by Anne Herries
‘Yes, I have made up my mind to it,’ Paul said. ‘I shall keep some of my horses here at my estate in the country, but the young ones can go to Ireland with you.’
‘We have but one more day at the races,’ Adam reminded him. ‘Do you wish to take ship for Ireland immediately?’
‘No, for I am engaged to the Duchess of Roshithe for her ball in two days hence,’ Paul said. ‘I shall return this evening, after the meeting—and we will talk of a trip to Ireland, perhaps next week.’
‘Yes, of course, you would not wish to miss the duchess’s ball,’ Adam murmured softly. ‘Shall we to the races then and see if we can find another winner?’
‘Win or lose, I bet modestly,’ Paul said. ‘You would do well to do the same, Adam.’
‘Of course,’ Adam said but the gleam in his eyes sent a shiver of apprehension down Paul’s spine. If Adam bet recklessly, he could easily lose all he had won and more besides...
* * *
‘You look lovely,’ Jane said to her friends as they came down to the parlour where she and Will were waiting for them. ‘Melia, that gown suits you so well—and Sarah, I think I have not seen you look as beautiful before.’
‘Oh, I am not beautiful,’ Sarah denied with a blush and a shake of her head. ‘You look wonderful yourself—is that a new gown, cousin?’
‘No, one I have worn once before,’ Jane said. She did not add that she had forgone her new gown in order to see both Melia and Sarah supplied with the beautiful creations they were wearing. Madame Françoise had been inundated with requests for new gowns for one of the most important balls of the season, but Jane had waited patiently. She did not expect Lord Frant to attend, therefore it hardly mattered that she was wearing a gown she’d worn before, though Mama had scolded her for it.
‘Jane, you are too unselfish,’ she said. ‘You should have put yourself before Melia. She has already had two new ball gowns.’
‘But she is young and this is her first season. It is more important that both she and Sarah should look well.’
‘And why is that, Jane?’ Mama demanded. ‘I would have my daughter look well—and perhaps find herself another husband...’
‘Mama, please do not...’ Jane sighed. ‘I have told you before that I do not wish to marry the Marquis Vermont—or Lord Hamilton’s nephew or...’
‘No, of course not. Why should you when a much better match presents itself? He is not a marquis, but fortune and good nature are more important and Lord Frant has these qualities in abundance.’
‘Mama!’ Jane’s cheeks burned. ‘Please do not suggest such a thing...’
‘I merely point out that the man is there...and is already halfway in love with you, Jane. If you were to give him a hint, I dare say he would propose to you in an instant...’
Jane felt hot and uncomfortable. Yet her mother was only suggesting what she had suspected once or twice, but immediately dismissed. Sometimes there was a look in Paul Frant’s eyes that seemed to suggest that his feelings for her were more than mere liking.
‘Oh, no, I couldn’t...’ Jane looked away from her mother’s too bright gaze. She tried to dismiss the idea, as she had others—but this time she could not quite manage it. Was it possible that Lord Frant’s regard was something deeper than friendship? And what would she feel about it if that were true, fantastic as it seemed? No, no, it was ridiculous because they had known each other such a short time...
Jane found that the idea was not as distasteful to her as she’d thought it might be and if she were to think of marriage—but of course that was ridiculous. She had no wish to marry again, even to a gentleman as generous and good-natured as Lord Frant...and he’d given no indication that his affections had turned towards her, except now and then there was that look in his eyes. Jane did not wish to believe it. She was not ready to feel love again; it would be a betrayal of Harry. Besides, she did not think it true: it was merely Mama being a matchmaker again, of course.
‘I do hope that Viscount Hargreaves will come this evening,’ Melia said. ‘He thought that he might be in Ireland, but perhaps...’ She stopped, aware that Jane was staring at her. ‘What have I said?’
‘I wish you will not set your heart on that gentleman,’ Jane said gently. ‘I believe he has little fortune and though that would not necessarily prevent the marriage there are other considerations...’
