by Jen YatesNZ
Handing his hat and gloves to Denby, he ran a finger round his neck-cloth and entered his sister’s sitting room.
This evening he was escorting his niece to a ball at the Austrian Embassy hosted by Prince and Princess Esterhazy. One of the highlights of the season, it was certain to be a lavish affair.
Selena was agog with excitement and her grandmother had provided her with a new ball-gown for the occasion. Once again he’d find himself the target for ambitious Mama’s and their hopeful daughters.
Lord, he was weary of it all. Mercifully there was less than a fortnight left of the Season proper. At which point he’d escape to Bancombe—
Jane was back! He was rooted to a spot on the carpet inside the door of his sister’s drawing room. What the hell was this slicing pain in his chest? Why should simply looking at her hurt? Words were jammed somewhere deep in his chest behind this infernal pain. His damned heart wanted to burst.
Jane was back.
He couldn’t control the smile invading his face. God, he was in trouble. No woman had ever had this effect on him. But he didn’t care. Jane was back. Slowly he regained control of his faculties, dragging up the slightly cynical veneer he usually presented to the world. Crossing the room, he greeted his sister with a kiss on her cheek, admired Selena in her soft green silk gown trimmed with silver bows, and finally stood before Jane, who was gowned in rich mahogany satin.
Bowing low over her hand, he came upright to note with a shock her cheeks were pale and hollow and he’d swear she’d lost weight.
He scarcely knew what to say for he felt reproached by the knowledge he was likely the cause of whatever ailed her. No smile curved her lips. No light shone in her eyes. This was not his Jane. This was a pattern card cut-out. The pain in his chest twisted deeper.
‘Are we ready then?’ Selena asked, everything about her a lively, sparkling contrast to her chaperone.
He saw them settled in the carriage side by side facing the horses and himself on the seat opposite, thinking it’d be easier not sitting close enough to touch. Sitting opposite that totally contained, inanimate version of his Angular Jane was purgatory.
He wanted to gaze at her and knew he couldn’t. Wanted to ask if he was the cause of her obvious malaise; and knew he couldn’t. Wanted to hold her, kiss her, love some color back into her cheeks and life into her eyes—and knew he couldn’t.
Dammit! After tonight he’d leave the chaperoning to Jane. She’d no need of him now—for anything. Young Falcon-Smythe was in evidence wherever they went, always claiming two dances with Selena and one of them the supper dance.
Bax was surprised the man hadn’t already spoken, but he’d shown himself a gentleman in every way and an adequate watchdog whenever Bax had not been around.
Selena was happily chattering about the latest on-dit about the rivalry between Princess Esterhazy and Countess Lieven. Jane had yet to speak beyond non-committal murmurs Selena took as encouragement, or completely ignored. Was the chit oblivious?
‘Don’t you think so, Lady R?’ she asked suddenly, turning directly towards Jane, who merely smiled and nodded vaguely as if mentally she were not actually present.
Selena turned back to him and he saw a flash of what he thought might be annoyance—at him—in her distinctive green-blue eyes, and she moved on to talk about news she’d received from home.
Not oblivious. Reversing roles, taking care of Jane. Shielding her from his attention. Selena was a credit to her parents and Lord Jasper Falcon-Smythe was a lucky young dog, if he ever plucked up courage to ask Bax for her hand.
Forcing himself to show an interest in wee Mary’s latest achievements in the schoolroom and commiserate over Dickon breaking his arm when he fell out of a tree, he managed to keep from trying to prise Jane out of her world of silence.
The journey across Mayfair and into Marylebone seemed to take longer than usual and he was relieved when they finally arrived at Chandos House, the Austrian Embassy in Queen Anne Street. Even outside, the place was a blaze of opulent color and lights, the street was jammed with carriages waiting their turn for their occupants to alight and enter on the red carpet rolled out to the edge of the pavement.
Stepping out, he helped the ladies down and knew an inordinate satisfaction when Jane’s fingers remained where he’d placed them on his arm. Her touch was light and he knew the instant they entered the ballroom she’d remove them, but he’d savor the precious moments of contact and worry later about the stranger who seemed to be taking over his body.
