Chapter Twenty
ARRIVING HOME LATE in the evening, Jane and her sisters exited the carriage to hammer on their front door, hoping that Mrs. Creevy or Joe would hear them.
They were a sorry sight after a long day’s travel.
A footman and Dr. Logan were grouped behind them on the pavement, ready to assist with their baggage.
They didn’t wait long. Joe chinked the door open to see who stood on the front step at such an hour, then flung it wide to admit them.
The house was not warm like Everslie Park, so there was no incentive to dally out of bed away from the heated bricks ready to warm their toes.
Leaving their portmanteaus to be unpacked the next day, the sisters prepared for bed and slid under the covers as soon as they could.
Jane stared up at the bed canopy. Her mind churned through the events of the last few days as she tried to decide her future. What was best for her siblings? Should she marry, swallow her pride and accept that decisions other than household management would no longer be hers to make?
She had missed Jonathan in her bed last night, but the suspicion that the whole affair had been a setup for political reasons made anger burn in her. At the end of a long, restless night, she was still resolved to end their engagement.
She rose at dawn and penned a formal letter requesting that their engagement be dissolved and that a notice to that effect be placed in the newspaper.
Tears trickled down her face as she folded and addressed the missive.
Drying her eyes with ruthless determination to return to normality, Jane planned the forthcoming day.
She would restart the family routine—lessons for Katherine, sewing and household tasks divided between the sisters, while she and Anna set forth dutifully on social calls.
They walked through the gray streets, devoid of snow and ice but still wet from the rain that had washed them in the night. Their first call was to Mrs. Courtice.
She looked forward to spending a talkative half hour with her old friend. The butler greeted her at the door, but barred her entry. With great sadness in his voice, he told her that the dear lady had passed away the previous day.
Stunned, Jane returned home with Anna, putting off their visiting until the next day. She then set out instead to confer with Dr. Logan. Not only had they lost a dear friend but also a valued, essential coworker in their charities. There would be much to do.
Jane joined the doctor’s waiting room queue, anxious to speak with him. At last it was her turn. His response to her news was as shocked as Jane’s had been. However, as Mrs. Courtice’s doctor, he knew much more about the elderly woman’s ill-health.
Jane agreed to take on Mrs. Courtice’s philanthropic tasks for the Welfare League as well as her own. That wasn’t enough. The League needed a benefactor to replace her. It would be almost impossible.
Wearily, Jane returned home. Emotional blows seemed to be coming thick and fast. Despair weighed her down. She told herself that the silver lining to the cloud was waiting to be found.
The next day, Mrs. Courtice’s solicitor, Mr. Pettigrew, sent an invitation for her to attend a reading of the lady’s will in his office the day after the funeral.
Jane was not completely surprised by this.
She expected Mrs. Courtice had endowed money on one or more of the charities that they jointly served.
The solicitor’s office was familiar to Jane from her previous depressing visits concerning her father’s affairs.
This time, she did not wait alone. Mrs. Courtice’s nephew, Viscount Travener, a blond and attractive dandy, waited also.
She had met him a few times over the last few years.
Jane presumed he would be the principal recipient of the lady’s estate.
They exchanged courteous greetings before the conversation lapsed.
He tapped his walking stick against his boot.
To her delight, Dr. Logan arrived also, striding briskly into the crowded room. He bowed to Viscount Travener and greeted Jane before taking a seat beside her.
Soon they were ushered into the solicitor’s office and settled into the uncomfortable chairs in front of his large, cluttered desk. Pettigrew, looking morbid, greeted them formally and stated that he would read the will and then explain how its recent codicils affected them.
Jane was curious to know how the will could affect her, except in the administration of charity funds.
She concentrated on the solicitor’s words as he began to read.
Her curiosity satisfied by the endowments that Mrs. Courtice had left their charities—enough money in trust to continue the current munificence that the lady had supplied—Jane directed a small smile at Dr. Logan and relaxed into her chair, ready to let the rest of the reading pass her by.
The majority of their friend’s estate, less gratuities for a number of people whom she wished to acknowledge, was to go to her nephew. He beamed in expectation.
The solicitor stopped to raise his gaze to his listeners and inform them that the final codicils of the will had been written a few weeks ago.
He read them. To Dr. Logan she gifted twenty thousand pounds so that he might achieve personal happiness and continue his medical services to the charity homes they had established.
To Jane, Mrs. Courtice had also left twenty thousand pounds and her father’s former house in Harley Street, recently purchased, so that she might retain her independence and continue her educational establishment and philanthropy.
Jane gripped the arms of her chair. Never had she had any expectation of benefiting from her good friend’s death! It was an enormous gift. How could she justify it?
