4. Chapter Four
four
Chapter Four
No more harsh words were spoken between Honor and Jane, at least not openly. Lady Jane was in the children’s room before Honor arrived there, but she did nothing but cooly nod. Honor, who had not slept a wink, had a new dossier of lessons ready to begin. A war of ice and frost and carefully chosen words had begun between the two, with the children none the wiser.
Indeed, Honor would have been surprised if the children had noticed their aunt or governess was on fire. Christmas was only growing closer, and with it grew the children's hopes and dreams. Anne had dragged Honor to Stir It Up Sunday, and she and Lady Jane had stood there as firm and still as icicles as they mixed together the Christmas pudding. Both ladies listened to the chatter of Anne as she wished for presents and fun, and anything she could dream of. Only then, when Anne was so very happy, did Lady Jane smile. For all her faults, she did legitimately adore her niece and nephews. She was quite pretty when she smiled. It was almost enough to make one forget her horrid temper.
Almost.
Little Henry was too young to understand what was happening, but he loved the hustle and bustle and seemed to feed off of everyone else’s positive emotions. Honor would bounce him in her arms while Anne chattered away, coming up with plans of her own. She wished to get her shrew of an aunt a present.
"Do you suppose she'll really like it?" She asked one day. She had given her pocket money in the morning to a servant going into town, and they had returned with a beautiful doll. Evidently Anne thought her aunt would derive the same pleasure from a doll that she did. Honor had attempted to convince her that a set of new watercolors might be better for Jane, but Anne would not be convinced.
Honor swallowed her concern and nodded. "I am sure she will admire it. It is such a pretty thing." It wasn't quite a truth, and it wasn't quite a lie. Honor was finding that often was what one had to do with children.
That had made Anne smile. "Everyone needs a doll at Christmas!"
Honor could not help but smile at her charge's enthusiasm, even as she doubted her logic. "You mustn't forget to wrap it and place it in the main parlour when the time comes."
Anne's eyes lit up. "Could we wrap it today, Miss Holt?"
"It is rather early to place a present-."
"Oh, can we?" Anne was such an earnest child that it was hard for her to be denied anything. She asked for very little. Honor sighed.
"I…believe I have some wrapping paper in my room." That earned a happy squeal from Anne, which as quickly stifled when Jane entered the room. It had to be a secret, after all.
***
The days trickled on. The days grew shorter, the children's hopes grew bigger, and Honor's temper grew shorter. The war of wills between Jane and Honor continued on, with neither giving an inch. Piles of presents began to appear in the parlor, all waiting for that most glorious of days. Her feelings of anger, and of that strange second feeling, only grew. And for a long while, it seemed nothing would change, for the good or the bad.
If not for the noise, nothing would have changed. Perhaps, then, the noise was a miracle in itself. Ice can take such force, but can crack at a sound. And here, in Herecross Manor of all places, one noise changed everything.
Honor had just seen Anne off to her afternoon nap when she heard it. It was a high pitched sound, like the breaking of glass. Honor stopped on the staircase, pausing as the noise faded away into nothing. She half-expected to hear the half-stifled angry swear of a servant. But none came. Another crack, slightly smaller, came again. Honor quickly moved down the stairs.
She was prepared to see a thousand and one things. A spiteful servant, two persons engaged in an affair, the Prince Regent himself breaking things. She was not prepared for what she saw.
Jane was kneeling on the ground, fingers desperately sweeping shards of broken glass into her apron. Honor had no idea why the lady of the house would do such a chore until she saw the color of the glass. Her eyes widened and she gasped.
“Oh, oh no,” Honor murmured, horrified. It was the china doll Anne had bought Jane. She had saved all her money for weeks and weeks to buy it. And here it lay, shattered on the ground.
“What happened?” There was no judgement in Honor’s voice. As strangely as she felt about Jane, she knew that Jane loved Anne as much as a mother loved her own child. There could not be any malice in this. Jane’s harried expression told her she was right.
“I…” Jane’s voice shook. Her lower lip trembled. The woman that had been so stern and severe seemed so frightened. “The wrapping became damaged. I picked it up, I- I just wanted to fix it. I didn’t want Anne to be disappointed. It slid from my hands.”
Honor looked between Jane and the doll. Her training as a governess began to kick in. Her back straightened.
“Give it to me,” She said. Jane clutched the doll closer. “Jane, give it to me.” There was no time for etiquette. Anne had only just been put down for her nap. She could wander in at any moment.
“There’s a pot of glue in my room. Look on my desk, it should be there. It is in a brown jar. Bring it here and we can fix it. Hurry.”
Jane looked at her with those wide eyes. She had quite nice eyes. How had Honor never noticed that? Bah, there was no time for that. If Anne found out the doll had been broken before Christmas, she’d be devastated. They could make war another time. If they agreed on anything, it was the children.
Finally Jane nodded. “There’s wrapping things in my room,” She said. “I will stop and get those too.”
“Whatever you think is needed,” Honor said. “Just hurry.”
Jane rushed from the room and returned in an almost impossible frame of time. The doll, thankfully, wasn’t as ruined as Honor had suspected. But that still wasn’t very good. The arms had come completely undone, and would have to be secured with thread again. The right foot was utterly destroyed, but that could be hidden easily enough in the doll’s little shoe. The one saving grace was that this doll wasn’t to be used in play. Anne was very clear that this was Jane’s doll, and that she was to be used however Jane wanted it to be used. That meant it could stay safe on a shelf, and much of the damage would never be seen.
Jane still seemed terribly anxious. “Can you really fix it?” She asked. She handed Honor the pot of glue, and Honor realized her hands were positively shaking. “Can you really?”
