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JANE GASPED AS SHE looked up into a set of hollow eyes set in translucent skin.
“Miss Shaw?”
She let out a breath as she realized who it was. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Lawrence, I was startled.”
“I gathered that from your very dramatic gasp.” She looked again to see all traces of translucence gone, his eyes a normal brown, friendly and smiling.
Meg walked by, “That’s what happens when you read Udolpho...” She teased and Jane blushed.
“If you’ll excuse me, I am headed into breakfast.”
Mr. Lawrence nodded. “It is an excellent breakfast too. Miss Shaw, should you care to ride with me this morning? George told me the stables are available to anyone that wants some exercise.”
“I think that would be most pleasant.”
“Excellent. Shall we say 11 o’clock?”
“Yes that should be fine, Mr. Lawrence.
He gave a short bow. “Good morning, Miss Shaw.”
With a little more spring in her step, she sat down to breakfast next to Meg. Lord Petersham was eating with Mr. Pratt and Lord Wyndham, but their conversation was quiet and unobtrusive.
“Do you think you might encourage Mr. Lawrence, because for all he is a nice man, he does take some getting used to.” Meg took a bite of toast and prepared a bite of eggs.
“I find his company interesting and he has become a good friend, I hope. Beyond that, I cannot say.” Jane stopped buttering her toast to look at Meg. “Do you object to him so greatly?”
Meg wrinkled her nose. “No, of course not, but should you care to look at him every day, do you think?”
Jane protested, “I admit he is not as well looking as....”
“Charlie? George? Or even John Pratt, come to think of it. Even Mr. McInnes.” She blushed at the last and Jane smiled.
“No, perhaps not, but he has qualities that can make up for his lack. At this point I can only repeat we are friends and for now that will do.”
“That does seem an excellent place to start.” Meg looked thoughtful as she gazed at nothing.
“Do you feel that you and Mr. McInnes are becoming friends?” Jane took a bite of her toast and waited.
“Oh...I suppose it’s the only thing you could call it. So I can only take a leaf out of your book and say ‘that will do’ for now.” She sighed, and Jane held back a smile. “Well, I am to meet mama, for she has a list of things I ‘must’ accomplish today, something about utmost importance for one’s character which is ridiculous, because of course she wants to keep me busy so I don’t get in trouble. Not that I....well.” She shook her head. “I will find you later, Jane.”
“I look forward to it, Meg.” And she was left alone with what was left of her toast, her chocolate refilled by the observant footman.
Mr. Pratt rose and nodded to the other gentlemen as he began to leave. Jane observed him once more, silently concurring with Lady Margaret that he was indeed a fine looking man. His sullen behavior seemed at odds with his Grecian looks, and as he turned his hooded eyes toward her she mentally crossed him off her list as the unidentified friend.
Some minutes later, a clock chimed ten in the hallway. Standing, Jane excused herself from the still grouped lords with their third helpings, and left to prepare for her ride.
***
“GEORGE, I SHOULD LIKE to play a game of chess this evening.”
“Alright, but wouldn’t Our Dear Mother be a bit put out that you aren’t partnering Miss Pratt in whist?”
“That’s the problem. I can’t stand the game, and she’s forever dragging me over there and making insinuations and pretending I’m clever.”
“Does it bother you that she pretends you’re clever or that she truly believes you aren’t?”
“Dash it all, Georgie, intervene, won’t you?”
George hit the billiard ball, which bounced pointlessly around the table.
“You really must learn to be a little better at billiards, Georgie, if you want me to join you.” Charles shook his head and adjusted his cue.
George waved his hand about. “Yes, yes, and hunting and drinking and gambling, what?” He pushed out his stomach and walked a duck walk.
Charles laughed. “If you become like Reg, so help me, I’ll hang you from the highest tree.”
George laughed back. “Chess it is.”
“Excellent.”
George took a pull on his cigar and eyed Charles. “There’s something else, isn’t there, Charlie?”
“No, no, nothing.” George raised his eyebrows. “Well, at least nothing I want to talk about right now. I’m curious, that’s all and I’m going to do some...manipulation.”
“I see.”
“No you don’t.”
“That’s true, I don’t. But if I’m going to have a game of chess tonight, I want to make our wagers now.”
Charles hmphed. “Don’t be silly Georgie, you’ve never beaten me at chess.”
“Nonsense. I beat you once.”
“Yes, after I broke my leg and the good doctor dosed me with laudanum. I don’t believe that counts.”
“It counts when your brother has beaten you since you were five and you are exasperated with his ability to read your mind.”
Charles smiled. “Ah.”
“Indeed. So, wagers.”
“Very well. What do you want?”
“Our Dear Mother is going to put us in partners for the games tomorrow. I should like to be partnered with Miss Mary Makon.” George put his cigar back in his mouth and took a shot, which went into the corner pocket. Charles raised his eyebrow and looked back at George.
“So that’s the way the wind blows?” He looked speculative.
“Oh come on, she’s an angel and she even looks like one.”
