Page 21 of Jaxon (Gentlemen of War #4)

Jaxon

With furrowed brows, I stood staring at the empty corridor where Miss Amelia had recently disappeared from. Why was she so quick to shield herself? I know I did not give her the proper welcome a lady of the ton deserved, but these were unusual circumstances, and for heaven’s sake, I did not plan on entertaining at all while I was in residence.

I stuffed the chain back inside my pocket and stepped inside Mr. Duncan’s room again. Other than the few cuts and bruises on his face and his hands, he appeared as though he only slept. I leaned my ear near his mouth and heard his steady breaths, watching as his chest rose and fell. I was grateful he lived. I knew Mrs. Gentry was a miracle worker with her herbal tinctures, but I could only hope that this would not be his permanent state and that he might fully recover over time.

I sat on the chair beside the bed that Miss Amelia had just vacated. If Mr. Duncan awakes, he surely cannot be moved for days, possibly even weeks depending on the severity of his unseen wounds. This man needed to see a doctor. But, like the rest of us, he is bound to the premises until the weather cooperates and a bridge can be constructed. Then, as if on cue, thunder roared outside, lightning flashed, and the gentle patter of rain had graduated to a deluge against the windowpane. It would be another restless night.

Back in my bedchamber, I laid the delicate necklace on my desk and changed into more of my uncle’s altered clothing. They were simple, comfortable, and I did not need Jesse’s help to dress or undress. Though a part of me missed the feel of fine fabrics against my skin, there was a sense of satisfaction that one achieves in a laborer’s attire.

Regardless of whether I wore a fine silk cravat and sharply cut tailcoat, or a cotton button-up shirt with buckskin trousers, neither one helped me fix the bridge quandary we were in, and it continued to weigh heavily on my mind. One thing was assured, however, the moment the rain abates, all hands will be needed to complete the repairs as soon as possible and send the lady and her staff on their merry way.

Though fully dressed, I did not quite feel content. Uncle Jack had one small hand mirror in his chamber and when I lifted it up to inspect the state of my appearance, I nearly dropped the thing. I didn’t need a reflection to know of the scruff on my chin, but I had always worn my hair relatively short and trimmed properly. These unruly locks were an abomination, truly, and I laughed to myself as I ran my fingers through them, realizing that, for once, I appeared more like Hunter than I did Lucas.

Replacing the mirror to Uncle Jack’s simple shelf, I returned to the desk and examined the beautiful gold necklace once more. It had only lost a part of its luster from the ordeal, but the fine etchings of what appeared to be a pair of Greek goddess silhouettes remained. The precision of the handiwork surely identified its origin to superior jewelers on Bond Street. I recognized such style from a brooch my mother often wore.

Giving in, I cracked it open. Sure enough, the miniature was fairly damaged but, from what little I could see, it was the image of a man but certainly not old enough to be a father. I knew it. It’s her betrothed. I snapped it shut.

When Mrs. Gentry informed us dinner was ready, Miss Amelia arrived in the same maid’s dress as before. Now I knew something was wrong, for it made no logical sense to me why she would choose to remain in these ill-fitting threads. If she had alternatives, she was just the type of person to seek them out. This only increased my curiosity. That, and the way her wild strands were now skillfully twisted and shaped into a handsome, fashionable style that certainly did not match her attire in the least, yet, somehow, the divergence of the two made her appear all the more attractive.

Deuces. I mumbled to myself, forcing any thought of this woman’s lure from my head.

When all were seated, I regarded the room and its occupants. It was a bit peculiar to be dining as one. Though I had required such casualness amongst the staff when we arrived, I wanted to laugh at our situation. I sat between my two footmen, Diggs and O’Keefe. Ennis occupied the seat to the right of O’Keefe, followed by Jesse, Mr. Gentry, Daisy, then Miss Amelia. The two empty chairs beside her were reserved for Mrs. Gentry and Anna once they had finished serving. Cook preferred to eat in the kitchen, probably taking bites between roasting and preparation.

We ate in silence. The only sounds that arose were the clink of our utensils alongside our plates and the splattering rhythm of steady rain against the windows. The unfamiliar discomfort drove me to near madness.

“Very well,” I spoke up. “I recognize that we are all practically strangers, but we may be stranded here together for a fortnight or more.” I ignored Miss Amelia’s gasp. “Tell me something about yourselves.” I waved a hand in no general direction to encourage conversation. Though I knew bits and pieces about my staff, it was our newest occupants I hoped to learn more about.

Nobody spoke.

I had never engaged in a completely silent meal before, now realizing how much I detested it.