Jane halted once more, because she knew she could not tell Melia what she feared. She must simply let the girl make up her own mind and hope that she came to her senses in time.
‘If he’d been given what he was owed...’ Melia blurted out but then stopped, her face turning red. ‘No matter...’ She turned away in some confusion. ‘Yes, I dare say you are right, Jane.’
Jane would have pressed her to finish what she’d been saying, but they were on the point of leaving for the duchess’s ball and she did not want to spoil the evening for anyone. An argument with Melia would cast a shadow over what should have been a happy evening.
Smiling brightly, she walked to the door, which was opened promptly by her footman. Outside, the carriage was drawn up and another footman stood ready to assist the ladies into the carriage. The viscount came last, sauntering down the stairs as if there was all the time in the world.
‘Will, dearest, do hurry,’ Jane told him with a warm smile. ‘Mama shall not be pleased if we are late.’
‘Oh, I tremble in my boots at the thought of it,’ Will said and laughed. Their mother was dearly loved by both but had never made the least attempt to keep either of them in check.
‘No, do not be wicked, dearest,’ Jane said and poked him in the ribs. ‘Move up and do not squash my gown.’
‘That would never do,’ Will murmured mischievously. ‘I should not wish to be in your black books, Jane.’
‘How can anyone do anything with him?’ Jane appealed to Sarah, who laughed but looked as if she had enjoyed the banter.
‘I think the viscount but means to tease you,’ Sarah said, her eyes resting warmly on the young man, who had moved over to the corner to give his sister room to spread her gown.
So they travelled to the duchess’s grand home in the west of town, three of them chattering and laughing and only Melia silent in her corner. She was subdued and thoughtful and Jane was relieved that she had not scolded her, for the girl’s spirits were already lower than they had been when she first came to town. It was a pity if she’d given her heart to a man who did not deserve her, Jane reflected, but then they were arriving and one of the duke’s flunkeys was opening their carriage door so that the ladies could descend from it to the red carpet spread out to keep their dainty shoes clean, for even outside such a house as this the streets might be stained with dirt.
Then they were inside the magnificent and lofty entrance hall with its floor of shining marble and the magnificent wide staircase leading up to the first floor, where the duchess was standing to receive her visitors.
Jane led the way up the stairs and was graciously welcomed by her mother. Curtsying, Jane waited until the others had greeted the duchess and then remained with her for a few moments while her brother led the two young ladies along the landing to the first reception room.
‘I am delighted to see you looking so well, my dear,’ the duchess said warmly as Jane kissed her cheek.
‘Thank you, dearest Mama.’ Jane smiled at her. Seeing some of her mother’s friends arriving, she inclined her head. ‘I shall leave you to greet your guests and we shall talk later...’
The reception rooms were overflowing with happy, smiling people. Porky was circulating, as was the duty of the host, but when he saw Jane he nodded to his companion and left him, coming to meet her with hands outstretched.
‘My very dear Jane,’ he boomed at her and kissed both her hands in turn. ‘How delightful you always look—charming and pretty, just like y
our mama.’
‘I thank you, sir...’ she said and dipped a slight curtsy.
‘Now, none of that nonsense,’ he chided and patted her cheek. ‘I am your dear Porky and father, I hope?’
‘You are a dearer one to me than I ever had,’ Jane said and kissed his cheek, which made him blush with pleasure. ‘I hope you know that, Porky?’
‘You make me proud indeed,’ he said. ‘The duchess looks beautiful this evening, did you not think so?’
‘Mama is always beautiful,’ Jane said, ‘but I think that rather lovely diamond tiara is new?’
‘Ah, yes, a little bauble it pleased me to buy for her,’ he said. ‘Off with you to the ballroom, Jane. Do not waste your time talking to an old fellow like me—there are many fine young ones waiting to greet you, my dear.’
