The Last of Lady Lansdown Read Free

to change the subject. You know you didn’t have to marry Lord Lansdown. The choice was yours.”
    “Of course she had to marry him,” Granny snapped. “Who else was going to marry her without a dowry? It’s a good thing she did, Amelia. Otherwise, you would be living in some thatched-roof hovel, collecting rags in the street.”
    “I shall not dignify that remark with a reply.” With a haughty tilt of her nose, Mama turned to Jane. “Tell me you are at least fond of the earl. Tell me you were quite willing to marry him and restore our fortune.”
    Jane’s sister put down her fork and tossed her blonde curls. “How could she be fond of a man who is full of arrogance and never laughs?”
    “Millicent!” Mama looked highly annoyed. “Need I remind you that if it had not been for the earl, you would never have had your coming-out and your season?”
    Millicent’s blue eyes lit. “Plus my dowry. Yes, of course, I’m grateful for that, but he’s all I said, nonetheless.” She stood and pushed back her chair. “The seamstress is coming this afternoon to finish the blue calico. When Lord DeWitt arrives next week, I shall look so absolutely smashing he will have no choice but to propose.”
    “Are you sure you love him?” Granny asked.
    “Love him? Lord Dewitt is perfect in every way and I absolutely adore the man.”
    Granny emitted one of her skeptical grunts. “No man is perfect, missy.”
    “Well, Lord DeWitt is, and he’s going to be mine, all mine!”
    After Millicent bounced out of the room, Granny turned to Jane. “I wonder if that girl realizes the sacrifice you made.”
    “Does it matter? I’m just glad she’s happy.” Jane recalled her sister’s sad plight after their father left. Her flighty heart had been set on a coming-out and season wherein she would meet and fall madly in love with her future husband, who of course would be rich, titled and incredibly handsome. Instead, after Papa fled the country, she spent her days sobbing on her bed, convinced her life was over. Not until the earl proposed to Jane, promising in his zeal to support her family, did Millicent bounce back to being her lovable, scatter-brained self. She’d had her season. Even better, she had met rich, titled, handsome Lord DeWitt, who, everyone predicted, was bound to propose when he came for his visit.
    Mama cast a triumphant look at Granny. “There, you see? Jane is happy.”
    “Quite happy.” A lie, of course, but some things were best left unsaid.
    “Now all she needs is to present his lordship with an heir and her life will be complete.”
    “Well, I don’t see that happening.” Granny’s voice had a sly lilt. “It’s been a year. What do you say, Jane? Can Lord High-and-Mighty not get it up?”
    Mama jerked as if she’d been stung by some insect. “Mother, please .” Furtively, she looked around, as if to make sure no servant overheard such an indelicacy. “Mother, how could you?” She drew herself up into a quivering bundle of self-righteousness. “There are some matters we simply do not ever discuss.”
    “Maybe we should.” Granny looked at Jane. “Well? Are you going to answer my question?”
    “No, I am not.” Jane had long since learned the best way to deal with her grandmother was to counter bluntness with bluntness. Besides, if ever there was a subject she did not want to discuss, it was her intimacies with her husband. Little did they know ... and as far as she was concerned, they would remain in ignorance.
    Mama stubbornly continued, “Jane, it has been a whole year. Do you not have any idea why—?”
    “No, I do not.” Jane rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “So, what are you saying? My year of grace is up and therefore you will be hounding me from now on?”
    “You need not be so touchy. I am only thinking how important your producing an heir must be to the earl. How it must gall him—not having one child while his twin brother has eight.”
    “Of course he would like a