Diggs wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I have a twin brother named Angus, but he also goes by the surname of Diggs with his mates, so it makes our time together quite lively.”

I smiled in his direction. I did not know he was a twin. It made me think of Hunter.

O’Keefe set his fork down. “I spent my childhood summers in Newcastle at my uncle’s estate. I have fond memories of my time there.”

Newcastle… estate?

In between ladling soup into bowls, Mrs. Gentry spoke next. “Mr. Gentry and I have two children. Our daughter serves as a governess in Lord Fitch’s household in Watford and our son is learning the trade of animal husbandry in Southampton.”

I knew they had adult children but did not know the details. Why had I not asked them before? What kind of lord am I? “Come, Mrs. Gentry, sit down and eat with us,” I insisted. She smiled and finished by filling her bowl and joining us.

Jesse spoke next of his skill in archery, including competing in a few amateur tournaments. This I knew, for he often triumphed over me.

The subsequent silence was broken with Miss Amelia’s tremulous voice. “Um…” A hint of strength bled through. “I love to visit the museums in London.”

I stared. Museums? “Like the menagerie?” I asked, knowing ladies of the ton found a bit of excitement seeing a tiger or monkey on display.

“No, well, yes. I have seen that one, but my favorite is the British Museum.”

I continued to gape most ungentlemanly and she anxiously picked up her glass of wine and took slow measured sips, looking everywhere but in my direction. She loves the British Museum? Most women of standing would find its displays grim or tiresome.

“It must be the Elgin marbles,” I said without thinking. “Every woman loves to see the Greek Gods in their brawny natural state.”

Her eyes flashed directly to me now and hardened. “Have you seen them?” she said between tight lips.

I cringed. I must be more careful with what I reveal. “I have heard of them. Even in the woods one might be hard pressed to read a newsprint or periodical.”

“Well, if you must know,” she continued with a slight air of offense, “It’s the Rosetta Stone that captures my fancy.”

“The Egyptian hieroglyph—” I stopped myself and took a long draught of my sherry. I did not look in her direction but sensed her stare upon me. I needed a diversion. “And what about you, Daisy? Tell us something about you.”

Daisy choked on her food, then quickly wiped her mouth. You could see how uncomfortable she was with the informality of this arrangement.

“I, uh, I don’t know what to say,” she squeaked out.

“Daisy has the voice of a canary,” Ennis spoke up as Daisy’s face grew crimson. She quickly lowered her eyes to her plate.

I shook my head. “Well, while we don’t have a pianoforte here at the lodge, Mr. Gentry is quite nimble with a violin. I’m certain there is something the two of you could collaborate on and we might just have some music one night.”

Though I wanted to continue the conversation and unravel the ambiguous Miss Amelia, I feared I had not anticipated revealing more of myself in the process, and it was a risk I could not continue to take. After Ennis shared his love for the harmonica, Anna confessed to her interest in sketching.

“Your turn Mr. Jack,” Miss Amelia declared with unmistaken precision. Her inquisitiveness evident in the arch of her brow.

“Me?”

She nodded.

“Oh, I assure you I am quite dull,” I retorted.

“How so?”

“I am completely content by the fire with a book in my hands.”

She blinked those long eyelashes in rapid succession and, despite the wounds on her face, there was an elegance to her complexion that would easily draw a man’s eye. “What subjects are to your liking?” she prodded.

Again, I needed to be careful.

“Many topics, though I’m certain speaking of them would only tire you.” I turned to Mrs. Gentry as she finished off the last bite of her soup. “I heard Cook mention she had made a berry trifle for dessert.”

“Oh, yes, indeed.” She stood up and clasped her hands. “It is one of her finest delicacies. You are all in for a treat.”

I grinned at her exuberance but caught Miss Amelia’s continued gaze in my direction. The look—a mixture of wonderment and confusion—caught me by surprise. I nodded in her direction and rose to my feet. “Forgive me for my early departure.” I glanced around the table. “I must see to the horses.”

“Mr. Jack.” Mr. Gentry flew to his feet, quite deftly for a man of his age. “Allow me.”

“Oh, please enjoy the rest of the evening. I can manage it on my own.” I retrieved my coat and hat from the hooks near the front door and, even though the rain fell in sheets now, my escape was more about my need to put some distance between me and one particularly intriguing woman.

