Red Jack's Daughter (9 page)

Then nodding toward her, he placed his long fingers upo
n
the keys and began to play. Her smile slid off into nothingness. The music that issued forth filled the room. It was exquisite—by turns, tentative, then tender, then strangely stirring, almost angry, and then at last tapering off into a
hushed oblique regret. At least Jessica felt regret when the room was still once more. She had no idea of how long he had played, she had been so intent upon the music. Only when he had stopped did she wonder at his mastery. But now he rose and executed the mock curtsy that she had expected in the
first instance. Now, however, she did not smile at his clowning.

“Wasn’t it ladylike enough for you?” he asked, noting
her stillness.

“
I’m sorry,” she stammered, “I didn’t know. That is toy say, Red Jack had no use for such things as music. No, that’s not true, he often said there was no sound more valiant than that of bagpipes. But I thought—Oh, dash it all, Alex, I never heard such sounds. And it wasn’t ladylike in the least.
Why, I should give all my father’s fortune if I could create such music,” she said honestly.

“But what would be amiss with it if it were ladylike, Jessica?” he asked, returning to her side. “For I played a somber composition by the German Herr Van Beethoven, but had I played a light one by Haydn or Mozart, I suppose one might say it sounded delicate and fragile a
n
d mannered. Is
t
hat what you mean by ladylike? For if it is, then where’s the harm? Would playing such music make me less the man? And why should manly be so much superior to ladylike?”

Jessica rose and paced a step or two, then wheeled about and faced him. “I haven’t said it correctly,” she began, her color rising as she mounted her favorite hobbyhorse and rode off in conversation in much the same way as she had galloped across the meadow earlier. “In music, there’s no harm. But in life, why, yes, there is. Just think of this morning, my Lord. Why you could have ridden across the park for hours by yourself, but I could not have. And you could have done without a groom as well. And you can take yourself off this afternoon and do whatever pleases you, from riding, to visiting, to gaming. While I, if I am to be ladylike, must sit and sketch or sew and read.”

“But, Jessica,” he interrupted, “you could visit, or ride, or even game, if you so wished.”

“Not without an escort,” she said, plunging ahead. “And just think of the advantages you have grown used to, without even considering them as such. Do you have to lay cucumber slices upon your eyes to make them bright?
”

She was glowering at him now, and he was so taken aback by what she said that it took a moment for him to begin to laugh.

“Seldom, I grant you,” he said, sobering at the fierce look in her eye. “But you don’t have to, surely, do you?”

“No,” she said with satisfaction. “For when I told Nellie I wouldn’t, Lady Grantham did not press me further. But all I am supposed to concern myself with is my face and my hair and my form. Nellie suggests barley water, lemon juices, and milk baths. I vow, my Lord, sometimes I believe that to be a lady is to be prepared for dinner. Yes, laugh,” she said bitterly, “but you do not have to undergo such torments daily.”

“No, no,” he managed to put in while attempting to
regain his equilibrium.
“
But, my dear, I cannot slip into company as easily as a raw egg, either. Just think, Jessica,” he said, aping her affect as he rose to face her, “do you have to shave daily, or have your hair snipped so frequently as to feel I like an overgrown garden weed? You see that last I refuse as vigorously as you shun cucumbers. And do you have to worry about whether you have a shapely leg? Not at all, for as a female you’ve always got them covered up nicely enough, while a gentleman’s limbs are much remarked upon and always on view.”

“There’s that,” Jessica said consideringly, “for Father used to tell me that in his day a spindly gentleman often had to pad out his leg with sawdust. But surely you don’t concern yourself about that, do you?” she asked with disbelief.

“Not at all.” He smiled. “I was merely trying to show you that attention to personal appearances is not solely the province of females.”

“You don’t understand,” she said angrily, “or
you do and you are just playing with me. I have no freedom. None. I am my father’s only child, yet I had to stand and watch a stranger come to take over my home and lands when he died. But had I been bo
rn
a male, I should even now be master of Oak Hill.”

Lord Leith sobered quickly. He placed his hands upon her shoulders and looked into her glistening eyes.

“No. That, I agree, is too bad,” he said, knowing, perhaps for the first time, that it was.

“But that is in order to carry on the family name,” he began to explain.

She dashed away in incipient tear and broke in, “I know, I understand, but my life is ringed around with such. You have the freedom of all of London, but I cannot even go out and consult with my solicitor, who is an ancient fellow, without an escort. Do they think me such a wanton, abandoned creature that I cannot be trusted with a male, even decades older than myself?”

“No, no, Jessica,” he said, looking down at her. “There’s right in what you say, but you have it the wrong way around.
It is you that could be endangered, not he.”

“I should not be endangered,” she said stubbornly, resisting now the tenderness she saw in his gray eyes.

“But you are beautiful, Jessica,” he said softly, “and as such, you would be at risk.
”

“Bah, beauty,” she said, raging again, her eyes sparkling and her chin high. “That is no excuse and no danger.”

He made no reply this time, but only placed one large hand
be
side her face and buried the other hand in her bright hair on the other side. Then he lowered his head and, holding her lightly, kissed her gently. Her lips were warm and yielding, and soon what was meant to be sweet consolation became a great deal more. She did not pull away, and it was he who finally drew his mouth away from hers, slightly shaken by what he had discovered there.

She stood still for a moment, with her eyes closed, quite silently. He searched for words of apology, since she did not stir, and his hands dropped to his sides. But before he could draw breath, her eyes snapped open and she stepped back a pace and spoke in an unsteady voice.

“There,” she said in a broken whisper. “You see? A gentleman can do that, but a female cannot so impose upon—”

“No,” he said gravely. “No, Jessica, a gentleman cannot. And I apologize for overstepping the bounds. Please forgive me, but perhaps now you understand what I meant about the danger of beauty. And it is unfair, yes, that your freedoms should be decided by the limits of your physical strength.”