Normally he’d have long since moved on before a woman reached the point of cold-shouldering him as Jane was doing.
And yet the bruised look around her eyes and the careful way she seemed to be holding herself aloof from him, told him it wasn’t because she felt nothing for him. And if indeed it meant she felt more for him than he’d intended, and this was the cause of her suffering, he was a total cad. His complete abjurement of marriage was meant to save women from heartache, not cause it.
He’d settle them among friends in the ball room and seek out a cozy corner in the card room. It was going to be a damned long night. He could only hope Esterhazy had in a supply of good brandy.
***
After the wedding, the Windermere’s had come up to London to enjoy the end of season flurry and for Lady Jassie to visit her dressmaker. Jane had been back in town almost a week when Jassie called to take Holly and Jane to visit the Duchess of Wolverton, newly returned to the capital.
Selena was attending a Falcon-Smythe family picnic at the Ranelagh Gardens, and since Lord Jasper’s parents were also to be in attendance, Jane fully expected the outing to produce the long awaited request for Selena’s hand. It meant her day was free, which meant too much time for brooding, and plenty of opportunity for Holly to quiz her about what her brother had done to upset her. Jassie’s arrival and the suggestion of visiting Sheri was a welcome distraction.
She was desperate for the end of the season so she could go home. And yet, in her hearts of hearts, home wasn’t where she wanted to be. Every time she was anywhere near Hades her despair deepened. Not only was she suffering, but it seemed he was too. She felt his pain, but knew she didn’t dare weaken.
If only she wasn’t a virgin! She’d have given in long ago if not for that. And they’d probably both be over it and able to move on.
Deep, ugly internal laughter mocked that thought. She was never going to get over Hades Delacourte. The hunger and the pain of the denial would haunt her to the grave.
At least running into him while making morning calls at Wolverton House seemed unlikely and she felt herself relaxing more than she had in weeks.
Lady Sheri was radiant. No one could accuse this vibrant woman of being any sort of iceberg, Heavenly or otherwise, as the ton had long dubbed her. Marriage, specifically marriage to the Duke of Wolverton, suited the new Duchess.
Jassie almost fell on her neck with relief, but that was Jassie, deeply caring and wearing her emotions for all to see. Jane had been in town long enough to know the history between these two. The Duke had believed himself in love with Jassie, who’d already been in love with his cousin, Lord Windermere. Now it would seem he’d discovered he’d known little about the reality of love. Jane truly hoped so.
Jassie leant back a little to survey her friend, her face flushed with joy and her eyes moist.
‘You look—happy. Tell me you’re happy,’ she pleaded.
Sheri wrapped her arms around Jassie and declared, ‘I’m happy! I’ve never been so happy—and so is my husband, I believe!—It’s so good to see you. You’re my first callers. I guess it’s time I started behaving like an old married woman and ordered the tea trolley!’
Jassie dropped back into a chair, her face alight with laughter and tears trickling unheeded down her cheeks.
Sheri greeted both Holly and Jane with a kiss on the cheek, then rang for the tea trolley. Jane sat quietly as the other two quizzed Sheri and elicited the admission she and the Duke were ecstatically ha
ppy in their newfound love for one another—which had not been a foregone conclusion when she’d agreed to marry him.
‘Marriage,’ Sheri sighed, ‘is everything I ever dreamed it could be. I’m so blessed I want my friends to be as happy,’ she finished, looking directly at Jane. ‘Haven’t you found anyone to stir your desires again since coming to London?’
Jane sat mute. How could she admit to these three there was no ‘again’ about stirring her desires? They’d never been stirred by anyone except Hades Delacourte and—she couldn’t tell them that, could she? Though God knew, she was reaching the point of needing to share her problem with someone. Who better than these three?
Holly watched her for a moment, obviously waiting to see if Jane would speak, and when she didn’t, said slowly, ‘I believe she has, but since it’s my great lout of a brother we know how far that’s likely to go!’
