by Julia Parks
She devoutly hoped not!
But no, he had been too busy considering his own plight with Mary. Evidently their attachment was a relationship of some time—and depth. And that was Mary’s reason for wanting to forego the trials of another Season in London.
What was Lady Pierce thinking? Mary had turned down at least two offers of which Jane was aware, and now she had found a man to love. What matter if he had little money He wasn’t penniless; neither was Mary. And Lady Pierce had three more daughters to launch!
Out loud, Jane muttered, “Matchmaking mothers can be so foolish!”
Devlin stopped and turned to her, that familiar twinkle in his dark brown eyes. “Since I know you can’t be referring to me, I shan’t take offence at that comment. But judging from your fierce expression, someone is in your black book.”
Jane’s laughter bubbled forth, and her smile was sincere. “Dreadful man! Where have you been?”
“To York first, to take my mother from the castle tower—at great risk to myself, I might add.”
“I must admit I’m glad the dragon didn’t win, sir.”
“Are you? I was afraid you might be cheering the dragon on after our last unfortunate encounter.”
“Unfortunate?” Jane said loudly. Then she looked about and lowered her voice. “A mild word for such an abominable prank, Lord Devlin.”
“Drew. My name is Drew,” he said, looking down on her.
“How nice for you, Lord Devlin.”
“You insist on torturing me, Jane?”
“I insist on being respectful and respected, sir.”
“Hmm. How dull, but l shall leave it at that for now.”
Jane let it pass. She didn’t wish to argue with anyone—even Lord Devlin—on her birthday. But she couldn’t refrain from asking, “Where are you taking me?”
He laughed. “We are making progress, you and I. Two months ago, you wouldn’t have taken two steps without questioning my motives. As a matter of fact, I want to introduce you to someone very special to me.”
Jane felt a vice close over her heart. Not only had she guessed wrong about Mr. Primrose but even Lord Devlin was about to defect. Where had he met this special someone?
Not that she cared. She couldn’t care less…could she?
But Jane had no time to answer this disturbing question as they were fast approaching a chattering group of older people seated on chairs in the shade of a towering oak. Two matrons sat a little apart from the others, and it was here that Devlin stopped.
“Your Grace,” he said, nodding to one lady whom Jane recognized as the Dowager Duchess of Wentworth. “I believe you said you had met Miss Jane Lindsay several years ago.”
“So I did, my boy, though I daresay Miss Lindsay has no recollection of it. It was during your first Season in London.”
“Thank you for remembering, Your Grace.”
“And this is my mother, Faith Peterson.”
Jane felt an immediate warmth from this lady as she looked into dark eyes that were so like her son’s. Jane smiled and dropped a curtsey to both ladies.
“Won’t you join us, Miss Lindsay?” said Mrs. Peterson.
Her voice was soft though Jane had no trouble hearing her. She was an attractive woman of fifty years or so and her dark hair, barely touched with grey, matched her eyes.
When Devlin had seated Jane, the dowager duchess barked, “Now, my boy, run along and bring me some of that iced champagne punch.”
“My pleasure, Your Grace.” He grinned at Jane as if to apologize for abandoning her.
But Jane was rarely discomfited in social situations. Actually, never was the correct word—with the exception of any situation that included Lord Devlin. But he was gone for the moment, and Jane began to enjoy her conversation with her new acquaintances.
“Drew has been telling me about your house, Miss Lindsay. He made me curious, so I looked it up in the guidebooks. It has quite a history,” said Mrs. Peterson.
“Yes, we are rather proud of that history.”
“It’s fine to be proud of one’s ancestors, but it’s the present that matters, I always say,” said Her Grace.
“Now, Martha, we mustn’t be rude.”
The duchess laughed and said to Jane, “Faith Peterson is another Dolly Ashmore. You will never hear a harsh word from her. She is always agreeable.”
“She is exaggerating, Miss Lindsay.”
