Page 28 of Jillian’s Wild Heart (Ladies of Munro #4)

This time, however, there was no devastating visit from a constable, and they were able to proceed to the main course.

Jillian watched the smooth transition of plates and cutlery, observed the butler cut the roast ham.

She had experienced such procedure in the home of the viscount and viscountess but had never paid it much attention.

At Munro House, there was always lively conversation, which made the subtler details of the dinner almost invisible.

Now, however, Jillian noted the pristine gloves of the footman, the buttons of his uniform polished to perfection.

All his movements were practiced and smooth.

The china patterns of the service set were skillfully painted, the dishes upon them made by experienced hands.

Every element of the meal involved attention to detail.

And yet she would far rather eat from a wooden bowl, tasting the love with which her mother made their simple meals, surrounded by people who laughed and teased, where the only decorum was to wash one’s hands before sitting down.

Ermenbrough had given her this. But it was very far away right now, in every sense of the word. This was home now. This place where rules and refinement were more important than people and connection.

The room grew close. The walls seemed to rush at her. Her chest pushed against her bodice, which felt tighter with each breath.

“Jilly? What’s the matter?” Lewis asked, his brow furrowed, his shoulders leaning forward.

“I think… think I need some air,” she murmured.

Lewis stood at once.

“There is no need for everyone to abandon the dinner, Lewis,” Lord Bradford said gruffly. He beckoned to the nearest footman. “Fetch a maidservant to attend to Mrs. Bradford.”

“Father,” Lewis urged, “I really think I should…”

But Lord Bradford ignored him, addressing Jillian instead. “You may be excused until you are recovered. The drawing room is close by and comfortable. Settle yourself there and a servant will see to your needs.”

Jillian stood slowly, her heart beating with great force. She could see Lewis hovering at his seat, his father staring him down until he was sitting again. She sucked in a lungful of air, but it only made her feel dizzy.

The footman reappeared, a maidservant at his elbow. He stepped forward briskly and offered an arm held some distance from his body. It was not the sort of motion Lewis would have made. He would have buoyed her, drawing her close to offer not only his body, but his heart for support.

Still, she managed well enough on the bough-like arm that extended from the footman. The trio made their way from the room solemnly. Her husband’s eyes followed her every step, but Lord Bradford gazed straight ahead and continued to cut the roast on his plate.

As they progressed down the corridor, Jillian heard Lady Bradford say, “Is she with child, Lewis? It is not even ten days since the wedding. She should not yet be so far along as to be as out of sorts as this. Unless… Is this why you married her?”

Jillian could picture Lewis bristling at the comment.

“Honestly, Mother!” His exasperation rang clear down the hallway. “It’s bad enough you believe me capable of seducing a young woman, but to think that Jillian would accommodate such advances!”

“Why, Lewis, I hardly know her or the effect she might have had upon you. She is hardly the sort of quality lady…”

Her words fell behind as Jillian, the footman, and the maid passed beyond reach of hearing them. Neither of the servants said a word of their own, nor would they, but Jilly burned with embarrassment.

The footman stood by as Jillian settled into a very expensive-looking upholstered chair. Of course, it would be. Everything at Oakwoods revolved around the outward show of things.

“Janet will see to you now, ma’am,” said the young man, his eyes soft, a small frown not quite hidden. “I must return to my duties.”

“Thank you,” Jillian answered before leaning back and catching her breath. She was starting to feel better here, away from the constant reminder that everything about herself was wrong—certainly in Lord and Lady Bradford’s eyes, anyway.

Janet stood quietly and waited. Her light-brown fringe was tucked neatly under her cap, but a few wisps had escaped in the nape of her neck.

She had intelligent, brown eyes, which were only noticeable because Jillian caught her staring.

She was probably wondering if there was any truth to her mistress’s suspicions.

Jillian hated that such implied indiscretion should hang over her head.

“I’m not… with child,” she told the maid. “Not yet, anyway.”

“It’s none of my business, ma’am,” answered Janet with the words she was no doubt expected to say. And then, perhaps because she felt Jilly needed some support, she added, “And even if you were, you wouldn’t be the first lady to marry so.”

“But I’m not a lady, am I, Janet?” Jillian sighed.

Janet sniffed. “Hasn’t stopped them sorts of folks from getting in the family way ahead of themselves, ma’am.”

Jillian smiled in spite of herself. “Why, Janet, you have opinions! How absolutely wonderful!”

Janet quickly looked over her shoulder, then leaned in toward Jillian a little. “Opinions ain’t popular when you’re a servant. But we have them all the same.”

Jilly pulled a face. “I don’t think they’re particularly popular when you’re a lady, either. It seems only the master and mistress of the house may utter their thoughts aloud. Poor Lewis! This is all he’s ever known.”

