by Dayna Quince
Selhorst stopped and turned toward her, spying her in the doorway. “Miss Jeanette, do join us. Your sister is trying to reform me.”
“She does that to everyone,” Jeanie said as she stepped into the library.
“Everyone can use improving,” Josie murmured as she skimmed through a book.
Lord Selhorst winked at Jeanie. “Especially me.”
“I’d have to agree,” Josie replied.
Lord Selhorst didn’t look the least bit offended. In fact, he appeared to be very much enjoying her sister’s acerbic undressing of his character.
Jeanie was once again uncertain she should have interrupted. Lord Selhorst was a wealthy man. He could save them all from their uncertain future. Josie could afford all the books she wanted if she married a man like him.
He didn’t seem the least bit guilty for having been caught alone with Josie, as if he didn’t want to hide such an occurrence…like someone else she knew.
His words whispered through her mind again. He wanted her but he didn’t, or maybe not enough, or…
She sighed. She was so confused. She could feel a headache coming on.
She wasn’t up to the task of speaking with Josie or Lord Selhorst if he was anything like Josie. They could argue all they wished, debate the reason for existence for all she cared, but she had to leave. She needed clarity and the only person she knew who could cut to the heart of a matter was Georgie.
“I came here to ask if you knew where Georgie was?”
Josie made a noncommittal grunt.
“She said no," Selhorst said. “I’ve grown fluent in Josette is just a few day’s time.” He winked at her.
Good heavens. This man was so smitten with her sister he could translate her grunts?
She should leave. She should let whatever was happening here occur without stepping in the way. Josie would be enough of a hinderance to her own courtship that Jeanie need not interfere.
“Good luck,” she muttered.
He frowned. “I beg your pardon? I didn’t catch that.”
Jeanie cleared her throat. “I said good day, my lord.”
She turned on her heel and left the library. It will be interesting to see what becomes of those two, but for now, Jeanie had to find Georgie and see what sense could be made of her own feelings.
Jeanie entered the drawing room before dinner, her nerves on edge. She fluttered from group to group, pretending to listen and nodding vaguely. She’d searched all over the castle for Georgie only to hear from a maid, who’d heard from a footman, who’d heard from one of the stable lads, that Georgie was in the stable with her pets. Jeanie was going to join her, but it was too close to dinner so she waited.
Georgie at last entered the drawing room and Jeanie went to her side.
“You’re later than usual. Did your pets take you long?” Jeanie asked.
“My pets?”
“You said you went to the stable, as you do every night before dinner. But I expected you back much sooner.”
Georgie nodded absently. “So I did.”
Jeanie laughed. “Are you all right?”
“I’m…tired, I think.”
Jeanie frowned and touched Georgie’s temple. “Are you feeling ill?” Her color was high, and her eyes a bit bright. She didn’t appear tired but glowing with vitality.
“No, no. I didn’t sleep well last night, and my reserves of energy are depleted. Please stop fussing over me.”
Jeanie lowered her hand. “Very well, come into dinner and hopefully food will improve your mood.”
They moved as a group toward the drawing room. Josie slipped in beside Jeanie and looped her arm through hers.
Jeanie regarded her, thinking about what she saw in the library between Josie and Lord Selhorst. Did anything happen after she’d left? She couldn’t ask her outright, certainly not within hearing of others.
“Do you think any of us will catch a husband from this party?” Jeanie asked carefully. She certainly wasn’t holding out hope for herself anymore.
“I’m pinning all my hopes on you,” Josie said.
Jeanie stiffened. “What? Why me?”
“Or Anne.” Josie scratched her chin. “Both of you have a certain maturity and femininity that lends you the best chance.”
Jeanie swallowed. “I do?”
Josie grinned. “You do. I know you want to go to London. Out of all of us, it’s you I can see succeeding. You’re the most fashionable and the most conventional out of all of us. It certainly isn’t me. I think I’m more suited to spinsterhood, or as Lord Selhorst said earlier, I aspire to be an ape leader. I took it as a compliment.”
