"Thirsty?" Everleigh asked with an arched eyebrow, as James threw back the rest of his tumbler of brandy.
"I have things to do," he replied mysteriously, departing with a curt nod and heading in Jane's direction.
"Oh, there you are." Jane blinked at James in shock as he elbowed his way through the crowds to her side.
"Jane," he took her hand and bestowed a kiss on it, before turning to the Duchess to acknowledge her, "Your Grace, how nice to see you in town."
"I wish you could say that it's nice to see my husband too, but I seem to have lost him to a decanter of brandy," Olive replied with a grimace, she turned to Jane and wagged her finger, "I know that everyone will tell you there's no man better to marry than a Duke, but appreciate the time you have with Lord Payne before he inherits and turns into an irritable old crank. It seems that to hold a Ducal seat one must hold the ability to be both obstinate and ornery all at the same time."
Although her words were irritated there was affection in them and the Duchess soon departed in search of her husband, though not after promising Jane that she would call on her the next day.
"It seems I will be making a lucky escape, my Lord," Jane offered with a smile, "For Dukes sound like a rather obstreperous breed of men."
"Oh, I don't know," James shrugged, feeling a little befuddled to find himself alone with Jane now that he knew himself to be in love with her. "My mother seems to manage my father alright."
"I think the Napoleonic wars would have ended in a week if your mother had been in charge," Jane retorted lightly, with a smile that rendered James dumbstruck with desire. How had he not noticed before the way that her eyes twiinkled so charmingly when she bestowed a smile upon him?
"A dance," he stuttered after an awkward pause in which Jane gaze distractedly over his shoulder, "You have promised me as many dances as my heart desires."
"I did not, my Lord," Jane grinned modestly, a note of humour in her voice. "I promised you as many dances as was necessary to uphold my end of the bargain."
"And you haven't even given me one," James mockingly chided, holding his hand against his chest as though his heart was broken. "A man of lesser confidence might think that you were avoiding it altogether."
"Luckily you're a man whose confidence could only be described as overflowing," she retorted quickly, her words softened by her gentle smile. James felt his chest swell slightly; it was nice to think that he was giving the impression of being confident and assured, when in actual fact he now felt like a stuttering schoolboy in her presence.
The small orchestra in the far corner of the room had finished the final strains of a boisterous country-set and were now preparing to begin to play a waltz. Lord Payne instinctively held out his hand and was rewarded when Jane held out her own, interlinked her fingers with his and allowed him to lead her out onto the dance floor. The room hushed slightly at the sight of them together, for this was their first public appearance since the news of their engagement had been reported. James felt the inquisitive eyes of the ton watching them carefully, but he did not care, for he had eyes only for Jane. As the first strains of the music started, he placed a hand on her waist and pulled her toward him; a small bit closer than propriety allowed, but it was worth it for the heady rush of desire that almost left him dizzy.
"I must confess, my Lord," Jane whispered nervously, glancing at him, then over her shoulder at the people watching them, "That I have never danced the waltz in public."
"Really?" he asked in surprise; he had danced dozens, if not hundreds, over his lifetime.
"Well it is a rather romantic dance," Jane reasoned, nervously following his steps, "And I have never really been anyone's romantic interest at a ball."
"Well, tonight you are mine," James replied in a croaky whisper, pulling her closer again.
"Yes, well, if only for show," Jane smiled up at him. Before he had a chance to reply she spoke again, her cheeks flushed with pleasure. "I know that we have not properly discussed the way that we shall end our engagement, but I think I have a plan that even your mother could not thwart..."
As they continued dancing Jane explained in a whisper about the return of her former paramour Alastair Jackson. James listened with a sinking heart as she described their decades old friendship, which was strengthened by their shared love of the academics and now Jackson's return from the South Americas.
"Don't you see?" Jane asked, her eyes dancing with a happiness that sent spears of jealousy through James. "I can cry off at the appropriate moment without anyone suspecting that it was all just a charade. It would have looked odd — and your father would have been suspicious— if Alastair had not returned and given us the greatest excuse. It's wonderful!"
