Page 57 of The Colonel's Ungovernable Governess
The boy nodded his gratitude. “Are there additional instructions for her care?”
Vincent sounded so mature, even though his voice was still a bit squeaky. The idea touched Jocelyn’s heart. She would never have chosen the chaos of this last week as a “teaching” moment, but now that she was on the mend, she was glad to view the boy’s new “confidence.”
Harwell said, “Between your diligence and Mrs. Darcy’s care, I believe it will only be a matter of a few weeks before Miss Lambert can return to her duties.” The man placed his instruments in his bag. “I will call again tomorrow.” He bowed to the boy and then to her. “Nothing too strenuous, but a few steps, say five or six times daily. Your legs suffered only a few cuts. They will support you. However, you must make adjustments in your gait, for a person’s arms assist in balancing his or her manner of walking.” He turned to the boy. “You are challenged with clearing a path for her. No loose carpets or protruding chair legs. Nothing over which she might stumble. For the time being, she has only one arm to prevent her fall.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Although it is not my place to suggest,” the man continued, “it seems to me your sisters might assist you with all the changes going on about you, my lord.”
“They are stubborn,” the boy declared.
“And you are the earl. It is the earldom which provides for them. For their food and clothing and what not.” With that, the man was gone.
Jocelyn said with a knowing smile, “You might ‘insist’ they call.”
* * *
It had been four days since he had departed Yorkshire. Although he had expected to overtake Jennings by now, he had not. The man had left behind all those he considered an encumbrance. Late yesterday, Edward had discovered Marksham’s mother and the young man’s brother and sister near Norfolk. Jennings had abandoned them, and not knowing where to turn, the woman had sought assistance from the local sheriff, who had placed her in a small boarding house room with her two younger children, in anticipation of Lord Marksham retrieving her.
“How long ago did Philip Jennings abandon you?” Edward asked, when he and the sheriff called upon the woman.
Lady Marksham looked cautiously to the sheriff before she responded. “Five in the morning. I woke and they were gone. No word beforehand.”
“And they were traveling to . . . ?” the colonel asked. He was fully aware of the lengths to which Jennings would go to escape.
“My sister did not say,” the woman claimed.
“I see.” Edward picked up his gloves and turned to the sheriff. “Mr. Jennings is passing himself off as his late brother. He has stolen from the earldom, and, I imagine also from the lady’s husband, Lord Marksham. I have captured her eldest son, who attempted to kill the current Lord Babcock. Mr. Marksham has testified that Jennings asked him to do harm to the late Lord Babcock’s son in exchange for protection of his mother and siblings.”
“No offense meant in my asking,” the sheriff questioned, “but how come you to be following these people?”
Edward thought, “It is time to toss in the appropriate names of the aristocracy.”
“My brother, Lord Lindale, is married to the late Lord Babcock’s widow and is stepfather to the young earl and the boy’s two sisters. As my brother and Lady Lindale were away from home, enjoying the sea air on Guernsey, along with our parents, Lord and Lady Matlock of Derbyshire, I was overseeing the children’s daily activities, along with their governess, in their parents’ absence. Unfortunately, while I was tending to my duties to our dear King George as a colonel in the British Army, Jennings lured his eldest niece home with the purpose of being rid of the young earl when the boy gave pursuit. All, including me, converged on the Yorkshire manor housing the family seat, for we suspected something was afoot. Now, that Jennings has made a failed attempt on harming the young earl, he is hoping to escape to Europe. Such is the reason I have been trailing him along our coastline. He has sought a ship to take on seven passengers. Now, with his abandonment of Lady Marksham, he only requires one who will take on two adults and two children. Much easier to find.”
“What should I do with the lady and her children, sir?” the man asked.
“Generally, I would be less severe, but as Lady Marksham and her eldest have willingly participated in this venture, they should be detained until all this can be sorted out by the proper authorities,” he instructed. “My brother and my father will stand the cost of detaining her, rather than placing the burden on your citizenry.”
“That be mighty fine of you, sir. I’ll see to it,” the man declared.
“My husband is a baron,” the woman protested.
“A baron who has taken up with another woman, rather than to maintain his marriage, and who has planned to request a divorce before the House of Lords. This escapade will assist Marksham in his plea. There will be no reason to drag your son’s paternity through the muddy waters of a public divorce. Mr. Marksham has attempted to murder an earl of the realm. Lord Marksham will know shame, but he has no need to destroy his own ancestral lines in such a public manner. Your actions to assist Philip Jennings, at all cost, will prove Lord Marksham’s claim that your eldest belongs to Jennings.” As he dug in his inside pocket for a card, Edward said, “I must continue my search and return to my duties to the King.” He handed the sheriff the card. “All expenses may be addressed to my father.”
“I will see it done, sir. I hope you find the man soon.”
“As do I. I am not of the nature to relish the idea of following the man to Europe. I saw enough of both America and Europe in service to the King to last me a lifetime. Gratefully, your harbormaster assures me I am most likely to discover Jennings in Kent. I will start with Dover.” With that, he left the sheriff at the boarding house and mounted his waiting horse. At least Kent was familiar ground. “Keep Miss Lambert safe, God. I mean to return to the lady when this madness ends.”
* * *
“I have a letter from the colonel,” Mr. Darcy said when he entered her room through the adjoining door. Another two days had passed, and Jocelyn had worried much in regards to the man. Mrs. Darcy had been assisting the girls with their drawing lessons. Though she claimed not to be much of an artist, the woman was quite talented, more so than was Jocelyn. Yet, like her, Mrs. Darcy’s talents rested in depictions of nature and furniture and architectural features. No portraits. Earlier, Mrs. Darcy and the girls had gathered leaves and flowers to practice their sketching skills. Meanwhile, Jocelyn had been assisting Lord Vincent with his Latin conjugations.
Initially, Ladies Annabelle and Victoria had ignored their brother’s “request” to make their apologies to “Miss Lambert.” The girls had stubbornly refused, meaning Lady Annabelle had refused, and Lady Victoria had followed suit. However, they had no true concept of “stubbornness,” for Vincent had taken Mr. Harwell’s advice, quite literally. The boy had ordered all their clothes and personal items removed from Annabelle’s and Victoria’s suites, which was followed by a second order that no food was to be delivered to his sisters and no servants were to respond to the girls’ pleas for attendance. The young ladies held out for a little over twenty-four hours before making their apologies. However sincere they were, Jocelyn did not know, but the two had learned a lesson that would go far in society.
As for her own folly, Jocelyn had forgotten that particular lesson: Her parents had only acted in a manner they thought would be best for her.
They all paused to listen to Mr. Darcy’s report. Vincent had climbed down from the bed where they had been working together. “What is the news, sir? Has the colonel found my uncle?” the child asked.