“I…I’m not fashionable,” Jeanie stammered.
“Nonsense. You remade that dress for Willa and used the torn hem to make little rosettes along the bodice.”
Jeanie blushed. “It was for her birthday.”
Josie chucked her under the chin. “Chin up. Why don’t you think any of these men would marry you?”
Jeanie chewed her lips as Lord Luckfeld’s words returned to her.
I have to marry an heiress.
“I think our lack of social standing and wealth is a bigger hinderance than Violet realized. Even with her recommendation, these gentlemen still think they must marry women from society.”
Josie nodded. “Or that they don’t need to marry at all. They are sheep, you know. They move with the herd. It’s very difficult to make one break from the norm. But it can be done.”
Jeanie laughed, the tension leaving her. Then as if a window suddenly blew open and a breeze touched her skin, she glanced up and there he stood, his gaze meeting hers. She couldn’t speak, but she didn’t have to. He held out a chair for the dowager duchess, and Jeanie couldn’t pull her attention away as he charmed the dowager with his wicked smile, making her laugh with his witty comments. Just yesterday that had been her, wooed by his practiced wile, mesmerized into believing exactly what he wanted her to see.
She knew better now.
Didn’t she?
Envy bit into her heart. She wanted to be the one he gave his attention to. If she hadn’t snooped through his belongings, she could be.
Yes, he’d drawn pictures of her, revealing, compromising pictures, but he’d locked them away, intending to show no one.
“It’s all I’ll ever have of you.”
Unless it wasn’t, her furtive heart cried. He may say he must marry an heiress because it’s what people like him do.
But if two people loved each other—
What was she thinking?
Jeanie took her seat at the table, the food set before her as appetizing as papier-mache. She didn’t love him. She barely knew him. And he couldn’t love her, or he would want to marry her. Wouldn’t he?
Her heart raced and her palms grew sweaty. Lord Selhorst sat beside her and commented on the food as if all was normal, as if she wasn’t having a complete break in sanity at that moment.
Or was it an epiphany?
She couldn’t tell the difference, but Lord Selhorst was giving her a peculiar look now, and he knew she was not present at the moment.
“Are you unwell? I’m told Roderick fell ill earlier. Perhaps it wasn’t something he ate and an illness that is contagious?”
Jeanie swallowed and shook her head.
“Your color is high. Have some chilled wine.” He pressed a glass into her hand.
“Thank you, my lord.” She took a sip, the cold liquid bringing some of her wits back to her.
“Better?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re sure you’re not unwell?”
“As far as I can tell. I was having a…sudden realization.”
His gaze brightened with interest. “Do share.”
She blushed.
“Now I’m even more interested.” He leaned closer. “I am very good at keeping secrets.”
Secrets? Such as gentlemen artists who didn’t want their skill known?
Did Selhorst know wh
at Lord Luckfeld was up to in the tower?
And then it occurred to her, perhaps it was nothing more than embarrassment. He didn’t want his drawing known because he was embarrassed. Did he think they weren’t good? In Jeanie’s opinion, they were very well done. But what did she know about art?
She cleared her throat. “Do you like to draw, my lord?”
He cocked his head, no longer so enthusiastic about hearing gossip. “I’ve a passable skill but nothing worth putting on display.”
She considered her question carefully. “Do any of the other gentlemen here draw?”
He pursed his lips as he thought. “Not that I’m aware of. I know we’re to have a sketching excursion tomorrow, but such things are common during house parties. The sketches are never judged for their quality. Are you interested in drawing, or is one of your sisters perchance?”
“No, I only ask out of curiosity.”
He sipped his wine. “I’m not entirely convinced it’s curiosity. What do you wish to know, Miss Jeanette?”
She chewed her lip. “Very well.” She took a deep breath and lowered her voice. “Does Lord Luckfeld draw?” Of course she knew he did, but did anyone else know?
