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THE MORNING WAS NO different than the day before, with a letter waiting for Jane in the jade box. Only this time, she hurried and read it as she made her way to the stables, using the banister as a guide while she walked.
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MISS SHAW,
I enjoyed watching Lord Petersham and Miss Makon during the games yesterday, and was surprised at how obvious their attachment. Perhaps it is only obvious to me now that you have pointed it out. There were, in fact, some surprising sets, and I wonder at Lord Harrington’s motivations, for he surely manipulated as handily as his mother. I suspect, however, that you had some hand in it as well?
I am only too willing to help matchmake Lord Petersham, but I do not believe he needs our help. Your claim to Lady Margaret’s preference is something I am still not quite convinced of, but I do agree it bears watching.
The only other observation I made was similar to yours with regards to Lord Harrington. I would only venture to say he seemed obvious in his preference.
I will also endeavor to deliver the report on the American exploration, as I have finished it. I must confess I now feel the urge to become an intrepid explorer with the sole intent of having a myriad of adventures. Perhaps you will accompany me and draw our observations? We should make an excellent team, I think.
Your friend
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JANE BEAMED AS SHE read the letter, trying unsuccessfully not to feel a heady rush that she might be preferred over Miss Pratt. Shoving it into her pocket, she determined to respond after her morning ride. However, she stopped short at the sight of Lord Harrington helping Cynthia Pratt onto Clover then moving to mount Mermaid.
“Drat!” She had forgotten about her conversation with Miss Pratt and now found herself unsure of what should come next. Still far enough away to not attract attention, she stepped behind a large bush and peeked her head around, much like a child keeping an outlook. He seemed solicitous of Miss Pratt, but more importantly he was not looking out for her. Had he changed his mind about their morning rides? Had that perfect snippet of a girl told him falsehoods? Was she...should she march out there as if she did this every day?
She felt the strongest urge to cry, but instead clamped down her teeth and turned away heading back towards bed, but not sleep.
***
DEAR FRIEND,
I confess I did request that Lord Harrington pair Lady Margaret and Mr. McInnes, for I am sure there is a growing friendship there. I realize that seems manipulative, but I assure you I meant no harm in the suggestion.
Your timing was fortuitous, for I have just finished The City of New York and confess to laughing much too heartily. My Aunt Jem would disapprove most vigorously and assign me a book of sermons as recompense. I hope you do not do the same! I was also delighted to find the report sitting on my bedside table. You seem to have a fairy at your bidding, for I cannot discern your identity and you seem to be invisible when necessary. I have only just started the report, but find it very illuminating. I agree, it does inspire one to march out to the unknown and discover for mankind all there is to know.
And now I must ask your forgiveness, for a situation has occurred that I find I need advice on, and who better than an anonymous friend that has proven himself capable of keeping secrets? I’m sure you know by now that the past few days I have been riding each morning with Lord Harrington. This morning I walked to the stables to discover Cynthia Pratt seated on Clover, and Lord Harrington looking much more pleased with his morning companion. I find myself in an awkward situation, for we have an understanding, and yet he may desire to be alone with his intended. To further complicate matters, you and I have both observed his lack of preference for her. Do you have advice for your friend?
Miss Shaw
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JANE SAT BACK AND REVIEWED her letter, setting it down as her gaze focused on the afternoon sunshine pouring in through the library windows. Would it disturb Mr. Lawrence to hear her speak of enjoying her mornings with Lord Harrington? Or was she making too much of it? Or perhaps it wasn’t Mr. Lawrence at all. She scowled and then her gaze focused on the person now standing before her.
“Mr. Lawrence!” Astonished at his timing, she stood.
“Miss Shaw, how pleased I am to find you alone. I hoped you might have time to enjoy our ride now, but if you are busy...?” He gestured to her letter, which she hastily folded into a mess.
“I would enjoy a ride very much, Mr. Lawrence. If you will only give me a moment, I will change.”
“Excellent. I will meet you at the stables?” His smile appeared and she nodded.
She blew out a breath as he left. Hurrying, she placed the letter into the box, then left to change.
