PP Non-Canon AU General Regency

A Gentleman's Choice

Sequel to Making Peace

EDIT: it is Vineyard that wants hurst to find out not the Niles oops

Previously:

James approached, the sound of his footsteps allowing Thomas to know he had a visitor. He straightened and wiped his hands on a cloth he had tucked into his belt, and turned to greet his son-in-law.

Conversations at Lady Shaw's

Ch. 18

James may have been discussing things with Mr. Bennet down at Longbourn, but Matthew Thompson had gone up to Lady Shaw's after making arrangements for someone else to take care of his cows. His visit from Steve Walton had bothered him a lot more than he had let on to the solicitor. Questions in regard to Ensign George Wickham he could deal with; he had not actually ever dealt with the over-sized rat. However, anyone asking about women like the ensign's ex-wife had him gravely concerned.

Lady Shaw saw Mr. Thompson riding towards her home through a parlor window. And, as he drew closer, it was easy to tell this was not going to be a nice neighborly chat. Hence, she sent all the servants away. Plus, she made sure Jocasta understood to stay up on the second - if not the third - floor.

"He may be coming to warn us of danger. The last thing we need is for someone to know what I am still doing."

"Yes, Mother." Jocasta hurried up the flight of stairs and then disappeared out of sight as she ascended another set of stairs.

"Come on in, Mr. Thompson." Lady Shaw opened the door and was concerned when he asked that they talk in a room without so many windows. "Follow me."

The lady of Peyton Hall took Mr. Thompson down the hall and into her father's old study. While it had plenty of windows, all but the farthest curtains were closed. "Will this do?" She asked as her hand pointed to a chair well-hidden by a covered window. "My servants are all on upper floors."

"Yes." The dairy farmer sat down and started right in. "I received a second visit from Steven Walton. Want to guess who most likely sent him and which two people he was asking about?"

"What did you tell him?"

"As to the ensign, basically the same thing anyone else would; he was too much into whiskey, gambling, and women; even as a married man."

"And Lydia?"

"As far as I am concerned Lydia is dead. And she must feel the same way or she would not have instantly changed her name upon that divorce of hers; one we both know you paid for."

"Not totally." Lady Shaw sat down and broke the one rule she had not broken in years; and that was to repeat anything the girls ever said to her. "The only reason Jocasta has not acknowledged seeing how you feel about her is because it pains her to think of herself walking down an aisle without her father a second time. And we both know that cannot be done at the moment for two main reasons."

"Can I hang the man? Or better yet, the man who is pulling his strings." Mr. Thompson growled. "And you know full well I am not referring to Jocasta's father."

"We have no proof. We do not even have evidence of why Mr. Corby did what he did."

"Still cannot he believe stumbled across your daughter and…" Mr. Thompson hurried and quit speaking, as did Lady Shaw, both had thought they heard something only to realize the sound was echoing footsteps from a different part of the house. Hence the gentleman began again. "Told her as much as he did."

"I confess, I am a bit skeptical. I do not know if I trust him, so, yes, he is one of the reasons we cannot speak of Jocasta off this estate. That is why, when I came across him myself, I gave him the instructions I did."

"Give the ensign time to prepare himself, but give us a way to know ahead of time if we need to run with Jocasta into Scotland, uh?"

"Pretty much. If this is all a setup, I have no intention of falling into John Corby's trap, or should I say fall back into his puppet master's hand." Lady Shaw bit her lip and thought a moment. "Tell me straight, if you could speak openly to my adopted daughter, would you? If we could still keep her safe?"

"What kind of stupid question is that? Of course, I would."

"Wait here." Moments later, Mr. Thompson was being sent for and he found himself upstairs facing Jocasta in a small drawing room. The room was cozy and intimate, with a low ceiling and walls adorned with delicate floral wallpaper. A pair of armchairs, upholstered in rich burgundy fabric, flanked a small fireplace that provided warmth and a soft glow. The room was sparsely furnished, with a modest wooden table and a few shelves holding books and trinkets. Heavy curtains, drawn to keep out prying eyes, added to the sense of privacy. The scent of lavender lingered in the air, a calming presence amidst the tension of their conversation. "You two talk, and I will be quiet. And then I will say my piece."

Matthew, for the first time in a very long time, struggled to speak. "Jocasta, or Lydia, I really do not care what name you go by. I have kept quiet ever since meeting you because I knew if Lady Shaw was not only giving you shelter but paying for your divorce and giving you her name as well, then you must be an extremely rare case. And I mean that in a very good way. Yes, I heard rumblings about your past, heard quite a bit of it out of your own mouth. However, I have seen the way you are now. It is what has drawn me to you. I know people say I act and think older than I am and that I am also stubborn, bullheaded, and have a sarcastic tongue. However, I have not ever used it on my family. Please, though we cannot wed at this time for you cannot bring yourself to walk down an aisle without your father, could you bring yourself to wear a simple ring as a sign of affection for me now? Though you do not walk openly off this estate?"

Jocasta, in spite of what she had told Christy before her departure, was in shock. She had not truly expected Matthew Thompson to be willing to offer marriage knowing her answer may involve waiting. What kind of man did such a thing?

"You would wait? For me? Someone who foolishly ran off with the likes of George Wickham, someone who still has to fight her impulses and has to live by lists in order to get anything done? Someone who needs constant reminders or she gets off track and starts a chore before she even finishes her original task?"

"Yes, if you would have an old dairy farmer who doubles as a blacksmith. I am no gentleman with fancy carriages and horses. I rise before the sun does and often times do not get in until after it sets. Yes, I have just acquired another hundred cows and another hundred acres. So, I am now considered upper middle-class. But I will never be upper class, and I most definitely will not ever get any younger. And, if for some reason we had to leave, we would be right down among the working class again."

"I hardly call thirty-four old, and I am not afraid of work."

"Is that a yes?" Matthew grinned as Jocasta blushed.

"Yes." And, when asked, said she preferred to stick with the name Jocasta. "Lydia is dead; I do not know if she will ever live again."

"That is neither here nor there. I think…" Lady Shaw spoke once Mr. Thompson said he would have to get Miss Shaw a ring when he came back. "With your permission, if Mr. Hurst or one of those men come back, I be given to speak a little more freely, or Matthew be allowed. Someone needs to be told what we suspect. If they are looking into your ex-husband's death, it would help not only your cause, but other women's as well."

"Is Mr. Hurst really not drunk anymore and is he really married to Kitty?" That one still floored Jocasta; her wide eyes showed her continued befuddlement.

"It is true. I thoroughly checked that one out." Lady Shaw grinned wide.

"Could you first ask him about my father? My parents?" Jocasta bit and twisted her lip.

Her question made perfect sense. She had not been around Mr. Bennet in four years. She had no idea her mother had passed away. There was no way she could know they had made peace with each other. No, there was no way the poor girl could know of the changes at Longbourn.

"Maybe, you could ask him yourself?"

"Maybe."