“Luckfeld has two passions, neither of which involve a pencil and paper. I’ve heard…”
“Yes,” Jeanie leaned closer to him.
Lord Selhorst pressed his lips together. “I ought not to tell you. It’s not an appropriate topic.”
She ground her teeth.
He seemed to weigh the consequences. “Well, his mother had a paramour that was an artist. The viscount, Luc’s father, hated anything to do with artistic talents. He was forbidden from studying the arts at school.”
Jeanie’s eyes widened.
“I’ve shocked you.”
“Not for the reason you think,” she hurried to say.
“You look as though I’ve given you a clue to a mystery.”
“Oh, you have,” she said with excitement. It made perfect sense. His mother had betrayed his father with an artist. He wasn’t allowed to draw. It must feel like a betrayal, so he kept it a secret!
“Don’t leave me in suspense,” Lord Selhorst begged.
Jeanie refocused on him. “I…can’t tell you.”
He mock scowled. “That isn’t fair. I shared information with you. Quid pro quo, as they say.”
No wonder he spent so much time sparring with Josie. Josie was the only other person she knew who inserted Latin into sentences as if it was normal. Josie had taught herself Latin, refusing to believe she was somehow incapable of learning what boys were privileged to learn simply because of her gender.
“I’ve only ever heard Josie say that. I don’t know what it means.”
“It mean you must share information with me in return,” he said.
She wasn’t about to share Luckfeld’s secret. He’d gone to great lengths to hide it, and for some reason, she felt protective of it and a bit guilty for having discovered it.
She would have to give him something else just as enticing.
“If you want to court Josie’s favor, I suggest you steer clear of instigating her and try to meet her on her level.”
Something flashed in his eyes, and then it was gone. “I never said anything about wanting to court your sister.”
But you want to.
She grinned. “I said court her favor. Josie thinks she is as smart as any man, and women should have the same opportunities for education.”
“She’s smarter than most of the men I know. I’ve told her so.”
“Good, but it isn’t enough to tell her. Show her you believe it.”
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze still on her. “Thank you for the insight.”
Jeanie nodded. “Likewise.”
They both gave their attention to their food. Jeanie managed a few bites before she felt full. Her cognizance of Luc at the other end of the table made her hair stand on end, little shivers of awareness shooting down her spine, but every time she peeked his way, his full attention was on someone else.
She wasn’t any closer to understanding her own feelings regarding him. He made her hot and cold, afraid and yet…recklessly curious? This couldn’t be the end of whatever this was between them. She couldn’t go on with her life, wherever it may lead, not knowing she’d done everything she could to understand what this was.
She’d come to this party ignorant of what to expect once she saw him again, but it wasn’t this.
Attraction, courtship, it wasn’t as flowery and simple as she’d always thought. What she was feeling was so much more complex and confusing, much like him. If she wanted to learn more about him, she’d have to seek him out herself. She was not bold like Georgie and Bernie. Their reckless bravery would come in handy right now. So what would they do? A myriad of ideas crossed her mind, one after another, and growing more wanton than the last.
What was the matter with her?
She wiped her mouth, her fingers touching her lips. In her mind, she replayed the kiss and her lips tingled, as if she only had to think of him to relive the sensation.
She took a sip of wine, her internal temperature climbing to an uncomfortable degree. Jeanie wasn’t used to feeling so…warm or jittery. Until now, her life had been quiet. She spent hours of her day sewing, mending, and dreaming about a life where she didn’t have to do any of these things ever again. An exciting life filled with romance and affection. She’d fantasized of being swept away by a prince—well, not a literal prince, not even her dreams were that illogical. But Lord Luckfeld, when she’d first met him, had exceeded her wildest dreams in every way.
The reality was much different, though he still made her want to believe. Perhaps she had expected too much of him too soon.
The real world was not a fantasy, and it actually made sense that he was not a perfect prince, but a flesh and blood man and he’d drawn her as a flesh and blood woman.
