Page 47 of Jillian’s Wild Heart (Ladies of Munro #4)

T he solicitor had just been shown from his study.

Lewis sat back, arms crossed behind his head, feeling very pleased with the plans he had set in motion.

He had even begun to hum a little ditty—something he had not done for many months—when his father appeared in the doorway, brandishing a letter, his face a thundercloud.

“That wife of yours causes trouble even when she’s two hundred miles away!” he bellowed.

Lewis threw himself forward into a more formal posture, partly out of habit when in his father’s presence and partly in readiness to defend Jilly’s honor.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. Not that he wanted to know. It clearly wasn’t good news.

“I’ve just received a letter from Henry Trenton.” Deep frown lines appeared on his father’s already serious face.

“Why would he be writing to you?”

“He is troubled by how Jillian has been conducting herself at Trenton Grange. I suppose I should not be surprised.” Lord Bradford growled his deep displeasure.

“Can she not even rein herself in for the sake of Lady Howell? They’re supposed to be best friends.

But your wife seems to have lost all sense of reason.

Your mother and I are gravely concerned about the blight she continues to cast on this family. ”

Lewis’s hackles rose. He knew what sort of man Trenton was. Controlling. Unyielding. If anyone lacked reason, it was more likely he, for he could not be reasoned with. It would have taken very little at all for Jilly to offend him.

Lewis’s apparent lack of concern only fueled his father’s rage. “What are you going to do about it?” the baron demanded.

“Perhaps you will allow me to see the letter for myself.” Lewis held out an open palm to receive the inflammatory pages.

“Here.” Lord Bradford thrust them into his son’s hand. “And to think you could have married Miss Sangford.”

Lewis chose to ignore the comment. If all went as planned, he would be hearing a lot less of these sorts of remarks in the near future.

He cast his eyes down to the painfully neat, small lettering that matched Mr. Trenton’s exacting personality.

The man had wasted no time in coming to the point.

And his point, it seemed, was to declare Jillian an unsuitable character and to beg Lord Bradford’s interference.

And beg he would, for Henry Trenton had two weaknesses: an unhealthy love of money and a simpering awe for any personage of the nobility.

Your most excellent lordship,

It is with deep regret and no small embarrassment that I write to you for your assistance.

We have, as you know, your daughter-in-law as our houseguest for the next six weeks. However, it has taken less than a week for her to bring disruption to the calm and honor of my household and shame upon your fine name.

You should know that she has attached herself on a daily basis to Mr. Simon Boyd, the land steward of my neighbor, who, being away at present, is unaware of the behavior of his employee and therefore cannot rein it in.

It would appear she has used the presence of her lady’s maid to lessen the blatancy of her actions.

But this only means that both young women are making fools of themselves, following the fellow on his rounds and dragging the viscountess’s name through the mud by association.

Moreover, against our sound advice, Mrs. Bradford has taken it upon herself to attend a dance intended for the laboring class.

Mr. Boyd, I understand, is to attend also.

As companion, Mrs. Bradford intends to have her mother, a woman who has never taught her children anything of restraint and could therefore provide no guarantee for your daughter-in-law’s reputation at the dance.

Finally, in a pique of rage, Mrs. Bradford this morning denounced her connection to my daughter, seeking to stay with her parents instead.

As excuse, she offers that she is unwell and prefers to be tended to by her mother.

But I suspect this is just another ruse to do as she pleases.

Without my sharp eye or the milder intervention of the viscountess (her supposed friend), Mrs. Bradford may now apply her will to any manner of impulse that incites her. It is a most alarming state of affairs.

As you might imagine, your lordship, I have received her visit with us in good faith, but such courtesy has not been returned by our guest. I must humbly ask you to intercede.

If there are words that may sway her actions, I beg you to utter them to her with immediacy.

Otherwise, it is my dearest wish that you recall her to London, where you may take her under a firm hand before your good name is left in tatters.

