Lady Jane Read Free

take them too young, and not to get them into trouble, for he prized his position, an enormously lucrative one for him, and he knew that any hint of pregnant serving girls would land him in the streets.
    His eyes flickered hungrily over the ripe red mouth and the perfect breasts, and he wished there was some way to get that hawk-faced old besom Wright out of the room. He sighed regretfully, for he knew she’d never budge, and contented himself with patting Jane’s fresh, rounded cheek in an avuncular fashion.
    “Well, then, crying mends nothing. Here’s your money. I’m sorry for you, girl.”
    She turned away, swallowing a sob, and stumbled to the door. She was taken by surprise at his kindness, for she’d never cared for Mr. Leach very much, though some of the girls thought him handsome. Jane had thought his eyes set too close together and hadn’t cared for the look she sometimes saw in them when he eyed her. And his mouth, she thought, was that cruel lookin’, so thin-lipped he was. He’d never even deigned to speak to her before, and she felt he thought too highly of himself. But perhaps she’d been mistaken in him.
    Presently she found herself standing in the street, her box in her hand, and shivering slightly in her worn black pelisse. As she stood in the entryway to the servants’ entrance, trying to decide which direction to turn, she heard the main door of the house opening and turned to see who was coming out.
    “Tell my mama I won’t be in for luncheon,” said Lord Jaspar as he came down the steps and crossed the pavement to his phaeton, waiting at the curb.
    Jane noticed with some satisfaction that he was walking somewhat awkwardly, and her lips twitched with glee. He glanced up at that moment and saw her, and saw, also, the smile. He flushed painfully, and ducked quickly into his carriage.
    Hmpf! thought Jane, you’re nought but a cowardly boy, for all your pretty face and grand airs. No fear you told your mother and sister just how that robe got tore, and you as much to blame as me that’s payin’ for it. Well—not quite so much, to be sure, for if I’d not taken me clothes off in the first place, he’d not of tried his games.
    She saw the coachman jump down from his perch and go to the side, where a hand came out and dropped something into the servant’s palm. The man looked around, saw Jane, and came to her.
    “M’lord says to gie’ ’ee this,” he said, holding out his hand in which rested a gold coin.
    She stared at it for an instant, then snatching it up, she marched around the man and up to the carriage.
    She stared at Lord Jaspar disdainfully for a moment, then with a flick of her wrist, tossed the coin into his lap, where it landed squarely on that section of his anatomy he was still most painfully aware of this morning. He gasped. She drew herself up regally, threw up her chin, and sailed away down the street triumphantly.

 
    2
    A week later she thought with regret of that gold coin, and acknowledged that the pleasure of the grand gesture of throwing it back at him would have been better foregone.
    She had spent that entire first day trudging from one agency to another and being summarily ejected when she confessed to having been let go without references. When it drew toward evening, she’d finally made her way, barely able to drag one foot after the other, deep into the stews of Cheapside, to the only person she knew outside the Montmorency household.
    Mrs. Blodgett and Jane’s mother had come up from their country village together as girls to go into service in London, and had kept in touch as much as possible over the years. Jane had not seen the woman since her mother’s funeral, but felt sure Mrs. Blodgett would take her in until she could get a situation.
    She had done so, but Jane had never been more unhappy in her life. The Blodgetts lived in one wretched room that opened directly into a narrow, cobbled street, running with filth dumped from night pails out of