A quarter of an hour later, she found Mr. Lawrence riding a black named Captain, while Clover stood waiting for her, her reins dangling in Johnny’s hands.
The groom gave her a look of surprise, but said nothing as he helped her mount.
Mr. Lawrence was quiet for a time, so Jane followed suit as they made their way past the lake at a slow canter, the geese flapping and squawking at their intrusion. It wasn’t until the goose honks faded from their ears that he slowed and then finally spoke.
“Miss Shaw, do you...” he stopped, and she waited for the rest of his question. “That is, do you enjoy London?”
His halting words surprised her. “I...yes, in many ways I do.” She waited for him to explain.
“And you would not be...averse to living there?”
Blushing, but not entirely sure why, she answered. “I had never considered a permanent situation there before. But no, I suppose I would not be.”
“It is only that you seem so comfortable in the country.” He hurried to explain.
She smiled. “I do love my long walks and riding and oh, the trees and the sky when I can get it.” She frowned as the sky stopped cooperating, throwing up a dusty cloud covering.
“Yes, whenever I look for you, it seems you are enjoying the outdoors. Lady Harrington seems to disapprove most heartily.”
“Lady Harrington disapproves of everything most heartily. Even raspberry tarts.” She smiled at her memory.
He looked at her. “Those were excellent tarts.”
“Yes, they were.”
They were silent a moment, and Jane decided it was time to play the detective.
“Mr. Lawrence, you do not ever display any musical talent.” She pressed her lips together and held her breath waiting for his reply.
“No, I’m afraid I lack the ability.”
“Oh, but surely you play something, for you seem to have an ear for it. Perhaps the pianoforte?” Her question seemed so bold, and she sat forward a little, Clover skipping a step as a result.
“I’m afraid, Miss Shaw, I never had the opportunity. My mother thought to give me lessons as a boy, but I convinced her it would cut into my time playing cricket.”
Astonished, she said, “Are you sure?”
He looked at her, confused. “Miss Shaw, I am very sure I have never learned to play the pianoforte.”
“Oh, that is...” She saw the look on his face and changed course. “I beg your pardon. I was distracted and I was sure someone had mentioned you playing the pianoforte.”
“I’m afraid not, for my talents lie in a very different direction.”
“Of course they do. Tell me more of your research.”
They spent a pleasant half hour discussing his work, and Jane arrived back at the stables feeling worn out. They had begun walking back toward the house when she realized what he had just said.
“You are planning a trip to the Americas?” She stopped and looked at him, her neck craning from being so close.
“Yes, is that really so surprising?” His smile as he looked at her made her step back carefully.
“Only in that it seems a long way to travel.”
“It is long, perhaps, but I had hoped to complement the Captains Lewis and Clarke, for if our research overlapped to some degree, we could compare –”
“Captains Lewis and Clarke? Who...traveled into the interior of the continent?”
“Yes, are you familiar with their journey?”
“I am...reading their report, or at least, I started it recently.” She looked at him, her eyes wide.
“Oh, that is excellent, Miss Shaw. I have read it myself and found it most inspiring, for I am sure – “
But she did not hear what he was sure of, for she was entirely confused. He did not play the piano, but he had read the report – what did that mean?! She looked up to see him watching her.
“Miss Shaw?”
“I beg your pardon, I had just thought of something I...must see to.”
“I shall burden you with my company no longer. Only, I had wondered...” Here his ears turned pale pink and she waited to see what would discompose him so.
“Would you be willing to save me the first set at this evening’s ball?”
She blushed in return. “Of course, Mr. Lawrence.”
“I shall look forward to it.” And with a smile, he left her to her thoughts.
***
JANE SAT AT HER VANITY, Sarah arranging her hair in the artful way that continued to work so well for her. Her dress was white, and she and Meg had spent some time doing whitework around the hem. Navy ribbon adorned the neckline and waist, a compliment to her coloring. Sweeping her short train under her, so Sarah wouldn’t step on it, she reached for her gloves. A knock on the door surprised her and she looked to Sarah who shrugged and went to answer it.