When Jane still didn’t speak, Holly continued gently, ‘He did something to upset you at the Castle, I think. That’s why you took yourself off to Dover and stayed away so long. I might add Hades was pretty glum the whole time you were away. I never saw him smile once until he walked into my drawing room the night of the Esterhazy’s ball and saw you sitting there. I don’t believe he’s had another woman in his sights since you came up to London, Jane. And that is so not like my big brother. He’s been the model of a chaperone for Selena while you were gone, for I told him the duty was his since it was plain to everyone present at Wolverton you were fleeing to Dover to escape him. I’ve never known him so subdued—and lacking in interest in other women!’
Jane bit her lip, the desire to spill her angst nearly overpowering her embarrassment.
Holly reached for her hand.
‘Talk to us, Jane,’ she urged. ‘I know you were somewhat shocked when I suggested you have an affair with him, but I truly believe it’s what you both need.’
Jane glanced down at Holly’s delicate fingers curled over her own tense ones, then let her gaze pass round all three women. The tightly wound tension in her chest simply unraveled.
‘I’ll probably burst if I don’t tell someone,’ she murmured. ‘Who better than you three?’
Three smiling faces encouraged her, and suddenly sharing was easy.
‘I’ve probably measured all men against Hades my entire life—and everyone has come up lacking.’
‘Even James?’ Holly asked.
‘James—was different.’
Jassie leant forward, her golden curls dancing a little.
‘What do you mean?’
‘James married me to keep my father from forcing me to marry Squire Dunne.’
‘I know that,’ Holly averred, ‘but I thought you loved James?’
‘I did,’ Jane said without hesitation. ‘He was the father my own father never was.’
Holly’s gaze hadn’t wavered from Jane’s face and now her eyes widened, and her mouth opened to speak. Jane forestalled her.
‘James and I never slept together.’
‘Never?’ Holly whispered.
Jane smiled around the three shocked faces and marveled at how relieved she was to finally say, ‘Never. The Dowager Countess of Rotherby is still a virgin!’
Holly almost leapt out of her seat as understanding hit her.
‘And my brother—’
‘Doesn’t bed virgins,’ Jane finished for her.
Holly scoffed, ‘Because he knows the price of virginity is marriage! And Hades is not about marriage!’
‘Not his own, at least,’ Sheri put in dryly. ‘I owe him for mine however. If not for that bounder making a scurrilous bet with my equally scurrilous husband, Dom might still be hiding behind his oft professed love for Jassie—and not noticing anyone else!’
‘You could still have an affair with Bax, couldn’t you, Jane?’ Jassie asked, clearly undisturbed by Sheri’s statement. ‘So long as you made it clear you weren’t looking for marriage?’
Jane closed her eyes for a moment against the temptation of the thought.
‘No,’ she said at last. ‘That roguish, careless aspect he shows the world is all a hum. He uses it to hide a sensitive, artistic soul—and a sense of honor I know wouldn’t allow him to do anything other than insist on marriage, regardless what I might say. I’m not sure I could refuse him either, even knowing how great his aversion to that institution is. He believes he can’t vow to remain faithful to a wife and he saw what his father’s infidelity did to his mother. He’s told me he’ll not subject a wife to that. I’m not sure I could withstand the pain of it either—if we were to marry and he—
‘Betrayed his vows,’ Jassie finished for her.
‘Yes. So you see, while I’m still a virgin I daren’t give in to him. Now can we talk about somebody else?’
They all laughed then Holly began speculating about how much longer before Lord Jasper Falcon-Smythe asked for Selena’s hand.
But Jane was aware of Sheri’s deep brown eyes resting on her from time to time with empathy and—a glint of speculation.
‘I imagine you haven’t been doing much painting since the wedding?’ Jassie commented to Sheri with a teasing note in her voice.
‘Not really,’ Sheri admitted, a beautiful rosy color suffusing her alabaster cheeks.
‘Surely Dom does not disapprove?’ Holly asked.
‘Of course not,’ Sheri said quickly. ‘He—collects art.’
‘He does,’ Jassie agreed. ‘Rogan says he has this trio of paintings in his study, the back view of a woman. They were the start of a series, the first one entitled ‘Innocence’. I can’t remember the other titles, but they told a story—in each, the robe she’s wearing has slipped a little further down her back and from her aspect you could see she was becoming less innocent, more knowing—or something. Rogan was quite jealous—except he now says they are so like the new Duchess of Wolverton, she could’ve been the model!’