"Yes, marvellous," James replied gruffly, feeling as though fate were playing some sort of hideous trick on him. Perhaps it was retribution for all his past misdeeds and rakish behaviour, that he finally thought himself in love, only to find that the woman who had stolen his heart had already given hers to another. The dance ended and one by one the couples began to drift off the floor. James stayed for a moment, with his hand still resting lightly on Jane's waist.
"The dance has ended, my Lord," she said with a bemused smile.
"It has," he agreed, giving himself a mental shake to wake him from the fog of confusion that had clouded his mind, "But it was only the first Jane, there will be more."
Hundreds more, he vowed silently, for he would not allow this Alastair Jackson steal Jane away from him.
CHAPTER NINE
"Oh, Jane, this is just the type of room I always picture you in when I think of you!" Olive, Duchess of Everleigh said as she followed Jane into her private parlour the next day. The Duchess prowled the room, curiously trailing a finger over the spines of the books which were crammed to bursting on the shelves which lined three of the room's walls. She gave a happy sigh as she took in the vast collection of leather bound volumes, and the odd ornaments and curiosities that Jane had collected over her lifetime.
"It's warmer here, than in the drawing room," Jane said as Hattie came bustling in with a tray of tea and a plate full of buns. "Though I know I should probably be hosting a Duchess in the grandest room of the house no matter how chilly it is."
"Oh, hush," Olive rolled her green eyes in annoyance, "Honestly, I'm still the same person I was before I married Ruan. I'm still the woman who served you tea and bread I'd baked myself last summer."
Hattie gave a subtle nod of approval as she heard this, causing Jane to smile. Olive was one of the most easily likable people she knew. The Duchess was practical and hardworking, having grown up with a father who often lost the family's fortune gambling. Airs and graces were not something that Olive would ever affect, even though her title gave her leave to do so.
"Belinda," Jane spoke to her companion who had been standing awkwardly since Olive's arrival, wearing a look of terror on her face. "Allow me to introduce the Duchess of Everleigh. Olive this is Belinda Bowstock, my companion."
"Your Grace," Belinda was so startled at actually having to speak to the Duchess, that she dropped Henry, who she had been holding in her arms, and gave Olive a sweeping curtsy more suited to an audience with the King.
"I beg you," Olive reached down to pick up Henry, who looked rather disgruntled at his unexpected tumble to the floor, "Call me Olive. I did not know that you had hired a companion Jane?"
This last statement was delivered with a note of confusion, which caused Jane to sigh.
"I did not," she said huffily, as she poured tea into three china cups. "Emily insisted that a lady of my advanced years would need company and so she hired Belinda. And it's not that I am not glad of your company Belinda," she added, so as not to offend the girl. "It was just quite insulting that my new sister thought me old enough to require you."
"The new Viscountess sounds most charming," Olive said, with a hoot of laughter, accepting the cup of tea that Jane proffered with both hands. "She is quite young though, is she n
ot? I recall thinking that women of my age were positively at death's door when I was eighteen. Though now I'm nearly thirty I think I was a little hasty in my assumptions."
"She is but eighteen," Jane agreed, thinking that Olive was right and that she should allow Emily some concessions for her age. "And I almost feel pity for her, for she seems in such a rush to assume the airs of an older woman. She has not had a chance to appreciate her youth —she didn't even have a full season before she married."
"Unlike some of us," Olive said with a wink to Jane, "Who took a bit longer to find a man who met our expectations. Now, enough about Emily —I want to hear all about your Lord Payne. Do you know, when I first heard I thought it wouldn't work as he is much too silly for you. Though, after seeing you together last night and the way that he looks at you so adoringly, I'm happy to say that I was completely and utterly wrong. He's smitten by you."
