Lady Joy and the Earl: A Regency Christmas Novella Read online

  “Arrived a bit ago. He thought it a jolly idea to surprise you. Moreover, we both wish to support Constance. She has been so nervous this week. I promised her I would come to listen to her and to applaud quite loudly, despite any mistakes she might make.”

  Jocelyn slipped her arm through his. “No thoughts of mistakes,” she cautioned.

  Andrew chuckled. “Constance is a sturdy girl. She reminds me of you, in that manner. I have no doubt she will do quite well.”

  Jocelyn did not glance back as she walked away, but she knew Mrs. Silva glared at her back. The earl and Jocelyn’s family had effectively removed Lord Hough from the woman’s clutches.

  When they reached the place where Hough and Michael waited, Jocelyn warmly embraced her younger son before accepting the crystal punch glass from Lord Hough. “I believe Mrs. Silva knows disappointment. The lady anticipated your return, my lord.” Behind her, she could hear Andrew and Michael good-naturedly teasing Constance. It pleased Jocelyn to know her sons had family, at last.

  “Were you jealous, my lady?” Lord Hough whispered.

  His lordship’s intimacy brought a flush of embarrassment to her cheeks, as well as lightness to her heart. “You know I am not.”

  “Why not?” he teased. “I am considered quite a catch. An earl. Rich. Moreover, I am told I have aged well.”

  “You have,” Jocelyn readily admitted.

  “And?” he prompted.

  “And any woman would be fortunate to claim your interest,” she said with a reluctant shrug.

  “Any woman but you,” he pressed.

  “I cannot,” she murmured.

  He inched closer. “Why? Do you not remember how wonderful it was when we were together?”

  “We were too impetuous to know—”

  “Know what?” he insisted.

  “That marriage has nothing to do with love or affection,” Jocelyn declared. “Can you say you affected Lady Hough?” She had no idea why she ventured into such private matters. Whether James loved his wife or not was truly none of her concern, but Jocelyn had always wondered if he cared for the woman he married. She had always wanted him to know happiness, even if she were miserable.

  “Louisa was not the most affectionate woman,” he admitted. He shot a quick glance to her sons. “Obviously, you tolerated Lord Lathrop’s attentions as often as Louisa did mine.”

  “This is not a competition, my lord.”

  “I did not think it was, my lady,” he argued. “I simply wished to make the point we both chose to place our duty elsewhere.”

  Jocelyn swallowed back the tears rushing to her eyes. “That is where you err, my lord. My father and Lord Lathrop came to an agreement regarding my life. I had no choice in the matter. Did you know I was worth nearly six thousand pounds? What the former Lord Powell owed my husband. My virginity saved my father from shame and made me the property—” She spat the words in a torrent of anger. “Of a man who brooked no forgiveness for those who disappointed him.”

  Too upset to continue their discussion, Jocelyn slipped in between her sons to join their conversation; yet, she could not shake the sensation Lord Hough studied her with fresh eyes. She had spent the last ten years attempting to be in control of her world: building her defenses by learning all she could of the viscountcy, while remaining invisible to those outside the estate, and with one look—one promise she had always desired—Lord Hough had destroyed her fortifications. What was she to do?

  Chapter Three

  “For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy.”

  William Shakespeare, Henry the Sixth, Part Three, Act V, Scene vii

  James did not escort the ladies to church the day after the musicale, and he was thankful to receive a note from Jocelyn stating Lathrop would escort her and Constance to the Carmichaels’ supper party on Monday. He was at a loss on how to go about winning Jocelyn’s heart a second time. Her words were so full of bitterness and indignation and an emotion he could not identify. Although she had not said the words, the blame for her misery had landed squarely on his shoulders.

  “Does Jocelyn not realize I, too, suffered in my marriage to Louisa?” he had grumbled more than once, in distraction, while finishing his letters to his man of business before departing for his home in Yorkshire.

  “I simply wished to make the point we both chose elsewhere.”

