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  To this, Wesley said nothing and merely nodded his head in reply. As he closed the study door, his mind was heavy with images of the past that Blanchard’s words brought back to life, and so he was surprised to hear a soft voice at his side.

  “Good heavens, are marriage contracts such serious things? That frown could coddle cream.”

  Rachel’s cheerful tease as she strode toward him brought on an immediate smile. “No, indeed. I had something else on my mind.”

  “And does my father wear a similar frown?”

  “No, I believe he is in good spirits.”

  “Well, that is not likely to last long.”

  Wesley narrowed his eyes. “What are you up to?”

  Rachel smiled. “I have found the perfect companion and have taken the liberty of hiring her.”

  “And why will that cause your father to lose his good mood?”

  “Because she is the rudest, most opinionated, old blue stocking I have ever met. They are all sure to hate her.”

  “Why would you want that?”

  Rachel sighed. “I have been trying to convince my father to allow me to live with my Aunt Isobel. She is ancient and in need of company. Moving to her home would be the closest I could come to living on my own. I figure if I am just annoying enough he will want to be rid of me.”

  “Rachel,” Wesley’s voice lowered, laced with concern. “I wish you would be more careful and not incite his anger. Like my father, he is unaccustomed to insubordination and will only be pushed so far before he pushes back harder.”

  “I am accustomed to my father’s angry rants against me. If I act out of fear, I will never be free.”

  “I fear your bravery.”

  “It is more obstinacy than bravery.”

  “Whatever its name, you have too much of it.” He placed his hand high on her arm, just above where her shawl had slipped down. “Please be careful.”

  Rachel’s only response was to shiver slightly as she met his gaze. When his thumb gently stroked her skin, she shivered harder.

  “You are cold.” Wesley adjusted her shawl around her shoulders. “Ice is hanging from the eaves outside, and you are draped in thin muslin. You should take better care.”

  Rachel smiled. “It is a bit early to act brotherly. You are in no position to chastise me yet.”

  “We are old friends. We have danced together at every ball and party for the last six years, been frequent card and charade partners, taken numerous walks, and have shared more words between us than we could ever count. I believe I have earned the right to be concerned about your welfare.”

  “Perhaps, but you will still not talk me out of my muslin.”

  It was Wesley’s turn to shiver as his mind denied any reaction to that statement.

  “I may be a harridan, but I will look pretty while causing my disturbances.”

  Wesley laughed. “You are far beyond just pretty, and I fear your cleverness will get you in far more trouble than I can get you out of. I did promise to look after you.”

  Just like that, old ghosts returned, sending the sweet blush that had decorated her cheeks during their banter retreating, to be replaced by a paleness better suited to a languishing lover. Wesley felt the loss immediately.

  “Shall I take you to Kathleen?”

  “No, I am afraid I will not be good company for her this morning. Your mother invited me to dinner this evening. I assume you will introduce your new companion, then?”

  Rachel lifted her eyebrows and smiled.

  Wesley sighed as he bowed. “I will try to be of some use and keep you from turning the house on its ear.”

  Rachel laughed and gave a slight bow of her head. “Thank you, dear almost brother.”

  Wesley took one last look at her and then shook his head as he walked away, wondering if there was one house in London he could enter that morning and not leave feeling bruised.

  Chapter 5

  “Well, Janie, it looks as though the remainder of your betrothal will be spent in peace. I suppose you have heard I am taking your mother home today.”

  Before Jane could answer, a commotion was heard above stairs, quickly followed by Mrs. Dawson’s shrill voice shouting orders to her maid.

  “I should not have brought her here. I could have handled all the business with Lord Litchfield alone, but she would be seen.”

  “She so rarely has the opportunity to come to town.”

  He looked at her indulgently and a little wistfully. For a moment, Jane saw the man she remembered from her childhood—the one who indulged her inquisitiveness, taught her to ride, and spent the evenings reading aloud so she would not grow overly frustrated by her poor attempts at sewing. That man had been gone for years, but just the glimmer of that former life made Jane want to beg him to stay.

  “You are a good girl, Jane. You have brought your mother much happiness with this engagement. I do not think she has ever before been so pleased with the idea of marriage.”

  “Papa.”

  Mr. Dawson sighed and took Jane’s hand. “I worry about leaving you here alone, Jane, with just Amy as comfort and support. As strong as her mind is, she still looks to you as her guide. She would not be much use if your uncle tries to sway you from your decision.”

  “Sir?”

  “Your uncle has some definite opinions about Lord Litchfield and your betrothal. Your mother has not been this happy since…well, not in a long time. And I know with your disposition you can be content in any situation. You will do well to remember your promises even when others might not see them as good things.”

  “Yes, Papa. You need not worry.”

  The two made their way to the front room where Amy and the Carringtons were waiting to say their goodbyes. Before long, Mrs. Dawson could be heard on the stairs. Although when she entered the room, she was uncharacteristically silent. Jane watched as her mother leveled a cool glare on her aunt and uncle before walking to her and pulling her into a tight embrace.

