The matter was settled. Alex let out a long breath. He would continue to promote the betrothal, although perhaps in a more subtle way. Miss Verey would soon conform and then all this fuss could be forgotten. Alex frowned. The decision should have cleared his mind, but for some reason he still felt vaguely dissatisfied. This had to be Jane Verey’s fault in some vague way that he could not specify. What a stubborn and opinionated chit! Who would have thought that the henwitted Clarissa Verey would have bred so unconventional a daughter?
He had reached the portico of Haye House and as he was about to start up the steps an extraordinary thing happened. He suddenly remembered with perfect clarity the softness of Jane Verey’s body within his embrace, the translucent radiance of her skin and the dazzling challenge in those wide green eyes. His imagination, normally firmly subject to his reason, presented him with the further image of Jane held naked in his arms, her lips parted beneath his own. It was so vivid and shocking an impression that he stopped dead. The immediate ache in his body told him that the idea held instant appeal.
‘Damn it all to hell,’ Alex said forcibly, and raised his hand to knock with far more violence than was necessary.
‘Oh, Jane!’ Sophia curled up on the end of Jane’s bed, leaning her chin on one hand. ‘Was that not the most exciting evening you have spent in an age? And is not Lord Philip the most-’ She broke off, blushing a little. ‘I know that he left Ambergate with indecent haste,’ she said in a rush, ‘and he has admitted to me that his behaviour was not that of a gentleman, but…oh, surely he cannot be all bad! He seemed to me to be charming and lively and…oh, everything a high-spirited young man should be!’
Jane put down her hairbrush with a smile, looking at her friend in the mirror. ‘I saw that you were enjoying his conversation,’ she teased. ‘I think that you had a better evening than I!’
Sophia’s eyes sparkled in the candlelight. ‘Yes, for you were obliged to be kind to that awesome Duke! Oh, but Lord Philip and I had a hundred-and-one things to talk about! It seemed as though we had known each other forever!’ A slight frown entered her eyes. ‘Dearest Jane, you do not mind, do you?’
Jane shook her head. ‘No,’ she said with perfect truth, ‘I do not mind for myself. But…’ she hesitated ‘…did Lord Philip tell you that his brother has plans for his future-very definite plans?’
‘Yes-’ Sophia hugged her knees ‘-but I am persuaded that I need have no concern over the Duke’s plans to marry Lord Philip off! You see…’ she looked suddenly shy ‘…Lord Philip can marry no one but me! Oh, Jane, he is the man I dreamed about all those years ago on St Agnes Eve! As soon as I saw him I recognised him at once!’
Chapter Four
Jane stared at her friend in stupefaction. ‘Oh, no! Surely that was just a childish game!’
As soon as she had spoken she saw Sophia’s face fall.
‘But, Jane, I thought that you did not mind! You just said-’
‘I know!’ Jane put out a hasty hand to touch Sophia’s. ‘I do not mind for myself, dearest Sophia, for you know that Lord Philip and I would not suit! But the legend of the Eve of St Agnes is just that-a legend! It cannot be true!’
Sophia was looking distinctly obstinate. ‘All I know is that I dreamed of Lord Philip that night and now I have met him! It seems quite simple to me!’
Jane knew that there was no arguing with her. Sophia was a sweet girl but she could be frighteningly stubborn at times. Besides, who was to say that it was not true? Sophia had dreamed of a handsome young man and now she thought that she had met him. She had certainly tumbled into love. What was more surprising was that Lord Philip appeared equally smitten. Jane, remembering the bad-tempered young man who had visited Ambergate, suddenly wondered whether it had been frustration and anger that had made Philip behave as he had. Certainly Alexander Delahaye was imperious enough to try the patience of a saint, as Jane herself had discovered, and if he had pushed Philip beyond endurance…
She moved over to give Sophia an impulsive hug. ‘Oh, Sophy, I’m sorry! I did not mean to appear disbelieving! I am very happy for you!’
Sophia hugged her back, her spirits restored at once. ‘Jane, it is so exciting! I am just sorry that you did not dream of your future husband that night! That would have been marvellous!’
