Chapter 8
Eight
Ineed a new trunk.” The small trunk Jane had fled Kellmore with the morning after her father’s break-in would never hold all the things Jane purchased at Alex’s insistence.
“I have one in the attic you can use.” Alex removed four new pairs of stockings from the box in which they had arrived.
Shifts, petticoats, and a new set of stays filled the end of Jane’s bed. Jane picked up the flannel petticoat. “This is an extravagance I do not need.”
“Richard said the winter is usually cold at Redbridge. This year, with all of its unusual weather, promises to be worse. You need the petticoat.”
Jane sighed. “And these stockings, I have many at Kellmore. Surely we can get them on the way to The Willows to fetch Grandfather.”
“How many of your stockings have not been twice darned?”
It would be easier to climb to the roof of Bath Abbey than to argue with Alex.
As long as Jane could remember, Alex had found ways to save pennies and stretch budgets.
Yet in the past four days her sister had purchased everything available in any shop in town.
Well, not everything. There had been a spectacularly ugly gown available at one dressmaker’s.
As predicted, at the beginning of the Bath season few gowns could be commissioned to be finished in less than a week, and the fabric selection was lean even for Jane’s tastes.
They had secured a gray morning gown and a primrose dinner gown.
Alex held up the morning gown. “I had hoped to find colors other than gray and brown for you. You need more color in your life.”
“But—”
Alex held up her hand. “Jane, that was over six and a half years ago. There is no need for you to wear drab colors anymore. Mother would not expect you to nor want you to live your life in mourning colors.”
“I miss her.” Especially now. A woman should have her mother’s guidance for her marriage.
“We all miss her and always will. It is not what one wears that is the true state of mourning, it is what is in the heart. Look at Richard. He wears an armband showing he is mourning for his wife, but did he act like a grieving man?”
“No.” Jane set down the chemise she folded. She knew enough of the story to know the Duke was not overly fond of the woman to whom he was married. Grieving men waited longer to remarry unless they had several motherless children to raise.
“I will be required to wear black after Father dies, but I will feel nothing akin to the sorrow I felt at Mother’s and William’s deaths.
Yet when grandfather dies, I will not be required to be in mourning half as long, and I will feel that as keenly as I do Mother’s. Yet I will not wear black forever.”
“I have not worn black for years.” A poor defense of Jane’s choice to wear colors consistent with half mourning.
Alex sighed and took Jane’s hand. “Phil told me what she saw and heard in the garden that day. Father was wrong to tell you that wearing the pink dress was not honoring our mother. She loved that dress and was so excited to see you happy with it on your birthday, even more than George’s blue one.
Do you remember how you danced in that dress when we had our last dancing lessons at the Godderidge’s? ”
“I felt so grown-up. The dress was the longest one I owned.”
Alex took Jane’s hand. “I wish Phil could have stopped the governess from burning your dress.”
Jane shared that wish. “If I wear color, people will notice me. I am the shy one, not the brave one.”
“Nonsense, you were very brave to confront Father when he was hunting for valuables.”
“Foolish. If I were cleverer, like George…”
“You cannot always compare yourself, and just because you are twins doesn’t mean you must be opposites.
Yes, there are absolutes. Your hair is longer, you are shorter than George, but you are not short.
Why half the women in the ton are shorter than you.
And if you are good, does that make George evil? ”
“She is not evil.”
“She wore pants.”
“That does not make her evil.” Jane would defend her twin on that point forever.
“Then she is the good one and you evil?”
“Father says—”
Alex threw the clothes she folded down and stood stomping Peggy for extra affect.
“Father lies. You do not have a single evil bone in your body! Father was so unkind to you, and I am beginning to suspect I know only a portion of what he did and said. Oh Jane. In so many ways, you are the best of us.”
Unprepared for the smothering hug or her sister’s tears, Jane pushed her protests back into the private place with the secrets she tried to keep from her sisters.
The times she took the blame for some imagined infraction.
The pinches, punches and punishments. When the tearful moment passed, Alex composed herself and called for tea.
