“You should not speak to me thus, especially here.”
“I must as I shall not have your attention long now that he has arrived.”
“Who is that, milord?”
“Your paramour, the marquis.”
She scanned the room as best she could in the turns, and finally found the man favored by her sister. He stood near the door of the cardroom, scowling at her. She finished the waltz in silence and declined having an escort to her Mother. As she walked toward the chairs favored by the matrons, the marquis stepped away from a group of gentlemen, right in her path.
“You are exquisite tonight, my dear.” He bowed formally and kissed her hand, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “The gate by the mews. One o’clock. I’ll be waiting.”
Her eyes widened. “The garden?”
“Put on a warm wrap and slip away. I must speak to you in private. ’Tis urgent that we have this conversation tonight. I cannot wait any longer.”
Ah, the long-awaited proposal and at the end of the ball. How appropriate.
“I shall see you then, sir.” She kept her voice low, flirting with her eyes above the fan.
He smiled in a most feral way. “You certainly shall.” He dropped her hand and disappeared.
She made her way slowly into the area where her next partner awaited but was intercepted by Lady Siltsbury. “My dear, do we have news?” She seemed as eager as Jocelyn, perhaps more so.
“I am to meet him in the garden when the ball ends. He said he cannot wait any longer to have a most important conversation.”
Mother put her palms in front of her mouth, and Jane wondered if the woman might faint from lack of air. “Lord Beaumont awaits as he is your next partner and will be joining us at our table. Beaumont is harmless. He hasn’t seen Jocelyn in months and has poor eyesight. You could be in rags, and he wouldn’t notice unless he has his spectacles on.”
“Is he to take me into supper? It is the supper dance.”
“Lord Ralston will do it as planned. He’ll find you as soon as the dance ends.”
“Very well, I shall wait to tell Jocelyn later.”
“No need. I shall tell her. Now be off with you.” She dashed away in a flurry of excitement.
Beaumont found Jane and gave her his hand. Ralston nodded in her direction, and she went once again to the dance floor. The gentleman did not comment on her attire or her dancing. Instead he concentrated on the steps, grinning every time they came together.
“You are quite accomplished at the quadrille, sir.”
“Why thank you. Most generous. A compliment.” They finished the rest of the dance without conversing, and at the end, he handed her to Ralston. She sighed with relief. The evening was almost over. Just a few more hours and she could burn these silver slippers, remove all the pins from her hair, and hope she would be able to walk come tomorrow.
“Are you enjoying your birthday, Lady Jocelyn.”
“Very much so, Lord Ralston.” She nodded to one of the gossipy dowagers he’d warned her about, a woman who peered intently at her as if she knew Jane was an imposter.
Ralston seated her and went to fetch her a plate. She used the practiced half smile when Beaumont took his seat and handed her yet another glass of champagne. She would merely sip this one. She was not used to so many libations, and she feared a headache along with aching feet in the morning.
“Did you bring your spectacles, Lord Beaumont?”
“You know I do not wear them in company, Lady Jocelyn, although I can. I do have them on my person.”
“No, no. Not necessary. I can enjoy your company as you are.”
“That’s the second compliment you’ve paid me, my lady. If I didn’t know better, I would think you were setting your cap for me.”
Jane gulped and hoped her mortification did not show. Ralston returned and set food in front of her. “Eat up. You still have a few who wish to dance with you.”
Beaumont excused himself and headed for the buffet. The gossipy woman—Lady Witherspoon—took his seat. “Lord Ralston. So good to see you. How is your friend Lord Cardmore faring? I hear his country home has been renovated.”
“Not completely, but many modern conveniences have been installed. He and his countess are well, as are his children.”
Lady Witherspoon turned to Jane. “And where is your dear mother? I expected her to be seated with you.”
“She, er, must be seeing to the food. Such a perfectionist, is Mother. She wants everything to be just right.”
“I believe the evening has been quite a success.” She took out a lorgnette and peered at Jane. “Have you been outdoors without your bonnet? Your complexion appears to be a different shade than it was last week when I came to tea.”
Ralston entered the conversation. “She has, and her mother has given her a good scold. Jocelyn does like to stroll about the garden bareheaded.”
“On days with sun it feels good on my face.”
The woman scowled. “I wasn’t aware that you were fond of strolling outdoors, my dear. One learns something new every day.”
How well did the woman know Jocelyn? She was Mother’s age and would not have been one of Jocelyn’s companions. Beaumont returned, and the woman turned her conversation toward him, sparing Jane from having to be on her toes. When everyone took to eating, the woman rose and, with a final perusal, took her leave.
“Lady Witherspoon always has interesting conversation, does she not?” Mr. Beaumont commented between bites of his lobster patty. “She’s a dreadful gossip. I wonder if she will speculate on whether or not we are a pair, Lady Jocelyn.”
She choked on her bite of roll, and Ralston patted her back. “Are you quite all right?”
“I am, sir. I swallowed incorrectly.”