“Hmm.” Charles had tilted his head a bit, studying George. “You know Our Dear Mother would never approve.”
“Yes, yes, well it hasn’t come to that. At least not yet. I merely wanted a chance to....well. To...”
“Talk to her? Spend some time deciding if she’s worth the row before you take the plunge and commit?” Charles had a small smile on his face.
“Well...yes.”
“Very well.”
George looked up. “Just like that? Very well?”
“Well, you haven’t decided to marry her yet, and frankly your odds of winning the game aren’t very good, so I may not have to worry about it.”
Chalk came flying at his face, and he ducked.
“Alright, my high and mighty wise older brother. What do you want?”
“I... need you to deliver something for me.”
“And what might that be?” They put away their cues and headed to the door.
“I will arrange it later, merely a small item.”
“Not a love letter then, a secret desire to meet Miss Pratt in the garden for...”
“Oh hush, Georgie. Although, I believe you’ve given me an idea with this partner business.”
“Charlie old boy, you get more mysterious every day.” George clapped Charles on the back and grinned at him. At the bottom of a stairwell they parted ways, but George had only gotten a few steps before he heard, “Georgie. Don’t make any rash decisions before coming to me, right?” George grinned, shaking his head as he climbed the stairs.
***
JANE CAME BACK FROM her ride with Mr. Lawrence with energy to spare. He had kept their ride at quieter paces, and Rosie, which she was informed was Lady Margaret’s horse, was much too sweet to argue. With thoughts of her anonymous friend and Mr. Lawrence’s marked attention swirling about in her head, she encountered the butler.
“Simmons, is there by chance a music room where a person could pound on the piano a bit but not disturb anyone?”
Simmons eyed the untidy brown bun and bright green eyes and let slip a hint of a smile. “Of course, miss. On the 3rd floor go to the right towards the east wing, then bend around with the house. If you get lost, any of the staff would be happy to show you. I’m afraid I must go order the carriage or I would show you myself.”
“Oh no need, I’m sure I’ll find it just fine. Thank you!” She made her way upstairs past apartments she guessed might belong to the family, and easily found the quiet corner with the oddly hidden music room. An inexpensive piano and a settee were the only occupants, and with butter yellow walls and a blue bird motif painted near the ceiling, it was charming. An hour or so of relieving her feelings had spun her imagination into a more practical state, and she left to prepare for dinner feeling much more the thing.
***
JANE EYED HER DRESSES with a frown. “Sarah, tonight I think I should like to look...better, if possible. What do you suggest I wear?”
Sarah clapped her hands together. “Oh, miss, you never wear your green satin, and the color just matches your eyes.”
Jane hesitated. Her green satin was the only dress her aunt hadn’t ordered for her, and as a result she had never worn it. She thought of Mr. Lawrence and bit her lip. “Very well.”
“And if you allow me to do your hair with a few tendrils down the back....” Sarah hinted.
“Oh, alright. I suppose we might as well do it right.”
And so it was a rather odd combination of nerves and confidence that pushed Jane through the door of the drawing room, her eyes latching on Meg, whose eyes widened in approval and came to grab her hands.
“Jane, you look marvelous. Simply perfect. You must do your hair just like that for the ball, for you are sure to be much in demand, and oh look, Mr. Lawrence can’t keep his eyes off of you, and did you see Sir Reginald glance over here, he nearly dropped his quizzing glass!”
Jane blushed, now unable to meet Meg’s eyes. “What utter nonsense. I am just as plain as I was this morning. Perhaps I should have Sarah put my hair in a bun. I did not mean...”
“To what, set the men on their ears? My dear friend, that is a compliment, not a set down that requires retrenchment.” Mary had come forward with her opinion as well.
Jane accepted Mary’s straightforward compliment with a shake of her head. “Then Mary, you must allow me to return the compliment, for your hair looks very well in that style.”
Mary smiled as her perfect curls waved. “Thank you. My maid and I spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to determine how to get it just right. James was near fits.” Her mouth grabbed a smirk which Jane returned.
Simmons announced dinner, and Jane found Mr. Lawrence at her side.
“Miss Shaw, you look very well tonight. Your hair is lovely.”
Jane silently thanked Sarah. “Thank you, Mr. Lawrence. I confess I was feeling a little daring.”
“Then may I say that ‘daring’ looks well on you.”
She blushed. “Thank you.”
“Surely such a compliment is not unpleasing?” His confusion wrinkled his forehead.
Jane shook her head. “I am not...that is, I am not used to such attention.”
“Miss Shaw, as your friend I will not pretend I do not understand you. I think I understand how you could be...overlooked in favor of other young women. I think on further acquaintance, however, your quieter beauty may last longer in one’s memory.”
Jane looked at the floor as she felt her face heat through. “Mr. Lawrence, that might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Thank you.”
His ears turned the slightest shade of pink as he seated her then sat to her right.
