0800720903 (R) (16 page)

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Authors: Ruth Axtell

Tags: #1760–1820—Fiction, #FIC027050, #Aristocracy (Social class)—Fiction, #London (England)—Social life and customs—19th century—Fiction, #FIC042030, #Great Britain—History—George III, #FIC042040

BOOK: 0800720903 (R)
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“I don’t think it was so scandalous. I found it ever so graceful.”

Megan pondered this a few minutes, then finally nodded her head slowly. “Very well. I have most of my allowance.”

Jessamine wasn’t sure whether Megan agreed only to placate her and take her mind off Rees and Céline’s arrival, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was being able to dance the waltz at her next ball.

“Perhaps Mr. Marfleet will ask you for the waltz.”

Jessamine’s lips turned downward. “I wish you wouldn’t keep bringing up his name as if he were a suitor. If you’re so interested in him, you may waltz with him.”

“Perhaps I may, if he asks me.” Her look sobered once more. “You shall have to face him sometime, you know.”

Jessamine knew she didn’t refer to Mr. Marfleet. She sucked in air. “I know. But I’d rather it be later than sooner.”

Megan nodded. “Perhaps I can call on him and that way prevent his coming here.”

“Nonsense. You live here and you shouldn’t be afraid to have anyone call on you. It’s been over a year. I shall be fine.”

She was kept occupied that afternoon with gentlemen callers whom she’d danced with the evening before. Wearing a gown of moss green that brought out the color in her eyes, her hair dressed in careless curls atop her head, she felt confident that she looked her best.

There was talk of a ball, an assembly, and an excursion to Vaux
hall. She showed the proper enthusiasm for them all. She would keep herself so busy she wouldn’t think of Rees’s return and would likely miss his visit if he did call. By the time she was forced to face him, she’d have a dozen swains following her about, and perhaps Rees would realize what he’d lost.

When she entered the house the next afternoon after a trip to the circulating library, the maid was coming in from the service area at the back of the house. Jessamine took off her hat and arranged her hair in the mirror.

“Oh, miss, there’s a gentleman in the drawing room with Miss Phillips.”

9

J
essamine looked over her shoulder at Betsy, her breath caught. Had Rees come so soon? “Is it someone we know?”

“It’s Miss Phillips’s brother, miss.”

Jessamine drew in a lungful of air, her heart thudding against her chest. The moment had arrived. She moistened her lips, needing to know the worst. “Is anyone with him—his wife?”

“No, miss. He came alone.”

“Thank you, Betsy.”

She finished arranging her hair, glad that the walk had left her cheeks rosy. Her outfit suited her coloring. What was she thinking? She could never compare with that Frenchwoman who had stolen Rees from her—except on one count. Céline Phillips was old, near thirty at least.

Drawing comfort from that fact, Jessamine squared her shoulders and headed up the stairs to the drawing room, feeling as if she were going to face an execution squad.

She could continue on to her room, but that would be the coward’s way. Sooner or later she’d have to see Rees. Better here than in a public place.

She stood a moment in front of the closed door, hearing muffled voices through the panels.

Dear Lord, help me get through
the next few moments. If I can just get through
those, I shall be all right. Thank You.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed it open.

The moment she entered the room, the conversation ceased and she was the focus of all eyes. But she only had eyes for Rees Phillips.

His penetrating gray gaze locked with hers as he stood. “Hello, Jessamine, how nice to see you again.”

Continuing to pray for strength, she walked across the room, extending her hand. “Hello, Rees. Welcome back.”

His larger hand clasped hers warmly and he smiled. Was it relief she saw in his eyes? “Thank you. You are looking well.”

She forced her lips upward, keeping all emotion locked down deep where no one could be aware of her inward turmoil.

Their hold loosened, and she stepped back a pace. “As are you,” she said. He was indeed, appearing more elegant than she’d ever seen him, in a dark blue, well-cut coat of superfine with brass buttons; a crisp white cravat with just the right number of folds under his chin; a silk waistcoat of a silvery gray that matched his eyes; and close-fitting, fawn-colored pantaloons tucked into top boots.

“Thank you.” His lips tilted up on one side in that familiar way that made her traitorous heart lurch with longing. “I must say you are looking very elegant. Full of town bronze, the both of you.” He turned toward Megan. “I’d hardly recognize you if I met you on the street.”

