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JANE AWOKE AND SAT up listening for what could have disturbed her sleep, but not a sound was heard. She walked over to the windowsill and looked out at the cool balmy night and realized she was entirely awake. On impulse, she found her walking dress of pale yellow muslin and pulled it on. Grabbing a shawl, she quietly opened her door and made her way softly to the library. At the desk, she wrote a reply to her friend and put it in the box.
Still much more awake than she ought to be, Jane perused the books, her fingers snagging the one on native American plants. She read for a while until the clock in the hallway chimed and she counted to seven. Surprised, she turned toward the window and pulled back the draperies to see plenty of early morning light filter in. Blowing out her candle, she left, deciding an early morning walk was called for.
Jane walked past the gardens, the hedges, even past the woods, at quite a pace despite the dew gathering on her skirt. She slowed as she heard voices and rounded a small copse of trees to see Lord Petersham and Miss Makon standing arm in arm looking toward the lake. She turned around to give them some privacy, when she realized Mr. McInnes was striding towards Lady Margaret. Caught between two intrigues and horrified at the predicament, she positioned herself between a small cluster of trees in hopes of being invisible and possibly deaf.
“William.” Lady Margaret’s warm greeting reached her unfortunately working ears and she blushed and turned to her gaze toward Lord Petersham and Mary. Her head was on his shoulder now, with his arm comfortably situated around hers. Feeling caught, she turned her gaze back to Meg.
Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as Mr. McInnes pulled her close, kissed her quite soundly, keeping her there in his arms. Jane hmphed and rolled her eyes, deciding the bark was really more than capable of maintaining her interest. And anyway, what could they all be doing rising at seven o’clock in the morning?!
It was a flustered Jane that finally was able to sneak back to Holcombe, hoping for a cup of tea to settle her stomach. This business of matchmaking felt overwhelming, and at the moment, a little depressing.
***
ONLY A SHORT WHILE later, Jane pushed a branch aside as she walked between the trees. She had decided to go for a walk at eight as planned, with the hope that Lord Harrington’s interest was a subtle hint that he would join her. However, she quickly realized he would probably be unable to find her, if that was indeed his plan, for the grove was extensive and no particular spot specified.
Grumpy with that conclusion, she had chosen the harder route which had resulted in scratches on her hands despite her gloves. She removed the useless things and shoved them into her reticule, frustration creasing her forehead. Eventually, she started toward an easier path and as she continued, felt herself calm down. After all, she must be realistic and the sooner she faced that the better.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a snort, and she looked to see Mermaid shaking his head; Lord Harrington holding the reins.
“Good morning, Miss Shaw.” Lord Harrington’s whole face seemed to be absorbing her. Her skin immediately reacted and she looked at the ground.
“Good morning, my lord.”
“Perfect day for a walk, I think.”
“Oh, most certainly, my lord.”
“I know an excellent spot if you would care to make your way there with me.”
“I should like that.” She looked up again to find him just in front of her. With a smile, he turned and together they merged toward his Most Excellent Spot.
“I have thought of a solution to your fear of performing on the piano.”
Jane stumbled, “I beg your pardon?”
Lord Harrington took hold of her elbow. “You see, I had thought, perhaps, if you learned a duet it would not seem so overwhelming as there are two players. And really, if you took the secondo then you would be blocked by your partner, and most of our audience would observe only me.”
Jane stopped and turned to look at him. “Lord Harrington, that is brilliant!” She paused, remembering, “I’m afraid, however, that I do not know any duets.”
His smile grew wider. “Just wait, Miss Shaw, for my genius is not at an end. You see, I am the owner of a few duets and if we were to practice I am sure we could be ready very soon.”
“Thank you. That is very kind of you.”
“And you believe you would not feel so nervous?”
“I believe with a friend at my side I would feel much more confident.”
“Ah.” His hand brushed hers; sparks numbed her fingers.
It was a little while later that they watched Miss Pratt ride by, Clover in hand, while Sir Reginald gamely kept up. At the reminder, she turned to ask, “Did you and your brother wager on Miss Pratt?” Her tone was accusatory; his look sheepish.
“I confess we did, Miss Shaw, although I assure you it was nothing that would hurt anyone.” He glanced over at her, her eyes focused straight ahead with nothing to say. “Miss Shaw, are you upset?”
She stopped and faced him. “I cannot think it right to wager on a young lady regardless of the situation.”
He frowned. “Are you angry with me?”
She sighed. “No, of course not.”
He blew out a breath and they began to walk again. “You are right, of course. I suppose it is habit by now.” He ran his hand through his hair. “In any case it was mostly an excuse for George to get what he wants. You see, he’s attempting to convince Miss Makon to marry him.”