  “Oh, Jane! I have been waiting for you to be married for so long, and now I must leave you alone to prepare. It is bad enough you will not marry from your home county, but now I cannot even help you with your wedding clothes!”

  Jane struggled to remove herself from her mother’s grasp. The strength of it, along with the lingering scent of Mrs. Dawson’s morning tonic, made her light headed.

  “Mama,” Jane managed once she finally broke free. “I am hardly alone. I have Amy and Aunt to help.”

  “Humph. They are not your mother. If your aunt and uncle want to be of help, they would not be throwing me from their home as if I were some ruffian.”

  “Do not be silly, dear sister. If you were just some ruffian, you would be entitled to far more consideration.”

  A collective gasp filled the room as everyone in it was shocked to hear such words coming not from Mr. Carrington, whose anger at the situation was well known, but from his wife.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You heard me, and need I remind you that you showed far less consideration for me when I was thrown from your home while I was increasing.”

  “Well you increased so often, my dear, that we no longer had room.”

  “All right, ladies, that is enough. Dawson, I believe your horses grow restless.”

  Mr. Dawson just sighed, donned his hat, and led his indignant wife to the door. No one left behind felt the need to say any more goodbyes or hide their relief when the heard the firm click of the door.

  “Oh, that woman. Must everything in the world be about her?” Mrs. Carrington was angry, but her tone and temper immediately changed when she saw the distressed look on her nieces’ faces. “My dears, please forgive me. I should not speak so of your mother.”

  Amy shrugged a shoulder. “You said nothing we do not think at least a dozen times a day, Aunt.”

  “Amy,” Jane admonished. “Thoughts and words should not always coincide with each other. Papa reminded me this morning of Mama’s hardships. I should have
been more tolerant of her while she was here.” Further remembering her father’s words, Jane lifted her chin. “I thank the two of you most sincerely for allowing me to stay here these next weeks. Preparing for the wedding is made much easier being so close to town. And thank you for loving me enough to be worried about my future. I feel compelled to remind you that no one forced me into this betrothal. I accepted Lord Litchfield as much for my own benefit as for anyone else’s. I love you both, but please try to remember that this was my choice.”

  She turned and left the room with a concerned Amy trailing behind.

  “Her choice! She has been conditioned since she was a child to heed her mother’s every whim and emotion and then feel guilty when the strain of being the only sensible member of the household gets to be too much.”

  Mr. Carrington stepped behind his wife and wrapped her in his arms. “I agree with you, dearest, but Jane is correct. She is of age and has a stubbornness about her that will not easily relent to argument. Yes, she is the most sensible of her family, but she has also been the one who felt the strongest sense of duty and honor. I believe she has you to thank for that.”

  “If I had known the outcome, I would have instead taught her to be as petty and selfish as her mother. No, Jane could not be that. It is not her nature. I still remember her as a child trying so hard to please everyone around her. On the few occasions that she would succeed, she would beam with joy as if she had unearthed some great treasure. If she feels in her heart that this union will bring her family happiness, then there is nothing to say to convince her otherwise.”

  She rested for a moment in her husband’s arms and then a thought occurred to her. “Did my brother allow you to see the marriage settlement?”

  “No, but he did let on that his dear wife would be given a home upon his death and that there had been an exchange at the time Litchfield asked for Jane’s hand.”

  “An exchange? You mean payment? Good God! That beautiful girl has been reduced to chattel. She deserves so much more than this.”

  “She does.” The anger he had attempted to keep under control in order to comfort his wife broke through. “She truly does. Damn them. They know nothing of this man other than he is rich and old.”

  “He is old. Perhaps we should concentrate all our hopes on his early demise.”

  “I have never wished death upon anybody, but for Jane, I shall do exactly that.”

  * * *

  A half an hour later, while Mrs. Carrington sat silently on the sofa wishing death upon her visitor, Jane entertained the earl with quiet conversation. The sound of Amy’s playing wafted in from where she practiced in the next room, calming the nervousness Jane often felt while in the presence of her betrothed enough to bring up the topic she was most anxious to discuss.

  “I have a favor to beg of you, my lord.” The earl seemed surprised but pleased, which gave Jane more courage to continue. “I would ask you, sir, if my sister, Amy, might come and live with us after we are married. Your estate is such a long way from everything I have ever known. It would be a comfort to me to have my sister there.”

  The pleased look quickly disappeared and was replaced by what she at first thought was anger but soon saw it was disappointment.

  “I am surprised you would ask me such a thing, my dear. I thought you and Miss Amy were close.”

  “We are, sir. That is why I want her with me.”

  “Jane, what a selfish little creature you are.” The amusement in his voice confused her as much as his words. “As we have discussed, you will spend most of your time in Kent at Litchfield Manor. Miss Amy is young and unmarried. She should enjoy all the amusements of town when she can. There are no eligible men in our county for her to pursue. She would suffer great ennui in the country with nothing to do while you tend your duties. Again, I must say how surprised I am that you would want such a thing for your sister.”

  Jane blushed in both mortification at his admonishment and at her own selfishness. “I had not thought of it in that way. When I mentioned the idea to Amy, she seemed pleased.”