  “That is where you err, my lord. My father and Lord Lathrop came to an agreement regarding my life. I had no choice in the matter. Did you know I was worth nearly six thousand pounds? What the former Lord Powell owed my husband. My virginity saved my father from shame and made me the property of a man who brooked no forgiveness for those who disappointed him.”

  “Dear God!” James buried his face in his hands. “No wonder Jocelyn is so sad. Lathrop denied a woman as vibrant as Jocelyn her freedom. Robbed my dearest girl of the joy that emanates from her soul.” He squeezed his eyes tightly shut to drive away an image of Jocelyn on her knees before Lathrop, begging for her husband’s mercy, an image that had haunted James’s dreams last evening—an image that would not leave him, effectively replacing the one he had carried in his heart of her for some twenty years. An image of her smiling countenance. Her welcoming position. “How do I assist Lady Lathrop to reclaim Lady Joy?”

  On Tuesday, despite her objections, James escorted Jocelyn and Lady Constance to the Warwicks’ ball. Earlier in the day, he had done something impulsive, something quite foolish, but it was his only means to refocus his energies in earning Jocelyn’s regard. Only time will tell if I am to be a fool in love, he had chastised himself repeatedly.

  “Andrew can do the deed,” she had protested when he called for her on Tuesday evening.

  “Lord Lathrop is too young to be thought a proper escort for a ball of the magnitude of Lady Warwick’s. Anyone who is anyone will be there,” he had argued. “Moreover, I made a promise to Lord Powell, and I will not shun my duty to the marquess’s family.”

  Even so, he and Jocelyn had exchanged no more than a dozen pleasantries during the evening. James simply did not know what to say to her. How did one tell another of his deepest regrets for not observing the obvious?

  Wednesday was a day for packing. They had agreed to depart on Thursday. While the others supposedly dealt with last-minute shopping and business meetings, James had spent a good portion of the day making a list of his fondest memories of a young Jocelyn, the woman he knew before her father had made Jocelyn the property of Lord Lathrop. James was convinced the means to bring Joy back to him was hidden in those memories. He just needed to discover it.

  * * *

  “Mother and Constance insist upon traveling in the smaller carriage, my lord,” Lathrop explained when James stepped down before Powell House twelve days before Christmas.

  James knew disappointment, but he pretended to shrug off the slight. “It is very kind of your mother to consider our comfort.”

  Jocelyn emerged from the house, appearing more than a bit self-conscious. “We are prepared to depart, Lord Hough,” she announced without looking directly at him.

  “Then we should be off,” he said in congenial tones he did not feel. James was becoming quite irritated with the zigzag progress of their relationship. “My lady,” he bowed casually before catching her hand and placing it on his arm, so he might escort her to Lathrop’s carriage. “Are you excited to return to Powell Manor, ma’am?”

  “In truth, a bit anxious. It has been so long,” she admitted reluctantly. He recognized the flash of memory crossing her features. The last time she had been at Powell Manor, they had experienced a brief encounter.

  He turned to support her step into the carriage. “If Powell Manor intimidates you, I pray you follow the forest path to Hough House for a respite.” The same path upon which they had met some twenty years prior.

  She settled in her seat upon the bench before responding. “If anything in Yorkshire frightens me more than does Powell Manor, it is the prospect of viewing Hough House and
all the promise it once held, but this journey is important for Andrew and Michael fully to claim their positions in Society, as well as to know family.”

  James wondered what would happen when she learned he and Powell meant for her to reside in the same house she wished to avoid.

  “And you would endure anything to satisfy this dream for your children?” he whispered.

  “I would,” she said simply and sat back into the squabs.

  * * *

  “Michael?” James asked when Lathrop closed the carriage door behind him, enclosing just the two of them.

  Jocelyn’s eldest nervously adjusted his waistcoat. “I hope you do not mind. I told my brother I wished to speak to you alone.”

  James smiled knowingly. “And I will relish the opportunity to speak privately with you.” At least Jocelyn’s son had inherited what remained of her backbone.

  “I suspected as such,” Lathrop said with a hard swallow. It was all James could do not to laugh: a backbone that bends easily.

