The Unlikely Lady

by Valerie Bowman

  To that end, Jane had employed the second-best weapon in her arsenal, her new chaperone, Mrs. Bunbury. The idea had been inspired by Jane’s other friend Cassandra Monroe’s unfortunate incident last autumn when Cass had been obliged to pretend she was a nonexistent young lady named Patience Bunbury. It had been unfortunate only because in so doing, Cass had been forced to deceive the man she had desperately loved for the last seven years and … well, the entire charade had been a bit questionable after Captain Swift had discovered Cass’s duplicity. It had all ended well enough, however, hence Jane’s journey to their wedding festivities today and her subsequent need for a fictitious chaperone.

  “I’m going to the house party, Mama. As for Mrs. Bunbury … didn’t Lucy write and tell you all about her?” Jane stepped closer to the door.

  Jane’s father squinted up at her and arched a brow. He knew she was making her escape.

  Her mother nodded vigorously. “Yes, but I find it highly suspect that I’ve yet to meet this woman and I—”

  “Didn’t Lucy vouch for Mrs. Bunbury’s high moral character and excellent references?” Jane continued, with another step toward the door.

  The frown lines on her mother’s forehead deepened. “Yes, but I cannot allow my only child to—”

  “Didn’t I tell you I’m going directly to Lucy’s town house where I shall meet Mrs. Bunbury and travel with her and Lucy to the house party and I shall be properly chaperoned by them the entire time?”

  Her mother opened her mouth and shut it again, reminding Jane of a confused frog. “You did, but I refuse to—”

  “Won’t Eloise be with me the entire ride to Lucy’s house?”

  Her mother closed and opened her mouth a few more times. She’d apparently come to the end of her list of rebuttals. If one lobbed enough reasons at Hortense Lowndes without stopping to take a breath, one might overwhelm her with the sheer volume of logic and then … success was merely a matter of time. Jane could almost count the moments to her victory. One … two … three.

  “I simply— I don’t think—” Her mother wrung her hands and scanned about as if she’d find the answers she needed lying on the floor of the study. “Charles, what do you have to say about all of this?”

  Jane’s father looked up and adjusted his own spectacles. “I think Mrs. Bunbury sounds quite capable, dear.”

  Jane nodded, a bright smile on her face. She could always depend upon Papa.

  Hortense, however, continued to wring her hands. Hmm. Apparently, this particular situation called for one more volley.

  Jane folded her hands in front of her serenely. “Won’t you and Papa be coming for the wedding next week, where you’ll be able to see for yourself how well I’ve behaved and meet all the new acquaintances I’ve made?”

  This last bit was the most important. Jane’s mother liked nothing more than for Jane to meet new acquaintances, preferably of the single, titled, male variety. Of course Jane had no intention of doing anything of the sort, but her mother needn’t know that.

  “I shall have the opportunity to meet Mrs. Bunbury next week?” A bit mollified, her mother lowered her shoulders and her face took on a bright, hopeful hue.

  “Of course. Of course.” Jane nodded. Crossing her fingers behind her back, she made her way toward the door. “Now, I’m off to change my gown before Eloise and I go to meet that darling Mrs. Bunbury.”

  * * *

  Half an hour later, Jane and Eloise marched down the steps to the waiting coach. A footman trailed behind them carrying Jane’s trunk. Jane breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently, Mama was mollified for the time being. Jane lived by a steadfast rule: solve one problem at a time, preferably the one right in front of you. Worry about the others later.

  The footman helped both her and Eloise into the coach, where Jane settled in the forward-facing seat and looked out the window toward the house. Her mother peered out the front door. “Good-bye, Mama. See you next week.” She waved a gloved hand and smiled brightly.

  Jane leaned back in her seat and let out a long sigh. She grinned at Eloise. “We’re free.”

  Eloise sighed, too. “It’ll be nice to see the country, miss.”

  “I’m greatly looking forward to it.” Jane wiggled her shoulders and cracked open her book. It would only be a matter of hours before she’d be in the company of her closest friends, Lucy and Cass. She did so look forward to seeing them. No doubt Lucy’s cousin, Upton, would be there, too. So be it. She could handle him. She always enjoyed setting him back on his heels a bit.

