by Anne Herries
‘Yes, I can believe it,’ Jane said. ‘He can be charming, I dare say, but he does not appeal to me.’
‘I am glad to know it—and remember what I have said, Jane. If ever you need me, you have only to ask...’
Jane smiled and thanked him. She did not get another chance to speak with him in private that evening, but she was aware of Captain Hershaw’s eyes following her wherever she was in the room and he kept her talking once or twice during the evening, asking her if she would permit him to take her riding one morning that week.
Jane excused herself on the grounds that she was busy and saw a gleam of annoyance in his eyes, but he accepted her excuses and told her he would ask again.
She was not sorry when the evening was over, and afterwards spoke to her brother alone.
‘I should prefer it if you did not ask that man here again, Will. Meet him at your club if you must but...I cannot like him. The way he looks at me...’
‘Yes, I noticed it,’ Will told her. ‘Be at peace, dearest. I managed to lose six hundred guineas to him at cards this evening and so the debt is paid. I doubt I shall have much to do with the man in future.’
‘I am so glad,’ Jane said and kissed his cheek. ‘Did you not think Sarah splendid this evening? She kept Lady Clarke and Mrs Holbein amused for ages after dinner.’
‘Sarah makes a good hostess and friend,’ Will said and looked more like his old self as he grinned. ‘Cease your matchmaking, sister. It is not necessary. I am perfectly able to make my own plans for the future.’
‘Will...’ she breathed and looked at him expectantly, but he laughed and shook his head.
‘Go to bed, Jane, and stop worrying. I have made up my mind to nothing—and you shall know my thoughts as soon as I know them myself...’
Jane was smiling as she went up the stairs. Lord Frant was home, Will did not need his sister to watch over him and there was nothing to worry her...
Chapter Eleven
Jane waited at home the following morning and her patience was rewarded when Lord Frant came to call on her just before luncheon. She was in her parlour at the back of the house and welcomed him with both hands outstretched. He took them and kissed her on both cheeks.
‘I am so glad you are home. Is your injury recovered?’
‘Perfectly,’ Paul said and held her hands a moment longer. For one fleeting glorious moment he seemed to drink her in, as if his eyes could not have their fill of her. Jane longed for him to give her a sign that he felt as she did but there was nothing except that look of longing in his eyes. ‘I have been impatient to see you, Lady March. I wanted to thank you for making my house into a home.’
‘So you are happy with everything?’
‘It is all quite perfect—but it leaves me with no excuse left to visit you.’
If he cared for her he would not need an excuse!
‘You may always call on me as a friend—surely you know it?’
‘I have hoped it,’ Paul said. ‘Indeed, I have hoped for more—but certain things prevent me from speaking of what lies in my heart.’
‘What things?’ Jane asked, puzzled, as she looked into his face and saw that his eyes were veiled, holding secrets. Why could he not speak openly if he cared for her? He spoke of his hopes and yet she sensed a withdrawal in him that had not been there at the start. ‘Yet I should not ask—I have no right...’
‘I would give you every right,’ he said huskily. ‘May I ask you to be patient with me for a time, Jane? I have business that will keep me from you—and there are some situations best dealt with before I can come to you with an honest heart.’
‘Of course,’ she said shyly, and her heart beat faster as she saw the look in his eyes. Surely his eyes did not lie when they spoke to her of love and need and wanting? She felt herself melting in the heat of that gaze and longed for him to take her in his arms and kiss her until there was no need for words—but it did not happen. ‘Yet if I understand your words it would seem that I do have the right to ask what keeps you from speaking plainly.’
‘Will you trust me, Jane? Will you believe me when I say it is as much for your sake that I do not speak now as anything else? I do not wish to involve you in...’ He shook his head, an expression of frustration in his eyes. ‘No, you must trust me because I cannot have you exposed to this...’
‘I shall trust you if you ask it,’ she said. ‘Yet I do not understand why you may not be open with me.’
‘For the moment I am not free to speak of what is in my heart concerning you, Jane.’
‘Then I must wait until you are free...’
‘I came to tell you that I leave for Cambridgeshire tomorrow,’ Paul said. ‘Major Harding is to accompany me. I asked him if he would bear me company for a few days while I set much needed work in train—and then I shall return to town. I hope to make up a party to dine one evening and a trip to Vauxhall gardens another...’
‘Then I shall look forward to your return,’ Jane said and restrained the urge to tell him that she did not want him to leave again so soon. How provoking his air of mystery was. She was not a tattle tongue and he might have told her whatever worried him in confidence. ‘I had hoped you might come to the theatre with us this week, but your business is urgent, I dare say.’
‘I fear it presses,’ he said and looked regretful, because she had not been able to hide her feelings: he asked her to trust him and yet he did not trust her enough to speak of what was bothering him. How could he care for her if he could not tell her what was in his heart and mind? ‘You do not know how much I wish that I might stay in town—but we have purchased horses to be trained and must make sure they have a roof over their heads.’
‘Viscount Hargreaves remains in Ireland?’
‘Yes, it is better for him. In town he becomes reckless. In Ireland he will attend to business, as he must. Perhaps one day he will be rich enough to repair his family estates and then he may marry.’