Dinner was pleasant with Sir Reginald’s comments kept at bay by a precocious Lord Petersham and an unresponsive Mr. McInnes. Mr. Lawrence’s conversation was interesting without being disconcerting, and no one made a comment about unmentionables. When the women retired, Jane sat next to Mary, but their conversation was immediately interrupted.
“Miss Shaw, that is such an interesting color on you.” Miss Pratt sat across from them, her sister following suit, and Jane sat straighter, her eyes alert.
“Isn’t it? She looks simply marvelous, doesn’t she?” Jane made a noise at Meg’s response.
“Yes, well, your coloring might look better with lighter shades, don’t you think Belle?” Miss Annabelle startled and looked at her sister and then Jane, but Miss Stanley answered instead.
“Oh no, Cynthia, her eyes are green, so she should wear green, not pastels.” Miss Pratt pressed her lips together. “At least that’s what my modiste told me when I tried to buy blue, for you know my eyes are brown. I ended up with a ball gown the sweetest shade of apricot and I look just the thing in it, you know.” She smiled at Jane, who appreciated the sweet remark and Miss Pratt changed the topic.
Jane had gathered a headache by the time the men arrived, but not wanting to seem rude, she moved toward the window and listened without participating to the quiet conversation of the Makons and Mr. Lawrence with Meg interjecting often.
“Perhaps we could set up a game of cards, what do you say my lord?” Miss Pratt smiled at Lord Harrington.
He glanced at George, who looked up and said, “Charlie, I had hoped you would consent to play me in chess.” He grinned at his brother with the slightest hint of a wink.
“Well, George, I always give you a good game if you’re truly up for the challenge.” He threw his brother a cocky smile as he gestured to the table, where a precocious servant had brought a set. “Forgive me, Miss Pratt, I cannot resist the opportunity to wallop my brother at chess.” She smiled in acceptance, and sat on a chair close to observe.
“Oh heavens you two, not chess. Anything but chess.” Lady Harrington pressed her hand to the side of her head.
“Forgive me for asking, but why not chess?” Jane leaned forward.
“Oh my dear, George is forever trying to beat Charles, and Charles is forever winning the most outrageous wagers....it is not something you should do with guests.” This last part was said to her boys, who were both attending to her conversation with Jane.
“What if we do not make any wagers?” George smiled at Charles.
“Not any?” Lady Harrington lost her eyebrows as she looked back and forth between them.
Charles spoke up, “Well at least none that would require George to be in the all-together.” He smiled and looked at Jane as he did so, and she found herself chuckling, her eyes wide.
“Petersham, what is this? When did that happen?” Sir Reginald asked Lady Harrington, and everyone paused for the answer.
“I...well, frankly, it happens more often than ...this is not an appropriate conversation.” She twisted her lips and changed the subject, but Jane pressed her lips together to stop from laughing looked closely at the brothers. George rolled his eyes, entirely unembarrassed.
The hand-carved set looked well-worn with use. Curiosity brought everyone over to watch, but after a few moves, most had been distracted by a game of cards set up in the other corner. Jane sat on the couch next to Miss Makon, but her view was frequently obstructed by Miss Pratt, who hovered in a most annoying manner.
“By George, you have been practicing.”
“Of course I have, and stop taking my name in vain.” George smirked and moved his rook.
Charles’s smile was softer, but there all the same as he sat back in his chair. “Check.”
“Yes, well, hold that thought, old boy.” George moved another piece – Jane couldn’t see which, for Miss Pratt had moved in front of her again. “Check.”
Both sat forward to view the board and Charles made a funny noise as he exclaimed, “I think we’ve got a stalemate.”
“Haha! A stalemate! I’ve got a stalemate!” George stood, grinning.
“You really have been practicing, you sly dog.” Charles stood and they shook hands.
“That I have, that I have. And you know, you could say we both won, eh?”
Charles grinned, “You could say that.”
Jane commented quietly, “It’s too bad you didn’t wager.” Startled, both men turned to look at her knowing smile.
***
JANE WAS TUCKED INTO bed with a candle lit and Udolpho burying any happy memories of the day, when there came a knock on her door. She lay there for a moment pondering whether her imagination had conjured the noise and if not what horrors would be so polite as to knock first. Setting her book down, she grimaced as she retrieved her dressing gown and tiptoed to her door. Opening it, she observed no one there and peeking her head out, not a soul in the hallway. Looking down, however, she saw a book, which she picked up, and giving the dark hallways one more suspicious glance, she shut her bedroom door, holding the book close.
She turned and looked at the bed, which now felt very far away with a variety of terrors to grab her legs should she make an attempt to get there. Gritting her teeth, she ran and landed on her mattress, then giggled as she let out a breath.
The book was was titled “The Lady of the Lake” by Walter Scott, Esq. She thumbed through, then glanced at the discarded Udolpho. Deciding in favor of a better night sleep, she turned back to “The Lady of the Lake”. As she reached the first page, a scrap of paper fell out with a missive:
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PERHAPS THIS WILL HELP alleviate any horrors. – a friend.
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SMILING, SHE LAID BACK and began to read.