  The coach pulled away with a jolt. Miss Jane Lowndes was off to spend a blissfully unchaperoned week in the Surrey countryside.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Surrey

  The country estate of the Earl and Countess of Moreland

  Thwunk. The arrow hit the bull’s-eye with a solid noise, and Jane opened her one closed eye and smiled widely.

  “Another perfect hit,” Lucy called from across the wide lawn. Lucy, with her slim figure, black, curly hair, and different-colored eyes—one was hazel, the other blue—was perhaps the most beautiful lady in the land. To Jane she’d always just been her friend, her fellow wallflower, and the young woman with whom she was quite often up to no good.

  “Well done!” called Julian Swift’s younger sister, Daphne, who was also whiling away the afternoon with Jane and Lucy.

  “I quite like shooting,” Jane replied, pulling another arrow from the quiver that rested next to her. “I can pretend that Lord Bartholomew is standing dead center.”

  Lucy’s crack of laughter bounced through the field.

  “Who is Lord Bartholomew?” Daphne’s brow was wrinkled.

  “He’s one of the most vocal members of Parliament in staunch opposition to the rights of ladies,” Lucy replied. “Let’s just say that Jane is not an admirer of his.”

  Jane shrugged. “I’m telling you, shooting is good for one’s soul. I feel quite refreshed.”

  Lucy laughed once more. “Hmm. Perhaps I should try it again. I’ve been a dismal failure at it to date. I confess I’ve yet to pretend an enemy is standing there. The thought definitely holds more appeal.”

  Daphne laughed, too. “If that’s the case you must allow me to try after you’re done, Miss Lowndes.”

  “First of all, you must call me Jane,” she said to the younger woman. “Secondly, you cannot possibly have any enemies at your age, dear.”

  “You’d be quite surprised,” Daphne said. “I may be nineteen, but there is someone I’m quite peeved at presently.”

  “Do tell.” Lucy stepped closer, a conspiratorial grin on her face. “And you must call me Lucy, too, dear. None of this ‘Your Grace’ nonsense.”

  Daphne sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t tell. But suffice it to say, I have good reasons for wanting to shoot him.”

  “A lady of mystery? I like that.” Lucy nodded slowly.

  “Him?” Jane arched a brow. “That’s the part I like.”

  Daphne gave her a small smile and a shrug.

  Jane watched the girl. Daphne was a tiny little blond thing with a plethora of energy. She’d made her come-out last year and suffered a horrible bout of sadness after her elder brother died the following autumn. It was impossible not to like Daphne. “Pretending to shoot at men or not, I’m pleased you’re out today, Daphne. The fresh air is good for you,” Jane said.

  “I must thank you both for making me smile, and laugh. It’s been so long,” Daphne replied, a faraway look in her sparkling gray eyes.

  Lucy crossed over the lawn and gave her a quick hug. “My dear Daphne. We’re happy to make you laugh. In fact, it’s our specialty. Besides, we’re practically sisters. You’re one of us. Jane and I love Cass as dearly as if she were our sister.”

  “Thank you, Jane and Lucy.” Daphne’s mouth quirked up in a shy smile. “I couldn’t be happier to have Cass joining our family. Mother and I adore her.”

  “Julian too,” Lucy replied with a wink.

  “Of course
,” Daphne agreed. “Julian too.”

  Jane faced the bull’s-eye again, pulled back the bow, closed one eye, and let it fly. Another direct hit. It nearly split the previous arrow in two. “Take that, Lord Bartholomew.”

  “Well done,” Lucy said.

  Daphne clapped her hands. “Why, the only other person I’ve seen shoot an arrow so precisely is Captain Cavendish.”

  Jane and Lucy exchanged a glance over Daphne’s head. Daphne had mentioned Captain Rafferty Cavendish, her brothers’ friend who had been with Donald when he died, on several occasions of late.

  “How is Captain Cavendish doing, dear?” Lucy strolled to where Daphne stood near Jane.

  “All better, or so he says. He’s recovered from his wounds in such short order, the doctors are amazed.”

  “Will he be able to attend the wedding?” Lucy prodded while Jane readied another arrow.