Jane waved it away. “But if I overheard correctly, you would have given him permission anyways.”
“Eavesdropping, Miss Shaw?” His smirk made her pink.
“I was...I could not help but overhear.”
“I’m teasing you to make myself more comfortable. I am not used to being given a set down.”
“I would never take the liberty of doing so, my lord.” Her tone was very correct and he stopped her once more, his hand on her arm.
“We are friends, Miss Shaw. There are no liberties.”
Her smile was careful and soon they were talking of other things. They ended their course near the house, where he left her with a promise to practice their duet soon.
***
DEAR FRIEND,
Thank you for your kind words. Your compliment put a smile on my face much longer than it should have.
I confess that I believe you to be Mr. Lawrence. I hesitate to tell you lest this end our friendship such as it is, and yet I find myself eager to know the truth.
Jane
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LADY MARGARET BUBBLED over as she greeted a yawning Jane. She took a sip of tea as she listened to Meg explain at a rapid pace.
“And of course, Jane, when he kisses me, I fairly float out of my skin, which must be a good sign, mustn’t it? He says we cannot possibly marry right away for I am much too young, but I am sure I can convince him, and anyway, if he has already got Charlie’s permission then who’s to stop us?” Meg attempted unsuccessfully to whisper.
“My dear Meg, I am sure he is only thinking of you. After all, you may come to regret never having a season before settling down.” Jane was thinking practically, given her state of mind, and Meg frowned.
“That is not the kind of support a friend gives, Jane. You should be planning my trousseau with me and telling me how I will be the making of him, although you know George says he’ll be the making of me or at least he is sure William will shorten my sentences whatever that means.”
“I only expressed my opinion that having a season would be the sort of...finish you need before becoming married.” Jane hid a yawn with a bite of scone.
“Oh Jane, how practical you are, only don’t say any such thing to William for I am sure it would be just the argument he needs to convince – Mr. Lawrence! Do come sit here.” Meg’s happiness overflowing, she gestured to the seat next to Jane in an attempt to share.
“Jane, I come bearing a letter.” At that she looked up at him – was this it? Here, in the breakfast room? Was he her ‘dear friend’? He passed her the letter which had an address and postage scrawled across the top. She let out a breath.
“Thank you, Mr. Lawrence.” He smiled back.
“Perhaps you would be free later for a walk in the gardens?”
“I...yes, of course.” Her walks were becoming prolific; she needed to add something a bit more sedate to her list of interests.
“This afternoon looks to be very pleasant. Perhaps we may even brave the maze once more?”
“I should like that very much.”
His look was warm as he bowed over her hand. “Excellent. I will meet you at one o’clock, if that is agreeable?”
“Of course.”
They parted, and since Meg was entirely distracted by Miss Stanley’s description of her ball gown, Jane opened and read her letter in relative privacy. It was from her uncle’s solicitor and as she lowered it to her lap, she realized she needed to interrupt Lord Harrington in his study. Biting her lip, she looked outside, wishing she could tell her heart to shut up.
***
A KNOCK SOUNDED AND Lord Harrington called, “Come in.”
“My lord?” Jane walked in, a piece of paper in her hand. His face flushed. “Ja – Miss Shaw.” He shoved a piece of paper under some other correspondence and stood, hands behind his back.
Her hands creased the letter she held. “I have received word about the previous steward of Prennage.”
He stayed standing out of courtesy, gesturing to a chair. “That is excellent, thank you.”
She ignored the offer of a seat. “If you’d like, I can write Mr. Davis and request the meeting. Otherwise, his direction is here in the letter if you prefer to do it yourself.” She held out the letter toward him and he rounded the desk to take it from her. Their hands brushed and he smiled. She stepped back, her face brighter.
“Thank you. I think it would be best to write him myself.”
“Of course.” She turned to go, and had just reached the door when he spoke.
“Wait.” She half turned to look at him and he found himself at a loss.
“Would you care for another round of chess?”
“Chess?” She couldn’t help it, a smile was creeping up.
“I could order a tea sent to the library if you should like to join me. I am hoping to retrieve my dignity this time.”
Her eyes crinkled with her smile. “I should like that very much.”
“Excellent. I look forward to it.” His gaze was intense, his smile making her much too warm, and she turned once more to leave, running into Simmons in the process.
“Oh, I beg your pardon Simmons.”
As any good butler would, he merely bowed to the lady and kept his very interesting conclusions to himself.
***
JANE WAS CASUALLY WANDERING through the gardens awaiting the arrival of Mr. Lawrence, when she came upon Miss Pratt standing directly in her way. As she contemplated this intervention, she took a sigh and stopped.
“Miss Pratt. It’s a lovely day, is it not?” Her words felt hollow.