Lady Siltsbury did not return immediately. Probably planning Jocelyn’s wedding. Jane finished her dinner, her feet enjoying the reprieve, and made her way back to the ballroom to meet her next partner. Her guardian remained at her side, telling her the next dancer would be a man who distinguished himself in the recent war. In France.
As time passed and the ball ground to an end, the numbers dwindled until the orchestra played their final selection. Jane had danced every dance and was ready to drop. But she had one more task to complete.
“I’m going out to get a breath of air,” she told Ralston. “The night is warmer than it’s been lately, so I shan’t need my cloak.”
“Why are you going out now?”
“Didn’t dearest Mother tell you? I’m receiving my long-awaited proposal.”
“No, she did not. Where is this proposal to take place?”
“In the garden near the mews. He said it can’t wait.”
Ralston scowled. “Go. I shall give you ten minutes, and then I will come out to find you. I’ll make a great deal of noise so as not to surprise anyone.”
Jane laughed, forgetting to mimic her twin. She slapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh dear. I hope no one heard me laugh.”
“Your mother is bidding the last of the guests good night, so be off with you. I don’t have a timepiece with me, but I am a good judge of time. And remember, Jane. You can handle anything if the rogue gets too familiar.”
“I’ve been taught well.”
She slipped out into the night.
Chapter 29
Siltsbury House had a long garden that ended at the gate to the mews, and it was lined with ornamental trees and plants. Jane, posing as Jocelyn, had found it quite charming during a brief daytime stroll. In the dark, it was ominous, the shapes taking the form of various creatures as she dashed along the flat stones laid out in a straight line to the gate.
When she reached the gate, she sat on the bench. A breeze rustled branches of trees nearby. A night bird called out, sounding mournful
to Jane in her current mood.
Where was Leisterbridge? Did he change his mind?
She shivered as a sharp gust brushed her bare shoulders. She wished now she’d brought her cloak. When the gate creaked, she jumped. He’d come. She hoped the darkness would hide any mistake she might make during her impersonation.
“There you are, my love. I didn’t see you.” A shape formed in the darkness and sat on the bench next to her. Aubrey took her hand and kissed it through the glove. “What a pretty picture you made tonight in your extravagant gown as you danced your way through your birthday. I longed to be one of your partners, but thought it best to let others have their fill of you before you became mine.”
There it was. He was about to propose, and Jocelyn would one day become a duchess. She was happy for her twin, although the sight of this man brought out a revulsion she couldn’t fathom. He was handsome and well-spoken. He had confidence and connections. Jocelyn would never have a financial or social care in the world once they wed. But something about him was off.
She tilted her head as her sister might and considered her words carefully, making sure she had the right inflection. “You are a flatterer, sir. What did you want to speak about?”
“Surely you know.” He lifted her onto his lap, and Jane, reeling from initial shock, was mortified to feel a hard ridge beneath her backside. His lips covered hers, hard and demanding, while his free hand cupped her breast. Wanting to squirm away, she found she was unable to move, so for Jocelyn’s sake she swallowed her nausea and allowed the familiarity, hoping she wouldn’t gag. When he drew back, she sputtered, “This is most improper.”
“Come now. You know you want this. You want me. You enjoyed our assignation at Lady Morley’s ball not two weeks ago. You’ve made it known to all of our friends you are expecting a proposal. Even your mama has hinted she would like an alliance between our families. Too bad my father is so high in the instep. But there’s still a way we can both have what we desire.”
“Is that a formal proposal, sir?”
“Perhaps an informal one, as there are many types of proposals, are there not?”
“What do you mean?” She batted her eyelashes. She was not enjoying this and wished he’d make his declaration so she could go back into the house and remove his scent from her person. At least his wandering hand was now by his side. She’d never admired more those women who plied their trade as actresses. Acting in a farce was not her forte.
“You want the words? You shall have them. You have intrigued and beguiled me, and I am now yours. Are you willing to be mine? Do say yes, my darling. I can wait no longer.”
Finally.
“Yes. It would be my honor.”
She expected another wet kiss. Instead he picked her up and carried her toward the gate. Her heart raced, and she lost her accent in her panic. “What are you doing? Put me down.”
“I think not. This is so much more romantic.” He kicked open the gate where a carriage was waiting and nearly threw her into the open door, following close behind. Where was Ralston? Surely ten minutes had elapsed.
The carriage lurched forward.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To Gretna Green, or so your mother will assume. Do you think my father would allow me to marry the granddaughter of a cit? Of course not. He’d believe the line tainted by trade. No, you and I shall travel the North Road as if heading for Scotland and then detour to a place I use. No one will know. Your mama will think we eloped.”
Stifling the desire to cry out, she slowed her breaths. If she was to prevent a disaster, she had to have her wits about her.
“I do not think this is a good idea. If you do not mean to marry me, stop this carriage and let me out right now.”
“Oh, I think not. You want me. I want you. There’s no reason why we cannot enjoy each other.”
He put his arm around her neck and his hand once again on her breast and tried to kiss her. Jane pushed him away.
