Lord Lansbury's Christmas Wedding. Helen Dickson
* *
Aunt Caroline was right. Lady Lansbury, a regal lady, arrived with her daughter in a carriage with a resplendent coachman and a little page at the back to leap down and open doors.
Jane could not believe her eyes when she saw Lady Lansbury—she was the woman she had met on the ship and the child Octavia was just as she remembered. She was touched that Lady Lansbury should remember her.
‘Why, Miss Mortimer! I am so pleased to see you again. Allow me to thank you once again for what you did for Octavia. Your niece was extremely brave, Mrs Standish,’ she said to Jane’s aunt. ‘She risked her life to save Octavia when she fell on the deck of the ship when we were crossing the Channel and was in danger of sliding into the sea. I was journeying from Paris accompanied by my son, Lord Lansbury. We were indeed grateful that Miss Mortimer acted so quickly.’
Mrs Standish looked at her niece with some degree of surprise. ‘Really? You never mentioned it, Jane.’
‘I had no reason to. We were not introduced so I had no idea the two of you are acquainted. When the child slipped and fell I did what anyone else would have done. At the time I was close to her.’
‘You are too modest, my dear,’ Lady Lansbury said. ‘Your prompt action saved her life.’
‘I was glad I was able to help.’ Jane longed to ask after Lady Lansbury’s son, but thought better of it. After all it was unlikely they would meet again. Lord Lansbury had made a large impression on her virgin heart. When she was least expecting it thoughts of him would fill her mind so that she was unable to think of anything else which totally confused her. No man had ever had this effect on her before. But he was an earl, the Earl of Lansbury, way above her station in life and all she could do was admire him from afar. She looked at the child, who, it was clear, didn’t remember her. ‘Lady Octavia is such a lovely child.’
Jane’s wonder increased when Octavia, clutching her beloved Pekinese in the crook of one arm, danced up to her and said, ‘I like your dress. It’s very pretty.’
‘Thank you,’ Jane said, responding warmly to the compliment, even though she disagreed with her. It was much worn and certainly not fashionable. But the colours were bright, the pattern bold, and she was in no doubt that it was this that had drawn Octavia’s attention.
Octavia sat beside her on the striped sofa, placing her dog between them. The dog lifted its paw, cocked its head and peered up at Jane with yellow eyes, as if to fathom the spirit of this new person.
‘She wants you to shake hands with her,’ Octavia informed her.
Jane took the proffered paw and a pink tongue lolled out the side of the jaws almost in a smile. ‘Does your dog have a name?’
‘Poppy. She’s called Poppy.’
‘That’s a nice name. She is safe, isn’t she?’ Jane questioned with a teasing light in her eyes. ‘I mean—she doesn’t eat people, does she?’
Octavia tilted her head to one side and looked at her curiously, amazed that this lady should think her precious dog might bite. ‘No, of course she doesn’t. She likes you. I can tell. I like you, too. You are a very nice lady. Will you be my friend? I don’t have any.’ There was no hint of sadness in her remark. It was a matter-of-fact comment. That was the way it was.
Jane laughed and said she would like that very much. Stroking the ears of the Pekinese she studied the young girl. With silver-blonde hair and eyes a shining bright blue, her features piquant, she was a lively and restless girl with an independent spirit and full of energies she was unable to repress. For the time the visit lasted Octavia never left Jane’s side. Jane realised that Lady Lansbury was closely following their exchange and watching them attentively, speculatively. She did not withhold comment.
‘I can see Octavia has found a friend in you, Miss Mortimer. You are fortunate. She doesn’t take to people easily.’
From the small table beside her Jane took a painted tin of bonbons she had bought earlier and held them out to the girl. ‘I don’t think I can eat all these, Lady Octavia. Would you mind keeping the tin for me and helping me along with them?’
Octavia blinked her large eyes and looked enquiringly at her mother as if seeking her guidance. Lady Lansbury nodded and smiled her approval, and hesitantly Octavia’s gaze came back to Jane. Accepting the tin, she immediately opened it and selected a bonbon, popping the sugary confection into her mouth and beaming her delight at the taste.
* * *
London was an exciting and fascinating place to be. Jane loved it. Aunt Caroline accompanied her on her excursions, pointing out to her buildings and places of note. They strolled in the parks and Jane was thrilled to see all the bright and beautiful flowers in borders and beds. Having spent most of her life surrounded by hot and arid landscapes, she found it truly amazing to see so much colour in one place.
At other times she was trying to sort out her father’s affairs and considering her future. She gave little thought to her meeting with Lady Lansbury, so she was surprised when she called on the off chance one week later, hoping to find her at home.
Thinking her visit had something to do with one of the charities they supported, Aunt Caroline ushered her into the drawing room. Over tea they chatted about trivial matters. Jane listened, saying very little. Beneath a tiny jacket Lady Lansbury had on a beautiful gown in a silky material which shone where the light touched it. It was in a colour that reminded her of the sun when it was sinking at dusk, a sort of mixture between brown and gold and warm pink. The skirt was full and on her head was a pretty straw hat decorated with flowers to match her dress.
Jane was conscious of Lady Lansbury’s eyes studying her, not critically, nor with the kind of morbid fascination with which many of her class would gaze at her unfashionable attire and plain looks. Rather it was with an assessing frankness, a frankness and even an admiration one woman directs at another when she sincerely believes that woman is worthy of it.
‘How is Lady Octavia?’ Jane found herself asking. ‘It was a pleasure to meet her. She is such a charming, sweet girl.’
‘Yes, she is—but then she is my daughter and I love her dearly.’ Lady Lansbury placed her cup and saucer down. Her face, which had been firm with some inner resolve, softened imperceptibly. ‘Of course I am so glad you think so, Miss Mortimer, because my visit concerns Octavia. When we were here last week I could not help noticing that you seem to have a way with her—and she has talked of nothing else but you since. I have come here today to ask for your help.’
‘Oh!’ Jane uttered, slightly taken aback, for she could not for the life of her think how she could possibly be of help to the Countess of Lansbury.
‘When I spoke to your aunt, I seem to recall her mentioning that you have returned to England after spending many years travelling abroad with your father.’
‘That is so,’ Jane confirmed quietly. ‘Sadly my father died when we were in Egypt, which is why I have come to stay with Aunt Caroline while his affairs are put in order and I consider my future.’
‘Do you like children, Miss Mortimer?’
‘Why—I—yes, of course, although I confess that being an only child and constantly on the move, I have no experience of them.’
‘You appeared to get on with Octavia well enough. I wondered if you would consider helping me take care of her. She can be difficult on occasion. All the young ladies I have employed in the past do not make it past the first month before they are heading for the door.’
‘I—I don’t know...’
‘Miss Mortimer, please, I beg you, let me finish. I want to offer you permanent, full-time employment. We will be leaving London for our family home—Chalfont House in Oxfordshire—within the week. Octavia has developed a slight cough. I believe the country air is so much better for her than this London smog. I can’t tell you how happy it would make me if you were to come with us.’
‘Lady