“Mmm.” Miss Pratt stepped to the side and linked her arms with Jane’s. “I think we should enjoy a walk together, Miss Shaw.”
And as Jane had nothing to say to that, they continued in silence for some moments.
“I did not see you at breakfast, Miss Shaw. Were you out enjoying a ride?” Jane relaxed as she began to understand the purpose of this confrontation.
“No, Miss Pratt. I had a lengthy walk this morning and enjoyed breakfast a little later.”
“I see. And yet, I’ve hardly seen you all day. Where is it you hide?”
“I do not seek to avoid company, I assure you.”
“Oh, no of course not.” Cynthia’s look was as false as Jane’s.
“Sometimes, however, I do enjoy reading in the library.”
Miss Pratt’s eyes gleamed. “The library. I had not thought...what an excellent place for some....privacy.”
She said not another word, and as Jane had nothing more to add, nothing more was said as they continued toward the hedges. Still in silence, they passed a gardener trimming the branches, while Jane tried to think of an excuse to leave or a topic of conversation; whichever came first.
“Is that...?” Miss Pratt’s query made Jane look up.
They had exited the higher hedges and could see over towards the entrance of the maze where Lady Margaret and Mr. McInnes stood. The pair immediately went inside, turning to the left.
“I think that was Lady Margaret. She must be flirting with...oh, was that Mr. McInnes do you think?” Miss Pratt fell into a comfortable gossip.
Jane attempted to steer her away, unsure of how public the knowledge of their engagement was. “I couldn’t be sure, for they are farther away.”
Miss Pratt squeezed her arm. “Oh do let’s go follow them, for I’m dying to know if there’s an intrigue there.”
Jane stopped, halting Miss Pratt as a consequence. “Oh, I could not do that, Miss Pratt. That would be eavesdropping and forming slander of the worst kind, and I could not participate.”
Miss Pratt’s features fell into a scowl and she paused before she tried again. “We are merely following to make sure her reputation remains unsoiled. After all, our presence would ensure nothing untoward happened to her.”
Jane let out her first genuine smile of the afternoon. “I am quite sure Lady Margaret would never allow anything of the kind.”
Miss Pratt removed her arm and looked at her. “I think, Miss Shaw, that your education has been somewhat lacking, for I assure you my intentions were entirely toward the keeping of Lady Margaret’s reputation.” And with a short nod, she turned and left, leaving Jane in amused silence.
She had decided to walk a little farther knowing Mr. Lawrence would easily find her, when she heard voices. She had made her way just past the maze, but now looked back and realized there was a small exit, possibly for maintenance, and now she had a remarkably close view of it. She watched as Lady Margaret and Mr. McInnes exited, walking sedately in tandem. As they continued forward, he reached over and grabbed her hand, pulling it through his arm while resting his other hand on top. Jane backed up, her intention to give them some privacy, when she realized she had run into someone. She turned and found herself facing Mr. Lawrence.
“Oh! Mr. Lawrence, you startled me!”
“I beg your pardon. It was unintentional, I assure you.” He looked at her, then looked past where the couple was now beyond hearing. He looked back at Jane questioningly.
Jane hurried to explain. “I was not eavesdropping. I assure you I came across them quite by accident and have not heard one word of conversation between them.” She swallowed the sour mix of truth and justification.
“I would never have assumed as much of you.” He gestured toward the opposite direction and the gazebo which lurked in the distance. “I was wondering how your reading of the report is coming along.”
Jane, surprised at his compliment and complete lack of curiosity automatically turned and began walking arm in arm with Mr. Lawrence as they contemplated the wilds of the Americas. His face was animated as he spoke of possibilities. She watched him, helplessly smiling at his energy and determination. Here was a man who would not only do things with his life, but would have her by his side while he did them. The thought was exhilarating and sobering at the same time.
It was only as they reached the orangery that he stopped, pulling her hands with his to stand out of view of the house. Startled, she looked up at his earnest face, their conversation halted.
“Jane.” It was the hungry way he said her name, and she knew her time was up. “I would ask you to be my wife.”
That simple sentence rushed through her, leaving her speechless. This man would love her and keep her by his side through anything, she knew this. She looked over his pale face, his reasonably straight nose, his eyes that were a little too intense, his thin mouth, now slightly parted in anticipation of her answer. He said nothing, though, waiting with a patience that made her smile – she appreciated that he knew her this well.
“May we sit for a moment?” He nodded, pulling her hand through his arm once more and leading her into the orangery.
“I haven’t been in here yet. What a lovely place.” The orange trees were fragrant; the greenhouse warm, and they made their way to a bench where they sat side by side.
Mr. Lawrence eyed the trees, but said nothing, turning back to hear Jane’s response.
