John Christopherson.
She dared not look up at him, afraid she wrong. But who else could it be? As she lifted her eyes, she took in the polished boots, the fashionable breeches and coat, and a cravat tied with the practiced fingers of a valet. Then she saw his eyes, those stormy gray orbs that had reminded her of the best kind of rainy days, when she enjoyed snuggling under the covers with a book. His hair was a little longer than the last time she saw him, but it was still auburn, with every shade of red, brown, bronze, and gold streaking through it, and fashionably tamed. She remembered how his hair had felt in her hands as he had kissed her, pressing her into the tree, and she flushed.
“Ah, Mr. Christopherson,” Ben replied, noting Jane’s silence. Thank goodness for Ben and his quick wit. People were watching the interaction, since they had never seen John before and because he had approached the earl and his ward without introduction. It was all very unbecoming and they started to twitter about it, but soon realized it was a previous acquaintance. It seemed as if this new man did not need an introduction. They would need something else to gossip about. “It is very good to see you. Although,” Ben glanced at Jane, “I think I can speak for both my sister and I when I say this is a surprise. A good surprise. But a surprise.”
John smiled, a bit shyly. “Well, I am glad to hear it is a good surprise, Lord Wembley.” His gaze drifted to Jane, who felt paralyzed. She had never been afraid to speak her mind, but for the first time in her life, she did not know what she wanted to say. She wondered if she would have the bravery to say it, even if she knew what it was. Thoughts seemed to have escaped her.
“Hello, Mr. Christopherson,” she replied. Despite the water, her throat felt dry. It felt so strange to not call him by his Christian name, but she knew people would overhear and make something of it. She wished she was alone with him and without an audience. Whenever she had imagined a reunion, it was never in the middle of a crowded ball.
“I have been unable to attend any of the invitations previously.” John addressed both Ben and Jane, but it was clear his words were for Jane. “But I thought perhaps there was a chance, though it is the last official ball of the season, that I might see you here.”
“Yes.” Jane had to wipe her lips. “Yes, well, here we are. My sister is home with her sons.”
John looked a bit deflated at her response but turned to Ben. “Congratulations on becoming a father again. My brothers had not written of it or I would have offered my best wishes earlier in the conversation.” He spoke so formally she hardly recognized him. Like the rest of the crowd, she wondered: Who is this man? “I also wish you good luck. My mother would tell you boys can be a handful.”
“I am sure my wife would agree with your mother, John,” Ben said kindly. He looked between Jane and John and saw the way they both were struggling. “Jane was just telling me how eager she was to return to the dance floor.”
Jane’s eyes shot to Ben’s, since that was exactly the opposite of what she had said. Ben only winked. Jane had interfered in his relationship, for the better, and now it was his turn to try and help her.
“It would be an honor to escort you to the dance floor, Miss Watson, and partake in a dance with you,” John told her, his gray eyes humble. His eyelashes were still long and curling and ever so appealing. “If you would like to, that is.”
Before she even knew what she was saying, she placed her hand on his arm. “I would love to,” she murmured, even if she broke out into sweat at the idea. She could not remember a single time when she had been nervous in John’s presence, not even when they had kissed. What was happening to her? She chanced a glance up at him and saw that he had firmed his jaw, with his eyes forward.
“May I ask how you are?” He sounded so polite and yet somewhat distant. She could not recall him ever speaking to her in such a tone. Had he forgotten what they had once been to one another, the best of friends, and perhaps more?
She decided to do as Julia would and play it as cool as possible. It was not natural to her but she would do her best. “You may ask whatever you would like. I should think you would be able to fill in the blanks of my life better than I would be able to do in your case.” She paused, thinking her life had gone exactly how he had predicted it would, but she knew nothing of his. And still she thought of the boy and then the man she had known back at Pritchford. She wanted to know how he faired. She could not help it. “How…”
“How am I here?” he replied as they walked nearer to the dance floor. Humor tinged his voice now, as if his attendance at such an event was great joke.
She would never ask him such a thing. She could never think of him differently; however different his upbringing had been. “No, that is not what I was going to ask. I wanted to know how you are? Are you well? I have prayed…” She had to stop herself, because this was not playing it cool. She was telling him more than he needed to know. She was handing him her feelings, and she did not know if he was the same man from two years ago. She did not know if this man would handle those feelings with care. She looked down at her silk slippers, watching his expensive hand-tooled leather boots as they walked slowly. “I did not think I would ever see you again. I am surprised.”
She was not looking at him, so she heard his smile in his voice. “You did not think I would make good on my promise to you?” If she focused, she could remember his breath in her ear, promising that someday he would be worthy of her.
Her breath caught. That he would refer to their last conversation shocked her. But if he could speak of it calmly without breaking a sweat then so could she. “You told me not to wait for you,” she replied.