“I should be able to,” Honor said. “It’ll take time, and it’ll have to set. But we can put it back within the box and fix the wrapping. I’ll tell Anne that I had to rewrap it.”
Jane’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh thank goodness.” She said. “I’ll start fixing the box.”
Jane knelt back down and grabbed the box. “I was so clumsy,” She said as she shook her head. Her blonde hair, which was usually held back so primly, hung about her shoulders. “I was so stupid.”
“What happened?” Honor asked. “I know you said the wrapping was damaged.”
“It looks like some vile little creature has been among the presents,” Jane said with a shudder. “Mice, no doubt. I hate those little pests.”
“I do too,” Honor said. What a strange thing to have in common. “I’ll ask Mrs. Purser if a cat can be found. Maybe for the children. They’d think that quite amusing.”
Jane smiled at that. It was a watery smile, but it was more sincere than any of Jane’s other expressions Honor had seen. That strange tense, fluttery feeling moved in Honor’s stomach. Jane quickly looked back down.
They two resumed their work in an awkward silence. Honor’s head bent over the broken doll, and Jane’s head bent over the box. The one thing Honor could say in Jane’s favor was that she was an efficient worker. The box was unwrapped and then rewrapped in mere minutes. Honor would have to think of some story to explain the change away. Perhaps she’d make up a story about a mice kingdom. That would amuse Anne.
They continued on until Jane quietly sighed.
“I am sorry, Honor.”
This voice was not the tone of cold command that Jane Linton had before. This was not the voice Honor was used to. This was a quiet and unsure voice that was as hesitant as anything. Honor glanced up and saw Jane’s eyes downcast to the floor.
“I am sorry. I have been terribly rude to you,” Jane continued. “You must think me such a shrew.”
Honor had no reply to that. Or, at least, no reply that didn’t confirm Jane’s fears. Jane knew it too, and she smiled at that. It was an awkward and unsure smile, and Honor thought it suited her far more than her usual sneer.
“It’s alright. I am a shrew. I’m a shrew of a spinster, but not when it comes to the children. Anne and Henry are the closest to my own children I will ever have, and they’re as dear to me as my own flesh and blood would be. I’ve raised them since they were small. Even before Lady Linton died, she had no interest in the day to day care of the children. I did. Perhaps it’s unfitting of my station, but those children came into the world and I felt a connection.”
Her hands ran over the box. “When Lady Linton died, and my brother went away, he wanted a governess placed. Before Lady Linton died, I was essentially the governess. She was a terribly jealous woman, and that suited her just fine. There would be no other woman to compete for my brother’s affection.”
“She sounds like she wasn’t the sweetest of people.” Honor said.
Jane paused for a moment. It seemed like she was burdened with something terribly sad. “It isn’t right to speak ill of the dead,” Jane said with an air of finality. “And she is still the children’s mother. But when she passed, I became de facto lady of the household. A Lady Linton must keep up appearances, after all, even during war. Especially during war. I couldn’t devote as much time to the children’s care as I had.”
Things began to make sense. “A governess was asked for.”
Jane smiled a bit sadly. “I was open to it until the first one arrived. If you think I’m nasty, you should have seen her. She was a battleaxe to end all battleaxes. I’ve never met a more unpleasant woman.”
Now that she had begun to speak, it was as if Jane could not be stopped. Months, if not years, of information flowed out of her like a river.
“She rather disliked me, and I rather disliked her.” She said. "She was cruel to the children, all in the air of being kind. She was told to make a little lord out of my nephew, and she was dedicated to it. It was awful. She'd just let him cry. I couldn't stand it. I had her fired and sent off within a fortnight. My brother was quite unhappy, but let him be unhappy. He didn't have to live with it."
Honor smoothed out the skirt of the doll while Jane spoke. It was strange to listen so intently to the words of a woman she didn't like, but it seemed as if Jane had waited a long time to unburden herself. It would be polite to listen, and nothing else. It certainly wasn't because Jane seemed so…vulnerable here. So human. She was no longer a Linton of Herecross Manor. She was simply a woman in need of a moment to speak. It was as if the breaking of the doll had broken something between her, between them.
…No, it wasn't like that at all. This was mere propriety. Nothing more.
They lapsed into a comfortable/uncomfortable silence for the next few moments. A storm was gathering outside, one of those quick-coming Northern storms this part of England was so known for. Jane stared at the presents while Honor tried not to stare at jane. After about twenty minutes, Jane looked back over at the doll, and let out a gasp of surprise. "You actually did it?" She said. The glue had fused enough by that point. The doll was perfect, provided it wasn't jostled about.
Honor smiled. She actually felt quite proud. "It is. Make a care not to throw it about, and it should stay that way until kingdom come. Anne will never be the wiser."
Jane rose from the floor with trembling hands. She pressed her hand to her mouth to hide her smile, but her happiness couldn't be ignore. She suddenly moved forward, hands outstretched. Honor thought she meant to take the doll, but she pushed it aside to embrace Honor. She pulled her into her grip, her pale arms encircling Honor's shoulders like a wedding band. Honor was too surprised to yelp.
As soon as the hug began, it ended. Jane broke away, her cheeks burning red. "I- apologize," She began. "I- lost control of myself. I- forgive me, I-."
The thunder sounded again outside. Honor was suddenly aware of how very close she was to Jane Linton. In the motion of the hug, they'd moved closer to the wall. Jane was almost pressing her against the bookshelf, Jane’s face inches from her own. Honor could see her chest rising and fall with each breath. She desperately tried not to think of the way her face burned a beautiful red, or the way her bosom strained against her dress with each inhale of air. But the more she breathed, the more Honor felt breathless.
Jane hesitated for only an instant before kissing her.
Jane Lindon, Lady of the house of Linton, proper and respectable in every way, knew how to kiss like a sinner.