“My, what a hellcat you are. I think I’m going to enjoy this. Who would have thought the very proper Lady Jocelyn would try to fight for her honor when all you’ve done for the past year is drool over me. Come now. Let’s make the most of our little tryst.”
She bit hard on her bottom lip. If he put his hands on her again, she’d throw up. “This is outrageous! Stop the coach immediately.”
He sat back and stared into her face. “What did you say? That speech didn’t sound at all like you. The accent is different.”
“I am not Jocelyn. You are making a mistake.”
She couldn’t make out the expression on his face and winced when his hands tightened on her arms. He leaned closer.
“What nonsense is this? You smell like Jocelyn. You have that distinctive mole near your mouth. I saw you preening for that fool Seaton. And you were waiting for me in the garden, just as I’d asked.”
“I’m her sister—her twin. From America.”
He laughed and slapped his hand on his knee. “You jest, and it is quite good, actually. Did you practice that accent? Everyone knows Jocelyn is an only child. Her father abandoned the family and fled, probably getting away from that harridan of a wife. ’Twas his good fortune when his brother died, and yours. If you hadn’t a title, I never would have given you a second look. This is making my evening, or is it morning? Who would have thought you were such a talented storyteller, and no one here to refute it.”
“How dare you. He did not abandon his family. He left Jocelyn with Mother when she refused to accompany him, and he took me. I’m Jane.”
He laughed harder, not dissuaded at all. If she kept him talking, perhaps Ralston would realize what had happened and come for her. If not, she was on her own, and she must remain calm and try to remember what Maddie and her father had taught her about protecting herself. Because this man was a bounder for sure, and Jocelyn wanted to tie herself to him?
Being a duchess is not worth it.
“Now, where were we? Ah yes, I was about to explore my prize.” He reached under her skirt, and his hands crept up her stockinged legs. She wrenched free and tried for the door, but there wasn’t one on her side. She kicked and remembered where best to inflict damage on a man. He shifted, and her foot found his thigh. He shrieked, and while he grabbed his leg, she scrambled to the opposite seat to get to the door.
“You’re going to pay for that.” He pulled her hair, and when she freed herself, he grabbed her sleeve.
She tried to open the door. He jerked her back, tearing her gown. Getting into a better position, she lunged for his eyes with her nails. He swiped at her hands, grasped them, and held them fast. With a final push, she lowered her head, reared back, and smashed him in the nose, enjoying the howl that filled the interior.
“Now you’ve gone too far.” He held her by the shoulders and banged her head against the wall of the coach.
She closed her eyes and slipped down in the seat. Her head throbbed, but the interior was lined with thin padding. No damage was done. Lying still, she feigned unconsciousness to give her time. She needed to develop a plan.
Fast.
~ ~ ~
Ralston ended his conversation with a pompous fool he’d known for years and slipped out the door to the terrace. No lamps lighted the garden, so he took one of a dozen candles placed outside the doors for the convenience of strollers out to get a breath of air.
Jane should have returned by now, and he would have gone in search of her earlier if the Duke of Shefton hadn’t waylaid him about a bill in the Lords he favored. He’d expected her to receive her proposal and be escorted back inside to give her mama the happy news. Instead the garden was silent as a tomb. A cool breeze raised the hairs on his neck when he reached the gate. No one was about. Had she come back in and he’d missed her? No, they had agreed she would seek him out if she returned bef
ore he entered the garden.
Where was she?
Too early to panic, he called out. There was no response. Going out into the mews and into the stable where Lady Siltsbury kept her carriage horse, he sought the head groom who slept in a room above.
He pounded on the door. “Jenkins. It’s Lord Ralston. I need a word.” He knocked harder on the closed door.
A man in nightshirt and cap peeped through a crack. “Wot can I do fer you, sir?”
“Lady Jocelyn went into the garden earlier and has not been seen since. Did you by any chance see her tonight in the mews, although I cannot believe she would have ventured that far in the dark.”
“Find the lad who sometimes rides with the coachman. A number of carriages waited in our mews before going forward to pick up their owners at the front door. His job was to assist them.”
“Thank you.” Ralston ran out to the street. The last of the guests were getting into their conveyances, and the butler and the young groom were on hand to assist them. When Ralston neared the butler, the man bowed.
“Are you waiting for your carriage, sir?”
“No. I wish to speak to the groom.” He strode over to the boy. “I’m looking for Lady Jocelyn. Have you seen her? I believe she was strolling near the back garden gate.”
“I did. She sat on that stone bench. A gent sat beside her.”
That made sense. He must have been proposing. “Did you see them leave? Return to the house perhaps?”
“No, milord. They got into a carriage parked behind the gate. I remember it because the coach had a ducal crest. Quite a bang up rig it was.”
“When was this?”
“A half hour ago.” He bobbed from one foot to the other and peered at his feet.
“Is there something else you wish to tell me? You seem nervous.”
“The lady was, er, carried into the coach.”
Ralston’s heart dropped. Was she running off with him? No, Jocelyn might do that, but Jane wouldn’t. His heart rate increased, and a pain clutched his gut. He had a bad feeling about this, but he needed to make sure he wasn’t overreacting.
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