“Not a word of it. Sometimes it makes me feel so cross, I try to goad her into a temper. But it has never worked, I promise you, not even when we were girls together.” With this, the duchess turned her attention to the conversation at the next table.
“I have had my moments, I assure you, Miss Lindsay. No one could be as saintly as Martha says.”
Jane smiled. “I do hope not. I would feel quite downcast to think anyone was that perfect. I sometimes have the most dreadful temper.”
“So I have heard,” said Mrs. Peterson, her gentle tones and friendly expression robbing her words of offence.
“No doubt.”
“Yes, Drew has been quite vocal, but then he always was. At times, I was very put out living in a household with several obstinate males, though Drew was as nothing compared to my brother-in-law. How I have missed Drew!”
Tears sprang to the older woman’s eyes.
Jane wondered how he could have left her all those years without so much as a thought. No wonder he was trying to make it up to her now. She could almost forgive him for trying to buy Heartland.
“You were very glad to see him again.”
“Glad? It was like a dream come true when I received his letter. He wanted to take me away immediately, but I told him to go to London and acquaint himself with society first. If they had rejected him, I would have—”
“But surely there was no question of his acceptance? As the heir of an earldom, he would be accepted everywhere.”
“Perhaps, but there was that incident—though it occurred so long ago. I have found many people have very long memories.” A shadow crossed her eyes before she shrugged it off and smiled at Jane again.
“Let us speak of happier times,” suggested Jane, afraid their conversation was taking too personal a turn. After all, she had no wish to know about Lord Devlin’s personal history “Are you here on a visit, or are you going to live in Bath?”
“Drew has taken a charming house in Laura Place. I am quite satisfied with it, but he, of course, wants something better for his mama. But we shall see.” She smiled in a way that suggested her wishes would be granted in the end. “You must come to tea one day.”
“I would love to, Mrs. Peterson. And perhaps Devlin will bring you to Heartland for a visit.”
“We’ll just have to see to it, Miss Lindsay.”
b
“See to what?” asked Drew as he handed each of them a glass of punch from the footman’s tray. He waved the servant toward the other tables and joined them.
“Miss Lindsay has kindly invited me to Heartland, and I said I would see if you might be persuaded, if you don’t mind, to take me one day soon.”
He raised a brow. “Are you certain I am included in Miss Lindsay’s invitation? I seem to recall…”
Jane blushed, but Drew couldn’t tell if it was anger or embarrassment that had brought the becoming colour to her cheeks. But he wouldn’t complete what he had been about to reveal about her previous ultimatum.
“Of course, you are included! Miss Lindsay is too gracious to exclude you, Drew, no matter what you may have done.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Peterson. Shall we say Thursday?”
“Lovely, I shall look forward to it.”
“Now, I really must go and pay my respects to Lady Pierce. She will be going up to London in two days’ time, and I must say goodbye. I’m very glad I met you, Mrs. Peterson.”
“And I you,” she responded, smiling kindly but with that same merry twinkle in her eyes.
Drew, however, had slipped into a dark mood. He stood u
p and bowed but didn’t say a word of farewell.
“She is lovely, Drew,” said his mother quietly.
“Yes, she is, but too damned self-possessed,” he muttered.
“Drew!”
“I beg your pardon, Mother. I forgot myself.”
“You wouldn’t want some empty-headed miss to share the cold evenings with, my dear.”
“Who said anything about sharing cold evenings? I only made that observation because it’s true. Sharing anything with Miss Jane Lindsay is the last thing on my mind.”
“If you say so, but it is odd how often she creeps into your conversation.”
“Nonsense. If I have mentioned her at all, it has been because of my desire to buy her estate. Since there’s no hope of that, I haven’t given her a moment’s thought.”
“Of course not,” she said, smiling into his scowling face.
