Lady Bledsoe smiled at her as the others shuffled to move another chair into the circle and resituated themselves. Jane smiled back shakily and prayed Nicholas’s mother would not guess just how eventful her day with him had been. She doubted all this kindness would continue if she realized how far things had gone between her beloved son and a servant.
“Jane,” Lady Bledsoe said softly, once the room had settled and Jane had poured herself some tea at Lady Ridgefield’s insistence. “All day, I have been talking to these ladies about you.”
Jane swallowed as she cast a glance around the room at the others. They were all leaning forward, smiles on their faces, as if in anticipation.
“Have you?” she said weakly. “I don’t know what in the world would interest you about me.”
“I was once friendly with your mother, as you and I have spoken about,” Lady Bledsoe said. “And Lady Campbell-Carlile knew your father before his death. Your parents moved in our circles, and once you did, too. We have determined that it is a shame for you to serve Lady Ridgefield as little more than a common servant when your roots are far grander than that.”
Jane’s lips parted in surprise. That fact had never seemed to occur to any of the ladies before.
Lady Ridgefield leaned forward now, practically bouncing with glee. “Not that I do not adore your company, Jane. But I have often thought it was not right for you to be lowered to such a position. And now Lady Bledsoe has come up with the best plan in the world.”
“Plan?” Jane repeated weakly. Her world felt as though it had begun to spin ever faster and more out of control. This day…it was really quite mad. Perhaps it was all a dream.
Except when she surreptitiously pinched herself, she was most definitely awake.
Lady Bledsoe nodded. “The ladies and I all have influence in Society. We have connections, and together we are quite a force to be reckoned with. We would like to…adopt you, Jane…I suppose is the best way to put it. To sponsor you for a Season. You are a beautiful girl, my dear. I am sure you could make an excellent match, despite this last year of service.”
Jane opened her mouth and shut it as she tried to formulate some kind of response to this utterly unexpected offer.
To no longer serve, but return to Society, was appealing in a great many ways, but it was out of the question. She felt closer to finding Marcus than she ever had before. She couldn’t abandon that! Not to become the charity case of a group of bored Society women.
“I appreciate the sentiment,” she said carefully, not wishing to offend. “But I made many of the choices that put me in my current position. I would not feel right about accepting help from you. You owe me nothing.”
“Owe you nothing?” Lady Ridgefield gasped and leaned forward to grasp her hand tightly. “That is not correct at all, my dear! You have been nothing but kind to me, when I know I can be a bit…silly. No companion has ever been so thoughtful, nor indulged my eccentricities as sweetly as you have.”
Jane blinked, tears stinging her eyes. “But that has been a pleasure, not anything I ever expected this kind of reward for.”
Lady Ridgefield dabbed at her own sudden tears. “But whether you expected it or not, I wish to thank you for your wonderful treatment and friendship to me, Jane.”
Lady Bledsoe nodded slowly. “Yes. We want to thank you.”
Jane swallowed as her gaze slipped to Lady Bledsoe, and she found the woman smiling at her. Now she understood. Lady Ridgefield was the sweetest woman in the world, but in a year she had never considered doing this. It was all Lady Bledsoe’s doing. And it was an attempt to make some kind of…payment for her training of Nicholas. As if Lady Bledsoe felt that if she managed to marry Jane well to some person with a bit of money and position, it would balance out a debt.
A sting of disappointment worked through Jane, though she kept a smile on her face so none of the women would see. They meant well.
“I still don’t think I could—”
“Hush!” Lady Abebowale rapped her fan across Jane’s knuckles to silence her. As Jane lifted her stinging hand to her mouth, the other woman continued. “There will be no refusals. We will not accept it. You will be sponsored by us for a new Season and that is the end of it.”
Then she got to her feet. “Now I must go. I will leave the details to the others. Lady Campbell-Carlile, will you go with me in my carriage?”
“And I must return home, as well,” Duchess Kirkwood said.