‘Yes, as you say, it is for the best,’ Jane agreed. ‘It will give Melia time to heal her broken heart, I think.’
‘My ward has been in real distress?’ Paul looked concerned.
‘No, not truly,’ Jane said. ‘I believe she loved the viscount in her way but she finds amusement to heal her hurts.’
‘Ah, I thought as much,’ Paul said. ‘If I believed it was a true match between them I should consider whether I could do more than I have so far.’
‘I am sure you have been generous enough.’
‘Perhaps—but I would not have either of them languish of a broken heart.’
‘Well, Melia does not languish. She is out with her friends now.’
‘Then I shall wait and see what happens,’ he said and smiled. ‘I had hoped there would be time for you to see my house—but when I am ready to entertain will be time enough, I dare say.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Jane agreed, though she’d hoped to see it privately long before he entertained others.
‘Well, I must leave you,’ he murmured reluctantly. ‘Please forgive the briefness of this visit. I have business to attend before I leave and my lawyer awaits me now.’
‘Of course...’ Jane said and offered her hand. He took it, held it and smiled and then he went from the room, leaving her to stare after him in frustration and disappointment.
She had hoped for so much when he returned from Ireland and now he had left her for the country and nothing had changed between them. For a fleeting moment his eyes had spoken to her heart of love, and his words had seemed to suggest he truly cared for her, but he had not spoken plainly of love or marriage and Jane could not be certain that what she hoped was true.
Hearing voices in the hall, Jane realised that Melia had returned and dashed a hand across her face lest any foolish tears should be upon it. As she went out into the hall, she realis
ed that Melia was not alone and frowned as she saw that Captain Hershaw was with her.
‘Richard brought me home,’ Melia said with a dimple. ‘I was caught in a rain shower when he saw me standing in the doorway and offered to bring me here.’
‘I did not realise it had been raining,’ Jane said truthfully.
‘Oh, it was nothing much and stopped before we were home,’ Melia said, blushing. ‘However, it was so nice not to walk...’
‘I thought you were shopping with Miss Smythe?’
‘I was, but she wanted to go to the library and I did not so I thought I might as well take advantage of Richard’s offer.’ She darted a roguish look at the man, who smiled and bent to kiss her hand. ‘He must stay and take nuncheon with us—please say he is welcome, Jane...’
Jane hesitated, reluctant to say the words that would give the impression she was happy for the man to come informally to her brother’s house, and in that instant Captain Hershaw relieved her of the necessity.
‘I have an appointment I must keep,’ he said. ‘It was delightful to have your company, Miss Melia—perhaps you and Lady March would honour me by being my guests at the theatre one evening...your cousin also, of course,’ he added as Sarah entered the house.
‘You are kind,’ Jane said. ‘We must consult our diaries. We have so many engagements it is hard to find a space for new ones...’
His eyes darted a look of anger at her, but in a moment it was gone and he was smiling. ‘Of course, of course. I have no doubt we shall meet everywhere, Lady March. I am given entrance by most, you will find...’
In another moment he had gone, leaving Jane with the distinct impression that she had made an enemy of him. Yet a little voice at the back of her mind told her that he had always meant her harm...or perhaps to harm her brother through her. Did he hope to fleece Will? It was unlikely her brother would be drawn in again...but if not her brother’s fortune, who else did he think he might get to through Jane?
It was not until after luncheon with her family that it occurred to Jane it might possibly be because she was known to have a close friendship with Lord Frant.
Remembering the night Paul had come to the ball with a binding round his head and his arm in a sling, Jane felt a cold shiver at her nape. Paul had said there were circumstances that kept him from opening his heart to her. She’d thought it matters of business...but had the shot that sent him crashing from his horse been meant to kill him? Was he afraid to tell her of his love because she was a widow and he thought he might also be killed violently?
The thought made Jane sick with fear. She tried to tell herself that she was jumping to conclusions, to dismiss her foolish fears, and yet they had taken root and she wondered if he was in danger. Did Paul suspect that his life might be at risk—and was that why he’d asked Major Harding to accompany him to the country?
* * *
‘When did you suspect that your life was in danger?’ Major Harding asked.
They had stopped at an inn for the night and were talking over a meal and wine. Paul was silent for a moment, then, ‘When my horse almost ran into a wire stretched between two trees in Ireland. The first time, when someone shot at me, was inconclusive. Adam rode upon us in time and the rogue made off. I could not know if it had been an accident or an attempt to murder me.’
‘Hargreaves? I know of him, but have not met the gentleman—do you trust him?’
‘A few weeks ago I would have said implicitly. He saved my life on the ship coming over—and I cannot think he has reason to want me dead...’
‘You’re not as sure of his loyalty now, are you?’
‘I do not want to believe that he could be to blame,’ Paul said reluctantly. ‘Yet he was one of only a few that knew my route on both occasions...and he might resent that he received only two thousand gold coins while I received much more for saving the Prince’s life.’ Paul had no need to explain the circumstances of the rescue because Major Harding knew it all, though not from Paul’s lips.
‘So you do suspect he might be behind the attempts but do not wish to believe it.’