“Miss, it’s...flowers. For the ball tonight, I should think.”
Jane turned. “Flowers? But...”
“There’s a note, miss.” She handed her a small slip of paper with only a few words:
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PLEASE ALLOW ME TO express my admiration despite my anonymity.
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“SHOULD I PUT THEM IN your hair, miss? This pink would look so well with your dress.”
“I’m not sure I should. They’re anonymous.” She frowned at the small spray roses looking innocent in their bed of tissue.
Sarah grinned. “That’s the best kind, you know. Plus, it’ll set a few tongues wagging.”
“Oh, I shouldn’t like that.” She shook her head.
“Oh miss, it won’t do any harm, I’m sure. Look, they look well with your hair, don’t they?” Sarah held them up to her brown locks and Jane smiled.
“Alright. Just a few.”
Sarah took only a few minutes to finish and then Jane was standing ready to go. “Thank you, Sarah, you’ve done wonderfully this evening.”
“Oh miss, you do look well. You’ll tell me how it was?”
“Of course I will. And you must take those extra roses for yourself.” And with that, she left, coming downstairs just in time to see Lady Harrington waiting for her with the last carriage.
“Jane, you are in excellent looks this evening.” Meg smiled at Jane.
Lady Harrington interrupted. “You will of course, not be the belle of the ball or any such nonsense as Cynthia Pratt is used to, but you look very respectable.”
“Oh mother....” Jane smiled at Meg’s admonitions as she walked out the front door while Simmons bowed. Mr. Lawrence waited outside the carriage and handed them each in, following himself to sit next to Jane. They moved forward immediately, following the caravan of carriages Lady Harrington had filled.
“Good evening Miss Shaw.” Mr. Lawrence smiled at her in his quiet way. “Lady Harrington, Lady Margaret. You are both looking lovely this evening.”
“Thank you, Mr. Lawrence.” Jane replied as Lady Harrington made a small nod with her head. Meg looked back and forth at them then paused as she looked at Jane, her eyebrows raised.
Jane looked out the window, ignoring Meg’s attempt to communicate silently. He was an excellent man, really, but she didn’t feel the sparks she felt when she was close to Lord Harrington. Surely it wasn’t too much to ask that she feel a physical pull toward her future husband. Closing her eyes at her shallow thought, she willed herself to look at the time in his company as an opportunity to open her mind and rethink her image of him; as a suitor, a friend, and a reasonable match.
***
THE ASSEMBLY ROOMS rippled with heat, the people packed close providing an assortment of partners for the dances. Jane was delighted to discover Mr. Lawrence was an excellent dancer and found her time with him not tiring in the least as they continued to speak with the ease of their previous conversations.
Near the end of the evening she finally found Lady Margaret again, and together they found a spot where they could huddle to converse about the night’s events.
“Miss Shaw?” Lord Harrington stood at her right. She looked at him, astonished at his approach.
“Would you do me the honor of dancing the quadrille with me?” His face was still as he waited for her reply.
“Of course, my lord.” She curtsied; he bowed and was gone in the next moment. She looked back at Meg, waiting for her reaction.
“Oh Jane, did you see Mr. Lawrence dance with Cynthia? I swear she turned three shades of green.”
“I didn’t. Why would she object to Mr. Lawrence?” Jane breathed out, relieved her feelings weren’t plastered on her face.
“On principle, of course. If it’s not Charlie, then the man ought to at least be good looking and with a respectable fortune.”
“I expect Miss Pratt’s enjoyment of a dance must be very different from ours, with our expecting merely a pleasant experience.”
“Oh yes. Although I have noticed Mr. Lawrence is very attentive to you, Jane, except you don’t seem to be jealous in the slightest. Do you think - oh bother, there’s Mr. McInnes. How can a man so contrary want to dance with anybody?”
Meg’s face froze as Mr. McInnes appeared and gave a short bow. “Lady Margaret, would it please you to dance the next with me?” His face was blank, his mouth a line, indeed his entire body contradicted his question.