Lady Ridgefield rose to escort them to their vehicles, leaving Lady Bledsoe and Jane alone. As soon as the door closed behind them, the other woman moved to sit beside Jane.
She smiled. “I hope this pleases you, my dear.”
Jane hesitated. It seemed she was in a tricky position. If she utterly refused, all she would do was damage her relationship to these powerful women. In a battle between their will and her pride, she had no chance of winning.
Accepting their offer was her only choice. It was highly unlikely anyone would be interested in her, even with the ladies’ assistance. If she kept her head about her, there would be no harm in going through the motions.
“Yes, of course,” Jane finally said, her voice hollow even to her own ears. “I do appreciate your wanting to help me.”
“You are doing so much for my family,” Lady Bledsoe said, and her voice caught. “I must do something for you.”
“Just as I explained to Lady Ridgefield about our association, I am happy to help your son,” Jane whispered, her thoughts turning to the sweet draw of Nicholas’s unexpected kisses and the heat of his touch. She moved her gaze to a spot on the floor so Lady Bledsoe wouldn’t see too much. “You do not need to repay that.”
“How is my son faring?” Lady Bledsoe asked with a quick glance toward the door through which Lady Ridgefield had departed. In the hallway, the other women’s voices still echoed as they said their farewells.
Jane smiled, and this time it was not forced or awkward. “He is improving with each lesson. Most of the knowledge I am imparting is nothing more than reminders of what he knew from his youth. Today we discussed dining, and though the ideas frustrated him, he did well.”
“That is good, for he may need to test those skills soon. Tomorrow I will be sending him an invitation to a ball I plan to host in a few days’ time.”
Jane gasped as she stared at Lady Bledsoe. “But he—”
Before she could finish, Lady Ridgefield reentered the room, beaming broadly. “Were you telling Jane of your ball? We will need to quickly arrange for some new clothing to be designed for you, my dear, but I have the perfect seamstress for the job.”
Jane blinked, still reeling from the idea that Nicholas would be tested so soon. “What?”
Lady Ridgefield’s smile fell. “The ball, my dear. It will be your coming out with our support.”
“My coming out?” Jane pushed to her feet. When the group had said they would sponsor a Season for her, she hadn’t thought they meant immediately.
Lady Bledsoe nodded. “Yes, but do not worry. All will be well. I know it will be true. Lady Ridgefield, will you escort me to the foyer? Good night, Jane.”
“Good night,” Jane managed to choke out.
The two ladies departed the room, and Jane sank back down into the soft settee cushions. Never had she thought Lady Bledsoe would push Nicholas into Society so quickly. Although he was making strides, he continued to remain rough around the edges. She truly didn’t know if he was ready for the kind of keen observation and judgment he would endure at his mother’s party.
If he failed, it would be Jane’s fault. Hers for allowing distraction while they worked together. And hers for telling Lady Bledsoe about their secret meetings.
If he succeeded…well, that led to other issues entirely. He was a handsome, rich man with an influential, powerful family. If he made any kind of good impression with key parties, he would be accepted.
And their association would be over.
She pushed at the harsh, hollow sting that worked
through her entire being at that thought. There was no time for that now. Tonight, when she returned to his home, she would have to confess what she had done. What she had revealed to his mother. And warn him about the invitation he was about to receive. Perhaps there was a way for him to refuse it without hurting her feelings.
“Did that not go splendidly, Jane?”
She rose to her feet and turned to face Lady Ridgefield. Her employer’s round cheeks were flushed pink with utter pleasure and her eyes were bright with excitement. Jane couldn’t help but smile. Lady Ridgefield only meant her the very best. She could have no idea how complicated things had become.
“Yes, my lady.” Jane sighed. “I do appreciate all your thought and care when it comes to me. Now, can I get you anything at all?”
Her employer stopped dead in the middle of the room and stared at Jane. Her face softened with a look so sweet and motherly, Jane almost turned away from it.
“Do you not understand? You no longer work for me.”