“I think nothing but well of you, Mr. Lawrence, and so I must tell you that despite our improved acquaintance, I feel...as a friend towards you.” She waited, hoping he understood her double reference to the letters.
He looked down as he removed his hand from hers. “I am to understand you are refusing?”
She took a bracing breath and met his gaze. “I wanted to be entirely honest with you. I cannot allow you to continue on when I do not feel the same.” Her stomach sank a little, but she said nothing to take it back.
“Jane, I realize a few days are not enough to invoke passionate love.” Here he resumed holding her hand. “You see, I am leaving Saturday morning. I have many demands on my time, and my work is...” He shook his head returning to the topic at hand. “I find, however, the more time I am in your company, the greater the attachment I feel towards you. In fact, I confess I do love you very much. It is my greatest wish that you will someday return that love.”
She sighed, knowing what she must say. “I did not know you were leaving so soon.” She paused, carefully wording her next sentence. “Perhaps a compromise. I come of age in three months. At that time, if you feel the same and I feel,” Here she blushed, her voice growing lower, “the same, then we can plan our future together.” She was nearly whispering now, but Mr. Lawrence grinned, pulling her close, quick to agree.
She left him shortly after that, her heart beating the word ‘traitor’ each time she breathed. And yet, she felt oddly relieved by what the future promised.
***
JANE’S STOMACH WAS grumbling in a most unladylike fashion as she adjusted her hair and straightened her dress before slipping out of her room. She made her way towards the library, her smile growing as her appetite anticipated the tea awaiting her. She met Simmons coming out of the library, who bowed and gave her a curious look. Entering, she weaved through the shelves and stacks and desks to find the table set up with chess near the window and on an adjoining table an excellent tea set with raspberry tarts. She smiled and looked up into the face of Cynthia Pratt.
Jane’s voice wouldn’t work.
Miss Pratt’s greeting dripped with malice. “My dear Jane, how lovely to see you. Won’t you join us for tea?”
Lord Harrington had risen to his feet, but all Jane could see was Miss Pratt and the smug look that had settled on her face.
“Do join us, Miss Shaw, there are raspberry tarts, you see.” He smiled, but none of this could push away the ringing in her ears.
“I...beg your pardon, but I do not want to interrupt your tea.” She turned to go, the bitter taste of disappointment on her tongue.
“Miss Shaw, I had hoped you would join me – us, for tea and of course the game of chess we had discussed earlier.”
Jane didn’t turn around. She was very sure that his look was one of compassion, perhaps even entreaty, and that Miss Pratt’s was one of genuine triumph. She waited a moment – she must be very careful how she responded, for she abhorred the thought that he might pity her. She closed her eyes for a moment then turned to look at them with much more courage than she’d thought herself capable of.
Her smile was short. “I beg your pardon, my lord, but I find I have some correspondence to finish and cannot satisfy you. However, Miss Pratt is so very skilled at chess I am certain she will give you a good game.” She faced Miss Pratt. “Good afternoon, Miss Pratt. I hope you win any wagers.” And with that, she fled.
***
JANE SAID GOODNIGHT to Lady Margaret that evening, her emotions at battle as she looked between Lord Harrington and Mr. Lawrence; her head frustrated with her heart. Mr. Lawrence’s offer was frankly better than she had ever anticipated she would receive, and she knew she should be grateful, but she could not so easily set aside her growing attachment to Lord Harrington, who even now was in conversation with Miss Pratt and Miss Annabelle. Her confusion matched her frustration, for she knew he preferred her company, and yet her silly stupid pride had made her leave when confronted.
Setting aside her self-admonishments, she said her goodnights to Lady Harrington, knowing very well that even if he did not prefer Miss Pratt, this woman was the true commander of the situation.
Instead of stomping up the stairs, she made her way to the library; surely a letter from her friend would see her to a better mood.
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JANE,
I have set aside a pile of reading material I think may interest you should you finish with the report. It is situated on the little desk in the library for you to peruse at your convenience.
Meanwhile, I believe I should remind you that Lord Harrington’s preferences seem markedly different from what gossip may dictate. I assume someone of your observational skills would have noticed this, but your actions would indicate otherwise.
I will not allow you to know my identity as of yet, and apologize for my blatant curiosity and only hope you will forgive,
Your friend
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JANE LAID AWAKE ENTIRELY distracted by the letter. Mr. Lawrence had not said anything in reference to the letters, and she now wondered if she was mistaken in her suppositions. Mentally reviewing each male guest, she one by one dismissed them as possibilities. Confused and emotionally frustrated, she fell into a choppy night sleep until finally she rose much too early, losing her thoughts in the stack of books situated on the little desk.