“Yes, of course.” Meg’s face matched his own, but as he left, she rolled her eyes. “Oh Jane, I must confess I do not know if I should match his seriousness with my own or greet his with humor. Despite my efforts to know him better, I find myself barely able to tell you anything more about him you do not already know, or at least guess.”
Jane agreed, “He does seem a contradiction.”
Meg leaned forward. “Jane, I must confess something to you.”
Jane lifted her eyebrows.
“I have been riding every morning with Mr. McInnes.” Her cheeks grew pink.
“You...have?”
“Oh Jane, he rides over on his horse each morning and meets me at the stables at nine. In fact, he’s done so ever since we teased him about whether or not he enjoyed riding, you remember?”
Jane nodded. “That is very interesting.”
“Isn’t it? For you know, George and Mary have been riding once or twice that I’ve found out, and you have been.....oh! Jane, I’m ever so sorry. I told Cynthia of your morning rides with Charles. I know I promised I wouldn’t say anything, but you know there were five of them and somehow it just sort of came out!”
Jane patted Meg’s arm. “You needn’t worry, I am sure it would have come out eventually, so there is no harm done. And I am sure your brother prefers Cynthia’s company to mine at any rate.” She swallowed her words, unsure of their truth.
Meg frowned. “I don’t think so. He has been so different lately; it is hard to know what he thinks anymore.”
Jane turned the conversation back to Meg’s problems. “If you are spending such a lot of time with him, surely you are learning to understand him better?”
Meg waved her hand. “On the contrary, I find him still so very difficult to understand. But Jane, he continues to gallop each morning with me, and I am sure I don’t imagine his growing regard for me despite my unladylike tendencies.”
“Yet your hair has looked perfect each morning at breakfast. Am I to take it that you are managing alright despite the gallop?”
“Oh you may tease me all you like, but Jane, it is perfectly wonderful, for we hardly say a word and just go as fast as you please. Indeed, he merely tips his hat at me when we meet and off we go. Only...” And here Meg started to blush again. “When we finish, he helps lift me off Rosie, and Jane, I swear he does it only so he can...” Meg blushed harder, and then leaned forward whispering, “He puts his hands right round my waist, Jane. And he stands so very close, I am sure...I am sure he might....that is...”
“Lady Margaret?” Mr. McInnes was standing nearby, his hand held out to escort Meg to the dance floor. With her face a bright red she nodded and looked back at Jane.
“Breathe!” Jane whispered and smiled at her. Meg nodded once more and turned to her partner.
Lord Harrington appeared shortly, and led her to the floor.
“My lord, are you enjoying yourself?”
He smiled as he bowed over her hand. “Of course. After all, how could I say otherwise?”
She smiled. “I can assure you if you prefer to sit this one out and converse instead, I would be amenable to the idea.”
“Nonsense.” Their hands met at a cross. “I have looked forward to dancing with you all evening, Miss Shaw.” She smiled again, but couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Miss Shaw, I trust your headache is much better?”
“My headache?”
“Miss Pratt told me of your headache and resolve not to ride this morning.”
“I see.” Her temper squirming, she frowned then turned as the dance required. Setting her face smooth, she turned back to him, completing the square.
“Mr. Lawrence is under the impression that you left all to chance that day.” She had no need to tell him which day as he glanced over to where Mr. Lawrence was dancing with Miss Fancot, her parent’s frowns reaching for the floor.
“I did nothing of the sort.” His face was as smooth as hers, his emotions at bay, just under his skin. She looked away from his gaze, her questions multiplying, and it was some time before she could look up and meet his casual conversation with satisfactory answers.
***
“WELL, MISS JANE? AND how was it this evening?”
“Oh Sarah, I have always considered dancing to be somewhat tedious, for one is required to spend a period of time with their partner. Tonight, however, I believe I can see the appeal, for a partner whose company you desire can change your entire outlook on the event.” She smiled and gave a soft sigh. Her night gown slipped over her head interrupting her thoughts. She looked at Sarah. “I must confess, I believe I am also beginning to understand the appeal in keeping a diary.”
Sarah laughed as Jane laid down, smiling into her pillow.