Page 2 of Jillian’s Wild Heart (Ladies of Munro #4)
Munro House, one year later
J illian Kinsey flew down the stairs, her dress billowing behind her, her feet nimble and light. Her long, golden tresses streamed in a rippling wave, wild and free except for a ribbon that tied a few strands away from her face.
On the landing below, a footman carried a tray with elegant decorum, his uniform starched, its buttons shiny. Like everything else in Munro House, he was the very picture of order, a perfectly suitable element in the home of Viscount Howell and his good lady.
Jilly reined herself in, her feet slowing to something nearing an acceptable pace. She must not embarrass Ellena. It was a privilege to be a houseguest of the viscountess. But it was so hard to behave! Sedate walking. Quiet speech. How did the servants manage it all day long?
Jillian missed the freedom of Trenton Grange and its nearby village, although her friend Ellena would have scowled at such a thought.
For Ellena, the years in her childhood home had offered little latitude.
She had been raised to become a lady, every day a lesson in refinement, and her marriage to Lord Howell had been the very triumph her father, Henry Trenton, had craved.
Jillian, unbound by such expectations, had offered the master’s only child a little balance to her restrictive life, orchestrating escapes when Mrs. Trenton’s back had been turned.
She and Ellena would sneak off to the meadow, where they were not curbed by the rules of men, and could run, barefoot and breathless, or braid flowers in their hair, laughing with abandon.
For Jilly, this was the only life she had ever known.
As daughter to the Trentons’ groundskeeper and sister to three rambunctious younger brothers, her only tasks had been to help her mother in the home or keep the boys occupied while Mum had worked unhampered by their tireless presence.
It was a simple life, and she’d desired nothing more.
She had never imagined herself an honored guest in the home of the most powerful man in Munro. Nor how lonely it would make her feel.
Throughout twenty-one years, and despite the Trentons’ stout disapproval of the mismatched friendship, she and Ellena had remained loyal to each other.
And when, a twelvemonth ago, Ellena Trenton had transformed into Lady Howell, Jilly had become a frequent visitor at Munro House for weeks at a time, bringing the comfort of the familiar as Ellena adjusted to her new role.
Jilly, however, had not adjusted. The two worlds were too different. Even descending a simple flight of stairs could be a challenge. Mostly, she could manage, if she forced herself to remember what was expected in this great house.
But today, all caution had been thrown aside. Today, she needed to race to the door! Mr. Bradford was waiting. Lovely, lovely Mr. Bradford—a blessed solace in this confusing world among the gentry and nobility of the great northern city of Munro.
Jillian took another dainty step. Bother! There were too many of them between her and the foyer. Each one proceeded with painstaking self-control. And there was always another just ahead. This home was too big. And her room was on the top floor of the stately, triple-storeyed residence.
Ahead of her, the footman descended with steady grace. Jilly followed with mounting irritation.
She had negotiated two flights of stairs with some success when the sound of a humming baritone vibrated up toward her.
Her heart swelled at the unmistakable rendering of their favorite song.
Mr. Bradford would sing it to tease her if they ever had a moment alone before Ellena and her husband joined them in the drawing room. In particular, he loved the lines:
At ball or play, she flirt away, and ever giddy be;
But always said, I ne’er will wed, no one shall govern me.
“Wild thing,” he liked to call her. It was said with affection.
And some envy, perhaps. Jilly took no offense, for it was an apt description.
She was not sorry for it. As much as she admired Ellena and enjoyed the privileges of their friendship, she could never exchange spontaneity and naturalness for the stiff, staid life of society’s upper crust.
Jilly turned the corner at the last landing.
And there he was! Dear Mr. Bradford. Her toes curled with pleasure.
As always, his dark-brown hair was combed back so that nothing concealed his clean-shaven face with its perfectly straight nose and defined cheekbones.
His shapely lips, so often pressed into a thin line from his habit of fretting over things he could not control, were pouting as he hummed.
They were begging to be kissed. One day, she would throw caution to the wind and do just that.