"Is he?" Jane asked, shocked by Olive's statement. She had not realised that she and Lord Payne were such convincing actors, though she rather thought that Olive was simply imagining things, carried away by the false love story they had peddled society. There was no way that James Fairweather, he of beautiful widows and seductive actresses, was looking at Jane with anything other than barely disguised boredom.
"Oh, yes," Olive nodded, scratching Henry's ears. The King Charles gave a growl of pleasure, perfectly pleased with being pampered by a Duchess. "Why, even Ruan commented on how Payne could not take his eyes off you —and for Ruan to comment on anything that isn't a horse or a ship is rather something."
Colour crept over Jane's cheeks as she heard this and a feeling of pleasure began to grow inside her like a tiny shoot warmed by the sun. Quickly she squashed it, for it would do no good to start thinking that Lord Payne was interested in her; he wasn't called the Lord of Heartbreak for nothing. And besides, she told herself sternly, Lord Payne was not the type of man she was attracted to. He was too charming, too handsome, too much of a rake, for her tastes. True, he was kind, exceptionally kind, but far too boisterous for a woman like her.
"I think that you and Everleigh have been reading too many Gothic Romance novels, Olive," Jane replied modestly, "For Lord Payne's decision to wed is rooted in practicality. His father had threatened to cut off his allowance if he did not change his ways —and what better way to prove he was reformed than to align himself with a sensible woman like me."
"What do you mean?" Olive's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Is he using you in some way Jane? I don't know why you'd agree to marry him if it's just so he can hold on to his allowance and continue to drink and gamble his way across town once you are wed.'
"No, no," Jane protested crossly, "It's not like that at all - we have no intention of actually getting married, the whole thing is just a ruse to buy Lord Payne some time."
"A false engagement?" To Olive's credit she did not look like she disapproved, instead her face wore a thoughtful look. "I don't quite understand what you gain from the arrangement Jane?"
"The boarding house in St Jarvis," Jane supplied reluctantly.
"Of course," Olive laughed, "I should have known that nothing except that ruddy house would tempt you to act so rashly."
"It wasn't just the house," Jane protested, feeling a little annoyed at Olive for not understanding the multiple layers which had compelled her into agreeing to Lord Payne's scheme. "When he first told me about his plan I told him that he was mad —which is still my personal opinion on the whole charade. However, Emily and Julian decided at the same time as Payne made his proposal that I would wed her horrid cousin and live my days out in St Jarvis as a Vicar's wife."
"Oh, dear," Olive sighed, "I had not realised. You should have known that you could have come to me and Everleigh —you are always welcome in our home Jane."
"I know, and I thank you Olive, but I am nearly nine and twenty and I don't wish to be beholden to anyone for my living —I want a home of my own."
A silence filled the room as Olive digested these words; Jane knew that out of anyone the Duchess could empathise with her need for independence. Olive had initially fled her marriage to the Duke, thinking him a murderer, to set up a home in St Jarvis. True, they had been reunited and had fallen madly in love with each other, but the gleam in Olive's eyes let Jane know that she understood what it felt like to feel utterly helpless and alone in life.
"Well," Olive clapped her hands brusquely, "I can't blame you for wanting your own independence and at least Lord Payne isn't the actual cad that the papers portray him to be. The only thing I'm concerned about is his mother."
"You and me both," Jane said, taking off her spectacles and massaging her temples to soothe the headache that was threatening. "She has already begun planning the ceremony, the wedding breakfast, my dress..."
"It will be hard to extricate yourself from all that," Olive advised sagely.
"Yes, but, and this is the most exciting part," Jane perked up, realising that she had not yet told Olive the good news. "Mr Jackson has returned from his expedition to South America and is very eager to take back up our acquaintance."
The silence which followed was deafening. Olive's mouth was tight with disapproval and she seemed to actually be biting her tongue —an act that Jane had always thought was just a figure of speech. She saw a flash of curiosity cross Belinda's face and the young woman glanced subtly between Jane and the Duchess, trying to assess what had caused so much tension.
"So, like the insects he has spent so long studying, your Mr Jackson has crawled out from under a rock and is trying to worm his way back into your affections?"