He knew it was not fair to ask, especially so soon, but he could not help it. The words slipped from his lips as he looked down at her blond curls. “Have you?”
They stared at one another, their procession to the dance floor momentarily halted. Her blue eyes were full of fire. “No,” she told him simply.
“But you are unattached?” He could not help it. He had missed her every single day since he had left. Everything he had done between that day and this one had not only been for his brothers, but for Jane, too. She looked beautiful in her white dress, like something out of a dream. No matter how he was dressed, however, he still felt undeserving, the boy with dirt underneath his fingernails. But how he felt toward her, everything in his heart, that had not changed.
This was her second season. Two years ago, she might have answered the question in a straightforward manner. But she had learned the art of flirtation, how to dodge and dart inquiries she preferred not to answer cleverly. “Why must I answer all the questions? It is your life that is a mystery. I have no idea where you have been or how you have come here.”
They turned toward one another, lined up with the other couples for the quadrille. Grasping his hands, she took a step nearer to him as the music began. He smiled at her, his gray eyes amused. “I have missed this. Just talking to you.”
Her eyes drifted to his lips, remembering that day against the tree with such detail that she blushed. Without thought, she asked, “Just talking?”
They turned, their clasped hands between them. “I have missed you,” he murmured quietly so only Jane could hear. “I have thought of you.” His voice roughened with feeling. “I have thought of you every day.”
She tilted her head, eyes sparking. “I would not know,” she retorted. “I have not heard from you. I know nothing of your life or circumstances. I am not sure if I believe you.”
His hand tightened on hers, forcing their gazes to connect. “Have I ever lied to you, Jane?”
“No,” she admitted softly. “You have never lied to me, John.”
“Do you realize,” he began, smiling tenderly. “Do you realize that you taught me this dance after your sister taught it to you? In the field by the river?”
She smiled. “I remember. You told me it was pointless because you would not have need of it. But I forced you to dance with me and learn anyway.”
/> “You told me that I did not know the future, that I may need to know how to dance,” he reminded her.
She grinned at him and for a moment she was the girl in the field by the river, dancing with him. “It appears I was right.”
“Perhaps on that score.” He nodded as they walked forward between couples. “But if I recall, I only put up a little fight when it came to learning. I had to save face. But I wanted to dance with you. I wanted to hold your hands in mine.”
“How long…” she began before she shook her head. “Never mind.”
“How long have I loved you?” he asked on her behalf, reading her mind as he often had when they were children.
She shook her head fiercely. “Do not answer that. I should not have even begun to ask.” He opened his mouth but she took a step toward him, one that was not a part of the dance. “Please,” she pleaded. “I cannot hear.”
As the song came to an end, the answer echoed in his brain. Forever. I’ve loved you forever.
* * *
3
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* * *
THIS TIME, HE WATCHED HER GO. …
* * *
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CHAPTER THREE
Old Friends
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“T he dance is over,” Jane told John gently, removing her hand from his. “I promised someone else the next one.”
“Someone else,” he repeated numbly. So far, tonight had not gone the way John had expected it to. But then again, he did not know what his expectations were. He had spent most of his life squelching any expectations he ever had.
“The last time I saw you, you told me not to wait for you,” she told him as she raised her chin with more dignity than she felt. “I have taken that advice. You show up here without warning and you say things!” She had rarely gotten angry at him, though they’d had countless tiny fights over the years. But the passion in her now only made her more beautiful, so beautiful he ached with it. “You say things,” she repeated. “What did you expect?”
“Nothing,” he replied, before bowing in front of her. “You are right. Please accept my apologies.”
“Do not speak to me like a stranger,” she insisted as she stood before him, the dance floor clearing.
He shook his head ruefully. “I am trying to make a gracious exit. I cannot win with you.”
She smiled at him, the old softness in her eyes. “That is because you always let me win.”
He wanted to smile back, to make her laugh, to take her some place where they could really speak. But that was impossible here, in her world. There were no trees to climb or fields to flee to. So instead, he tried to be strong beneath his pain. He could bear most anything. “I believe you have another dance partner to find.”
“Will I see you again?” she could not help but ask. She hated that he was dismissing her, even though she had asked to be dismissed. He was giving her everything she wanted and yet she was so unhappy.
“I cannot say.” For a moment, the sadness he felt was clear in his eyes but then he blinked and it was gone. It was not fair to her. He bowed again and left her to find whatever rich and titled man she had promised the next dance to.
* * *
“If you two cannot stop staring at one another,” Ben began, when Jane took another break for refreshment. “People will start to notice and when people start to notice, they will also start to talk.”
“I do not know what you are referring to, Ben,” Jane replied tartly, though she could feel John’s eyes on her and knew exactly where in the room he stood, his hands held behind his back, asking no one else to dance.
“Please.” Ben rolled his eyes. “These things are incredibly boring. The two of you are making it interesting. But if I have noticed, that means it is not long until someone else notices.”