  James responded with more calm than he felt, “Perhaps I might save you some uncomfortable moments. You wish to know my intentions toward your mother.”

  Lathrop appeared a bit shamefaced. “Something of that nature. Mother says you have been friends since childhood, but I have often observed your whispering together, and, afterwards, she appears upset.”

  James chuckled in remembrance. “Lady Lathrop’s voice rises in pitch when she attempts to disguise her pique, does it not?”

  Lathrop’s shoulders relaxed. “Michael and I always knew when we did something to distress her, even if mother assured us the vase we broke was not an expensive one.”

  “I notice you refer to Lady Jocelyn as mother.” James said pointedly. “Where the lady called her parents the less formal mama and papa.”

  “My father would never have tolerated—” Lathrop broke off, glancing out the window before reclaiming his composure. “The previous Lord Lathrop knew a difficult taskmaster,” the young gentleman said through stiff lips, “in the form of my grandfather. Mother says father never permitted himself informality for such would lead to disorder.”

  From what James had observed, the late Lord Lathrop also did not permit his wife or his children any gaiety. However, James chose not to press Lathrop further at this point. The young man needed to have his say, and then they could build a relationship, if on nothing else, the fact they both loved Lathrop’s mother.

  “I did not mean to pry, but I thank you for your candidness. Your honest expression of concern for your mother speaks well of Lady Jocelyn’s influence upon your upbringing.”

  A less than comfortable silence passed between them. James frowned. Their conversation was not going as he planned. Finally, with a gruff laugh, he surrendered to the situation. “Your earnestness requires a like response from me.” A quick sigh escaped before he confided, “I have loved your mother for more years than I can name.”

  “And does she return your affections? She was devoted to my father during his lifetime.” Lord Lathrop stated with emphasis on the opinion of his mother’s affections for his father. “Perhaps Mother’s pique of late indicates she does not hold similar feelings. If that is the case, my lord, despite your kindness to me and my family, I must insist you abandon what appears to be an unwanted pursuit.”

  The speculative look Lathrop presented James said the young man knew nothing of the complexity involved in male-female relationships. It also said Jocelyn had never fully disclosed her feelings for her husband to their children. With regret, he realized she had spoken little of her affection, or lack thereof, of Lathrop to him. Was it possible Jocelyn had learned to love Harrison Lathrop with the same fervor he and she had once shared? The idea shook James’s confidence, but he made himself say, “I assure you Lady Jocelyn held me in affection. We often spoke of a future together.” He held up his hand to stifle Lathrop’s next question. “I was prepared to approach Lord Powell to request Lady Jocelyn’s hand, but as we were both underage at the time, we expected to be told we must wait, at a minimum, until I reached my majority. Unfortunately, when our desires became known, I was informed by my father of a contract between the Highcliffe family and that of the Connicks. I was betrothed to Lady Louisa Connick from the day of her birth. I held no choice but to follow my father’s edicts.”

  “And now you expect my mother to take up where you two left off?” Lathrop charged.

  Where they left off was not the day James had told her of his engagement to Louisa; it was another day, when they had held each other as only lovers do. It was a day—an image—that had sustained him throughout his long, dreary marriage to Louisa.

  “If you ask will I force my attentions on Lady Jocelyn, I will not, but it is my wish finally to claim her as my wife.”

  “Have you made your wish clear, my lord? Is my mother agreeable to your pursuit?” Lathrop insinuated.

  “I have. And before you ask, our whispered conversations are a mixture of longing and denial and accusations, but not an expulsion. In spite of the fact Lady Jocelyn fears to believe my regard is true, she has not asked me to desist. Until that time, I will attempt to persuade her to choose me a second time.”

  * * *

  After spending the Sabbath at an inn, they arrived at Powell Manor late on the fourth day of the journey. He assumed young Lathrop relayed James’s wishes to Jocelyn, for she never shared the coach with him. The second day he shared his carriage with Michael and Constance; he spent the third day with Michael and Lathrop, and the final day with Jocelyn’s eldest again. James’s frustration rose because the Lathrops obviously had discussed him, but he had not been permitted his share of the conversation. How could he change Jocelyn’s mind if they were never together?

