Chapter 16
Sixteen
Would the cock ever crow? For the third time since her arrival, Jane waited for dawn.
Did Redbridge even have chickens? Of course an estate this size would. Eggs were served every day she’d been here, and they were a necessity for custards. Likely the coop was not close enough to the residence to be heard.
Jane slipped out of the enormous bed and peeked out of the window.
Clouds hid the stars. No sign of dawn marked the eastern sky.
Though sunrise came late in the winter. What time was it?
She did not dare to go down to the entrance hall to check the large case clock there.
Who knew what servants were up and about.
There was always at least one footman wandering around the place.
Though Michael had not elaborated on the danger posed to the Duke, he had said that the Duke had trusted footmen to help guard Redbridge and its inhabitants.
A thought as disturbing as it was comforting.
Her second night alone in the enormous bed was far from restful. The question of her husband’s whereabouts had only grown with each passing hour. She survived Sunday, turning at every door opening. Straining to hear footsteps that never came.
Attending Sabbath services with Lady Anne, Michael, and Phil had brought a raised eyebrow from the rector, but none from the parishioners.
The few times Jane was introduced to others, it was simply as Viscountess Endelton’s sister, which had saved Jane from a multitude of Your Graces.
The rector kept his promise not to mention her nuptials.
Last night, like the one before, she stayed with Lady Anne, Phil and Michael in the green sitting room playing whist. The clock struck midnight before they all accepted the truth that the Duke was not returning that night either.
Jane attempted to settle back into the bed, where she had surrounded herself with pillows and cushions from the furniture in the sitting room.
Still, she could not sleep. While Phil had told her of the possibility that the Duke might not come to her bed the first night to give her time, not knowing where in the country he was pushed that kindness well past all limits.
Far too restless to wait for the maid who would soundlessly sneak in and add a log to the fire and unwilling to ring for someone in the dead of night or the hour before dawn when the servants saw to their own needs, Jane determined to read the folktales in the original German she found in the enormous library.
What felt like hours slipped by and she hadn’t gotten very far in the book, constantly having to reread passages.
She assumed that reading the familiar tales would occupy her mind.
She should have picked philosophy, her least liked subject; at least then she would have to concentrate on the translation of some words.
Grabbing her wrapper, she entered the sitting room, searching for something else to occupy her.
Jane set the candle on a table. The glass front of the mantelpiece clock caught her attention.
She had forgotten she had a clock in her room, which said much about its fine workings that the sound of the ticking was nearly inaudible.
Half four.
Jane groaned. Three hours yet before the servants would expect her to be awake.
Opening the book again, she sighed in frustration.
She should have chosen an Anne Radcliffe novel or the third volume of Emma by the author of Pride and Prejudice she saw in the library.
Either would be more diverting. Best she find another book before she tossed this one across the room.
The library was full of books. There must be something that would distract her.
Unlike at Kellmore, going downstairs in her wrapper was not an option.
It only took her a moment in her enormous dressing room to find her front-lacing stays and favorite gray dress.
She put her hair up, as she always did, in a tight bun at the base of her neck.
The maid could fuss over her later. Remarkably, she made it to the library with only two footmen giving her the required greetings.
One insisted on following her and held the candle while she retrieved the volumes.
He lit other candles, so she stayed in the library.
There might be an advantage to dozens upon dozens of servants.
Finishing Emma was as diverting as she hoped.
Meddlesome girl. Hard to believe she was as old as Jane.
But her life was so different, yet the same.
Neither had a living mother. Both had rather selfish fathers, though in different ways.
Mr. Knightley was significantly older than Emma, making the ten-and-a-half-year age difference between her and the Duke small by comparison.
However, Emma loved Mr. Knightley. A fact that made all the difference in the world.
Gray morning light filtered into the library windows. Now, what to do?
Her maids would likely come looking for her soon.
She needed to choose one to be her abigail by the time Lady Anne returned to London so the other could return to the agency.
She liked Jane better than Francis, but the name thing was an issue.
It was odd enough having a maid all her own, but one that she called by her name, as she was called Your Grace at every turn, was dreadfully strange.
Francis had a certain roughness to her manner, both seemed equally proficient.
How was she to choose? By a name? Jane sighed and returned to her room.
The fire was built up, but neither of the maids were about.
She could ring for them, however, she had no desire to be poked and prodded and readied for another day of waiting.
Perhaps she could continue her exploration of Redbridge.
Yesterday she and Phil visited every room on the ground floor.
Other than Lady Anne’s room, she visited all the rooms in the family wing.
Jane headed to the guest wing. After skipping the room Phil and Michael shared, she proceeded to open doors.
Blue room, red room, gold room, each room had a theme.
Mostly similar in accommodations, with a narrow bed in the dressing room to accommodate any valet’s or lady’s maids visitors brought.
The room at the end of the corridor had crowns carved into the double doors.
This must be the King’s chambers. Jane paused at the door.
Did she dare to look at what the former duchess had claimed as her own?
Better now than ever, since the Duke was not here to find her snooping.
The door opened silently on well-oiled hinges.
Instead of rich furnishings, paintings, and curtains, the room was bare.
Completely bare, even the marble-tiled floor was exposed.
Light poured in the east-facing windows, devoid of coverings.
The smell of fresh paint lingered. Even the fireplace looked freshly scrubbed.
Jane continued from the first room, which she recognized as a sitting room, into a large bedroom.
The only sign of opulence left was the carvings on the walls and doors, gilded with gold.
The dressing room and bath were easily a quarter larger again than Jane’s enormous rooms. The private bathtub was large enough for two people. Jane blushed at the idea.
“What are you doing?”
Jane spun to Lady Anne’s voice.
“Oh it is you.” Lady Anne covered her heart. “I thought you were another maid sticking her nose where it did not belong. When I was duchess, the maids wore gray, and your dress is nearly the same color.”
Jane held out her skirt and examined the fabric. “Dust does not show on it as easily as on black.”
Lady Anne came further into the room. “I took my anger out on this apartment. The traditional furniture is in storage. Everything the viper purchased has been taken to auction. I couldn’t erase her memory fast enough.”
“You did not get along?”
“Not in the least. On her wedding day, she asked me to move out of the Kenworth House in Town although I lived in apartments quite set off from the rest of the dwelling. Richard, of course, stopped her.”
“I do not know how I would have survived these last few days without you. I have no intention of asking you to leave.” In fact, she hoped her new mother-in-law would stay for weeks.
“Oh my dear, I was not insinuating...” Lady Anne laughed.
“Then, when she came to Redbridge the first time, she dismissed most of the staff. Only to find she had to rehire most of them because she could not get enough qualified workers to move here from London. It caused quite a row between us. Then she wanted to change the Duke’s ball.
A tradition going back more than 75 years! ”
The Duke’s Ball. Jane would have to host that. “A tradition I will need your guidance to keep.”
“We need not worry about that today.” Lady Anne smiled. “Come, let us go to breakfast, then we can find something to read in the library. I have a new box of books that arrived from town that need to be sorted.”
Neither mentioned the Duke’s pending return as they made their way downstairs. Jane hoped that Lady Anne might live most of the year nearby. She would be welcome in the house, assuming her husband agreed. If not, the dower house was close by.
Richard directed the coachman to the stables at Redbridge rather than the front door.
As stiff as he was after his days in the carriage, he needed to walk before presenting himself to his valet to change and greet himself to the wife he so rudely left to chase after her father.
He had heard tales of the bride running off but never the groom.
Though some grooms simply did not show up at the wedding. What must his bride think of him?