Jane blinked. “But I—”
“If you are to be a success, you cannot be a servant any longer. I am now your guardian in a way. Responsible for reintroducing you to Society. We shall find you a fine husband. Perhaps a rich squire or a second son of a viscount or an earl.”
Jane nodded slowly, still uncertain what else she could do.
“And Lady Bledsoe has high hopes that her son will be accepted back into Society that night, as well,” Lady Ridgefield continued. “So we will search for a wife for him, too. If he were to marry a daughter of a duke or some other high-ranking gentleman, it would solidify his return.”
Shutting her eyes, Jane ignored the pricking sensation that suddenly troubled her. Those were not tears. Just a sneeze she could suppress. Lady Ridgefield was correct. The fastest way for Nicholas to regain his position in Society was to have a good showing at his mother’s party…and to quickly woo and wed a woman of influence.
Not a woman like her, that was certain.
“You shall see, Jane, after the party in a few days, everything will change.”
She opened her eyes and forced another smile for her jubilant former employer who meant so well. “You are right about that, my lady. Everything.”
But she intended to enjoy every moment she had left with Nicholas before that inevitable moment.
Chapter 16
Jane stepped into one of the many parlors in Nicholas’s home. She nodded her farewell to Gladwell and then looked around. She was shocked at the change to the chamber since her last visit. All the fine furniture had been moved back against the walls, leaving a vast empty space in the middle of the room. She shivered when she thought of why.
Near the fireplace, Nicholas and his friend Ronan Riley, the one he called Rage, were talking, their heads close together. Jane’s shiver grew deeper, and not for any fearful reason.
Nicholas was wearing some of his older clothing. A simple pair of trousers rode low on his narrow hips and a cream-colored shirt made from a rough cotton cloth was unfastened to mid-chest. She allowed herself a moment to stare at him before he became aware of her presence. The simple clothing suited him, as much as she hated to admit it. It brought out the wild side of him that the fancier apparel served to oppress.
Would he ever find a balance between the truth of himself and the image Society desired?
She shook her head. It didn’t signify. She would be long gone from his life by the time he resolved that matter. It was not her concern.
“Good evening,” she said, her voice cracking as she tried to draw their attention.
Both men straightened up, and Nicholas smiled as he crossed the room toward her. Jane caught her breath at the sight. He was all lean muscle and casual, elegant swagger as he moved. In those moments, even with his face unshaven and his clothing inappropriate, she knew he would be accepted back into Society. He had too much magnetism to be denied. Women would swoon when he passed and men would stare at him in envy.
She wouldn’t be needed anymore. Perhaps she never truly was.
“Hello, Jane,” he drawled as he stopped before her.
He tilted his head to examine her face, and Jane blushed. Surely he could read her thoughts as clearly as ever. That was one skill he seemed to have from the beginning. He could invade her feelings without even trying.
“You look tired,” he said softly, only for her ears.
“A gentleman never says such a thing about a lady,” she chastised.
He arched a brow and simply looked at her for a long, charged moment. “I am not being a gentleman,” he finally noted. “I am being your friend.”
Jane jerked her gaze to him in surprise at that statement. Friends. Was that what they were? Sometimes it seemed like it. And sometimes it seemed like much more floated between them.
“It was a trying day,” she finally admitted.
His frown drew down, and a dark anger entered his bright eyes. Reaching out, he briefly touched her upper arm and nodded. Then he released her and turned back to Rage.
“I would like to do a brief sparring demonstration, Rage. Then I’ll work with Jane alone.”
“Of course,” Rage said with a knowing twinkle in his eye that made Jane’s blush even hotter. “And a good evening to you, Miss Jane.”
She smiled at the fighter. “Good evening, Mr. Riley.”
“Why don’t you sit over there,” Nicholas said, motioning to a comfortable chair across the room. “I’ll talk you through what we’re doing.” His voice elevated a fraction. “And you can watch while I put Rage here on his arse a few times.”