Sixteen steps to go. But they no longer mattered, for she could see a smile spread up into the dark-blue eyes of Lewis Bradford as he caught sight of her, his humming ceasing so that he might say, “Good afternoon, Miss Kinsey. How well you look! The color of your dress suits the flush of your cheek. I wish more young women would exert themselves a little if this is the pleasant result.”
“Do you, indeed, Mr. Bradford?” Jillian remarked as the last few steps disappeared behind her.
“Is it not enough that I should catch your eye in this fashion? It seems you would have all of England emulate me. Then the little I have with which to recommend myself would no longer be a novelty, and I shall fade into the background once more.”
Mr. Bradford barked a laugh. “It is quite impossible to imagine you fading in any form or manner. You exude life, Miss Kinsey. You need nothing else to recommend you.”
A heavy tread announced the approach of the master of the house. Lord Howell, tall and broad-shouldered, stepped into the foyer from the passage that led to his study.
“You should not give Miss Kinsey false hope,” the viscount admonished his friend.
“She has had a difficult time of it, trying to find her way through all the senseless rituals that define the lives of nobility. It is bad enough that we who are born into it must endure it. To tell her it has been unnecessary because she can simply be herself would be a cruel blow after the effort she has made to accommodate us. Sadly, a woman’s enthusiasm alone can never be enough to grant her entrance into society. More’s the pity.”
“Who said I wanted to enter society?” Jillian retorted. “It has very little to recommend it, as you have said yourself on several occasions. Back home, I am every bit the nymph of the fields I have always been. And I regret not one minute of it.”
“What do you say to that, Howell?” Bradford grinned. “Come now, be honest. Would you not far rather live like Miss Kinsey, free of care and bursting with energy?”
The viscount shrugged. “I do not deny it has a certain appeal. But we do not all have that choice. Some inherit a position that is more demanding, and we accept it. Living such a life well carries fulfilment of its own.”
Bradford pursed his lips in the now-familiar show of discontent.
“Ah, now you sound like my brother. Ever complaining about the burdens of the firstborn son. And yet it is he who will receive our father’s barony and continue to enjoy the lifestyle in which he grew up.
Meanwhile, I must plead cases in court and earn my way in life, sans your privilege or Miss Kinsey’s freedom. ”
“Poor Mr. Bradford,” said Jillian, slipping her hand through his arm.
“We must amend this at once. What say you to a long walk in the sunshine? The colors of autumn are upon us and flocks of birds announce their departure overhead. Some brisk exercise and the sights and sounds of the outdoors have always lifted my spirits, and they are bound to do as much for you.”
“You cannot keep stealing Bradford away, Miss Kinsey,” said the viscount, “even if it is with a lady’s maid in tow.
We have business to discuss. And when that is done, I would enjoy the company of my good friend.
I so rarely have time to socialize with those whose company I actually enjoy.
You are not alone in finding the elite of Munro tiresome. ”
“But the evenings are chilly of late,” Jillian countered, “and the shadows lengthen earlier. Let me take Mr. Bradford on an excursion around the grounds while it is pleasant outside. Then you can be formal and serious indoors when we are done. And if Mr. Bradford stays for supper, we may all join in the conversation at the table. No one shall be denied their pleasures. This must surely be amenable to you. Is it not a worthy compromise?”
His lordship looked helplessly at his friend, causing Mr. Bradford to laugh once more.
“You know you can’t argue with such excellent reasoning, Howell.
You might as well tell Mrs. Anders right now that I am staying and to organize an extra seat at the table.
I think a spot of fresh air is exactly what I need to cleanse the palate of my mind, so to speak.
I will be better able to give you legal advice when I have tossed away the cares of the day. ”
Jillian cocked her head and pouted her lips teasingly at the viscount. “Oh, do not take it so to heart. You are master of this house in every way. I have merely suggested how you might master it.”
“It is dizzying, the speed at which you rearrange my day, Miss Kinsey,” his lordship replied. “Even my wife is not as adept at twisting me to her will.”
“But it is all for a good cause, else I would not dream of taking such liberties,” Jilly assured him.