“Bah! There’s no talking to you about it. You see orange blossoms every time I even mention a female’s name. I’ll leave you to your friends.”
b
Stopping here and there to greet other friends and to thank them for their birthday remembrances, Jane slowly made her way to Lady Pierce’s table. She was not looking forward to her conversation with that estimable lady, but she had promised Mr. Primrose, and she was always one to keep her promises.
Lady Pierce was seated under a bright yellow umbrella. Her hair was flame-red, though everyone agreed this was due to art rather than nature. Her gown was of bright purple satin. On her feet, she wore silver shoes with red lacquer heels, a fashion from some thirty years before. Surrounding her were half of the younger guests at the breakfast. Lady Pierce was what some people called eccentric. In reality, she simply loved bright things: bright colours and bright young people.
She greeted Jane warmly and offered a heavily rouged cheek for Jane to kiss.
“Lady Pierce, I had to speak to you before you leave. It will be dull around here without you and your family.”
“How kind of you to say so, Jane. But, of course, I know how you must be missing that darling girl, Cherry. I know I miss her myself. And Margery is devastated until she can rejoin her childhood friend.”
Jane made a suitable reply to this. In truth, she suspected Miss Margery was simply devastated because Cherry had a head start on her in London.
“I understand Mary doesn’t want to leave just now.”
“No, she has some strange notions, but as I told her, as soon as we get to London and she starts receiving all those invitations…Well, you know what it is like!”
“Perhaps you are right, but I thought Mary might enjoy a stay with me at Heartland. I know I would love the company, for as you just said yourself, it is terribly quiet without Cherry.”
The older woman appeared much struck by this, but she wagged a plump finger and whispered, “There is one problem with that, my dear. Mary has made an unsuitable attachment here in Bath, and I think it best if she distances herself from that young man.”
“Unsuitable? I see.”
“Oh, perhaps you don’t. It is…” She looked around at the bevy of young people laughing and talking, and she lowered her voice even further. “It is Mr. Primrose.” She sat back and nodded wisely, as if waiting for a shocked expression to appear on Jane’s face. When none did, Lady Pierce continued to whisper to impress upon Mary’s friend exactly how unfortunate such an attachment was. “He is in the clergy, you know. And they are always poor. Mary has a small annuity, but it would not be enough to live on.”
“True, but Mr. Primrose is hardly a pauper. And have you ever attended services when he gave the sermon?”
Lady Pierce, whose idea of a good sermon was a short sermon, rolled her eyes and nodded.
“Personally, I thought he was magnificent,” whispered Jane. “I’ve thought, why, this lowly curate may just one day be a bishop—a wealthy and powerful bishop.”
Jane awaited the effect of this disclosure patiently. Lady Pierce frowned, pondering this possibility.
“I wonder if the wife of a bishop receives many invitations from influential people?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“But he isn’t a bishop now.”
“No, but that really doesn’t matter. It won’t matter until there are children, grandchildren, to launch in society.”
“I don’t know. I would miss her so. In London, I mean.”
“Then why not announce an engagement today—tonight at the ball? Mary would be delighted to go to London then. She would need to go to London to shop for her trousseau. And you would have the pleasure of introducing only one unattached daughter.”
“I must think about this, Jane. Not a word to anyone, mind, until I’ve made up my mind.”
“You know I won’t breathe a word, Lady Pierce.” Jane rose and curtseyed before moving away.
b
“Miss Lindsay, do say you’ve saved a dance for me,” said Drew, his voice soft.
She laughed. “I have confessed to you my reputation for dancing, Lord Devlin. I’m afraid others are also aware of it. Therefore, I have almost all my dances left.”
“This one, I hope?” The musicians were beginning a waltz.
Jane nodded. “Don’t say you haven’t been duly warned.”
“You forget, I have danced the waltz with you once before.”
Jane looked up quickly, expecting the familiar twinkle in those dark eyes. She was unprepared for the passion mirrored there, and her breath quickened in response. She dropped her gaze as they took the floor, concentrating on her steps.