Jane tried not to smile. ‘Well, to tell the truth I did dream of a man that night, but-’
Sophia clutched her. ‘Jane! Why did you not tell me? Who was he?’
Jane dropped her gaze. ‘It was nothing, Sophy! I woke in the night and saw a man in the corridor and then I dreamed about him, but it turned out that he was just one of my parents’ guests…’
Sophia’s brow was furrowed. She focused on the one point of importance. ‘Yes, but, Jane, who was he?’
‘It was the Duke of Delahaye,’ Jane said reluctantly.
Sophia squeaked and clapped her hand to her mouth. Above it, her eyes were huge and round. ‘Jane! The Duke! But-’
‘I told you that the legend could not be true!’ Jane said urgently. ‘Besides, I was awake when I saw him, and although I dreamed of him later I am sure that it does not count.’
Sophia was not so sure. She shook her head stubbornly. ‘But you went to bed without supper? You did not look behind you?’
‘No,’ Jane admitted, wishing she had never mentioned it. ‘It’s true that I did those things, but-’
‘Then it must be true!’ Sophia’s blue eyes widened even further. ‘Oh, Jane, the Duke of Delahaye! Only think!’
Jane was thinking. With a shiver that was half-fear, half-pleasure, she remembered the curious attraction that Alex Delahaye held for her. Would it be so terrible to be married to him? Then she remembered that he wanted her to marry his brother and that he was still in love with his dead wife. How many reasons did she need to prove that it was all foolish superstition? She slid into her bed.
‘It has to be nonsense, Sophy,’ she said firmly. ‘If Alexander Delahaye proves to be my future husband you may have that pair of silk gloves of mine that you so admire-yes, and the straw bonnet with the matching ribbons! That is how certain I am that it will never come true!’
It seemed that Sophia was as anxious to see Lord Philip again as Jane was to avoid him. Jane heard her friend humming at the breakfast table and noticed a distinctly dreamy look on Sophia’s face as she picked at her buttered eggs. When the visitors started to arrive, Sophia’s blue gaze was riveted on the door in much the same way as a dog watches for its master, her face falling as each new arrival proved not to be the man she wanted to see. A whole procession of sharp-eyed mamas and their hopeful daughters were filling up the pink drawing-room and still Lord Philip did not come.
The hum of conversation and clash of teacups grew ever louder. Several ladies noted Lord Philip’s absence and teased Jane about it, their false smiles not quite reaching their eyes. A number of the daughters were casting a thoughtful eye over Simon, who had the look of a man wishing he could remember a pressing engagement elsewhere. More than one debutante was sighing soulfully over Alex Delahaye and his sad romantic history.
The door opened and Lord Philip came in. The assembled ladies cooed a little with pleasure. Jane moved unobtrusively across to a group of debutantes and inserted herself in the middle, making sure that there was nowhere for Lord Philip to sit. She saw Lady Verey glance over in her direction with a meaningful look, then turned her shoulder and pretended to be engrossed in the conversation. When she looked up again, Jane saw that Lord Philip had taken the seat by Sophia, who was pink with suppressed joy.
Lady Verey was not so pleased. When the drawing-room had emptied of their guests, she took her daughter firmly to task.
‘Jane Verey, I do declare you can be the most provoking girl!’ she chided. ‘Lord Philip came here especially to see you! If you think to provoke his interest by appearing unconcerned, you are only being foolish! A gentleman needs some encouragement-a smile here, a soft word there. Try to be more pleasing!’
&nbs
p; Jane bit back the retort that Lord Philip was receiving as much encouragement as he needed from a different source. Sophia had turned quite pale at Lady Verey’s attack and was now trying to pretend that she could not hear. With a murmured word of excuse, she slipped out of the room. Lady Verey barely seemed to notice.
‘Surely, Mama,’ Jane said mildly, ‘you can see that Lord Philip has no wish for my company-no more than I have for his! We are not suited.’
Lady Verey looked affronted. ‘Not suited! What nonsense is this? It is my dearest wish that Lord Philip should renew his attentions! Now, he will be at Lady Winterstoke’s dinner tomorrow and I expect to see an improvement in your manner towards him, Jane! Pray show him some partiality!’
