The Last of Lady Lansdown Read Online Free PDF Page B

lovely fact seemed very real, and each time she thought of it, she wanted to shout, “Hurrah!” Naturally, she did nothing of the sort, even though thoughts of all the good things resulting from the earl’s demise kept popping into her head. No longer would she be obliged to endure the earl’s constant belittling criticism. No longer his little cruelties, like selling her horse and forbidding her to go riding. Such a relief! Thank you, God . She kept her feelings to herself, though, and went about her business with a solemn, unsmiling demeanor, doing her best to act the part of the grieving widow.
    Now, standing before her mirror in her bedchamber, she examined her pale face and remarked, “Absolutely not my color.” The black bombazine dress trimmed with black crepe gave her a ghostlike, pallid look. “I would look bad no matter what I wore.” She heaved a sigh. “Now, if I can just get through the funeral tomorrow ...”
    Mama and Granny sat watching. “It doesn’t matter if black is your color or not,” said Mama. “Now, hurry up. Sir Archibald is coming. Beatrice wants us all to meet in the library.”
    Jane rolled her eyes at the thought of having to deal with the earl’s long-time solicitor, a man she considered stuffy and opinionated. She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead in an overdramatic way. “Tell him I am overcome with grief and cannot attend. You and Granny go hear what he has to say.”
    “Jane, I do not care for your attitude. Don’t think it hasn’t escaped my notice you are not exactly heartbroken over the death of your husband.”
    “Why should she be?” Granny sat resting her chin on the top of her cane, her sharp eyes assessing her daughter. “Are you daft, Amelia? The earl was an arrogant, mean-spirited, nasty excuse for a man. Nobody liked him. Everyone is glad he’s dead.”
    “That’s not so. Some of the best families in England will be represented at the funeral tomorrow. People are coming from far and wide to pay their respects.”
    “Hypocrites, every last one of them,” Granny replied. “Although you won’t think so when you see them all dressed up in their black mourning outfits, weeping and wailing over a pompous ass who had a heart the size of a pea.”
    “It is not proper to disparage the dead.” Mama’s voice did not carry much enthusiasm, no doubt because it was hard to argue with the truth. “Oh, Jane.” She heaved a troubled sigh. “Whether you loved the earl or not is beside the point. We haven’t talked about it yet, but have you given a thought to our future? His lordship is not in his grave yet, and already Beatrice has summoned the solicitor. Who would have thought Chatfield Court would ever be hers? But now it will be. No doubt she wants to know how soon she can turn us out. I so loved it here, and now we will have to leave.” Mama’s eyes dampened. “Oh why did the earl have to die? It is so unfair!”
    Jane put a comforting arm around her mother’s shoulders. “We are going to be fine. Really, I can hardly blame my dear sister-in-law. Don’t forget, the Eltons moved in here after the first countess died and Beatrice pretty much ran the place. I’m sure she still thinks of Chatfield Court as her own. Now just think, after all these years she’s gotten her wish. Her husband is the new earl. She’s the new Lady Lansdown. I would wager she’s hard pressed to keep from doing a jig on the front lawn.”
    “We will have nothing,” Mama wailed.
    “That is not true and you know it.” In all the turmoil since Arthur died, Jane took solace in the thought that she and her family would be well provided for. “I will have the dower house, won’t I? Plus some income? As I recall, a widow normally receives a third of the income from her husband’s estate. We’ll have plenty. So what is there to worry about?”
    Granny sniffed.
    Mama shifted her gaze away, a sure sign something wasn’t right. “There might be a few things to worry