It was even easier than before as they glided around the room, twirling and turning until she felt quite giddy. They didn’t speak, but a dreamy smile formed on her lips, and she leaned back in Lord Devlin’s arms and studied his face. When the music ended, Jane felt as though she had awakened from a sweet sleep. Her smile froze and faded as the ballroom and its other occupants came into focus.
She was passed from one partner to another after that. Jane had always been popular, but it had been her ability to put people at ease that accounted for this, not her prowess on the dance floor. Not that some miracle had made her graceful now. She was still too stiff, but she felt capable of following the dance creditably after her success with Lord Devlin. He was quite a teacher.
Surreptitiously, Jane watched the viscount with other ladies. He was certainly at ease, but she failed to see any of his other partners lose themselves in his arms the way she had. She stumbled and her partner had to catch her up to prevent a mishap.
Jane, pay attention to this dance, this partner, or you’ll soon find yourself a wallflower.
Before Jane knew it, supper was being served. It was a buffet, a sumptuous array of meats and vegetables poached, sautéed, stuffed, and braised to perfection. Fresh fruits were arranged artistically between platters of cheeses and delectable pastries. Servants made certain wine glasses were never empty.
Jane’s presence had been requested at several tables, but Mary Aubrey took her arm and guided her to a table of young people. Mary was sitting between her mother and Mr. Primrose, and it took little effort on her part to discover that Lady Pierce had approved Mr. Primrose as her future son-in-law. In such a merry group, Jane had only to lend half an ear to the conversation. There were no deep literary or philosophical discussions to ponder, so she was at leisure to observe other tables. She turned after agreeing that yes, the Prince Regent was the kindest of hosts, and encountered Lord Devlin’s lazy gaze. How long had he been watching her? He continued to stare, never smiling precisely, but with a pleasant expression. He didn’t nod or acknowledge her in any way. Finally, Jane turned back to her own table.
A few minutes later, she looked again, but Lord Devlin’s table was empty. Jane waited impatiently for her own group to return to the ballroom though she wasn’t certain why. Lord Devlin hadn’t even spoken to her since their first dance. He had very likely gone home without giving her another thought.
She didn’t care if he had thou
gh she looked this way and that to locate him among the many guests. She was becoming much too concerned with the viscount. She would simply ignore him for the remainder of the evening.
“Miss Lindsay, I have heard a rumour about your friend, Mary Aubrey. It is said that she is to marry Mr. Primrose.”
Jane pivoted and looked into Lord Devlin’s dark moody eyes. “Yes, I believe we may wish them happy.”
“We? So you wish them happy, also? I had thought—”
“Yes, Lord Devlin, what did you think?”
“It appeared this afternoon that you and Mr. Primrose were on intimate terms.”
“How dare you?”
“I said it appeared. Apparently, I was mistaken.”
“I should think so! I agreed to speak on his behalf—but I shouldn’t be telling you this. It is none of your concern, Lord Devlin.”
“Probably not, but I couldn’t help overhearing you speak of writing or some such thing.”
“That was a misunderstanding on my part.” The music began again, and Jane looked wistfully at the couples taking the floor. She longed to dance with him again. But it was only because he made her feel so graceful that she didn’t even have to mind her steps when she was in his arms. But Jane was only too aware of social conventions. She would never dream of asking the viscount to dance.
Lord Devlin’s eyes followed her gaze. “Might I have this dance, Miss Lindsay?”
“Certainly, Lord Devlin,” she answered eagerly then chided herself for sounding like a gauche schoolgirl. What was the matter with her lately?
It was impossible to think as Jane became lost in the heady steps of the waltz. There was some quality about this man, this Devilish Devlin that made her lose herself in his embrace. She had never felt so free.
Jane looked up and smiled dreamily.
He pulled her closer, but Jane didn’t have the will to protest. His eyes drifted from her face to her chest. Propriety nagged at her again, but her eyes fluttered shut, and she didn’t speak. Now was not the time for worrying, not when she was enjoying herself so.