  “I do hope—I mean, I think so.” Daphne tugged at her gown.

  “You’re not peeved at him, are you, dear?” Lucy ventured.

  Jane took a quick look at Daphne. The poor girl was blushing.

  “No, wait. Don’t answer,” Lucy continued. “I’d hate to deprive you of your mystery.”

  Daphne’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you.”

  “One more and then you can try, Daphne,” Jane said. She lined up the arrow and let go. Again, the missile whipped through the air and hit the bull’s-eye in the center.

  “Imagining anyone’s head? Not mine, I hope,” came a sarcastic male voice.

  Jane lowered the bow and swung around to watch the man heading across the lawn toward them. She narrowed her eyes as he approached. “If you care to stand in as my target, Upton, that can easily be arranged.”

  Lucy pulled up her skirts, and rushed to greet her cousin. “Garrett, I’m so glad you’re here. I worried you wouldn’t get away in time for the house party.”

  Garrett greeted Daphne before he replied to his cousin. “I rearranged some things on my schedule.”

  “Ah, a wonder. Who knew drinking and gambling were so easily rearranged?” Jane gave him a tight smile. She caught Daphne’s gaze and rolled her eyes. Daphne giggled.

  “It’s nice to see you, too, Miss Lowndes,” Garrett replied. “I’ll forgo standing in as your target, as tempting as that offer is. I see you have your ever-present book.”

  Jane squinted at the spot on the grass where she’d placed her book. “I’m surprised you recognized it, Upton, you not being a reader.”

  Daphne stepped closer to Jane and took the bow from her hands while Jane made her way over and scooped up her book.

  “Reading is quite overrated if you ask me, Miss Lowndes. Besides, you do enough reading for both of us,” Upton replied. “What is it you’re reading this time?”

  Jane gripped the book. “It’s Montague’s Treatise on the History of Handwriting and Graphology, if you must know.”

  “Good God, that sounds every bit as dull as I expected,” Upton shot back.

  Hands on her hips, Lucy glanced between the two of them. “You two, don’t start. We’re here for Cass and Julian’s wedding, I’ll have you remember, and we have a sennight to get along and enjoy ourselves before the festivities. Let’s start off on a good foot, shall we?”

  Upton turned to Jane. “That is entirely up to Miss Lowndes and whether she chooses to employ her razor-sharp tongue. Seems I’ve already become her target without the benefit of the bow and arrow.” He gave her a long-suffering look. “Shall we, Miss Lowndes?”

  Daphne paused in pulling an arrow from the quiver to wait for Jane’s answer.

  “Shall we what?” Jane asked.

  Upton tilted his head to the side. “Shall we call a truce? For Cassandra’s sake? For the sennight?”

  Jane shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve no desire to cause strife during Cass and Julian’s wedding. Though if I were you I’d stay out of my line of fire, Upton. I’m awfully good at shooting.” She turned back to Daphne, a small grin that Upton couldn’t see planted firmly on her lips.

  Daphne smothered her smile behind her raised arm.

  “That didn’t sound like a yes to me,” Upton replied.

  Jane rolled her eyes where only Daphne could see. “That’s because it wasn’t a yes, Upton. Do try to keep up.”

  Lucy shook her head. “Ignore her, Garrett.” Then she waved her hands in the air. “Please tell me Aunt Mary will be here.” She turned back to Daphne. “That’s Mr. Upton’s mother. You did know he and I are cousins?”

  Daphne nodded.

  “Yes, Mother is coming next week for the wedding,” Garrett replied.

  Jane was truly glad to hear it. Garrett’s mother was a lovely woman whom Jane had had the pleasure of getting to know last summer when the friends spent time at Garrett’s summer house in Bath. A pity its owner had to be there. Garrett Upton was the unfortunate addendum to Jane’s friendship with Lucy. Jane had never taken to the man. In fact, the two had disliked each other nearly upon sight. They’d met at a performance of Much Ado About Nothing, after which the blowhard had eviscerated the play and the performance whilst Jane had defended it, and so it had been between them ever since. Attending the theater was one of her most treasured pastimes. She refused to allow some overly entertained reprobate to spout off on a subject he knew little about.