Megan laughed. “Perhaps to your inexpert eyes, Rees, but we are still but country bumpkins here in London.”

“Nonsense,” Lady Bess, who had sat quiet until now, said from her place behind the tea service. “I’m so glad you have returned from your errand, my dear, in time for Mr. Phillips’s call. Why don’t you ring for some fresh tea and you can catch up with your old neighbor. I’m sure there is much news to exchange.”

Jessamine did as she was bid, glad for an excuse to turn away from Rees. It had been worse than she’d thought—though she was
glad the first moments were over. She had faced him and not given way to her emotions. But it had cost her. Oh, to see him so close and still want him as desperately as she had a year ago—two years ago. Nothing had changed. If anything, he seemed more attractive than ever. It was more than his fashionable clothes, although those certainly added to his allure. He had never worn a watch fob before, she noted. The old Rees would have considered it a bit of frippery reserved for dandies. Had his wife perhaps given it to him? Bitterness cast its shadow over her thoughts.

It was more than clothes and haircut. He had an air of contentment and confidence that he’d lacked before. He’d always been so serious, as if bowed under the weight of responsibilities toward his family and ambitions for himself. Now he seemed more relaxed and at ease with himself. He laughed and smiled more readily.

Jessamine turned away from the embroidered satin bellpull and took her seat, in an armchair neither too far nor too close to Rees, to show him and Megan—and herself—that she was indifferent to his presence and treating him like any guest in Lady Bess’s drawing room.

Rees retook his seat beside Megan on the sofa. “I find it hard to believe the two of you haven’t turned a lot of heads since you came to London.”

Megan rolled her eyes. “I am beginning to conclude that with a few exceptions, London gentlemen are either already married, fops and dandies, or merely hanging out for a wife with a sizable dowry.”

Rees shook his head. “I do hope you exaggerate.”

“Of course she exaggerates,” Lady Bess said stoutly. “They have met some fine gentlemen. Things started a bit slowly, but that is understandable, since I myself no longer go out in society the way I used to.” She fluffed up the lacy fichu at her neckline. “I was quite a renowned beauty once, though you’ll find that hard to believe now, I’m sure.”

“Not at all. My mother and I are very grateful to you for taking
our Megan under your wing.” He glanced at Jessamine then away. “You had no obligation to include her in your kind invitation to your goddaughter.”

“Nonsense.” Lady Bess waved a hand at him. “It has been my pleasure to introduce both young ladies into society. Such pleasant girls. They have made me feel young again. And they have had quite an amusing time lately, whatever your sister will have you believe.” She smiled indulgently at Jessamine. “We’ve had a string of gentlemen callers since the ball the other night at Lady Fortescue’s. Jessamine was quite a hit in her new gown and hairstyle—and, of course, Megan looked delightful as always.”

Jessamine could not control the blush creeping up her cheeks as Rees’s assessing gaze turned once more to her. “I am not surprised.”

“Lady Bess grossly overstates it.” Jessamine fiddled with one of the buttons on her cuff as she recalled how sick she’d been at the ball.

As if sensing her discomfiture, which only proved how discerning he was to her moods, Rees turned back to Megan. “What else have you two been up to since arriving in London? Besides dancing till dawn?” he teased.

“Lots of things. Since we knew no one but Lady Bess, we went sightseeing together, taking along the travel guide.” She began describing some of their outings, her hands gesturing and her eyes shining as she described the places they’d visited.

Jessamine was thankful for Megan’s enthusiasm. It saved her from having to speak, except for filling in a detail or an impression here or there so neither would suspect what she was suffering inside. Nothing would appear unusual to Rees, since he was used to his sister’s more boisterous nature and Jessamine’s quieter one.

It could almost be old times, she thought sadly. His wife’s name had not even been mentioned.

The maidservant brought in a fresh pot of tea, and Jessamine busied herself with her cup. When she sat back, she was able to
observe Rees over the rim of her cup without appearing obvious about it, since both Megan and he were facing each other.

He looked handsomer than ever. His dark, almost black, hair was brushed back off his square forehead, yet it didn’t hide the distinct wave. His strong jawline was neatly shaved, though his sideburns were longer than she remembered.

His gray eyes glanced her way now and again, and she forced herself not to look away but smiled slightly before shifting her gaze to Megan, as if she were giving them both equal attention.

