Claiming The Chaperon's Heart. Anne Herries. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Anne Herries
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon Historical
Жанр произведения: Исторические любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474042451
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said, shaking her head. ‘This was my room as a girl, but now I have a permanent suite of three rooms at the other side of the house. At least, it has been mine since...for a while now. Of course, when my brother marries I shall take a house of my own. I am thinking of making my home in Bath.’

      ‘You will not desert the viscount?’ Melia cried involuntarily. ‘I know he is so fond of you, relies on you for advice in almost everything.’

      ‘He will turn to the lady he marries once he becomes a devoted husband and I should not wish to interfere with her way of running the household.’

      ‘Oh, but perhaps she would rather leave it to you.’ Melia’s face was an open book. Jane held back her smile because it was obvious that the young woman had no interest in the duties of a chatelaine, but thought only of the amusement of being a bride and being spoiled by a devoted husband. ‘If his wife is young and knows little of household management. I hate dealing with servants; they are always so superior if they think you don’t know—don’t you find?’

      Jane’s merriment left her and she answered seriously. ‘It is important that one does know what one wants. The first rule is to make your people respect you. It is good if they also like you—but a calm, firm manner when giving instructions is always best. You must have observed it in your aunt’s house.’

      ‘Oh, no,’ Melia said ingenuously. ‘Aunt is so lazy. Her butler rules the household and arranges everything as she likes it. He has been with her since she was a girl and treats her as if he were a benevolent uncle. She never seems to give orders. Benson just does everything without needing to be told.’

      ‘How fortunate is Mrs Bellingham to have such a devoted man in her service.’

      ‘She is always complaining about things, but never to Benson, of course. She might have everything as she likes if she stirred herself, but she can never be bothered and just leaves it all to him—and then she grumbles if the meals are not quite what she wanted.’

      ‘Well, at least you know how not to conduct your household,’ Jane said, amused by this description of the indolent Mrs Bellingham. ‘Now, my dear, I want you to settle in first and come down when you are ready. I shall order some tea in half an hour in my sitting room downstairs, but you may have a tray brought up if you wish to rest.’

      ‘I am not in the least tired,’ Melia declared. ‘I shall come down and join you... Do you mean that very pleasant sunny room at the back of the house?’

      ‘Yes, it was Mama’s until she remarried,’ Jane said. ‘Now, of course, she has a dozen pretty rooms she may choose from, and if she wants anything different she has only to ask Porky.’

      ‘Is that what you call the duke?’ Melia’s eyes sparkled with mischief as Jane nodded and laughed. ‘Oh, it does suit him—but it is a terrible thing to call such a lovely man. He was so kind to me when I attended the wedding as one of your mama’s bridesmaids—and he gave me a beautiful gold bracelet as a gift.’

      ‘Roshithe is a lovely man, and so kind to us all,’ Jane said. ‘I assure you, the name was given him years ago and stuck. He does not regard it, because he knows it is used with affection. His enemies are more likely to call him Roshithe in a supercilious manner, and that he does resent—though you should probably address him as sir, unless he gives you permission to use the name.’

      ‘I would not dare. I shall probably address him as Your Grace...’

      ‘He cannot abide that sort of toad-eating, as he calls it, Miss Bellingham. Much better just to use the simple sir.’

      ‘I’ll try to remember,’ Melia promised and gave Jane a small shy smile. ‘Will you not call me Melia?’

      ‘Yes, of course, if you wish it—and you must reciprocate. I am Jane to my family and friends.’

      ‘Yes, I know. Viscount Salisbury always speaks of you that way. He is very fond of you, Jane.’

      ‘We have always been close,’ Jane said. ‘I shall leave you to change if you wish.’

      She left the bedchamber, which was indeed the prettiest in the house, its curtains pink and white striped silk, which matched the décor of pinks, cream and a deep crimson. Jane had ordered some pink roses to be placed on the dressing stand to complete the welcome offered to a lady who might, if she chose, become the next mistress here.

      It would mean a big change in Jane’s life, she thought as she made her way down to the sitting room she favoured. She would miss playing hostess for her brother and it would be an upheaval making the move to Bath, but she intended to make way for her brother’s wife, despite Melia’s hints that she would be welcome to stay on to run the house for her. No, that would eventually lead to resentment and perhaps unkind words between them; Melia might need help at first but once she found her own confidence she would not wish for another woman in her home.

      Jane had already begun to make inquiries about a house in Bath. She was unsure whether she wished to rent a place while she looked about her or buy something immediately. If she bought she would need to furnish it, and she intended to look for suitable items while she was in town this time. Even if her brother Will was not successful in securing his bride immediately, it would happen, and Jane had no wish to live in the country house left to her by her husband.

      ‘It’s a bit dull and quite lonely,’ Harry had told her the day he took her to see his small country house. ‘I know we can make it nice, Jane—and with servants and children it will soon become a home. I dare say we’ll make friends soon enough. There’s plenty of time before we have to retire to a country life, because I want to rise in the Army. We can live in London when we’re home on leave—and in time you will find a way to make this place into a home.’

      Jane had assured him gaily that she would enjoy it, but that future had seemed so far away as not to be of much interest. Before they settled down to living off the land, they had so much fun to have—travelling overseas, putting up at the most frightful billets had all seemed amusing to the young couple in love. Her friends were Harry’s friends, the ladies she met officers’ wives, all living their nomad existence with a smile on their faces and secret fear in their hearts. Yet, even so, Jane had not thought it could all end so abruptly. She’d thought of her life as being married to Harry for years and years, but in fact she’d had only a year of happiness.

      She would not think of that! Jane told herself severely that she must begin to look to the future. She had already written to her cousin. Sarah’s reply had not arrived before they left for London, but Will’s servants would send on any letters and, if Sarah wished, Jane would invite her to join them in town.

      She would make a few inquiries about whom to consult on the matter of furnishing a house, but perhaps it might be better to hire a furnished house for a start, though Jane had some of her personal things at her brother’s country house. She had intended to set up her own home long ago but living in Will’s home had proved so pleasant for them both that she’d let her own plans drift.

      ‘It is lovely to have you here again, ma’am,’ Mrs Yates, Will’s London housekeeper, came up to her as she reached the hall. ‘There are quite a few letters waiting for you in the parlour, Lady March. I dare say your ladyship’s friends knew of your intention and most of them look like invitations.’

      ‘Yes, I dare say,’ Jane replied with a faint twist of her lips. ‘Mama knew we were coming, of course, and I imagine she has informed most of her friends—and that includes everyone who gives decent parties...’

      Jane laughed softly as she saw an answering gleam in the housekeeper’s eyes, because Mama was well known in this house. She picked up the large pile of letters and cards awaiting her and flicked through them. Three were in her mother’s hand, each of them speaking of some party she really must attend or an exhibition she must see. Her mother intended to visit her the day after she arrived and she was to come to dinner that evening and bring the delightful young woman she’d invited as her guest.

      Laying aside her mother’s letters, Jane opened some of the others. Most, as