  If the rumors about him were true, Upton was a rake, a gambler, and a general profligate, and Jane had little use for men who spent their time so frivolously. If those transgressions weren’t enough to condemn him in her eyes, he also seemed to enjoy nothing better than to tease her about her bluestocking tendencies and education, another unforgivable sin. Though Jane had little use for Garrett Upton, Lucy and Cass adored him, and so, suffer his company Jane must.

  “Wonderful,” Lucy replied. “It will be so grand to see Aunt Mary.” Lucy tapped a finger to her lips. “I do hope Mother is civil to her. She and Father will be here next week, as well.”

  Jane spied Upton out of one corner of her eye. A wide grin spread across his face. Also annoying, because Upton wasn’t entirely … unhandsome, especially when he smiled like that. The man was tall with dark, slightly curly hair, high cheekbones, a perfectly straight nose, and hazel eyes that turned a mossy green when he traded barbs with her.

  “Don’t worry,” Upton replied. “Mother can defend herself. I’ve yet to see her in a situation she cannot handle.”

  At least the ass had respect for his mother.

  Daphne let her first arrow fly. It shot off in a wide arc, landing in the grass nowhere near the target. “Oh, Jane, you must show me how you do it.”

  “Happy to,” Jane replied. She set her book back on the grass and strode toward Daphne.

  “Allow me.” Upton made it to Daphne’s side before Jane.

  Just like Upton, trying to show her up. Jane crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him through the narrow slits her eyes had become.

  Upton slid another arrow from the quiver and put his arms around the diminutive Miss Swift. He helped her align the arrow and pull back the bow. “You must keep your eye on the target.”

  Daphne let the arrow fly. Thwunk. It hit the target a bit off center.

  Upton whistled. “Well done.”

  “Yes, well done. Both of you,” Jane called, feeling uneasy. Good heavens. She’d just wondered what it would feel like to have Upton’s arms around her, showing her how to do anything. Not that she needed him to. Never that.

  “Thank you so much for your help,” Daphne said, smiling sweetly at Upton.

  Upton let his arms fall away from Daphne. He turned his head to look at Jane. A small, not uncharming smile rested on his firmly molded lips. “Thank you, Miss Lowndes. Coming from you, that is quite a compliment.”

  Lucy pressed a hand to her throat in a mock gasp. “What’s this? The two of you actually being civil to each other?”

  Half of Jane’s mouth quirked up. “I can be civil … when I choose to be.”

  “I’m extremely glad
to hear it,” Upton replied. “I have to admit I’ve doubted it.”

  Waving away a servant, Daphne strode across the lawn to retrieve the arrows, leaving the others alone for the moment.

  “This house party may be extraordinary indeed, if we’re off to such a fine start,” Lucy said.

  Upton arched a brow. “I do hope this is a great deal different from the last house party we all attended.”

  Lucy pretended to study her gloves. “The one last autumn at Upbridge Hall?”

  Upton gave her a skeptical look. “Yes, the one last autumn at Upbridge Hall.”

  “What was so awful about it?” Lucy asked.

  Jane shook her head. “Really, Lucy?”

  “Must I count the ways?” Upton added.

  Lucy pushed up her chin. “I take great exception to that, Garrett. I think it worked out splendidly. We’re here at the wedding, aren’t we? A wedding that might not have happened if we hadn’t had that house party last autumn.”

  “All’s well that ends well, eh?” Upton pulled at the cuff of his sleeve.

  “Exactly.” Lucy nodded so forcefully that one of her black curls flew out of her coiffure and bobbed on her forehead.

  “I would give a warning, Lucy. Don’t try any of your antics during Cassandra’s wedding,” Upton said.

  Jane had been expecting such a speech. Upton was known to be the voice of reason when his much more exuberant cousin got a scheme in her head. Lucy’s “antics” always seemed to work out for the best, but there was usually trouble before they were over.

  “Nonsense.” Lucy tossed a hand in the air. “I would never do anything to cause trouble during Cass and Julian’s wedding.”

  “Lucy.” A note of warning sounded in Upton’s voice.

  Lucy pursed her lips and regarded her cousin. She blinked innocently. “Yes?”