Jillian’s forthright manner must have let the little maid’s guard down, for Janet rapidly shared a host of her previously private thoughts.

“Our Mr. Bradford’s not as bold as Miss Bradford,” she declared.

“She’s a feisty one, that. He’s always been the quieter type.

Bit odd for a barrister, I often thought.

They talk in court all the time, don’t they?

But here at Oakwoods, he was ever in Master Philip’s shadow. ”

Jillian was silent for a while, mulling over the truth of these words.

“Janet…”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Do you think I have made things worse for him?”

“Oh, no , ma’am!” Janet’s eyes widened and her hand stretched out as if to stop the very thought in its tracks. “Ever since you came into his life a year ago, he’s been positively bloomin’! Everyone’s noticed.”

“But he is constantly sparring with his parents because of me,” Jilly said miserably.

“That ain’t your fault. Their lordship and ladyship have always wanted things just so .

It didn’t matter if it made their children unhappy.

They got lucky with Master Philip. He lapped it all up ’cos he was the heir, see?

The only reason why Mr. Bradford hadn’t much argued with his parents before now is ’cos he didn’t care enough to make the effort.

But you matter to him. It’s quite romantic, actually. ”

“It doesn’t feel very romantic, I must say. All I can do is hope that the worst of it settles over time.”

“Don’t take it too much to heart, ma’am. They can’t help how they are any more than you can. It’s not personal.”

“It feels jolly personal to me ,” huffed Jilly.

Janet must have had no answer to that because she lapsed into silence.

Jillian, too, had nothing more to say, but she was in no hurry to leave the sanctuary of the drawing room. Still, there was no need to have Janet stand beside her like a sentry.

“I’m keeping you from your duties,” she told the little maid. “You can leave me. I am perfectly well now. I just don’t wish to return to dinner quite yet.”

“My duties are whatever they tell me.” Janet indicated with her chin toward the dining room. “I can stay as long as you like.”

Jillian tilted her head at an angle and looked at the young maid with new eyes.

“Tell me, Janet, what makes you loyal to the Bradfords when they are so exacting?”

“Oh, that ain’t no reason to quit,” Janet answered.

“All the great houses have similar demands. If you’re a servant, you know to work hard and follow orders.

But the Bradfords have a large enough staff that no one is run completely ragged.

Our quarters are clean, our wages on time.

We are not punished unduly. Our wages are not garnished for petty reasons.

It is honest work, and fair. Believe me, there are masters enough of whom the same cannot be said. ”

“But it can still be a challenge, is that not true? My own family has managed to fare well enough since my father has a senior position, but many servants I know have struggled to get by on what they earn. What do the staff of Oakwoods wish for?”

“Oh, no, ma’am, I cannot say! It would be impertinent of me to complain, and to the master’s family, no less!”

“You have my word. It will go no further than this room.”

Janet considered these words for several moments.

“Well, I suppose it would help if we got the occasional food basket when times are hard, like in winter, or after a bad harvest, or if someone is sick. The Bradfords are very generous at the holidays, especially Boxing Day, but they seem unaware of what befalls us throughout the year.”

“Does your housekeeper not know when her staff is suffering? Surely, she could suggest to Lady Bradford when further assistance might be welcome?”

Janet lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “She will know if one of us is too ill to work. As for the rest, I do not think it falls under her responsibilities.”

“Well,” said Jillian, sitting up straight, “I have just made the responsibility mine. Thank you, Janet, for giving me something to do . I think I can face the others at dinner now. Whenever Lord or Lady Bradford make me feel less than enough, I shall stop listening and picture myself delivering baskets instead. It will be a treat to become acquainted with the tenants, too. They will be so much easier to talk to. And I will be better able to assist Mr. Bradford when he must take the reins from his father if I understand the needs and workings of the estate.”

She slapped her hands upon her knees and stood.

“Do you know, I feel quite splendid! I think I shall enjoy my ham now, if it has not grown cold.” Jillian began to walk toward the doorway, stopped, turned, and added, “Oh, Janet, when next you have a day off, come and take tea with me at the cottage. We have much to discuss.”

“Oh, ma’am, I couldn’t possibly come as your guest! It’s not proper for…”

Jillian waved an impatient hand. “Shu-shu-shush, I won’t hear of it. At the cottage, I make my own rules.”

She sighed a happy sigh of satisfaction, set her shoulders squarely, and marched off to the dining room. Whatever had transpired in her absence would not affect her now. She had a plan. And no one would thwart it. She might not know how to set a fine table, but she knew about kindness.

Oakwoods was about to become a very well-loved place, indeed.