Page 54 of The Heir (A Young Queen Victoria Mystery #1)

L iza had tried to warn Jane that being able to stay home was very much a mixed blessing.

If you think running Mother’s errands and paying Mother’s calls and writing Mother’s letters—not to mention giving the orders to Cook and Mrs. Pullet because she simply cannot be bothered—is a grand way to spend your time, you’re welcome to try it.

Liza, as usual, had been right. Even with Father gone, there were a thousand household tasks to be done every day. There were all the orders for meals and laundry and shopping to be given, and Jane didn’t know any of the routines, and the housekeeper’s sympathies stretched only so far.

Then there were all the calls to be made, because the social ties had to be maintained, but it seemed that Mama did not actually like any of the ladies she called friends and so did not choose to exert herself on a regular basis.

But, of course, it was vital that she be available for calls to be paid on her.

So, for Mother’s “at-home” days, Jane had to sit in the parlor, to pour the tea and usher the ladies in and out.

At another time, Jane would have found all of this insufferably dull, but now she threw herself into it. Because while she was doing Mother’s work for her, she wasn’t thinking about Ned and the duel and the blackmail.

Wasn’t thinking about how she could find a way to talk to Mr. Rea or what she would say when she finally did.

Thankfully, with Father gone, Ned seemed to find he had an even greater license to do exactly as he chose. Most nights he did not come home at all. That meant Jane did not have to see him or sit with him and keep silent about all the suspicions that rubbed her heart raw.

Because I don’t know anything.

And she wouldn’t know anything until she talked to William Rea, and yet she was afraid what would happen once she did.

So, to her shame, Jane dithered. She told herself she had time.

The princess would be gone for almost the entire month.

She and Victoria had whispered about Jane trying to come and meet the tour at Ramsgate, the last stop before they returned to Kensington.

There they could enact a tear-filled reunion.

“We’ll have to make sure whatever we’ve quarreled over will keep you in your father’s good graces,” Victoria had said. “That way he’ll permit you to stay with us at Ramsgate so we can talk and decide what we will do next.”

But that meant that even if there weren’t any delays during the princess’s progress, there were two whole weeks until Jane needed to find a way to travel to meet the royal household. She could take her time. She could plan her own maneuvers.

Then Liza came home.

It happened remarkably quietly. Jane was in her sitting room, reviewing the dinner menu. Because the morning was fine, she had opened the window, and so she heard when a carriage pulled up in the street. She glanced out the window and then jumped to her feet and ran to see.

In the street below, Liza was climbing out of a private carriage. The footman came out of the house to collect her luggage, which the coachman had dropped unceremoniously onto the cobbles.

A scant few minutes later, Liza breezed into the sitting room.

“Hello, Jane!” She pulled off her bonnet and tossed it aside. “What’s that? The dinner menu? Oh good. I’m sure I haven’t had a decent meal in a week. I would cheerfully commit murder for one of Cook’s apple pies.”

What are you doing here? I was sure you eloped!

But no. Liza sat calmly on the lounge and began pulling her gloves off. She glanced up at Jane, and Jane saw the deep shadows under her eyes and the hollows of her cheeks.

She also saw her sister’s silent plea that she not remark on any of this.

Jane swallowed hard. “How . . . how is Miss Schumann?”

“Oh, it was a marvelous time,” said Liza brightly. “They would have kept me longer, but I thought I’d best be getting home. I knew the place would be in an absolute shambles without me. I think Mrs. Pullet is happier to see me than Mother is.”

“What about Miss Schumann’s brother?” asked Jane cautiously. “You’d mentioned him particularly before you left . . .” And you said you weren’t waiting for Mother and Father to make any kind of match for you . . .

“Oh, well, that.” Liza’s voice shook. She cleared her throat and went on more calmly. “You know what young men are. Desperate flirts, all of them, but you can’t take any one of them seriously. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that!”

Jane looked at her sister.

Liza looked back. Don’t make me say anything , her weary eyes said. Please.

But Jane stood up and walked over to her. She sat on the lounge and took her sister’s hand, and Liza did not pull away.

“Is there,” Jane began, “anything you will . . . need help with?”

A single tear trickled down Liza’s cheek. “No, Jane. I didn’t . . . almost, but not quite. So, no.” She smiled weakly. “But thank you.”

After that, there was nothing for them to do but hold on to each other while they cried.