’t say that it had been for the worse. If she were still in London, under her brother Jeremy’s protection, she’d probably still be cooped up in the dowager house with Cora.
“No. No I don’t. I’m happy here.”
He smiled, though his eyes remained closed, and Jane was able to stare at him openly. His dark hair had curled slightly since drying out and hung over his forehead. His face was relaxed and really rather beautiful. Jane nearly reached up to touch his cheek but refrained from doing so.
How had this man managed to avoid marriage? Surely there was someone who had loved him once. Or at least, there was a woman that had touched his heart before.
“Have you ever loved someone, Mr. Milton?” She all but whispered, unable to stop herself.
“No.”
“You don’t have any sweetheart from growing up?”
He shook his head slowly back and forth, his eyes still closed.
“No. I was too busy trying to figure out how to grow our business.”
“But surely a man in your position has had… Well…” Jane felt her face warm as she realized what she was asking. It wasn’t any of her business and yet she had become exceedingly comfortable around this man. He opened his eyes and she felt exposed. “Forgive me. I’m overstepping again.”
“I don’t mind,” he said, his tone oddly rough. “What do you want to know about me?”
She wanted to know how many women had fallen in love with him over the years.
Surely, there were hundreds of broken hearts left in his wake.
Jane even felt like she had fallen a little bit in love with him in just the last hour.
Surely he wasn’t without some sort of fault.
He had to have a mistress or a broken engagement or something.
But she couldn’t ask him that. So instead, she patted his hand as it lay on the bed beside his body. “I’m afraid you have to rest now.”
He obediently closed his eyes this time and did not reach for her.
“I don’t want to.”
“I know. But could you rest a little? For me?”
“For you?” he murmured as sleep took him. “Anything for you.”
Jane watched him sleep for a shameful amount of time before realizing it. But even as she left his room, she was aware of a miserable little knot in her stomach that refused to go away.
*
Jane didn’t see much of Samuel for the next few days, as she was too preoccupied with readying the house for the impending ball.
She had decided on light fare for the dinner menu, focusing on fish and venison rather than the usual beef and poultry.
Though Mr. Liddell undoubtedly would be more used to farm animal fare, there was something ever so wild about Scottish food that she thought would enchant the politician.
Rolls of white silk were delivered to Mrs. Milton’s displeasure at first, until she saw the fabric dressed around the doorways, while hundreds of silver and pewter vases were positioned on mirrored trays and placed in every possible free space.
To have a ball in the dead of winter was not common, but with enough reflective surfaces, the gas lamps and candlelight would reflect the mirrors, which would hopefully make the entire house shine like the sun.
On Saturday afternoon, Jane retired to her room to change and prepare for the ball just as the first of the guests had begun to arrive.
With a hot bath prepared by one of the housemaids, Jane was stripped down to her undergarments before being left alone to bathe herself.
After scrubbing every inch of her body with a luxurious bar of soap that smelled like jasmine, Jane scrubbed her hair.
Climbing out of the tub, she wrapped herself in a large, fluffy length of towel and began brushing her hair by the fire when there was a knock on her door.
“Yes?”
“Are you finished, my lady?” the housemaid called out.
“Oh, yes.”
Instantly, the door opened and a small army of maids marched in. One was carrying a gown, another freshly pressed silk stockings and undergarments, and the last had a pair of silk slippers in her hand and an especially important looking leather box under her other arm.
“What’s all this?” Jane inquired.
“The dress has just arrived from Lady Belle’s seamstress. There’s a note stating that it should be up to standard, but we’ll have to try it on to make sure.”
“And the undergarments?”
“Came with the dress.”
“I see. And the shoes?”
“Also from the seamstress,” said the maid who placed them on the ground. “But this,” she said, picking up the box from under her arm and lifting it up, “is from Mr. Milton.”
“What is it?” Jane asked as the maid placed it on the table.
The maid opened it up to reveal the silver and sapphire star necklace she had seen the other day at Milton’s Arcade. Jane’s mouth fell open.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous, my lady,” one of the younger maids said.
“Absolutely breathtaking.”
“I can’t wear this,” Jane whispered.
“Why not?” the youngest maid asked, crestfallen.
“Hush, Maura.”
“It’s just, it’s too much,” Jane said. “I’m an employee, not a guest.”
“Mr. Milton insists, I’m afraid.”
“He does?”
The maid nodded. “He said you were to wear it tonight and if you tried to argue, we were to tell you that it was on loan and that you shouldn’t feel any particular way about it.”
“Except that if you refused, we were to call on Mr. Milton, and he would come to your room himself and put it on.”
“Surely not.” Jane laughed, a little amused, a little frightened that he might actually do that. “Very well.”
She dressed quickly, thanks to the expert maids, and though the dress she had been gifted from Lady Belle was a size too small, it really was a beautiful gown.
It was a bare shouldered gown, made of deep blue taffeta, with small silver stars embroidered into it.
The similarities between the dress and the necklace were almost comical, but Jane was more concerned about her hair.
The maids had parted her hair into four sections and were curling the front portions while brushing, teasing, and eventually twirling the back into a bun that was covered by a small piece of lace.
Four large curls hung from either side of her face, and when the necklace was placed on her and she caught her reflection in the looking glass, she was momentarily stunned to realize that the beauty looking back at her was she.
How had they done that?
“Oh, my goodness,” she said softly, before turning to face them. “You’re all such miracle workers.”