‘But I enjoy talking to you,’ Jane said, and accepted a glass of champagne from one of the footmen circulating, and then saw that Melia, Sarah and Will had been waylaid by friends and had not yet reached the ballroom either. Taking a few sips of her wine, her eyes searched the room but the tall figure of Lord Frant was nowhere to be seen and she was aware of disappointment briefly, before finding herself surrounded by several gentlemen clamouring for dances. She handed over her card, smiling particularly at two officers who had been Harry’s friends.
‘Major Harding, Lieutenant Brandt...’ she said. ‘How pleasant to see you again. Are you both on leave?’
‘Yes, there is very little true soldiering to do at the moment,’ Major Harding replied with a smile. ‘We have been with Wellington in Vienna but now we are officially on leave. I intend to sell my commission shortly—and George here is wavering on the brink.’
‘Trouble is, my father won’t let me help with the estate,’ the young man with melting brown eyes said and grinned at her. ‘What is a fellow to do but spend his time in town, drinking and gambling—and that don’t please his lordship either.’
‘Find some employment, George,’ Major Harding chivvied him. ‘It is my intention to import wine—and to set up a breeding stable for thoroughbreds...’
‘Oh, you should talk to Lord Frant,’ Jane said impulsively. ‘I believe he means to race horses...’
‘Are you speaking of Captain Frant?’ The major’s eyes gleamed. ‘We were great friends in the old days, but then he sold out and went to India.’
‘I was not aware that Lord Frant had served as captain,’ Jane said, liking the honest, open manner of the officer. ‘Not when...when Harry and I were with you, I think?’
‘No, a few years previously. He was my first commanding officer on the Peninsula...’
‘Ah...’ Jane nodded. ‘He had intended to attend this evening, but I am not sure—he may have left for...’ The words faded as her eyes were drawn across the room and she saw the very man entering. Yet something was wrong and she heard murmuring around her, not realising at once what it meant—and then she saw that he was wearing a sling on one arm and there was a dressing applied to his forehead. ‘No...excuse me, please...’
Jane made her way through the room, unaware that people turned their heads to watch her or of the whispers and smiles, quickly hidden behind a hand or a kerchief. She reached the newcomer and stood staring up at him, searching his face and seeing that it bore small scratches as well as a binding on the forehead.
‘Lord Frant, you have been hurt...’ she croaked, her lips barely able to move for the shock of seeing him thus.
A rueful smile lit his eyes and he reached out with his right hand to touch hers. ‘A mere accident, Lady March. I was advised to rest for a few days, but I could not forgo the pleasure of seeing...of the duchess’s ball...’
Jane felt warmth flood through her as his smile seemed to caress and she knew what he had meant to say. It was the pleasure of seeing her this evening that had made him come, despite his injuries. Oh, no! How vain she was to think it.
‘What happened, sir?’
‘Oh, the merest incident,’ he declared, dismissing his sling as if it were nothing. ‘A toss from my horse, no more...’
Jane was certain there was more behind the accident as he described the fall, but it was clear he would say nothing, at least this evening.
‘I am happy to see you,’ Jane said. She suddenly realised that everything had become brighter, although until that moment she had not been aware of missing him. Now she realised that had he not come the evening would have seemed less for it. ‘Though I do not think you will be able to dance this evening, sir.’
‘No, perhaps not,’ he said ruefully. ‘I had looked forward to our dances, my lady, but they must wait for another time. Perhaps you will sit with me and take a glass of wine—or walk out on the balcony...’
‘Yes, of course,’ she said. ‘I had reserved two dances for you...’
‘I am glad you remembered that I asked for them,’ he murmured throatily and Jane’s heart jerked and then raced in a manner it had not done for some years. For a moment as she looked into his eyes it was as if her heart reached out to his and her breath came faster, making her aware of something she had not felt for a long time—a desire to be kissed by a man other than her late husband. Yet in an instant the desire was replaced by regret. She could never...must never let herself love again: that way lay too much pain and hurt. It was safer to remain where she was, in her own little bubble.
‘Yet should you truly be here?’ she asked as she realised she had been silent too long.
‘If one always did what one ought it would be a dull life,’ Paul said and laughed as her brows rose. ‘I have often taken risks, as this gentleman may tell you...’