Her eyes danced in the direction of the Duchess, whose cheeks flamed. She stared at Jassie with a kind of glassy horror, and as Jane watched, a strange expression dawned on Lady Windermere’s lively countenance.
‘Never tell me you were the model,’ Jassie demanded.
‘And the artist,’ Sheri whispered.
Jassie’s mouth dropped open.
‘Does Dom know?’
‘He does now.’
A mischievous grin spread across Jassie’s face.
‘Oh, Sher, I love it!’ she cried. ‘Now you have to tell us the whole story! For there’s more to it than that, I’m sure.’
Sheri considered them in silence for a moment, then said quietly, ‘I need your word of honor, all of you. None of this goes beyond these four walls.’
‘Most certainly you have my word of honor,’ Jassie said, and Jane and Holly also promised.
Sheri rose and locked the door.
‘Good Lord!’ Jassie murmured. ‘What have I teased you into revealing?’
Sheri gave her a wicked little half smile and Jane suddenly realized something the others probably already knew about the new Duchess of Wolverton. The cool, proper ‘Ice Princess’ appearance that had earned her the moniker ‘Heavenly Iceberg’ was a shield behind which the real Lady Sheri hid.
Settling back in her chair, she said, ‘I wearied of painting landscapes and wanted to try my hand at painting the human body—terribly unseemly for an unmarried lady—’
‘Or a married one!’ Holly squeaked.
‘Or for a duchess!’ Sheri continued, ‘I had to use my own body, back view, and I made the hair darker. I did the first one just to see. I set up a series of mirrors and—I felt embarrassed doing it though I was locked into my studio at Springwoods—my place at Newmarket,’ she explained to Jane.
‘One day the satin robe I was wearing slipped and I got the idea for the series of three. Maggie, my maid and greatest support, said, ‘Gentlemen would pay good money for pictures like that!’ I sponsor girls from three orphanages and send them for training as household staff or ladies’ ma
ids and governesses. If they don’t need some sort of training, they certainly need a couple of decent gowns, underwear, a warm winter coat, a bonnet and a pair of shoes. I fund these things myself but—it occurred to me how much more satisfactory it’d be if I could fund the project from my painting!
‘So I signed them S.P.R.Woods—for Springwoods—and dressed Maggie up as Mr. Wilson, my agent. She took the paintings to Mr. Puttick’s gallery on Bond Street. The titles of the first three were ‘Innocence’, ‘Awakening’, and ‘Awareness’. When the check arrived it was for an amount beyond shocking. I was so excited and had no hesitation in agreeing to paint another three, which would bring the series to a more—exposed—conclusion!
‘We had no idea who’d bought them. Maggie told Mr. Puttick we preferred not to know. Lord knows what I’d have done if I’d known the purchaser was Dom!
‘I painted the next two while at Springwoods after Dom and I got engaged. When Maggie took them to Mr. Puttick, he requested the last one—and because he thought Maggie was a man, he had no hesitation in saying he thought the title should be—’
She stopped, color flooding her cheeks again.
‘What?’ Jassie demanded.
‘Fucked,’ Sheri whispered.
‘Oh!’ Jassie burst out laughing. ‘Oh, my dear! And you still an innocent!’
‘Precisely,’ said Sheri, rallying. ‘And while I managed the first five I wasn’t sure I could portray what was required for that last one—until after I was wed! And I found out Dom was the purchaser the night before the wedding.’
Sheri’s focus faded and for a moment Jane was sure the Duchess had entirely forgotten their presence.
Recovering herself, she continued, ‘I was desperate to keep the identity of the artist from Dom, especially when he explained the woman in the paintings was no one he knew, but she reminded him of me! Dear God! And I really wanted to paint the last one because he’d paid handsomely for the others!’
‘Have you?’ Jassie asked, when Sheri drifted off in her mind again.
‘What?’
‘Painted the last one?’
‘Yes—at least, it’s not finished. Dom—caught me out. And we’ve been a bit—’