Free Elizabeth Mansfield by Miscalculations

you, Mr. Parks." With a sigh Jane rose from the desk. "I told you, didn't I, that you and the rest of the staff needn't call me ma'am?"
    The butler shook his head. "It doesn't seem fitting to call you by your first name. How about... what if we call you Miss Douglas?"
    "If you wish," Jane said, going to the door, "but at Kettering Hall everyone calls me Miss Jane."
    The butler considered the suggestion for a moment. "Very well," he said at last. "Miss Jane it is, then. I'll tell the staff."
    As she hurried down the corridor toward the stairs, Jane reflected on this exchange with the butler. From his manner it seemed as if Lord Kettering had been right in his assessment of her demeanor. He'd implied that her manner was arrogant. And Parks's reaction to using her name seemed to support that view. Yet, if there was really something arrogant in her carriage, why wasn't the staff at Kettering put off by it?
    The butler, following her down the hall, suddenly cut into her thoughts. "I'd take care, Miss Jane, if I was you," he warned.
    She turned to him. 'Take care?"
    "It seemed to me her ladyship was in a real taking."
    "Was she?" She threw the butler a grateful smile. "Thank you, Mr. Parks. I'll take care."
    The smile remained on her face as she ran up the stairs. Parks's warning was the first sign of friendship from the fellow. Perhaps she didn't carry herself like the Queen of all the Russias after all. Perhaps his toplofty lordship was wrong about her.
    But as she approached Lady Martha's bedroom her smile died. What's happened to put her ladyship in a "taking" this time? she wondered as she tapped at the door.
    Responding to a curt summons to come in, Jane stepped inside and discovered that the room was in confusion. The bed was covered with scattered items of clothing, the abigail was busily rolling up pairs of gloves and putting them into a straw bandbox, and her ladyship was sitting at her dressing table, holding a silver-framed miniature in one hand and dabbing at her eyes with the other. "Are you packing?" Jane asked, surprised.
    "Yes," her ladyship said, lowering the little painting to her lap and looking up at Jane, "I've decided to return to Cheshire this very day."
    Jane was appalled. "But, ma'am, you can't! You promised to stay with me for a fortnight at least!"
    "I'm sorry, Jane. It's just... impossible. I cannot abide watching my son dissipate his fortune, as he seems intent on doing. And I dislike living in London. I always have. Too much noise and bustle. I long for home."
    "So do I, your ladyship, so do I." Jane gave her mistress a pained look. "Does that mean nothing to you?"
    Lady Martha, sighing guiltily, dabbed at her eyes again. "I know the sacrifice I'm asking you to make," she admitted.
    Jane was not moved by her mistress's tears. She knew they came easily to Lady Martha. Instead, she felt a wave of anger well up in her. "How is it, ma'am, that you can expect me to keep my word but have no compunction in breaking yours?"
    Her ladyship hung her head. " 'Tis a privilege of age," she muttered.
    "Huh! A privilege of wealth, if we're to be honest."
    Lady Martha's head came up at once. "Save your sharp retorts for my son," she said in reproach. "He needs them more than I do."
    Jane turned away, unwilling to show how upset she was at the prospect of being left in this house without the support of the one person who wanted her there. "It seems you both deserve a sharp tongue," she muttered.
    Lady Martha made a gesture of helplessness. "I'm sorry, my dear. I admit I'm deserting you. But you are so capable and clever. I know you'll manage well. All you need do is show me at the end of the month that he's curbed his gambling and kept his expenses within some sort of reasonable limit. But even if you don't succeed at prodding my son into some sense of responsibility, I'll not blame you. I'm sure you'll have tried your best."
    "I don't need butter-sauce poured over me, ma'am. I need your help."
    "I can give you no help.