‘Excuse me, my lady.’ Golding, the butler, had soft-footed into the room. ‘There is a posy here for Miss Jane.’ He snapped his fingers and the footman hurried forward, carrying a small but exquisite bouquet of tight pink roses.
Lady Verey’s irritated face broke into a smile. ‘From Lord Philip, no doubt! I expect he was too shy to present it himself, the foolish boy!’
Jane took the posy, wondering at her mother’s championing of a man who had been so offensive to her only a month before. No doubt Lady Verey had conveniently ascribed Lord Philip’s behaviour to a temporary aberration or boyish high spirits. She had to agree, however, that the flowers were beautiful, each tiny bud a deep pink colour and on the point of unfurling. She extracted the card and handed the flowers back to the footman to put in water. Much as she would like to send them back, it seemed a churlish gesture and Lady Verey would never permit it. She could not resist a certain curiosity to see the message. What could Lord Philip say to her that would not appear either rude or insincere?
The bold black writing had come from another pen, however. It was not an apology, only a name: Alexander Delahaye.
Jane caught her breath and pressed the card to her chest in case her mother was about to snatch it from her. Lady Verey was still twittering on about Lord Philip and his thoughtful choice of flowers and Jane did not contradict her. She excused herself as quickly as possible and flew up the stairs to her bedroom. The posy was already on a side table by the window, its pink buds just tinged with gold. Jane hesitated. She could have torn the card into pieces and thrown it away, but instead she placed it carefully in a drawer, on a bed of silk ribbons.
The sensation at Lady Winterstoke’s dinner was caused not by the presence of Lord Philip Delahaye but by that of his elder brother. For years the hostesses of the ton had tried to entice the Duke of Delahaye from his self-imposed seclusion, offering him the most tempting food and the best company. For years he had rejected all invitations. Yet that evening he arrived with Lord Philip in a convincing show of brotherly unity and caused Lady Winterstoke positively to crow with triumph.
Jane’s heart had sunk when she saw them come in. It seemed that the Duke and his brother must be forever dogging her steps and spoiling things for her. After all, it was Alexander Delahaye’s avowed intent to wear down her resistance until she capitulated and agreed to the marriage. She had spent much time thinking of the bouquet he had sent her and had come to the practical conclusion that it was an attempt to soften her feelings towards the match. Well-her pretty face set into lines of obstinate disapproval-it would not work! No matter how romantic it had seemed at first, in truth it was just another means by which Alex Delahaye hoped to manipulate her!
Accordingly, she was looking very severe when Lady Winterstoke brought the Duke and Lord Philip over to them as the guests assembled before dinner.
‘I was about to inquire how you were enjoying yourself, Miss Verey,’ Alex said lazily, once greetings had been exchanged, ‘but you look so forbidding that I hardly dare! Can it be that Town does not agree with you?’
Jane checked to see whether her mother was listening. Fortunately Lady Verey was intent on engaging Lord Philip in innocuous conversation and deflecting his attention from Sophia. She gave the Duke a dazzling smile. ‘Well, your Grace, it is not all bad, I suppose! The theatres and concerts are great fun but the company is sadly lacking-it seems to be the same people saying the same things to each other at the same events!’
Alex smiled. ‘That’s frank, Miss Verey! You are not afraid to blight your social position by appearing an eccentric? Young ladies are meant to be bowled over by the sophisticated charms of the Town, you know!’
‘It seems to me that a lot of nonsense is talked about Society!’ Jane said judiciously. ‘If people enjoy the company and the entertainments then so be it, but if they prefer other pursuits then they should be allowed their choice!’
‘How singular,’ Alex said thoughtfully, ‘and how true! You are quite fearless, are you not, Miss Verey? I know of no other lady who would express such a view even if they believed it!’
‘Yet you yourself do not succumb to the charms of Society a great deal, if the stories are true,’ Jane pointed out, feeling at the same time that her tongue was probably running away with her again. ‘I had heard that the Duke of Delahaye chooses to immure himself in his northern stronghold with only his books for company!’