  As they rolled to a stop before her brother’s manor, James was certain Jocelyn would blame him for not informing her of measles at Powell Manor and would view the offer of residence at Hough House as part of a plan of manipulation executed by him. It bothered him some of her accusations would accurately find a target, but what was a man in love to do? Therefore, he placed a look of innocence upon his face before stepping down from his carriage to discover Lord Powell awaiting them on the manor’s steps. “Ah, I see you made good time,” Powell said with a bow to James.

  “The roads were exceptionally fine for this time of year,” James said in greeting as the others gathered behind him. “At least, until yesterday evening.”

  “Does the manor appear as you remembered it?” Constance asked as Jocelyn stared up at the grey stone facade.

  “Very much,” Jocelyn said with a heavy sigh.

  Lady Constance laced her arm through Jocelyn’s. “Come. It is cold and damp, and we are already exhausted by the journey. Let us go inside.”

  “I fear you cannot,” Lord Powell announced when his daughter started forward. “We have a number of cases of measles within. Such is the reason Lavinia and I made an early exodus from London.”

  Lady Constance demanded, “Why was I not consulted? Surely I shall appear the fool for attending London’s entertainments while my family suffered.”

  Powell countered, “Neither your mother nor I wished to expose you to the illness. Moreover, your performance on the harp was hailed a high point of the Season by those who heard you. The news sheets claim you a diamond in the rough. We could not deny you such renown when you could not prove a nurse for any of those suffering inside. You have never known the illness and would not be permitted in the sick room.”

  “My brothers and sisters?” Lady Constance pleaded.

  “Only Myles has seen the disease to date. We have had no new cases for three days. If the illness runs its course, all should be clear shortly after Christmas day.”

  Jocelyn’s features shifted into a deep frown. “And what of us? And of Edward? The local inn cannot house us for an extended stay. We cannot think of a return to Kent for several days. The roads are becoming too treacherous for tired horses.”

  Powell nodded his u
nderstanding. “Such is the reason I pleaded with Hough to open his house to you and Edward and mother if the disease was not quickly held in check. I am pleased his lordship was so amenable.”

  “Mother means to attend us?” Lady Jocelyn asked, tears forming in her eyes.

  “Naturally,” Powell said gently. “Her ladyship prefers to be with her family in Yorkshire at Christmastide.”

  Lathrop gently tugged his mother closer to comfort her before questioning what evidently Jocelyn had not thought to inquire. “May I ask, Uncle, when Lord Hough learned of measles at Powell Manor?”

  James held the young man’s gaze, refusing to be intimidated while Lord Powell responded. “I pressed Lord Hough into service the day I departed London.”

  “Nearly a fortnight,” Lathrop said in triumph.

  James looked on as what her son had learned registered with Jocelyn. She stiffened and glared at James.

  “Do not criticize Hough,” Lord Powell said in practiced authority. “It was my decision to keep this unfortunate event a secret. I executed my ploy because I wished my only daughter her moment of glory. Moreover, I wished my dearest sister and her sons to return to those who love them, and I wished my aging mother to know peace in viewing her children together again in the family home.”

  “But we would be intruding on Lord Hough’s hospitality,” Jocelyn argued.

  “You know I would enjoy the company. Sebastian and Meredith will be happy to spend time with Lady Constance, your sons, and Lord Edward, rather than simply be with their father. My mother and Aunt Mary. are already in residence to oversee Meredith’s comportment; therefore, Lady Powell will have company when she is not spending time with you.”

  “And what of you, my lord?” she pressed.

  James shrugged off the question. “I have been in London for nearly six weeks, I imagine my desk is covered in correspondence. I have an estate to run, my lady.”

  “It appears we have few choices, but I shan’t be happy until we can return to Powell Manor,” Lathrop repeated in defiance. The boy reminded James of both him and Powell. They often argued against what they considered to be injustices. They had learned better when they each claimed their peerages. Perhaps Lathrop will not be so singular when he takes over the viscountcy.