"Not at all, dear heart. It's Charles Fitzsimmons, with his older daughter and his son-in-law. They're richer than God, or so I hear." She paused, waiting to hear how Phillip would respond.

"So I hear," he said neutrally. "What are they doing here?"

"The old gaffer's in town to announce some new venture for the family business. Meeting with bankers and other people in the industry."

"About what?"

"I guess his brilliant son-in-law came up with the idea to branch out into exports/imports, using the family ships or something. It's very big news. Very big, if you're interested in that sort of thing."

Phillip frowned. "But . . . 'twas Jane's idea."

"What was?"

"Nothing." He had no desire to get into a discussion of his wife's business acumen. Clutching his glass, he surreptitiously eyed his in-laws, knowing he had to go introduce himself. The people in attendance who knew his relationship to the Fitzsimmonses had to be circling like sharks, waiting to watch the meeting. With great reluctance, he started across the room.

Proper etiquette required that he ask the hostess, or someone else who knew the Fitzsimmonses, to make an introduction. Since he could think of no way to tell Lady Milton that he'd never met his in-laws without creating a huge wave of gossip, he walked purposively and stepped in front of Charles, acting as though they had always known each other. He gave a polite bow.

"Sir, please excuse my forward behavior, but I couldn't wait to make your acquaintance. I am Phillip Wessington."

"Wessington?"

Charles Fitzsimmons eyed him for several seconds, looking perplexed, as though the name was familiar but he couldn't quite place it. God's teeth, the man had recently handed over his daughter, plus tens of thousands of pounds, and he couldn't recall the name of the man to whom he'd given it all! He added acerbically, "Jane's husband."

"Oh, Wessington. Yes." The man extended a hand, giving Phillip's a hearty shake, but oddly, his eyes were nervously scanning the surrounding crowd.

Phillip said, "It's good to meet you, sir."

"And you, my boy. And you." He cleared his throat. "Is . . . ah . . . is Jane with you?"

"No. She's retired to one of my country estates."

"Yes . . . well . . . pity we'll miss her," Fitzsimmons said, though he didnat look saddened by the fact at all. He looked greatly relieved. "May I introduce Jane's sister, Gertrude?"

"Madam." Phillip bowed over her hand, and Gertrude curtsied politely enough, but the look she gave him was one of complete distaste.

Charles continued. "And your brother-in-law, Gregory Fitzsimmons."

Gregory had paled, as though he'd just received a great shock. "You're Jane's husband?"

' 'That's what the minister said at the end of the ceremony," Phillip responded sarcastically.

"I meant no offense, sir. I'm just surprised. We had heard she'd married an Earl, but..." Gregory couldn't find the words to express his shock at the handsome, virile nobleman standing in front of him. He'd pictured Jane's husband as some frumpy, balding, obese fellow. Not this man! He cleared his throat and adjusted his cravat which suddenly felt much too tight. "Jane is very much like a beautiful jewel. I hope you realize what a gem you have in your possession."

"I assure you, I do," Phillip said, as Gertrude glared at Gregory with incredible malice. Phillip looked from father to daughter to son-in-law and felt a stab of compassion for Jane. How had she managed to remain so vibrant and unsullied after spending her life around these people?

Although he didnat mean it in the least, he felt obligated to say, "I'd like to invite you to dine with me while you're in London."

"I'm sorry, Wessington," Charles said, "but we're leaving for Portsmouth tomorrow."

"What a pity we'll not get to know one another better." Phillip sighed with relief. A dreadful evening avoided!

"I should like to speak with you, though. Privately. Do you know this house? Is there some place where we could talk?"

"Yes," Phillip answered, motioning down a hallway. "The library is this way."

When they would have followed, a look from Charles kept Gregory and Gertrude rooted in their places. Phillip silently led the way and ushered the man into a room, then poured each of them a glass of brandy.

"I don't usually indulge in spirits," Charles mentioned as he accepted the glass. "Dulls the mind, you know? But I believe I will just this once."

The more words the man spoke, the happier Phillip was that he wasn't going to have to socialize with him. He never trusted a fellow who didnat drink. For the first time, he noticed that the older gentleman seemed uncomfortable. He was sweating profusely, his cheeks red and overheated. "Are you feeling all right, sir?"

"I've felt a bit under the weather all day." Fitzsimmons tugged at his collar. "Probably the excitement of seeing Gregory's plan put into action. And the stress of being away from home. Never did like to travel." I understand."

"So, how is Jane?"

"Fine," Phillip lied. No way would he tell his father-in-law that he hadn't talked to her in three months.

"The wedding went off without a hitch?"

"Yes."

"And the money? The transfer was satisfactory?"

"Certainly."

Charles took out a kerchief and began mopping his brow, feeling more discomfort by the moment. "I've a bit of a confession to make."

"What is it, sir?"

"When I required Jane to wed, I did it to force her out of the family business."

"Why was that necessary?"

"Well, she was so capable, you see, and so interested. I'd let her dally at it for years, and I have to admit, I'd come to rely on her. But my years at the helm are coming to a close, and I simply couldn't have her continue. I expect she'd have wanted to take charge."

Phillip couldn't help but marvel at how protective he felt of Jane at hearing of her being manipulated by this pompous ass. He knew the answer, but asked anyway just to irritate the older man, "Why couldn't she?"

"Because she's a female, of course." Charles looked at him as though he were the thickest man alive.

"Of course," Phillip responded dryly.

"I've no sons, so I've been grooming Gregory for years to take over when I retire. I occasionally had my doubts about his capabilities, but with his new plans for expansion, I see that I was right all along."