Jane saw that Major Harding had come up to them and was giving Paul a quizzical look. ‘What mad escapade brought you to this, Captain Frant?’
‘That is fine talk, coming from the wildest fellow I ever had under my command.’ Paul laughed and offered his right hand, which was gripped and held. ‘Jack Harding—how are you? A Major now, I hear?’
‘Yes, but unlikely to go further now that Boney is safely tucked up out of harm,’ Major Harding said, grinning. ‘I am thinking of setting up a stable—and Lady March told me you have a similar idea. We must dine together one evening and talk of this...’
‘Yes, indeed. I should enjoy that,’ Paul told him. ‘Perhaps tomorrow at my club—at eight?’
It was agreed and then Major Harding left them to claim a partner for the next dance.
‘This was one of your dances,’ Jane told Paul. ‘Would you care for a turn on the balcony, sir?’
‘Only if you stop calling me sir,’ he said. ‘Frant if you must, though I prefer Paul. I believed we were friends, Jane?’
‘You know we are,’ she said as he offered his arm and they made their way through the crowds to one of the long doors that stood open to admit fresh air and passage to the various small balconies. Her heart had opened to him earlier but now she had herself under control and was the polite society lady again. ‘Now, tell me the truth—what happened to you?’
‘My horse was spooked by a stray ball as I rode home from Newmarket yesterday.’
‘You were shot at?’ Jane felt severely distressed by the very idea and it must have shown in her face for Paul squeezed her arm against his side comfortingly.
‘No, I fancy it was a poacher or some such thing—unless he was a poor shot. Unfortunately, my horse was not trained to the sound and reared up, sending me crashing to the ground—though I held on to the reins, luckily, and Adam was there to help me up...’
‘Viscount Hargreaves was with you?’
‘Yes, thankfully. He helped me to mount and got me to the nearest inn, where I was seen by the local doctor. A good man, who informed me that I had no broken bones and would live but must take it easy for a day or so.’
‘Thank God someone was with you...’ Jane was shocked to
discover how much the idea that he could have lain hurt...particularly if the shot had wounded him.
‘It was fortunate, but it is not the first time Adam has come to my aid,’ Paul told her. ‘I suffered from a fever on the ship returning from India and I believe I should have died had Adam not cared for my needs.’
‘I did not realise that he had been such a good friend to you.’
‘No, he does not speak of it, but he is a decent fellow,’ Paul said and smiled as they took a turn on the small balcony and looked out at the pretty gardens, which were enhanced by fairy lights strung in the trees and bushes. ‘It was a successful meeting for both of us and we leave for Ireland next week to buy land for our young horses—of which we now have six.’
‘So it is definite that you will set up your stables in Ireland together?’
‘Yes, I see no reason for it not to go ahead now,’ Paul said softly, speaking almost to himself. ‘I believe Adam intends to purchase a house there, where he will live for some part of the year, though he enjoys Society too much to bury himself there for ever.’
‘Did he not come with you this evening? Melia thought it was his intention...’
‘I believe he has another engagement, one more to his taste...’ Paul frowned but shook his head, apparently wishing to leave the subject of his friend there. ‘I was determined to keep my word and come—though I fear I present a sorry appearance. We must hope the sight of me does not distress the ladies...’
‘There is nothing unpleasant in your appearance,’ Jane assured him. ‘I am glad to see you, Paul, though I am sorry if you are in pain.’
‘Sweet Jane,’ he said and gazed into her eyes for a moment before moving his hand to her cheek and caressing it lightly with the tips of his fingers. For a moment her breath caught and she almost swayed towards him as the need to feel his arm about her swept over her, but in an instant she had conquered the foolish desire. She must not let her longing for Harry confuse her; she did not know this man well enough to care for him—surely she could not be so inconstant. Only a few weeks ago she’d believed that she would never feel love or desire again. And now? Now she was not sure how she felt. ‘You look beautiful, as always.’