But as Megan’s voice died down, Rees leaned forward, allowing Lady Bess to pour him a fresh cup of tea. “I’m sorry I won’t be in London long, so I shan’t be able to escort you many places. Things are very uncertain in Belgium right now.”

Lady Bess’s lacy cap trembled. “Will there be war?”

He shook his head. “There is no telling what Napoleon will do, especially if he thinks himself surrounded by his enemies. He is not the type to sit idle if he feels his borders are threatened.”

Megan sighed. “I wish you didn’t have to go back to Brussels so soon.”

“I really shouldn’t have come, but I wanted to bring Céline away, no matter how remote any danger.”

It was the first mention of his wife, and Jessamine thought she detected a slight hesitation before he said her name. He hadn’t glanced at her. Throughout his conversation, he had maintained a balanced focus among the three of them. Neutral, she would describe it, like a good diplomat. No wonder he had advanced in that field. Had all feelings he’d once had for her disappeared? It would appear so if she went by his demeanor and tone of voice.

“I hope the trip across the channel didn’t tire her out too much,” Lady Bess said as soon as he mentioned his wife. “Poor thing.”

“She is fine, thank you, ma’am, and resting today.”

“I . . . I would like to meet her,” Megan said, stumbling only slightly, her gaze flitting to Jessamine and away again.

“Yes, she is eager to meet you too.” He glanced at each one of them without pausing on Jessamine. “In fact, she would like to do anything to help introduce you into society—while she is still able to go about.” A flush crept along his jawline at mention of his wife’s condition. “She has been out of London for almost two years now, but her connections are very good, especially since she has been very active both in Vienna and more recently in Brussels among the cream of society.”

“I’m sure she has. She was most admired here in London.” Lady Bess clucked her tongue. “We were all so surprised when she left for France so suddenly, but thankfully, the war was almost over. Rumor had it she hastened to the side of a relative.”

His look shuttered as he stared down at his teacup. “Yes, she found herself forced to return to France.” Then he seemed to recover and addressed Lady Bess directly once more. “I was able to locate her when I was sent to Paris after the peace to work with Wellington. Céline has proved a fine asset to the British diplomatic efforts since we’ve been together.”

“I think it’s so exciting.” Megan clapped her hands together, ending any awkwardness in the atmosphere.

“You have always wanted to be in the diplomatic service,” Megan continued. “And after so many years working in the Foreign Office here in London, your dream has finally come true—and the Lord has blessed you with a true helpmate at your side.” She sighed as if it had all been divinely orchestrated.

“Yes, I am a blessed man. I could hardly have imagined how my life would change.” He looked at Lady Bess again. “But that’s enough about me. I’m sure despite living a more retired life, ma’am, you have still been able to introduce your two charges into society.”

Lady Bess batted her eyelashes, as if she, too, were falling under Rees’s quiet charm. “I am not completely forgotten in society, it is true. But the real credit of the invitations that have begun to grace our mantel comes thanks to the girls themselves.”

“Though if it hadn’t been for Lady Marfleet, we’d still be waiting to receive our first invitation,” Megan said with an arch look at Jessamine.

“Lady Marfleet?”

“She is quite a leader in society. I’m sure your wife is acquainted with her,” Lady Bess explained.

As he nodded, Megan added with an impish look in her direction, “The credit for her attention belongs solely to Jess, who made quite an impression on her younger son, Lancelot Marfleet, at a rout we attended not long ago.”

Jessamine’s first impulse was to deny any such attraction on Mr. Marfleet’s part. But pride came to her aid. Let Rees think a leading member of the ton was courting her. It would not make up for hearing about his wife and what a blessing she was to him, but it would help ease the pain of this first meeting. “Once again, Megan is given to hyperbole,” she murmured, looking modestly at her lap.

“Not in this case,” Megan asserted. “He is a most attentive, eligible gentleman. Best of all, he is a vicar! He has even been to India as a missionary. What better suitor for our Jessamine?”

Rees lifted a black brow. “I am indeed impressed. I knew there was someone special for you.”

For an instant Jessamine’s gaze clung to his as she felt the knife thrust anew at his words. She forced herself to look away, even as her breast seethed with resentful anger. How convenient for him to think she had already fallen in love with someone else, so he could wash his hands of all responsibility for breaking her heart!

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