“I do not care,” she told him. “There is really nothing to talk about.”
“I doubt the two of you were able to catch up during a single dance,” Ben instigated. “And you were once the best of friends. He would have done anything for you.”
“We were friends,” Jane agreed carefully. “But he went away and perhaps it was for the best. Cat never approved.”
“It was not him she did not approve of, but any boy—or I should say man—being your closest confidant,” Ben corrected. “And speaking as a man, I understand her concerns. But perhaps John was the exception.”
Jane shrugged as if it did not matter.
“Well, come on then,” Ben urged, taking her hand and slipping it through his elbow as they made their way through the crowd. The ball would be ending soon, so he had a limited amount of time to help these two sad-eyed people.
“What are you doing?” Jane whispered as they walked closer to where John was standing. “Ben! Please. I do not know what to say to him. So much time has passed. I do not…” She had to stop because none of her excuses had stopped Ben from propelling her forward and they had reached John.
“Mr. Christopherson,” Ben began, so grandly that Jane wanted to roll her eyes. She caught herself just in time. “It has been so long since our families have seen one another, I wonder if you would take a stroll on the veranda with my younger sister and I?”
John dutifully bowed his head. He was unused to Ben’s strange habits. “Of course, Lord Wembley. It would be my honor.”
“Oh, do not be so formal!” Ben encouraged for the benefit of any ears that were listening for gossip. “After all, we have known one another a long time.” This was not exactly true. Ben had only become acquainted with him two years ago, but the Watson family had known him all their lives and since the Watson family was now his family, Ben hoped that would cover the lie. “Come along, old friend!”
Now, Jane did roll her eyes, as she walked in between the two men. She only hoped no one was listening.
The trio made their way out to the veranda, which had very few people on it. In the corner, in the shadows, a couple scurried away before anyone could note their identity when they realized others had joined them.
“I thought I could do everyone a favor and allow you two to catch up. Unfortunately, my wife has certain expectations of my chaperone duties. So, you will have to catch up while I am present.” Ben turned to John, who had flushed a little. “Sorry, old friend.”
Jane suddenly felt as if this would be Ben’s nickname for John, which only made her want to roll her eyes again. But maybe Trent was right and if she rolled them again, perhaps her face would freeze like that.
John coughed. “As you know, I took a position with the Viscount of Devane. Lord Marlington is a very distant relative of my family’s. Very distant,” he emphasized. “But with his wife long past and his son killed by Napoleon, he needed someone he could trust to help him with his business.” John shrugged. “I do not think he expected much from me when he sent for me. But I did the best I could. And…”
“You impressed him,” Jane surmised quietly. “Of course you did.” She wanted to smile. It did not surprise her in the least that someone would find John impressive.
“He is a good man but very alone.” John cleared his throat. “I think he likes the idea of training someone up in the business and in the way of things in general. So, I have helped him with his business.”
“And he is no longer alone, because he has you,” Jane guessed correctly as John nodded. “Your brothers are well?”
John grimaced. “As well as they can be under his roof. You know how he can be.” He glanced at Ben. He had no intention of sharing his family’s skeletons with Lord Wembley, no matter how good of a man he seemed.
“I could check on them for you,” Jane offered easily. “We are going back to Pritchford Place in a sennight.”
“No,” John interrupted quickly. He nearly reached for her hand but managed to stop himself. “I would never want you to go there.” He glanced at Lord Wembley to emphasize how serious he was. “It is not safe. Please
do not go there, especially without me present.”
Jane shifted when a gust of wind blew. She looked down at her slippers. She believed in honesty, in being upfront with her feelings. But she had never realized how hard it was when it really counted. To think of lectures she had given her sister, Julia and even Shep over the years! It was much harder than she ever knew. “And when will that be?”
John took a deep breath and shifted closer. He glanced at Lord Wembley, who appeared to be whistling and looking up at the stars, trying to abide his wife’s wishes while giving them as much space as possible. “My business is here.”
“You seem close with Lord Marlington. He would not allow you to go home?”
“You know that place was never a home,” John replied quietly. “And now… My father would not have me. There is nothing left for me there.”
Jane’s gaze snapped to his. “Oh,” she said. “Oh.” Hurt coursed through her.
“I was not speaking of you, of course,” John tried to explain.
“You really put your foot in it there, old friend,” Ben said under his breath while both Jane and John ignored him.
“Oh, both of you, please stop it!” Jane cried, a bit too loudly. “This is simply pointless! I do not even know why you and I,” she gestured to John. “are trying to pretend as if things could be as they once were. They will never be the same. You must not want them to be! It has been two years and you would be making more of an effort if it really mattered.”
Regency Romance: The Viscount's Blazing Love (Fire and Smoke: CLEAN Historical Romance) Page 3