Free Marissa Day by The Surrender of Lady Jane Page A

may.” Conroy swirled his coffee, watching the currents his agitation created. “We both know how very treacherous the court may be.”
    “A noble sentiment,” Jane replied flatly. “But it does not answer my question.”
    “Very well.” Conroy set his cup down and pushed his chair back. He eyed the door again, but now all his semblance of coy intimacy had vanished. “What do I want? I want to cultivate your friendship, Lady Jane, as is proper for two people who serve in the same house. I want to talk with you about what you learned last night, and anything else you know that could affect the standing of the duke and duchess. Together, we can sort through what we know and decide how we may best serve.”
    “We decide? Not they?”
    “We,” he repeated firmly. “For in looking after the well-being of the duke and duchess, we see to our own, and that well-being may require more forethought than our patrons have been proven to possess.”
    Jane could not tell which troubled her more: that Captain Conroy spoke so frankly, or that she knew how much truth lay in his words. The Duke of Kent was a match for any of his royal brothers when it came to drinking, gambling and wenching. His favorite mistress of the past decade now lived in Paris and drew a comfortable pension despite the fact that his creditors went begging. The duke had said publicly that the only reason he set her aside was for the chance to father the next heir to the throne. What he did not say was that fulfillment of this paternal ambition was sure to bring an increase in his income from parliament, but everyone knew it was in his mind.
    Conroy was a man of intelligence, and ambition, but also a man dependent on his superior for his living. Jane could easily see how a man responsible for managing the duke’s affairs might come to see his duties extend to managing the duke himself. After all, what had she been doing these past weeks but fretting over the safety of her own income?
    Conroy was waiting for her answer, and Jane still had no idea what answer to give. She saw the reasons for what he said, perhaps she even agreed with them in part, but she still did not like this man, especially now that she could see how triumph mixed with the expectation in his demeanor.
    But the door opened and Tilly stepped into the room, saving Jane from having to make any answer.
    “If you please, madame.” Tilly curtsied. “Her Grace is asking for you.”
    “Thank you, Tilly.” Jane got to her feet. “You will excuse me, Captain Conroy?”
    “Of course.” Conroy also stood. “We can resume this conversation at another time.”
    And we will. The words hung unsaid in the air. An unquiet sensation filled Jane’s mind, and she had to work not to scurry from the room.
     
     
    T he Duchess of Kent sat at the window in her heavily ruffled dressing gown, her dark hair piled under a neat white cap, a china cup and saucer in her hands. The smell of warm chocolate mingled with the scent of Frau Seibold’s strengthening tonics and medicinal salves.
    “Ah, Lady Jane, good, good.” The duchess greeted Jane in her expansive German. “Please, you will sit?” She gestured Jane to an embroidered chair. “So, what you heard at the great party of Lady Darnley you will tell me. And, my Jane, you do not spare my feelings. I need to know how the great lords and ladies of England think of me.”
    Captain Conroy’s words about the lack of practicality among their masters came forcefully back to Jane. But as she looked into the duchess’s dark eyes she had the distinct sensation of a sharp intelligence waiting beneath that pretty, mature, rounded face. It reminded her the Duchess of Kent was the sort of woman who was consistently underestimated.
    Choosing her words carefully—for she was certainly about to reach the limits of her German fluency—Jane told the duchess about how all the royal dukes had now rushed into marriage. She detailed the rumor of a feud between the duke and