So what should she do?
Chapter 11
Dinner finished and the ladies moved to the drawing room to await the gentlemen. Tables had been placed around the room for cards and other games, curtains drawn over the wide arch that led to the King’s Hall.
Jeanie sat beside Anne, who fidgeted with a sampler. As the oldest, Anne was the most burdened by their circumstances. Jeanie could only pray that one of these gentlemen would fall madly in love with one of them and save them all from an uncertain future.
“I don’t know how you have the patience for this,” Anne said. She winced and sucked on her finger.
“A thimble helps. I don’t worry about bleeding to death,” Jeanie replied.
Anne smiled. “That makes sense.”
Jeanie studied her sister. Anne seemed tired, no, more than tired. Drained of her usual…Anne-ness.
“Are you well?” Jeanie asked as she took the sampler and fixed Anne’s snarled thread.
“I feel fine. Georgie went up to bed with a headache, didn’t she?”
“Yes,” Jeanie replied. “But she was fine before dinner.” Except she was glowing. And behaving oddly. Though, Jeanie was most likely behaving oddly too. This party was affecting them all.
“Perhaps I should check on her,” Jeanie said. “Lord Selhorst had said at dinner that it may not have been food that made Roderick ill but something catching.”
Anne’s eyes widened. “I…I don’t think so.”
Jeanie studied her, the off tone in Anne’s voice peculiar.
“I’ll go check on her before the gentlemen return, shall I?” Jeanie stated, a kernel of suspicion forming.
Anne nodded, shooing her away.
Jeanie sighed as she left the drawing room and went straight to Georgie’s room. She knocked once and then again with more force when Georgie didn’t answer. She stepped inside and the room was utterly empty.
“Where could she be?” Jeanie circled the room. There was no sign that Georgie had been here at all.
Alarm bells rang in her mind, and for some rea
son, Jeanie couldn’t help but think that Mr. Cage was involved. There had been a tension between them, and the more Jeanie thought about it, the more it seemed real.
First Josie and Lord Selhorst, and now Georgie and Mr. Cage?
And her and Luckfeld, though she had nothing to report on that front except…two kisses and some scintillating pictures.
She pressed her hands to her cheeks and started pacing. What was happening to them? They used to be so close to each other, sharing beds, combs, dresses, shoes and now it was as though they were strangers.
Jeanie paused as Georgie opened her door and stepped inside, looking remarkable healthy.
Jeanie scowled at her, toe tapping, as their mother would do when they misbehaved.
“Where were you?”
Georgie’s face blanked of all expression. A clear sign of deception.
“The kitchens,” she said. “I took some headache powder and drank some tea. I’m feeling better but still tired. Shouldn’t you be downstairs?”
“I came to check on you and you weren’t here,” Jeanie returned.
Georgie laughed. “Where did you think I was?”
Jeanie shrugged, tucking a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear.
With a man.
But Jeanie didn’t say it because out loud it might sound as crazy as she felt.
“I don’t know. But…you’ve been different.”
Georgie sat at her dressing table and took down her hair, not meeting Jeanie’s gaze, another sign of evasiveness. Georgie was never good at lying. She was a direct person and lies went against her grain.
“I feel like myself,” Georgie said. “A bit harried what with seeing to my animals and running back and forth between the stables and festivities.”
Jeanie scrutinized her more carefully, though she didn’t have the faintest idea of what she was looking for. “You could direct someone else to do that.”
“I see no reason. The party is almost half over. Soon I’ll be home and doing it all by myself again.”
Jeanie shook her head and retreated to the foot of the bed. “Be optimistic. We may never have a chance like this again. If even just one of us marries one of these fine gentlemen, it would change everything. We could go to London, we could be invited to more parties and… I don’t know. Many wonderful things could happen.” She’d given this speech more times than she cared to count before the party started, but she wasn’t sure she believed it anymore.