The Viscount's Wayward Son: A Regency Romance (Ladies of the North Book 2)
Page 25
As the footman handed her out of the carriage, Jane stood transfixed by the elegant estate. Griffins stood watch over the ornate stone doorway, their cold stone eyes surveying everything and everyone who approached. They were fierce and should have been frightening, she realized, but Jane was strangely pleased with them. They seemed to be keeping watch. It really was a grand old house with a stately charm.
In that moment, Lady Charlotte appeared under the arch of the doorway, her face lighting up with pleasure as she saw Jane. Charlotte squealed and rushed to hug her friend, catching her hands and sizing up her person.
“Oh, Jane! I’m so glad you could come. Helen and I said we would wait up for you if you were late, but Mother forbade it. She said we needed our beauty sleep.”
Helen, Jane remembered was one of Charlotte’s sisters.
“Well, you do,” said a slender girl who came up behind Lady Charlotte. In the moment, Jane could not remember which sister she was, Helen or Alice.
“I simply cannot wait for the ball,” Charlotte gushed. “Everyone will be here, absolutely everyone. Oh, Jane I could just die with the anticipation.”
The other girl turned up her nose and Jane realized that she was Lady Alice, the younger sister, who was not yet out. To have such a party in one’s own home and not be allowed to attend, must be quite trying, Jane thought. She resolved to be especially kind to the younger girl.
Without stopping to think about it, Jane stood on tiptoes to take one of the cases being handed down by the carriage driver when another set of arms reached up and took it for her, right over her head. She turned, expecting to find a servant, only to have her first sight of the Earl of Keegain, for it was surely he.
Jane saw the family resemblance to Lady Charlotte immediately, and surely no servant would wear such fine garments. His overcoat was crafted from the finest gray wool. Her breath caught in her throat. Lord Keegain was not much taller than she was, which was surprising, since Jane was certainly not a tall woman. They were so much the same height that she could look directly into his beautiful hazel eyes. He had the longest lashes she had ever seen, except of course for Lady Charlotte. His cheerful smile drew her instantly.
The earl was not as she had been led to believe by his sisters. It occurred to Jane belatedly that siblings were not always accurate in their estimations of their brothers and sisters. By Lady Charlotte’s descriptions, Lord Keegain was dowdy and slow. Jane had taken that to mean he would not likely be handsome, and yet she found him endearingly so.
She wondered what other details Charlotte had omitted, or gotten entirely wrong. She caught her breath, stepping out of his way, watching as the earl took her case and handed it to the footman, who said, quietly, “I will take that, my lord.”
Jane realized she had already made a social gaffe. She should have allowed the footman to do his job, but she could not be concerned with that, not when such a gentleman stood by her side.
Lord Keegain was several years older than his sisters, Jane remembered, though he did not look it. What else had Lady Charlotte said… that he kept to himself, with his books and figures? His young sister said that Lord Keegain was quite the dullard, but how could Jane trust such outlandish statements when the earl was obviously not dowdy, nor did he seem particularly slow. There was a spark in his eyes that belayed the sharp mind behind them.
The earl caught her staring and smiled, sending a warm thrill through her. He returned her gaze, studying her as if he were taking an investigation for the Crown. Jane blushed and turned away, though she could still feel his eyes upon her as if they could somehow touch her very soul.
“Jane, you must meet my brother.” Lady Charlotte said, turning to make introductions.
Jane curtseyed, positive that her cheeks were flaming crimson as the earl bent over her gloved hand. It was impossible of course, but she could swear she felt his kiss sear her through the soft leather of her kid gloves. For a moment she couldn’t breathe and had to look away although the warmth of his hand lingered long after he released her fingers.
Her face still felt warm, the remnants of the blush continuing. Perhaps he would just think her cheeks were red from the cold.
“Welcome to Kennett Park, Miss Bellevue. I do hope you enjoy your stay,” the earl said smoothly.
His voice was everything she had expected, deep with silken tones that washed over her, leaving her insides melting. Perfection. He was perfection. How had Lady Charlotte not told her so?
Their gaze caught and held. Jane’s heart was racing. She knew in that moment that she most certainly would enjoy her visit. In fact, if he would have her, she would marry this man. She grinned at the thought.
The earl turned away, speaking briefly to the footman about which rooms they would occupy. How silly she must appear to convey such emotion so openly upon their first meeting. She attempted to gather her wits, but her face simply would not co-operate. Surely, Lady Charlotte would understand and be glad for her.
Jane turned to share these things with her friend, and saw for the first time, the second figure upon the step beside Lady Alice. The tall blonde woman projected an air of elegance and refinement; her expression cool and implacable.
“Dearest, do come in out of the cold,” she said.
Her words were addressed to Lord Keegain, but Jane’s heart dropped as Lady Charlotte hurried into the house with Jane in tow. She turned to introduce the unknown lady, for a lady she most certainly was. “Jane, this is Lady Margret Fairfax, my brother’s intended,” Lady Charlotte said.
There it was. In the space of less than a dozen words, Jane’s world had ended. Her smile faltered. Somehow she managed to curtsey properly, but all the words of welcome became a buzz in her ears as the earl took the arm of his betrothed and led her into the house leaving Jane feeling bereft.
Whatever Charlotte said as she drew her into the house, Jane never so much as heard. How could she, when in the space of mere minutes she had found the very thing that had made her world complete, only to lose him in the next instant?
Jane forced a smile. She could not be rude. It did not matter that the most interesting gentleman she had ever laid eyes upon was already engaged and his bride-to-be was looking daggers at her. She let Lady Charlotte lead her into the house with Mrs. Poppy following chatting animatedly with the footmen and the ladies alike. There would be other gentlemen Jane promised herself, but it was an empty promise. She felt entirely hollow.
Continue reading….
Winning Lady Jane ~ A Christmas Regency Romance
by Isabella Thorne
Want Even More Regency Romance…
Follow Isabella Thorne on BookBub
or
Visit my Amazon Author Page
Sign up for my VIP Reader List!
To receive weekly updates from Isabella and an
Exclusive Free Story
Click Here to Join Isabella Thorne’s VIP Readers
www.isabellathorne.com
Please Like Isabella Thorne on Facebook
https://www.facebook.com/isabellathorneauthor/
Also By Isabella Thorne
The Ladies of Bath
Winning Lady Jane ~ A Christmas Regency Romance
The Duke’s Daughter ~ Lady Amelia Atherton
The Baron in Bath ~ Miss Julia Bellevue
The Deceptive Earl ~ Lady Charity Abernathy
The Ladies of the North
The Duke’s Winter Promise ~ A Christmas Regency Romance
The Viscount’s Wayward Son
The Hawthorne Sisters
The Forbidden Valentine ~ Lady Eleanor
The Baggington Sisters
The Countess and the Baron ~ Prudence
Almost Promised ~ Temperance
The Healing Heart ~ Mercy
The Lady to Match a Rogue ~ Faith
Nettlefold Chronicles
Not Quite a Lady; Not Quite a Knight
Stitched in Love
Other Novels by Isabella Thorne
>
The Mad Heiress and the Duke ~ Miss Georgette Quinby
The Duke’s Wicked Wager ~ Lady Evelyn Evering
Short Stories by Isabella Thorne
Love Springs Anew
The Mad Heiress' Cousin and the Hunt
Mischief, Mayhem and Murder: A Marquess of Evermont
Mistletoe and Masquerade ~ 2-in-1 Short Story Collection
Colonial Cressida and the Secret Duke ~ A Short Story