Destitute On His Doorstep. Helen Dickson
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I’m glad we agree on something. I shall go to the correct committee and demand that the estate be returned to my possession.’
A flash of annoyance darkened his eyes. ‘Demand? Really, Mistress Lucas, to use such language in front of the Committee for Compounding in London would mean certain failure. To apply would be a more appropriate term. Do you not agree?’
Jane’s cheeks flamed at his attempt to give her a lesson in etiquette. ‘Whatever it takes to retrieve Bilborough I shall do. So I advise you not to get too comfortable.’
‘You are desperate and desperation should never be underestimated. I am sure you are an exceptional woman in persuading others to do your bidding—but you have no idea what you will be up against.’
‘I’m no weakling who gives in at the first obstacle. Women are more resourceful than men give us credit.’
‘I know many who are on both sides, but such fire and vehemence—you are a veritable tigress, Mistress Lucas.’
‘And you are insufferably rude, Colonel Russell.’
‘But always honest.’
Jane stepped back, her eyes flashing with the force of her anger and the heat that was beginning to consume her body. ‘Do not mock me, sir. I am serious. I shall not give up on this.’
‘Do as you must, but you will be wasting your time.’ He encountered her hostile gaze and smiled.
It was a disconcertingly pleasant smile, and the fact that even through a haze of anger and acute physical misery and social embarrassment she could recognise it as such increased Jane’s hostility. ‘We shall see. I shall do whatever it takes to have you removed from this house.’
‘And fail. Two categories are exempted from applying—those who were the King’s top men, and those who are both Catholics and Royalists. Your father belonged to the latter.’
‘He was not a Catholic.’
‘No, but he was a staunch Royalist. Therefore his estate was confiscated and sold—to me.’
‘Aye, with money plundered from the Royalists, I don’t doubt.’
His eyes glittered like ice. ‘I am no thief, Mistress Lucas. I have got where I am by my ability to succeed. Right now you are distraught and angry—and rightly so, since I can imagine how you must feel on knowing the place you have called home is no longer that, so I shall ignore what you have said. But know this. The money with which I purchased this house was earned in honest occupation, so please don’t accuse me of being a thief again.’
Jane stared at him, white and rigid. Something warned her that she dared much with her open disdain. She thought here was a man who revealed nothing of his thoughts and passions, and he ruled himself like steel. Lowering her gaze, she nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘Just one more thing, Mistress Lucas. You say you will travel to London to face the Committee for Compounding.’
‘What of it?’
‘Will you have the money with which to pay the fine? Bilborough is a sizeable estate. Should the Committee consider your application, the sum will be considerable.’
Jane stared at him. So confident had she been that she would be able to simply walk into Bilborough and carry on as though nothing had happened, she had given no thought to any of this.
‘No,’ he said, taking her silence as assent. ‘I thought not.’ He cocked an eye at her, the light from the leaping flames in the hearth setting strange shadows dancing around them. The lights flickered over his thick hair, outlining his face. He looked down at her. She had allowed her guard to slip a notch, showing her distress. She looked so young, innocent and vulnerable and her pride was hurting, and for some unknown reason he felt a fierce, uncontrollable urge to protect her. A gentle smile touched his lips.
‘So, Mistress Lucas, it would seem you are homeless.’
She bowed her head. Though her face did not flinch, Jane could feel her anger mingled with her distress simmering inside her, but knowing he was observing her and feeling the indignity of her position, impelled her to raise her head bravely. ‘It would appear so,’ she replied tightly.
‘You have travelled from Northampton, I believe.’ She nodded. ‘Alone?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then you are more reckless than I thought. Can you not return to Northampton?’
‘No—I cannot do that,’ she replied haltingly, lowering her eyes to hide the painful memories his question evoked. ‘It—it is out of the question.’
He stared at her for a moment, seeing her anxiety, but he did not comment on it. Biting back an admiring smile, he watched her struggle to maintain a cold façade in the face of his silent scrutiny, and he marvelled that she could convey so many things without moving or speaking. She was outrageously daring and untempered by wisdom or hampered by caution, and he wondered why she had left Northampton. Was it merely because she had wanted to come home, or something more sinister than that? Had she been driven out by desperation?
Curious as to the cause of it, he turned his head away lest he be seen with the expression on his face of the deep, welling, growing emotion she aroused in him. Deep, yes, ever since she had hurtled so precipitously into his life just moments before.
‘And you have no family you can go to?’
‘No. I have no family.’ Beginning to realize the true gravity of her situation, an awful lump of desolation swelled in Jane’s throat as she folded her hands in her lap and tried to think what to do next.
As if he read her thoughts and not unacquainted with hardship—he had not forgotten the pain of it—he said, ‘I am not as heartless or as unfeeling as I might sound. At least let me offer you accommodation. My invitation that you remain as my guest still stands,’ he offered, hoping she would, astonishing himself.
‘I must reject your invitation. I will not inhabit the same house as a Roundhead,’ she replied.
Francis was relieved that her reply sounded more of a statement than a heated exchange of anger. ‘No, I though not. So—where are you planning to go?’
‘That is no concern of yours.’
‘Humour me,’ he said drily. ‘You have to go somewhere.’ When she didn’t reply and continued to look down at her hands, trying to hold on to his patience, in exasperation he said, ‘Mistress Lucas, are you always this disagreeable and stubborn?’
She glanced up at him. ‘My father always told me that I have a unique talent for it.’
Glancing down at her, Francis thought he glimpsed a shadow of a smile curving her soft mouth as she lowered her head once more. ‘I’m beginning to realise that. Might I make a suggestion?’
‘Please do.’
‘Your steward’s house is empty. You could stay there for the time being …’ A smile touched his lips. ‘Rent-free, naturally.’
‘That won’t be necessary. I may not have the money to pay the fine on Bilborough, but I am not destitute. I can pay my way.’
‘So you agree to live in the steward’s house?’
‘I am left with no choice.’
‘But you do have a choice.’
The dark eyes narrowed. ‘And I told you that I will not stay under the same roof as a Roundhead.’
‘As you wish.’ He turned away from her and shoved another log into the fire with his booted foot. ‘But I wonder if all that pride of yours will keep you warm at night and your belly full.’
Jane lowered her gaze, too aware of her situation to make any denials. ‘One must be practical.’
‘My thoughts exactly.’ His hard blue