Tea arrived at the same time as Phil in a stylish new carriage. For a moment all thoughts of father were forgotten.
“Are you expanding again?” asked Alex as soon as the three of them were alone.
Phil smoothed the front of her dress. “How can you tell?”
“It is the combination of looking slightly green from your journey, which you never do, and the brightness in your eyes.” Jane seconded her sister’s observation.
“Even Michael’s mother has not guessed.”
“Does Michael know? Or did you undertake this journey without telling him?” Alex passed a plate of biscuits. “Shall I ask Mrs. Green for ginger tea?”
“I would like some, please. Of course, I told Michael. He knew before we came to the harvest fair. I swore him to secrecy, and he has been vigilant in keeping my condition private.”
Jane and Alex looked at each other in surprise. How had they missed the signs only four weeks ago?
Phil laughed. “I only figured out on our journey to Kellmore for the fair. I have not felt as ill as I did with Lawrence. So perhaps this one is a girl. Other than extended carriage rides, I have not felt ill at all.”
“What about the travel to Redbridge House? You only have a day to recover,” asked Jane.
“Richard provided the most comfortable carriage I have ever seen. I doubt even Queen Charlotte has such a conveyance. One can hardly feel the bumps at all. Alex, you will not believe how well it rides. So, do not worry, sweet Jane, I will be able to travel again by morning.”
“The Duke does nothing by halves, does he? He left Jane more money than we can spend trying to outfit her,” said Alex. “You must help convince her to wear color. You should see her in blue. I wish there had been time to commission a dress.”
“It is far too much. I have more clothes now than I know what to do with.” On this, Jane would protest. “Did you bring my gown from our aunt’s?”
“That and more. Thanks to the express Richard sent, we had a day to shop. When the Dowager Duchess walks into the shop, the impossible happens. Wait until you see what is in the trunk I brought.”
Heat filled not only Jane’s face, but most of her body. “The Dowager Duchess went shopping for me?”
“Yes, she came back to Town for some items she needed and was delighted not to look at wall coverings. Michael’s mother went as well. They are sisters, you know. They were as giddy as schoolgirls. They purchased the most adorable wrappers. I am in love with the dressing gown Lady Anne chose. And—”
“Stop! Please do not say they bought me a nightgown. Alex forced me to get a new one already. I cannot think of my future husband’s mother—” Jane hid her face in her hands.
It was all too much. She had tried to envision kissing Richard as she knew she must on her wedding day after they left the church, as Phil had.
Fainting would embarrass not only her but him as well, and he did not deserve that.
Phil came and put an arm around Jane. “I did not mean to distress you, dearest. I was there, and everything we purchased will be to your liking.”
“Not the most comforting of thoughts, Phil,” said Alex. “Our sister fainted when she realized she must kiss Richard. Hers is not a love match like yours, and from my observation, that makes a difference.”
“Oh dear, I am sorry. Did he not at least kiss you on the cheek after his proposal?”
Jane pointed to the purple bruise under her eye. “It was much worse then. I did not want him to see me like this.”
“Father?” Rage vibrated from Phil.
“No, I’m afraid she fainted and hit Peggy.” A laugh tried to force its way out of Alex’s mouth at the telling, but her sister suppressed it valiantly.
“No wonder Michael said it was an odd proposal. He would not tell me much, as he said we would have days to talk in the carriage.” Phil took Jane’s hand.
“You have absolutely nothing to fear. My wedding night was perfect, and Richard was the one who advised Michael. I am sure yours will be lovely as well.”
Never had Jane not wanted to talk with her sisters, but four or five days together with happily married Phil might be the exception.
There would be more discussions of nightgowns, kissing, and all that she had agreed to in fulfilling her part to produce an heir.
Her plan was to faint, as she’d read about in Le Roman de Perceforest and knew she could sleep through the experience.
If only she could do the same for her sister’s discussions of marital bliss.
Hopefully, the book she picked on rules of decorum for the peerage including duchesses, would be a distraction.