“Only if you’re lucky.” Rage chuckled as he went to work stripping off his shirt and wrapping his hands with a thin strip of cloth.
Jane found herself shamefully holding her breath as she watched Nicholas walk away. In one movement, he stripped open the final buttons on his shirt. As he tugged it away, she clenched her fingers against the armrest of her chair. There was no point in denying the absolute desire she felt for the man. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced before.
And she liked it. She liked the achy, nervous feeling low in her belly. She liked the anticipation of not if he would kiss her, but when. And that morning, when she found herself pinned beneath him, she liked it when he touched her so intimately.
Worse, she wanted more, even though she knew there was no future between them other than a few more stolen days at most.
The two men moved to the middle of the empty room, mercifully cutting off her desperate and needy thoughts. She watched as they circled each other, their hands raised up in fists close to their heads.
“I keep my hands up in order to protect myself,” Nicholas called over his shoulder without looking. “If I lower them, Rage could slip in a powerful shot and knock me out before I even get to fight.”
“And I have,” Rage taunted good-naturedly. “Many a time.”
Nicholas laughed, but didn’t stop circling or lower his hands. “There are several kinds of punches, but today I’ll focus on a jab for you.”
Without warning, he shot his right hand out straight forward and caught Rage in the stomach. Jane gasped out her shock, but even though the other man gave him a look and grunted, the punch didn’t seem to disturb Rage’s good humor.
“That punch has the most power. I’ll show you how to increase it later.” Nicholas grinned at his friend. “Ready for the real show?”
“Whenever you are,” Rage said.
Their circling suddenly increased in its urgency and Jane felt the electric tension in the air double. Nicholas no longer spoke as he moved, and Rage’s grin had been replaced by a focused stare.
Without warning, the circling ended. Nicholas moved forward and threw three punches in rapid succession, a right, a left, and another right that swung around in a looping motion. Rage rocked back from the blows, but immediately countered with a quick jab to Nicholas’s body.
Jane rushed to her feet as the two men ended up grappling, locked in a close
clinch as they struggled for supremacy. They broke apart again, moving around each other. As the shock of watching the two friends battle wore off, Jane began to understand the basics of what they were doing.
Each man was looking for the right opening, a place where he could throw at least one punch, although the combinations of blows seemed to do the most damage. But they were not just attacking, they always had to defend as well, blocking a punch even as they threw another.
As much as it shocked her, Jane had to admit there was beauty to it, and clear intelligence.
The blows continued to be exchanged until finally Rage staggered back, catching himself with one hand on the back of a settee. Both men were panting with exertion, and Rage lifted a hand in what looked like an act of submission.
Nicholas grinned and moved up to tap knuckles with his friend. “That punch to my ribs nearly put me out.” He laughed, as if they had been playing a boyish game rather than pounding on each other.
Rage shook his head. “If you’d caught me more squarely on the chin with that roundhouse, this fight would have been over far more quickly. Good sparring match.”
Nicholas thumped his friend on the back and then turned toward Jane. When he saw she was on her feet, he moved toward her. “I hope we didn’t frighten you.”
She shook her head, shocked that she wasn’t afraid. “I have never seen two men exchange blows like that. I admit I was taken aback, but I can appreciate why it interests you, and why others come to see it. Have you ever played chess?”
He nodded as he began to strip off the cloth that gave his knuckles some small amount of protection. “Yes.”
“That is what it reminded me of,” she mused, trying not to stare blatantly at his now sweaty chest. “A very violent physical chess match.”
Rage tossed his own hand wraps across the back of a chair and gave the two a quick, dramatic bow. “Good evening. Miss Jane, I do hope to see you again soon.”
She waved to him as he departed the room, closing the door behind him and leaving them alone.
Nicholas refocused his attention on her. “That is actually a very good comparison,” he said with admiration. “In chess, one must not only look at the move before him, but think several moves ahead. It’s the same in a fight. It’s not just the next punch, but what combination that punch can lead to.”
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