Judging by Viscount Travener’s exclamation of annoyance and surprise, clearly he felt so too. “What is the meaning of this, Mr. Pettigrew?” he asked, outraged.
Quietly and firmly, the solicitor responded that Mrs. Courtice had called him to her about a month previously. She had been her usual brisk, efficient self, quite in command of her faculties. She had instructed him in detail about the bequests for Dr. Logan and Miss Brody.
The money was to be held in trust for Jane. The house was currently vacant and ready for her removal to it with her family at a time that suited them. The title, in her name, was in his strong room.
In his calm manner, he reminded Viscount Travener that he was the recipient of a Cavendish Square property, its contents, and more than forty thousand pounds, so he couldn’t possibly resent the gratuities that had been given.
Viscount Travener had the conscience to look sheepish at the rebuke and swallow his pride and astonishment to congratulate Jane and Dr. Logan.
The solicitor gave them more details and ushered them from the office.
Viscount Travener offered brisk farewells and set off down the street. Dr. Logan turned to Jane, offering his arm to walk with him. “Well, Jane, it seems Mrs. Courtice is still organizing her world from the grave.”
Jane gave a stunned laugh. “Bless her, it means the charities for which she worked so devotedly will be able to function indefinitely, and she has given us the freedom to choose our futures.”
He smiled in his austere way. “Yes, she was a wonderful woman and a good friend to us both.”
Jane hesitated before changing the conversation. “Dr. Logan, surely there can be no real impediment to your marriage now? Lady Elizabeth will be of age in a few months and you have more than enough money to support her in the manner in which her brother wishes her to live.”
“I have more hope now than previously. As long as Elizabeth doesn’t change her mind in that time.”
“Have confidence in her. She is not a weak person, just an occasionally unwell one. She has fortitude and constancy in her nature.”
Dr. Logan looked relieved. “You’re right. I will write to her immediately. May I ask what you have decided with regard to your future with Lord Dalton?”
“I have already written to him to end the engagement. He needs heirs and a partner in society; I need the freedom to think and help others.”
“Can you not do both?”
“I think not. And I am unsure of his sincerity now I have heard what Lord Marchmere repeated.” She summarized her sister’s report.
He looked concerned. “Do you think that Marchmere is a reliable source? I have my doubts. I would put my money on Dalton’s sincerity. If I’m wrong, he should take to the stage.”
“We shall see.” They arrived at the door of the Brody residence, and Dr. Logan took his leave to return to his practice.
Inside, Jane called her sisters together in the sitting room and revealed their good fortune. Astonished, they were unable to utter anything coherent until Katherine asked, “When can we go home, Jane?”
“Very soon. We have only a short lease on this house, in case we had to move to something less expensive again, so we may move in a couple of weeks, I suppose.”
“Let’s celebrate with a good strong cup of tea,” suggested Charlotte.
“Tea!” said Anna. “Haven’t we something stronger?”
Jane laughed. “Only medicinal brandy. It will have to be tea and cakes today. I’ll let Mrs. Creevy and Joe know the news while I’m downstairs.”
Jane left her sisters still celebrating, to write an important letter. Seated at her escritoire with a quill poised to begin, all the weight of the financial worries and responsibility for her sisters’ futures finally crumbled from her.
She was free!
Free to live her life as she chose and able to provide for her family. The invested money would provide more than enough to live upon, and her sisters could expect some of it upon their marriages as independent income.
She pulled a page of writing paper toward her from the pigeon hole and inked her pen. She must release Lord Dalton from the contract providing income for her and dowries for her sisters. It would sever the last bond between them.
Why was she hesitating? There was no reason to delay. The daydream was over.
Her throat aching with unshed tears, she steadied her hand and wrote: You may have seen the notice in the newspaper advising that our friend Mrs. Courtice passed away on Boxing Day.
Her will was read today. She has been as much a supporter of her charities in death as she was in life, endowing them generously.
She has also been overwhelmingly kind in settling a home and some money on me so that I may continue my charity work.
Consequently, your kindness in providing for my sisters and me into the future is no longer required.
I wish to convey to you my extreme gratitude for your willingness to support us even in the event that our families did not join through marriage.
Whatever else was the motive for your offer of marriage, you have been kindness itself in your treatment of me and mine.
My hope remains that Lady Elizabeth will now be permitted to find happiness with Dr. Logan.
Jane signed and folded the letter ready for mailing.
All contact with Jonathan was ended. There would be no reason to see him again except by chance meetings through her connection with Elizabeth. Why did she feel so bleak when the future looked rosy in so many ways?