‘And his faithful dogs,’ Alex added. ‘Do not forget the dogs, Miss Verey! What else do they say of me?’
‘Oh, many things,’ Jane said, plying her fan, ‘but none of them appropriate for a young lady to repeat in company!’
They laughed together, stopped together and stood looking at each other in a silence that seemed curiously loaded. Only a foot away, Sophia was chattering to Philip and Lady Verey was gossiping with one of her acquaintances. Jane made an effort to break the silence.
‘I must thank you for the flowers, sir. They were very beautiful.’
‘They reminded me of you,’ Alex said abruptly. ‘Excuse me, Miss Verey.’
Jane was left feeling breathless and disconcerted. She had imagined him a man accustomed to paying light compliments, but his unexpected words and hasty departure had none of the polish that might have been expected. Frowning a little, she watched him cross the room, spare a word for a distinguished gentleman in uniform, then be artfully ambushed by a dashing blonde in a clinging scarlet silk dress. Jane felt a vague depression settle on her.
Excusing herself to her mother, Jane slipped away to the ladies’ withdrawing room so that she should not be obliged to make stilted conversation with Lord Philip. Whilst tweaking her curls back into place, she reflected that the Duke was likely to be one step ahead of her in arranging for his brother to escort her in to dinner. The seating would no doubt be in order of precedence but, at a word from Alex Delahaye, Lady Winterstoke would gladly rearrange her table plan. Peeking down the corridor to confirm that she was not being watched, Jane decided to detour via the dining-room and examine the place cards.
Her suspicions had been justified. Lord Philip’s place was set beside hers and he was a long way away from Sophia for good measure. Jane made a little adjustment and was on her way back to the drawing-room when, in the doorway, she collided abruptly with a broad chest.
‘Oh!’
‘We meet again, Miss Verey,’ the Duke of Delahaye said, in the deceptively soft tones that Jane had already come to distrust. ‘Have you lost something?’
‘No!’ Jane knew that a guilty blush was staining her cheeks. ‘That is-I lost my way!’
‘I see. I had thought that your penchant for food had led you to try to steal a march on the rest of us!’
Jane looked surprised. ‘Who told you that I enjoyed my food, sir?’
‘Why, I believe that it was my aunt, Lady Eleanor. She commented that you had a sweet tooth.’ Alex offered her his arm and they strolled back across the hall towards the drawing-room. ‘No doubt it was ungallant in me to mention it, but I have to confess that you look very good on it, Miss Verey! Not all young ladies are fortunate enough to be able to eat as they choose and not look the worse for it!’
Jane, relieved that he had not discovered her activities in the dining-room and guilty at spinni
ng another tale, started to colour once again. Alex was watching her with undisguised interest.
‘I am not sure whether it is guilt or pleasure that makes you look so, Miss Verey! If only it were my poor compliments that put you to the blush!’
Jane found herself unable to resist responding in kind. ‘I am sure that most young ladies would be overcome to be the object of your gallantry, your Grace!’ she said sweetly.
‘But not you, Miss Verey? No doubt that is your implication!’
‘Alas, I have always been told that I am not like all the rest!’ Jane said innocently. ‘You said so yourself!’ She dropped him a neat curtsy and went to join her mother, managing not to look back at him over her shoulder.
Alex watched her go. ‘No, indeed,’ he said softly, under his breath. ‘You are not like anyone else, Miss Verey! I would venture to say that you are completely original!’
The butler arrived to announce that dinner was served. Jane was delighted to see Alex move away to attend to his duties as escort to a Dowager Countess in regal purple. She confidently expected that that would leave the field clear for her to exchange partners. Next, Lady Verey was claimed by an elderly baronet, who seemed flatteringly pleased at his good luck. That got rid of the final obstacle to Jane’s plan. All it required now was for Lord Philip to be recalled to his duty as her escort. Unfortunately he seemed disinclined to leave Sophia’s side. Jane wondered whether he meant to cut her anyway, and thought this would be rather funny after all the trouble she had gone to. But no, Sophia was gently encouraging her beau to relinquish her and escort her friend. As Lord Philip approached, Jane stepped forward to intercept him.
Miss Verey’s Proposal Page 7