“I don’t know. Even if someone else had come along, I doubt they would have been as dashing as you.” Her blush deepened to epic proportions. “It would have been one of my father’s widowed friends, or some dissolute rake looking to marry money.”
“You find me dashing, do you?”
She didn’t giggle or bat her eyes. No, she gave up without trying, and handed over his handkerchief, mute with her odd, admiring anxiety. She glanced longingly toward the house, and he took the hint.
“We ought to return, I suppose, before your flirting makes me kiss you.”
She looked shocked. Well, she could not have been kissed before. There was something appealing about an absolutely pure woman. And something appalling too, of course.
“I shall kiss your hand, if you don’t object.” He winked at her. “That’s what I meant, naturally.”
She offered her gloved hand and he pretended not to notice her trembling as he lifted it to his lips. He placed a delicate kiss upon the back of her palm, holding her gaze as he did. She did not have the glorious elegance of Ophelia, nor her older sister’s sparkling ebullience, but there was something there that compelled him. Her deference and vulnerability, maybe. He could win her over easily—and ask her to do just about anything in the bedroom once she was his.
That was how his dastardly mind worked. She found him “dashing,” but he was thinking about bedding her, and exploiting her purity and fear to his advantage.
Ah, well. Perhaps marriage would reform him. Why not? Nothing, to this point, had made reasonable sense. He matched his stride to hers as he led her back through the gardens. Once, she reached out to trail her fingertips along the top of a manicured shrub. His naturalist, as yet unknowable.
Back in the parlor, the parents were drawing up invitation lists for a wedding to take place two days before the New Year.
Chapter Four
How Lovely
Jane drifted amongst the guests at her wedding breakfast, feeling like a princess in her ruffled, dove-gray bridal gown. Her parents’ ballroom had been transformed into a winter wonderland of flowers and lace, with delicate glittering snowflakes hanging from the chandeliers. This elegant holiday wedding had been the best Christmas present she’d ever received. Between the lovely church service, her friends’ well wishes, and the shining weather, the day had been perfect in every sense. Well, except for one.
Lord Townsend didn’t seem very happy to be wed.
She told herself it was nerves as they stood at the altar. She’d been nervous too. The church had been full to the rafters, as just about everyone still in town had attended. He’d stood so straight and tall beside her he could have been a prince. His sister Felicity was married to a prince, but Jane couldn’t imagine that man, her new brother-in-law, being any finer than Lord Townsend in his tailored black wedding suit.
She feared she might stumble upon her vows, but his steady manner gave her the confidence she lacked. Now, as they rode together to their wedding breakfast, his mood remained sober. Almost somber.
Well, she supposed most men looked on marriage as a loss of freedom, though she believed they’d have a marvelous union once they came to know one another. She’d do everything in her power to make him a happy husband because she admired him so. Every time their eyes met across her parents’ ballroom, she felt a shiver of amazement. I’m his wife now. He’s my husband.
It wasn’t that she didn’t feel deserving of marrying such a fine, handsome lord. She’d just never imagined it would happen after the heartbreak of the previous year. How quickly one’s circumstances could change.
“Jane, dear, come sit with us.”
Her sister beckoned her over to a table decorated with winter greenery, and Lord Braxton jumped up to seat her. Speaking of changed circumstances, how lucky her sister had been to find such a doting husband after Lord Wescott left her in the lurch. Lord Townsend’s sister Rosalind sat at the table too, along with her friends Hazel and Elizabeth. They were Wescott’s younger sisters, and Jane was pleased they’d come to wish her well, though Wescott himself had wisely decided not to attend. “Braxie,” as June called her husband, probably would have flattened the man.
And of course, Wescott was no longer Lord Townsend’s friend.
“My dear, how radiant you look.” June took her hand with sisterly affection. “And now you are a married lady, like me. It’s wonderful growing close to your husband and setting up your own household.” She smiled at Lord Braxton, the picture of newlywed bliss. “I cannot express how comfortable it is to be at home with someone you adore.”
“You flatter me, darling,” said Braxton. “And I adore you, too.”
Jane envied their easy camaraderie. How long would it take to feel comfortable with Lord Townsend? “I’m glad to be married, especially to such a distinctive gentleman. I very much admire your brother,” she said to Rosalind.
The sable-haired beauty took her hand and squeezed it. “Townsend is happy you accepted his suit. Honestly, I think marriage is just what he needs, and I’m glad we are to be sisters now. We’ll have to visit as soon as you and my brother are settled.”
Jane felt grateful for the warmth in Rosalind’s eyes, but a little deflated about the idea they would need to “settle.” There was so much weight within the word, so much expectation. They would need to get to know one another better if they had any hope of matching June’s happiness. They’d need to talk, and touch. Kiss perhaps. Do other things, which Jane vaguely knew about.
“Hazel is to be married soon,” said Elizabeth, her polite voice breaking into Jane’s thoughts. “She’s ever so in love.”
“Mama and Papa told you not to say anything about it yet,” scolded Hazel in a hushed tone. “Not today. This is Jane’s special day.”
“It’s all right,” said Jane. “It’s hard to keep such news a secret. Has someone asked for your hand?”
“Yes,” said Hazel, blushing pink. “It’s not to be announced until the spring, but the Marquess of Fremont came to visit my father. We met at a ball last season and instantly knew we were meant to be together.”
“How wonderful for you, to be able to marry someone so dear to your heart.”
As soon as she said the words, she regretted them. Rosalind would think Jane was disappointed in her brother, and June…well, she had wanted to marry Lord Wescott for the longest time.
“It is wonderful,” said Lord Braxton gallantly, to cover Jane’s gaffe. “There is a precious value in sharing your life with another person, a value in knowing they will be there for you. Marriage isn’t always easy, but it’s always worthwhile, wouldn’t you say so, my love?”
June met her husband’s gaze with a giddy smile. “Absolutely. You’ve a way of expressing just how I feel. Oh, I’m so happy for you, Jane. You have so much to look forward to as a new bride.”
She tried to return her sister’s smile, but hers had a bit of a wobble. “I’m excited, but nervous as well.”
“Nervous? Whatever for? Your Lord Townsend is the top of the heap as far as marriage prospects. Not to talk about your brother as a mere prospect,” she said to Rosalind in apology, “but you must admit he’s been pursued by dozens of ladies over the years.”