"And you're certain Gregory's the man, are you?"

"His plan is brilliant. Simply brilliant."

"Well, good for you. I'm sure Jane will be glad to hear of it."

"Her thoughts on the matter are neither here nor there." Charles shrugged. "What I want is a commitment from you."

"In what regard?"

"When I commanded Jane to find herself a husband, I promised her that, if she carried out my wishes, she could return home after spending six months adjusting to her new life. Perhaps she's mentioned it?"

"Yes, a time or two."

"I figured six months would be plenty of time for her to find herself with child, and her maternal duties would then overwhelm her. Working on that situation, are you?"

Phillip felt himself blushing. The audacity of the man! "Is there a point here, sir?"

"Of course, there's a point. You'll not let her return, will you?"

"No. I've no intention of allowing her to return." He'd do everything in his power to see that she was never put upon by these dreadful people again.

"Good. Good. I'll not let her back. I'm sorry to strap you with the problem, but she's very headstrong and used to getting her own way. My fault, I suppose. I always indulged her." He took a long sip of the brandy, then coughed ferociously.

Fitzsimmons's pallor seemed to have increased with each passing moment. Phillip was actually becoming alarmed. "Are you certain you're all right?"

"Perhaps if I just sit down for a bit" He moved as though to step to the chair, then stopped. With a puzzled look, he gasped for breath then collapsed to the floor For pity's sake, Fitzsimmons! What are you about?" Phillip rushed to the hall to call for help.

Chapter Sixteen.

Jane leaned back against the chair and raised her hands over her head in a long stretch. It felt good to be working so hard, to be doing things that were so necessary.

Although she'd never imagined it at the time of her marriage, she was needed at Rosewood. The people who lived and worked at the estate, along with those in the surrounding villages who depended on the solvency of the properties for their welfare and incomes, welcomed her attention and management. And, much to her surprise, she found that she needed them; their support, interest and respect were touching and overwhelming.

With Richard's careful guidance and shrewd suggestions, everything was falling into place. Within five years, they'd be far into the black, and within ten, the estate would, once again, be one of the most productive in England.

There was a strange, unexpected satisfaction in accomplishing so much. People from the village were returning to work. In a very short time, she'd begun providing gainful employment for so many, helping them feed their families, and people were grateful, thankful for the efforts she'd made on their behalf.

Curiously, she'd never felt such gratification while working for her father. Because she was a female, the men actually building the ships were kept far away from her. Her contact had been mostly with the accountants and the clerks working in the offices. All of them had been polite, helpful, but none of them had ever looked to her with thanks in their eyes for putting bread on their table.

And her father . . . Over the years, she'd thought he appreciated her help, that he welcomed her assistance and cherished her for her abilities, but now, upon looking back, there hadn't been much pride in his attitude toward her.

The Fitzsimmons Shipworks was her life. It was her future. Her birthright, but for the first time ever, she felt no joy in the thought of returning to it. With a twinge of regret, she noticed on the calendar that her possible departure for Portsmouth could come in as soon as two months. Then what? What if she went home? To Father, with his harsh, demanding ways. To Gertrude, with her cruel, hurtful words. To Gregory, who would once again begin pressuring her to do something she now knew was wrong and impossible.

Better to stay at Rosewood, except that she wasn't sure she belonged here either. If Emily's attitude was any indication, she never would. The girl simply was not warming to her in any sense. While Jane's original plan had been to leave her alone while she came to terms with her father's marriage, she was now having second thoughts.

With everything else running so smoothly, it was time to take the matter in hand. However, if she couldn't even get the girl to sit down for a chat, how could she ever dress her appropriately or calm her manners?

Closing the account book in front of her, she looked up just as Meg stepped into the room. Meg had truly blossomed in the warm, country sunshine. Her skin was tan and healthy looking, her red hair radiant from the time spent outdoors. Jane smiled. "Ah, just the person 1 was looking for."

She carried a large basket of fresh-cut flowers which she began arranging. "I picked these myself. What do you think?"

"They're lovely. All my favorites."

"What di you wish to see me about?" Meg asked casually as she worked at the bouquet.

"Well, Graves once mentioned to me that you'd worked previously as a governess."

Meg's fingers stilled, her eyes stared at the desktop. She finally sighed, " Tis true, Jane."

"Di you enjoy it?"

"Well, yes, I did enjoy it." She swallowed hard. "What is it you wish to know?"

"I was wondering if you'd be interested in becoming Emily's governess. She's desperately in need of some guidance and attention. I can't think of anyone who would be better suited."

"Oh, Jane." Meg flushed bright red. "I'm very flattered that you think so highly of me."

"Of course, I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, I'm afraid I wouldn't be the least bit appropriate to guide a young girl to womanhood."

"Nonsense. I can think of no one better."

"But there's something I need to tell you . . ."

Jane leaned forward and wrapped her hand around Meg's. Squeezing tightly, she said quietly, "There's nothing you need to tell me. I've learned everything about you that I need to know, and I don't need to learn one iota more."

Meg raised her eyes to Jane's. "You've known all this time?"

"Graves told me quite awhile ago."

"That rat!"

"He felt he was protecting you. Don't be angry."

"But doesn't it matter? What happened to me?"

"Not a whit."

"I feel so unworthy because of it. You're certain?"

"More certain than I've been of anything in a long time. Emily has been entrusted to my care, and I can't think of anyone I'd rather have helping me watch over her."

"Thank you, Jane." Meg's eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "Thank you so much."

"Does that mean you accept?"

"Yes, I do, but I'd say we've got our hands full."