Your servant,

Henry Trenton

Oh, dear.

Lewis could imagine all too easily the clash between the personalities of Jillian and Mr. Trenton, for two more opposite souls could scarcely exist.

Jillian would have felt herself freer to do as she once had—spending time with those who had been her peers and childhood friends.

Boyd was a fine fellow, both in character and appearance.

That much had been clear from Penelope’s interest in him.

But Jilly would not have allowed herself that much freedom, would she?

The fact that she had thought to take a lady’s maid along on her rounds with Mr. Boyd told Lewis she was trying to keep some semblance of propriety.

Or did she not trust herself around him?

Was it possible that an old friendship was bringing her more joy than Lewis had provided in some time?

Her accompanying Mr. Boyd as he worked reminded Lewis how desperately she had wanted to be of use at Oakwoods, and how he had told her, time and again, that such roles were denied her.

Jilly was no doubt loving her new freedom, yet she was certainly trying to act responsibly.

Lewis could only admire that she was still trying.

He needed to prove himself worthy of her.

Especially if she was experiencing a daily reminder that Lewis did not provide the satisfaction to her soul that Mr. Boyd did.

As for the dance, the laboring class had once been all she had ever known.

These were people whose company she would seek to relive some of the freedoms of her unmarried years.

Joining them for an evening of fun… Ah, he could just imagine it.

Her eyes dancing with delight. Her feet stepping lightly.

Perhaps a strand of hair would come loose…

But he would not be there to tuck it behind her ear.

He would not have his hand upon his waist. He was missing out on seeing her at her happiest. But then again, it had been that way for some time.

Whether she had been invited there, he did not know, but it was likely she had hoped such an event would allow her to spend time with old friends in a way they could not do under more formal circumstances.

Jilly would have wanted that more than anything.

If she had been welcomed, he would be very glad, for it would be a balm for the wounds the ton had inflicted upon her.

And he counted himself and his family among those who had added to her pain.

He prayed she had been welcomed. He could not bear the thought of her suffering at the hands of those she considered her sanctuary.

Either way, it was hardly a shameful deed to join in a country dance or two, especially when it was a casual affair.

Mr. Trenton was really grasping at straws to find fault with Jilly.

And his insult to her mother was simply unforgivable.

Mrs. Kinsey might have been a woman of humble origins, but her character lacked nothing.

The Henry Trentons of this world had much to learn from her.

As far as Lewis was concerned, there were only two worrying elements to this letter.

Why had two such dear friends fallen out?

And what made his wife so unwell that she required the attentions of her mother?

Jillian was the healthiest being he knew.

This would not be a mere seasonal sniffle.

It angered Lewis that Mr. Trenton had sought to write a tattling letter to his father instead of calling a doctor for his wife.

The man had been more concerned with the minutiae of etiquette and had not even described what ailed his guest. He had even gone as far as to call her a liar!

Lewis considered it a great mercy that Henry Trenton did not stand before him now, for he would have been hard-pressed not to punch the fellow on the jaw.

“Do you see?” Lewis’s father tapped the pages with an irate finger.

“She is making a mockery of you, fraternizing with this Boyd fellow. I mean, what is a lady’s maid going to do if her mistress tells her to hold her tongue?

And Jillian’s mother would be no better.

You see what Mr. Trenton has to say about her.

It is a damnable state of affairs, Lewis! ”

Lewis stared at his father. It would be equally wrong to punch the baron, but Lewis was finding it very hard to hear his father echo Trenton’s ugly remarks.

“Mr. Trenton,” said Lewis through a tight jaw, “is a kowtowing, mean-spirited bully. He thinks and says the worst, running to you with such vile insinuations simply to curry favor with a man of title.”

Lord Bradford was unmoved. “You are willfully ignorant of your wife’s behavior. She does as she wishes and the more you allow such freedoms, the more freedoms she will take. If you are not going to take her in hand, you will find yourself suing for divorce, for she will certainly cuckold you.”