Later that night, I tasked Mrs. Gentry with finding out why Miss Amelia had not yet changed her attire. When she found me in my study, her expression revealed bewilderment. “Oh, Lord Jaxon… pardon me, Mr. Jack.” She chuckled. I was grateful she had not slipped over the title in front of the others. There were many reasons I did not wish for Miss Amelia to know I was a member of the peerage, but the most pressing was that her temperament should not change simply because I have a title. “The clothing you gathered this morning is all that she has. Her maid is washing and mending the few dresses, but the restoration will take time.”

“What of the trunk Diggs fished from the river and hauled back to the house? Was it not hers?”

“It was filled with books!” she exclaimed with a burst of incredulity.

“Books?” I replied. “The entire trunk?”

“Well, her maid was most reluctant to disclose the details, but she did let slip that amongst the books were some of her mistress’s writings.”

I rubbed my chin. “Writings? Could she be an authoress?” I shook my head in disbelief. “No. No lady of the beau monde would dare enter such a trade. Her reputation and that of her family’s would suffer terribly.”

“Anything else, sir?”

“Do we have enough supplies to last us several weeks, or however long it might be before we get to the village again?”

“Yes, sir. We have a fully stocked pantry and cellar.” She paused and exhaled.

“Speak frankly,” I encouraged.

“My only worry is if Mr. Duncan takes a turn for the worse or does not wake. While we have necessary medical supplies for common ailments, my healing knowledge does have its limits.”

“You are caring for him adequately, Mrs. Gentry. I feel confident that he will awake any moment.” I sighed. “And be assured, every break in the rain, we will be out there rebuilding a bridge.”

“I know, I do not doubt your determination sir, I only fear our guests might grow antsy.” She smiled. “Now I must seek ways to make them comfortable for the time being.”

“What other options do we have for Miss Amelia’s attire straightaway?” I asked.

Mrs. Gentry held up her hands. “She certainly would not fit into mine.” She laughed. “I’m twice her size and a head too short.”

“We must come up with a solution without making her feel uncomfortable. I tried to speak of it today and her cheeks flushed as red as a tomato.”

“Well, certainly, they would, sir.” Mrs. Gentry laughed heartily. “You are a young, handsome man asking her about her clothing.” She tsked and shook her finger at me. “And are a bit brisk, might I add. If you continue to behave this way, you might forget your manners altogether.”

I laughed. “Is that so terrible?”

“Yes, indeed so, and Hunter would have me discharged for not preventing it. We may be stranded here all together, but we can be civil. You’re the son of a duke, and while you are not living the means of such at the moment, you have been raised better.”

“I’m trying, Mrs. Gentry, she seems quite cross with me.”

“Trying, sir?”

I laughed out loud. The woman could spot a fib a hectare away.

Fisting her hands on her round hips, she retorted, “Imagine what she is going through, my lord. Her carriage is torn to pieces, her driver injured, the bridge washed out, her belongings missing or destroyed. Then she must take refuge in the home of a strange man who has not, mind you, been altogether genteel, with absolutely no recourse.” She now shook a pointed finger in my direction. “I would be cranky, too.”

Her rebuke silenced me. I rubbed the back of my neck. “Have I been that dreadful?”

She scrunched her nose at me.

“Fine,” I conceded, closing my book. “I will try harder.” Despite Miss Amelia’s haughtiness, I had no excuse to treat our guests poorly.

“Wonderful. You make sure you are mindful of the manner in which you speak to her,” she replied. “And I will see to her clothing, if she is amenable.”

I smiled at the dear woman’s orders. I could not navigate this unknown world without her.

The next morning, Lady Amelia came to breakfast in a different dress. While it was not up to the standard I am sure she was accustomed to, the lavender morning dress fit her form much better. Not that I noticed how it molded to her figure…

“How did you sleep, Mr. Jack?” she asked after she retrieved a plate of breakfast foods and sat down beside me at the table.

I smiled at her attempt to converse and remembered Mrs. Gentry’s admonition. I could be kind. I had been taught proper manners from the moment I shed my leading strings.

“Very well, and you, Miss Amelia?”

“Much better.” She slathered some jam on a biscuit. “Thank you for the plate of fairy cakes last night. They are just like the ones my cook makes at home.”

“Me?” I pointed my fork toward my chest. “I don’t know what you are referring to.”

Her nose wrinkled in a way that emphasized the few freckles found there and she laughed, which was the first time I had heard such a pleasant sound. So, the lady can laugh. Well now, I thought to myself. I just might be challenged to induce that response as often as possible.

“Mrs. Gentry brought up a plate of fairy cakes for Daisy and me. She said it was at your request.”

I smiled. That mischievous old woman. Either she will rescue me or be the death of me. And I was certainly unsure which one.