‘I have to accept that it is possible,’ Paul said reluctantly. ‘It would be a bitter thing to me if I should discover that beneath his friendship lies only hatred.’
‘Has he said or done anything to give you pause?’
‘No, not truly—except that he told someone else he had been unfairly treated in the matter of the reward...’
‘Yet, even so, it would be a spiteful fool who would hold such a thing against you to the extent where he would seek to take your life.’
‘Yes...’ Paul frowned. ‘That is what I thought but I cannot think of anyone else who would wish me harm.’
‘What of Hershaw?’
‘Hershaw...?’ Paul sought for the memory and frowned. ‘That was so long ago...surely it could not be. Why now?’
‘He was suspected of cheating and it was on your recommendation that he was sent away.’
‘Yes, I remember now. Colonel Forster asked me for my opinion and I told him that I did not trust the man. I forget—where was he sent?’
‘To India...you did not meet him when you worked for the Company?’
‘No, never to my knowledge: India is a huge country and our troops are everywhere. I had little to do with the interior, being stationed in the mountain regions, as was Adam Hargreaves.’
‘I saw him the other evening at Viscount Salisbury’s house and warned Lady March to be a little wary of him. She told me that she did not care for him but must treat him as her brother’s guest, but would warn him to be careful.’
‘I dare say he goes everywhere in Society,’ Paul said. ‘He was not proven a cheat but only suspected and warned in private by the colonel. His reputation was not truly sullied by the charge, though if rumours persist...’
‘I think he has not long been in London,’ Major Harding said and frowned. ‘He may have returned because an uncle left him a small estate. If he has come for business it might have occurred to him that he could settle an old score at the same time.’
Paul smiled oddly. ‘It would relieve my mind if I could think of him as my enemy rather than Adam Hargreaves.’
‘Of course there is always me,’ his old friend said and grinned. ‘I might have accompanied you for the chance of putting a ball through your head.’
‘Had it been you I should already be dead,’ Paul said and chuckled. ‘You need only one shot, Jack.’
‘Yes, there is that,’ the major said and his eyes gleamed with amusement. ‘Have you taken precautions to protect your back?’
‘Some, but now that you have warned me there are others I need to set in motion,’ Paul said with a grimace. ‘Both attempts so far have failed. I am certain there will be a third. I only wish I understood what I have done to merit them...’
Had he known the identity of his enemy, Paul would have spoken of what was in his heart to Jane. He knew that she had been confused and hurt by his ambiguous words and felt he’d made a mess of things. Perhaps he should have spoken openly and told her that he loved her deeply but feared that his enemy might succeed in his aim of murdering him. Something in him had held back, because Jane had been robbed of happiness once and if she gave her heart to him it would be broken if he were killed. He’d been on the verge of telling her that night on the balcony before they were interrupted, but it was as well he had held back. Paul knew now that his enemy was determined to harm him; he just couldn’t be sure why or who...
* * *
‘Are you enjoying yourself, Lady March?’ The voice made the back of Jane’s neck prickle and she turned to look at the man who had come up to her unnoticed. It seemed that she could go nowhere these past days without meeting him, and she had a feeling that he was following her. He’d boasted that he was welcomed everywhere and it appeared that
it was no idle remark. ‘I know you love good music and I think we shall be royally entertained this evening.’
‘Yes, I believe Madame Justine de Rigorini is much admired,’ Jane replied. ‘I would have thought you more inclined to cards, sir?’
‘What makes you think I prefer cards to music and the company of a beautiful woman?’ he asked, his voice smooth and even but a gleam of something in his eyes that made her stomach clench. ‘I am a man of many interests and tastes.’
‘Yes, of course. I meant no insult,’ she said. ‘My brother is here but I think he chooses the card room, but my cousin Sarah and Miss Bellingham will listen to the music with me.’
‘I have invited some friends to an evening party of my own,’ he continued as if she had not spoken. ‘Perhaps you and your brother and your guests would be gracious enough to accept my invitation?’
‘It is not usual for a single gentleman to host such a party?’
‘Oh, my aunt, Mrs Sargent, is to host it for me. You may be acquainted with the lady. I believe she is an acquaintance of the duchess.’
‘Yes, I do know Mrs Sargent,’ Jane said and inclined her head. ‘You must send me a card, sir, and we shall see if we have a free evening—and now you must excuse me...’
Jane walked away, not bothering to turn her head though she knew his gaze followed her. Mrs Sargent was indeed an acquaintance of her mother’s but not a lady she liked. Mama did not much like her either; she was received everywhere and to snub her would be extremely rude, but she was never invited to one of the duchess’s more intimate affairs.
‘Did I see you speaking with Captain Hershaw?’ Melia said as Jane went to sit down with the others, who were waiting for the music to begin. ‘He is such a charming man, is he not? I believe he means to invite us to his party...’
‘Yes, but I do not care to accept an invitation from that gentleman,’ Jane said. ‘I do not care for him and it might be best if you did not welcome his company too freely.’
Melia shot her a resentful look. ‘It seems that you do not care for any gentlemen I like,’ she muttered beneath her breath.
