The Hemingford Scandal. Mary Nichols

the army as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. If she were subjected to pressure, it was more likely to come from her aunt bidding her make haste and accept Donald. She smiled. ‘Rest assured I shall ignore them all,’ she said.

      He lifted her hand to his lips. ‘Then I bid you au revoir, dearest.’ He released her hand and turned to her father and aunt, who had been listening to the exchange with satisfied amusement. ‘Mr Hemingford, Mrs Lane, your obedient.’ And then he was gone, leaving Jane feeling as though a whirlwind had taken her up and whisked her about hither and thither and set her down in a different and unfamiliar place.

      ‘Well,’ her aunt said, as they finished their breakfast, ‘we have a week to kill.’

      ‘It will pass soon enough,’ Mr Hemingford said. ‘I have a mountain of copying for Jane.’

      ‘James Hemingford, you should be ashamed!’ Aunt Lane protested. ‘Working that poor girl as you do. She is young, she needs amusements; besides, we have shopping to do—she must be at her best for Coprise.’

      ‘Oh, Aunt, there is nothing I need. I am sure Mr Allworthy will take me as I am.’

      ‘Oh, so he might,’ her aunt said airily. ‘But he has a house full of servants and it is always wise to impress the servants, particularly if you expect to become their mistress one day. They must respect you, not look on you as someone’s poor relation the master has been so foolish as to take pity on.’

      Was that how her aunt really saw her? A poor relation whom it behoved her to pity? Was that why she had encouraged Mr Allworthy, because no one else would have her? Was she still shackled by the old scandal? But Mr Allworthy had said he admired her, that he paid no attention to gossip and he was a good man, if something of a sobersides. Perhaps that was what she needed.

      ‘I won’t have you saying Jane is a poor relation,’ her father snapped.

      Her aunt laughed. ‘I did not say she was my poor relation, I only meant we did not want Mr Allworthy’s servants to have grounds for criticism. You are a man, you cannot advise the dear girl on her dress, now can you?’

      Jane smiled. ‘Papa, I understood Aunt Lane very well, there is no need to refine upon it. I need very little, you know, just fripperies.’

      ‘Which I can pay for,’ he retorted. ‘Go shopping, buy whatever you need, but never say Jane is to be pitied.’

      And so they went shopping and returned in the early afternoon with Aunt Lane’s carriage seat loaded with parcels and more to be delivered in the coming days, which her aunt had insisted on buying, leaving only a few small things to be set to her father’s account.

      She was sitting on her bed surrounded by them, wondering how she was going to cram all those new clothes into her trunk and if she really needed them, when Hannah came to tell her Anne had arrived.

      Jane tidied her hair and straightened her skirt before going down to the drawing room. Anne was sitting on the sofa, glancing at the latest Ladies’ Magazine when she entered. She was alone. If Jane had nurtured a hope that her friend would be accompanied by Harry, she refused even to acknowledge it, and smiled a welcome. ‘Anne, I am so glad you have come. There is so much to tell you.’ She rang the bell and, when Hannah came, asked her to bring refreshments. ‘I have had an exhausting day.’

      ‘Preparing for your visit to Coprise, I collect,’ Anne said drily.

      ‘Yes.’ Jane chose to ignore her friend’s tone. ‘Aunt Lane has insisted on buying me a whole new wardrobe. I think she must have been thinking she was buying a wedding trousseau.’

      ‘Perhaps she was.’

      ‘No, indeed. I have made no promise. But come upstairs and I will show you.’

      They went up to Jane’s room where the purchases were laid out for her inspection. ‘I had such a job arguing with Aunt about colours and styles,’ she said. ‘But luckily the costumier agreed with me and so I have nothing too outrageous.’

      ‘Jane, are you sure you are not being persuaded into something you do not truly wish for? Once you have been to Coprise Manor, it will be assumed that you will have him. It will be difficult to turn back.’

      ‘I might not want to turn back.’

      ‘But supposing you do? You know nothing about this man or his background.’

      ‘That is what I am going to Coprise to discover. And if I find we do not suit, I shall simply say so.’

      ‘Oh, Jane, surely you are not such a ninny as to think it will be as easy as that? You will never be able to extricate yourself without a dreadful scandal. I am afraid for you.’

      ‘You have no need to be. Aunt Lane will take care of me.’

      Anne felt like weeping. As far as she could see, her friend had been manipulated in the most disgraceful way and she could cheerfully have throttled both Mr Hemingford and Mrs Lane. ‘I wish you happy, I really do, but forgive me if I do not stay to take tea. I think it would choke me.’

      She got up and left Jane surrounded by her new finery, bewildered and tearful. She had only once before quarrelled with Anne and that had been over Harry. And so was this. Anne was like a dog with a bone, but was she right?