Page 101 of Yours Truly, the Duke
Her curiosity plunged as Jane walked into the room with all the confident aplomb she always managed. Her skirts swirled and her fringed reticule bounced against her summer-blue pelisse.
Startled to see her cousin, Fredericka couldn’t say or do anything. Her whole body went rigid. She hadn’t seen Jane since the day she took the children away more than a month ago.
“Silence isn’t what I expected between the two of you,” Wyatt said, giving his attention to his wife. “It took me more than a couple of visits with Jane to convince her to come over.”
“What for?” Fredericka asked tightly.
“It’s time you two made peace for the good of Charles, Bella, and Elise. She’s made the first step in agreeing to see you.”
“Peace?” Jane asked in her usual pleasant way. “We’re not at war. As you can see, we’re not even speaking.”
Fredericka remained quiet. She only wanted Jane to leave. Her cousin had never brought her anything but heartache.
“I want that to change between you,” Wyatt said. “You both need to put the past behind you.”
That wasn’t going to happen. Fredericka cleared her throat and breathed in deeply.
“You are family,” Wyatt continued. “The children ask about Jane and want to see her. It’s time to mend your fences, once and for all.”
“I don’t know if I can,” Fredericka replied, remembering the afternoon Jane and the constable took the children away.
“I understand completely,” Jane said, walking closer to Fredericka. “I’m not here because the duke asked me to come today, and I’m not asking for anything from you. I agreed to come because I have something to give you.”
Fredericka looked at Wyatt. He shrugged and lightly shook his head. He had no idea what it was. Fredericka remained stiff and wary.
Jane opened her reticule and pulled out a multitude of scraps of parchment, foolscap, and vellum and extended the handful toward Fredericka.
Remembering the last time Jane pulled that stunt, Fredericka scoffed, “I am not interested in old gossip sheets. It’s time for you to leave.”
To Fredericka’s surprise, Jane walked closer and gaveher one of her prettiest smiles. “It’s poetry, my dear. Yours.”
Fredericka’s gaze flew to Wyatt. “Poetry” wasn’t a word they said in this house. He shrugged again, indicating he didn’t know what was going on, but he nodded for her to take the papers.
Still, she hesitated. “Mine?” Fredericka asked, wondering what mischief her cousin might be up to.
“It’s the gibberish you wrote when you were a little girl.” Jane cleared her throat and lifted her chin in a toffee-nosed way before continuing. “Poetry you used to write and give to me and Angela as a way to get our attention. Most of it has our names on it, so you’ll know which was for me, which I’m sure you’ll want to throw away, and what you wrote to your sister. Perhaps, you’ll keep those.”
Fredericka couldn’t move. Her cousin, who had reviled her as an annoying little girl and a nuisance, had kept her poetry? Wyatt walked over, took the pages from Jane, and handed them to Fredericka. She looked down at them. Her heart felt as if it might beat out of her chest. Jane was right. It was Fredericka’s poetry. She recognized the flowers, hearts, and curlicues she’d drawn at the bottom of the pages, and her very fancy F to begin her name.
“Where did you, how did you, get them?”
“Well, from you, of course. You gave them to us two and three times a week during the dead of winter when there was nothing much to do. After we read them, we’d throw them into a box. We didn’t read them again that I remember, but you were our sister, and we didn’t want to throw them away. I left the box at my parents’ home when I married and came across them when I was sortingthrough other things. I should have given them to you then. But you know me. I never found the time to bring them to you. Perhaps you’ll only want to burn them anyway. They weren’t very good.”
It was so like Jane to get in that last remark. Fredericka could never destroy her own childhood. She would treasure each one. This was the best peace offering Jane could have brought her. She loved having this remembrance of her childhood to read again, savor, and keep with her forever.
She looked at Jane, standing as tall, proud, and confident as always. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Nothing, of course,” she answered. “That’s always best. Perhaps this will make up to you for the way Angela and I always ran away from you when we were nothing but silly girls ourselves. Just older.”
Yes. It did. “I can’t believe you kept them when you hated me.”
“Hated you?” Her eyes held steady on Fredericka’s. “What an awful word. You should know I’m not capable of hating anyone. Especially not family.”
Fredericka was astounded by her comment.
“You wereourlittle sister. I always claimed you, even when it made Angela mad. We both loved you, Fredericka. We may not have wanted you around, listening to our conversations, and being obnoxious with your shrill little voice and demanding ways, but we loved you. Don’t be ridiculous.”
Fredericka couldn’t believe how truthful Jane sounded.