“I understand the lesson,” she said, turning her head away from him, “and why you gave it. But not why the chance that I might leave myself open for insult should so restrict my life.”

“It was no insult,” he said, but she raced on, overriding him, “Or why a mere happenstance of birth should allow you to live so free while I am so pent up.”

“Jessica,” Lord Leith spoke with carefully controlled anger, turning her to face him, “I don’t know what conditions prevail in Yorkshire, but even here in London, we know that mere happenstance of birth means primarily that I cannot give birth. It is because you can that you are so protected.”

She stared at him as though he had slapped her, while he was startled at himself for what he had said. Even though he
knew that there was no other answer he could have given her
,
he could have phrased it differently, put it better, he realized suddenly.

“And that, of course, puts me in my place firmly,” she said bitterly, and then lapsed into silence, although her eyes hinted at all that was hovering on her tongue.

Good heavens, what could she have said now? Lady Grantham thought as she came through the door to see her guest and her nephew standing silently staring at each other. But she was nothing if not socially adept, and so she only asked them if they were to lunch with her. And was not at a
l
l surprised at either refusal.

The man behind the huge desk looked up with satisfaction as his visitor entered the dim-lit room. Then, without prea
mble
, he said abruptly,
“
Took you long enough to come around to see me.”

The fair-haired young man did not seem to be discomposed. Even though he had no invitation, he sat down in an available chair, inclined his head for courtesy to the massive woman who sat silently beside the desk, and then addressed himself to the man who had first spoken.

“I had other matters to see to, Mr. Cribb. I’m not at leisure to come and go as I please. I have a position to fulfill.
”

“And it pays you enough to put into a flea’s ear. That’s why I summoned you,” Mr. Cribb replied.

“You have
a
position to offer me?” the younger man asked with a fair amount of disbelief tinging his voice. “I was not aware you needed help in running Oak Hill. Is it such a prosperous holding now? I am surprised, between Jess and Red Jack, and I thought the place had been run into the ground.”

“Don’t come over clever with me,” the older man said, motioning his visitor to remain seated. “I’ve not called you here to exchange compliments. I’ve a job for you, one that will pay well. Of course, if you’re rolling in clover, be gone. For what I say won’t interest you.
”

Since the younger man settled back in his seat again, Mr. Cribb nodded knowingly.

“Thought not. Good family, but no prospects. I may not
b
e the most-well-liked fellow in the district, but you won’t find a more knowing one, eh, Tilda?”

At the enormous woman’s laughter, he went on, “And I’ve blunt. Plenty of it, don’t let that worry you. It’s true Oak Hill ain’t a patch on your lordly employer’s place, but I've plenty of silver put aside. I didn’t cut such a fine figure in a uniform as my dear cousin did, but I worked hard and dealt sharp all my life, so I’m no pauper. But more’s better, eh? That’s always been my motto, why just look at Tilda here.” The young gentleman tried not to, and tapped his foot impatiently.

“Right, lad,” the older man said approvingly. “All business, down to tacks, then. You’re a gentleman bo
rn
, Thomas Preston, but your trouble is that there was three gentlemen bo
rn
before you. You’ve no expectations. I know it.”

“I don’t deny it,” the fair-haired young man replied.

“Couldn’t,” Mr. Cribb said bluntly, and then he opened a drawer and withdrew a leather purse. He flung it upon the desktop, where it landed with a thud.

“There’s coin in there, Tom Preston; not enough to set you up for life, but enough to pay for six months of your wages. And if you do a simple task for me, you’ll get another such purse. And if the task is completed to my satisfaction, yet another. A fair wage, eh, lad?”

“Fair enough,” was the cool, noncommittal answer. “Who do you want me to murder?”

The older gentleman allowed himself to be consumed with mirth. The enormous woman rocked with laughter. But a moment later the room was still again.

“No. I’m not such a fool,” Mr. Cribb said, all traces of laughter gone. “You know my dear
little
cousin, Jess, don’t you?”

“Your ward, yes,” the young man answered, still coldly.

“Not my ward anymore, there’s the point.” The older man became agitated enough to half-rise from his seat. “For I’ve a document from a fine London lawyer says that Red Jack left his daughter to the guardianship of his dear old friend Sir Selby. That’s naught,” he said, sinking down, as though speaking to himself. “I can get my man of law on that, if need be. But I said to Tilda, ‘What’s this?’ First she’s off to collect some fortune her dear pa’s left her, and then I get
such a letter. Something’s in the wind. I can smell money, Tom Preston, and such doings tell me, mad as it sounds, that Red Jack left more than this old house and debts. Something fine someone’s trying to diddle poor old Cribb out of. There’s where you come in, lad. I want you to go to London and sniff it out. I’ve eyes. The girl’s half-boy, but the half that’s female notices Tom Preston, don’t it?”

T
he young man did not bother to deny this. He only sat, his head half-inclined, listening.

“So you are the lad to discover all. I want you to go to London, she’ll greet you warmly enough,” the older man said as his wife chuckled, “and discover what’s toward. There’s your first purse. If she’s coming into something, I want you to tell me, and there’s your second purse. If it’s a fortune, there’s your third purse. What do you say?”

“I say,” said the lean young man, rising swiftly, “that if Jess is to inherit something, it is about time. And as I knew Red Jack and called him friend, I won’t spy on poor Jess for you. Good day, Mr. Cribb.”

“Fine talk,” his host called after him, “but you’ll be back, I’ll only give you till tomorrow, and then I’ll find another way. So it makes no difference to me. But you’ll be back, for you’re a likely lad.”