Free Marissa Day by The Surrender of Lady Jane

his plate of kippers and coddled eggs.
    Jane did not consider John Conroy attractive, as she knew some ladies did, but even she had to admit he had a pleasant voice. The combination of his Welsh and Irish ancestries gave his words depth and musicality.
    “Very well, thank you.” Jane nibbled at the corner of her toast. She now regretted taking so much food. It would make a quick retreat more difficult.
    “And how did you like Lady Darnley’s rout? A dreadful crush, I thought.” Conroy’s eyes sparkled with all the suppressed glee of the unrepentant gossip. Jane found her dislike deepening by a fraction of an inch.
    She sipped her coffee to buy time while she framed a diplomatic and empty answer. “Lady Darnley’s parties are always excellent. I think the duke enjoyed himself.”
    “I believe you are correct. Did you hear anything of interest?”
    Jane’s shoulders stiffened. Conroy stirred two lumps of sugar into his cup, tasted it, and added a third, but all the time, he managed to still eye her keenly. Was he looking for a sign that he had flustered her? Nonsense. Why would he do so?
    She sliced off another portion of her chop. “I don’t know what you mean, sir.” He was very quick on the uptake, was Captain Conroy. This should inform him she was no fishwife to chatter with anyone who came within earshot.
    Conroy, however, did not seem prepared to take the hint. “Come, come.” He set his cup down on its saucer with a clink. “Our mistress asked you to bring her the news did she not?”
    Jane frowned, feeling somewhat caught out. She had been so consumed by her tryst with Sir Thomas, she had nearly forgotten the reason she was sent to Lady Darnley’s ball to begin with. That was inexcusable for a confidential companion to one of the royal family.
    “Surely you cannot expect me to tell you before I speak to Her Grace,” she replied coolly. “Much less require me to speak when I have not been given permission.”
    “Very good, Lady Jane.” Conroy raised his coffee cup to her in salute, quite ignoring her frown. “Your discretion does you credit.”
    “Do you mean to test me, sir?”
    “I pray you, take no offense. It is only that I have been in the duke’s service for a long time, and the situation at court is so very . . . changeable these days. You can understand, I’m sure, how important it is that we who serve be kept abreast of any turn of event that might affect our households.”
    Jane studied Conroy’s face. His countenance was open and his blue eyes seemingly free of guile. Perhaps she had been mistaken. She had been so concerned of late with keeping her own position secure, she might have succumbed to one of the most common diseases of the courtier—suspicion of other courtiers.
    “I do understand, Captain,” she said. “And I will be happy to speak with you on any subject, after I have spoken with Her Grace.”
    “Again, your discretion is greatly to your credit, but, Lady Jane, strictly between ourselves . . .” He glanced meaningfully toward the door before he leaned forward, planting his elbow on the table. “Is it not the case that sometimes those born to the highest positions lack, shall we say, a certain practicality? It is no fault of theirs, of course. Their attention is occupied by weightier matters. It is for us to apply our efforts toward smoothing their paths, and anticipating their needs.” He smiled again. “And naturally, nothing must disturb Her Grace at this time. Any agitation could prove injurious to her health.”
    Now she felt the full weight of his smooth and plausible charm. Felt it, and dismissed it. Jane laid down her knife and fork and met his frank gaze with all the steel she could muster. “What do you want from me, Captain Conroy?”
    “Lady Jane, from your tone it might be thought you suspect me of some intrigue! I want only to serve the duke to the best of my abilities. Now that he is married, this includes guarding and guiding his wife as best I