Jane was rather taken aback by the ice in Olive's voice. She placed her glasses back on and blinked curiously over at her friend, who was tapping her foot impatiently on the floor.
"Whatever do you mean?" Jane asked with confusion.
"What I mean," Olive replied, "Is that I overheard your last conversation with the cretinous Mr Jackson and if you had any ounce of pride you would tell that stuffed-shirt, pompous prig to get straight back on the next boat to South America and leave you alone."
Jane flushed, with both annoyance and humiliation; the last time that she and Alastair had spoken cruel words had been exchanged by both parties. For Olive to judge him on one, short conversation—that she had been eavesdropping on—was absurd.
"I think you're taking a rather harsh view of Alastair," Jane said defensively, ignoring Belinda who was now outright ogling the exchange with wide eyes. "He has apologised. Just look at the beautiful bouquet that he sent."
She gestured to the window where the bouquet still stood, the flowers as fresh as the day that they had been delivered. Jane knew very little about flowers, having received just that one bunch, but she was sure that Alastair must have spent a fortune on them —and he was not a wealthy man.
"He would have to plant you a rose garden bigger than Hyde Park before I'd consider forgiving him," Olive snapped, her face falling as she realised how harsh her tone had sounded. "Oh, Jane, I'm sorry. I'm just so annoyed with him —you're far too good for a man like Alastair Jackson."
Jane remained silent, though she was slightly mollified by Olive's apology. It was all well and good for a woman like Olive to have such pride, she thought glumly. Olive was beautiful and vivacious, with auburn hair that quite literally turned heads when she walked into a room. While, as Julian so often said, the phrase plain Jane seemed to have been invented just for her. Alastair had been the first man to see past her dowdy appearance and fully appreciate her for her mind.
"Let us not argue," Jane finally said, reaching out for the pot to pour another cup of tea, "I want to hear all about everything that has happened in Cornwall since I left and how Polly is getting on at the boarding house."
The rest of the morning was then spent discussing local gossip and Polly Jenkins, Olive's friend who now ran the boarding house in St Jarvis. They talked for nearly an hour, until the Duchess finally declared that she must take her leave.
"Please prom
ise me, Jane," Olive said as Jane walked her to the door, "That you won't act in haste and will think hard before you decide to meet with Mr Jackson."
"I will, I promise," Jane lied, stepping heavily on Belinda's toe before she gave the game away. For that afternoon they were set for a lecture on lesser known larvae in Bloomsbury, and Jane was fit to burst with the excitement of it all.
CHAPTER TEN
There was nothing better for clearing the head than a hard ride on a chilly morning, James thought as he leaned low against his stallion's neck. Hyde Park was near empty at this time of the day, the deserted fields partially obscured by a light fog. James urged his horse into one last spurt, relishing the way his muscles ached from the exertion as well as the thrill of the speed. He slowed down to a gentle canter as they neared the proper riding paths, to allow Inglot to cool down, for both horse and rider were covered in a sheen of sweat from the vigorous exercise. James held the reins loosely in his hands, his mind elsewhere as he made his way along the quiet bridle path. His mind was so far away, in fact, that he did not notice the rider approaching him until he called out a greeting.
"Good morning, my Lord. You're up early."
It was Harry Dalton, the explorer. His handsome face wore a friendly smile that James could not help but return. Now that he knew that there was no romantic connection between Dalton and Jane, he was more inclined to be friendly to the fellow.
"I like to get a good ride in before the crowds start to gather," James explained, drawing Inglot to a halt, so that he could speak more with Dalton.
"Yes, nothing ruins a good gallop like some ninny deciding to dash across your path," Dalton agreed with a good natured smile. "I must say, I enjoyed myself immensely at your engagement dinner. Your father was so kind to invite me, after his generous sponsorship of my last exploration. I must congratulate you on your choice of bride also, my Lord. Miss Deveraux is quite something —so well read and intelligent."
The Lord of Heartbreak Page 7