  “Of course she did. What girl would want to disappoint the sister she loves so. There, there. We shall speak no more of it. In the future, my dear, it would be better for you to discuss it with me before you issue any invitations. We should avoid this type of awkwardness in the future.”

  “Of course.”

  “Now, I have a surprise for you. Two actually. I have arranged for you to see the finest modiste in London this afternoon. It is all arranged. I will even send my carriage for you so you will not be late. It does take so long to get to this part of town.”

  “Thank you, my lord, that is very generous.”

  “You will see that I am actually being quite selfish. I want you outfitted properly, in ways fit for a countess. You will even need a gown for my second surprise. We will attend the theatre in two days’ time.”

  “The theatre! What a brilliant idea. I hope you will have room for two more in your box, Father.”

  Richard and Julian had entered the parlor just moments before, after the maid who answered the door delivered Julian’s card to Mrs. Carrington. The intensity of the conversation had kept Jane and Litchfield from noticing the new additions. Richard did notice, however, the look that crossed Jane’s features when Litchfield said something to her. He had known her for less than a day, and he already recognized when she was being shamefully manipulated.

  Although Richard often forgot his manners when in company, Julian was graceful enough to execute a formal bow and smile at Jane after she rose from her seat and curtsied.

  “Forgive us for intruding, Miss Dawson. My cousin and I were anxious to continue our acquaintance with your family after meeting you last night. Richard is usually better behaved when there are fewer people to offend.”

  Richard smiled broadly and finally remembered to bow. “I suppose I can blame my excitement over hearing the word theatre for this particular lapse in manners. It has been several years since I have had the pleasure of a live performance. Forgive me.”

  An amused smile replaced the frown that Jane had previously worn, and Richard was pleased with the transformation. As they looked at each other, Richard was sure that if they had not had the misfortune of his father’s company, at least one of them would be blushing.

  “That is quite all right, Captain Granville. If you had not spoken first, you would have heard my exclamation over the idea. It has been some time for me as well.” They smiled again as a brief silence fell upon them. “I am afraid I have forgotten my manners as well. May I introduce you to my aunt?”

  Richard nodded and turned to Mrs. Carrington as Jane made introductions. “Captain Granville, Mr. Hale, this is my aunt, Mrs. Mariah Carrington.”

  “I am pleased to meet you, ma’am. You are Mr. Dawson’s sister?”

  “Yes. I am afraid my brother and sister felt they needed to return home this morning.”

  “They still have a young daughter at home, do they not? I am sure she needs their attention.”

  “Indeed. She is but fifteen and still in need of guidance.”

  God help her then. “Is that Miss Amy I hear at the piano?”

  Mrs. Carrington listened for a moment and then smiled. “It sounds as if Amy has given her seat to my daughter. I will go and fetch Amy. I am sure she would like to see you.”

  With Mrs. Carrington’s departure, Richard felt he could ignore his father no longer. “I hope that including myself and Julian in your theatre party does not inconvenience you.”

  Richard was all politeness, knowing that would irritate his father far more than if he had rudely demanded to be included. Julian would call him childish, and perhaps he was, but it was either provoke or be provoked, and if he allowed Litchfield to get the better of him, a physical confrontation was sure to follow.

  “Of course you are welcome. My box is large enough to accommodate us all.”

  “Good.” Then turning to Jane, he added, “I shall look forward to i
t.”

  * * *

  Julian smiled when Amy entered the parlor. She curtsied politely and gave everyone in the room a warm greeting, save him, which made his smile grow. She tucked herself away on a sofa by the windows and scowled when he placed himself next to her.

  “Why would you seat yourself apart from the others, Miss Amy? Was the conservation last night so bothersome that you cannot stand any more of it?”

  “I do not believe I spoke much to your uncle or cousin.”

  Julian chuckled. He knew he was being as childish as Richard, but he did enjoy getting under this girl’s skin. “No, I believe I was the privileged one who was favored with your company for most of dinner.”

  Amy repressed a snort. “I do not believe you enjoyed it at all. You disagreed with everything I said. It was most ungentlemanly.”

  “To disagree with you?”

  “Yes. It is rude for a gentleman to disagree with a lady.”

  “Is that the custom in that little village you are from, to agree with everything a lady says? It must be quite burdensome to always be right.”

  Amy began to say something but closed her mouth in a tight line.

  Julian leaned in and spoke low. “You were going to say you are always right, were you not?”

  She looked at him again, and as the corners of his mouth rose, the straight line her own tried to maintain wavered. “You are quite irksome, sir.”

  She finally showed a full, brilliant smile, and Julian was delighted. “Now who is being rude?”

  “Perhaps, but at least you are not disagreeing with me. You know you are being irksome.”

  “Very well. Shall we call a truce?”

  “Will you apologize for calling me a shrew?”

  “Will you be less shrewish?”

  The quickness in her change of demeanor nearly made Julian dizzy. She went from amused to enraged in the blink of an eye. He thought it best to acquiesce this once.

  “Very well. I apologize most sincerely for implying you were a shrew.”

  “Thank you.” After a long, satisfied minute, she tilted her head. “And I apologize for acting like a shrew.”