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Authors: Bethany Sefchick

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BOOK: At The Stroke Of Midnight
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Jane laughed, feeling something
akin to wonder and excitement bubble up within her.
 
It was the first true laugh she had given in years.
 
It was also not lost on her that Caroline
was watching the scene before her unfold with keen interest.
 
Almost too keen.
 
That meant that it was time to stop, delightful as this had
been.
 
She was on the verge of making a
scene and that would not do at all.

"Fear not, my lord.
 
I shan't bore you with the details of ladies
fripperies.
 
There are other things we
can discuss, however, should you be so inclined.
 
I am well versed in many topics of conversation.
 
On that point, I believe, I am far from a
failure."
 
She was boasting a bit,
but the earl didn't seem to mind.

He eyed her shrewdly, as if sizing
her up.
 
Then, as if he had been arguing
silently with himself, he offered her his arm.
 
"My lady, I know that I ask a great favor and imposition, but would
you do me the honor of taking some air with me on the balcony?
 
I promise I will behave and no improprieties
will occur.
 
You see, there is a
simpering young chit I do not wish to converse with, yet she purses me like a
dog after a bone.
 
I must find a way to
avoid her without making it appear as such.
 
If I were, however, escorting another young lady, that might deter her
for a time."

Jane was about to ask Caroline's
opinion about what was essentially a scandalous opportunity for ruin, but
amazingly, her friend was nowhere to be found.
 
It was as if she had simply vanished where she stood.
 
Jane could not say when, precisely, Caroline
had disappeared, only that she had.
 
Therefore, there was no one to stop her from skirting around the verge
of ruination.
 
Or plunging straight into
it either.

The old Jane would have refused
Covington's request.
 
Even with the
terrace doors open and the likelihood of matrons and other old dragons
wandering about, she was still taking a great risk.
 
If she was seen alone with the earl, she would be ruined, and she
had no illusions that he would offer to marry her.
 
This night was a momentary flirtation and not a prelude to a
courtship.
 
However, would it really be
so bad if she was caught?
 
She was to be
sent from her home anyway.
 
Should she
not have at least one moment of pleasure beforehand?

"I would be honored, my
lord," she said finally, and took his proffered arm after only a moment's
hesitation.
 
"I believe I could use
a bit of cooling off and the air is refreshing this evening."

If anyone thought it odd that the
Earl of Covington was escorting Lady Jane Ashford through the mad crush of the
ballroom, no one remarked upon it and they soon found themselves out on the
terrace where she was able to draw in deep breaths of cool night air.
 
Out of doors, she felt more like
herself.
 
More like the Jane she was at
heart, even though she was on the arm of a handsome man and acting every bit
the debutante she no longer was.

Behind them, the lights from the
ballroom spilled onto the stonework and beyond, bathing the area directly
around them with a soft glow.
 
In the
half-light, she could see the earl studying her, as if she were some sort of
fascinating creature but she dismissed it as her eyes playing tricks on
her.
 
Instead, she marveled that they
were alone.
 
She had expected that the
terrace would be full of people taking in the night air, but instead, it was
empty.
 

They stood silently for a few
moments, and she could see that he was working to center himself, as if a great
debate was raging inside of him.
 
Finally, he seemed to come to some sort of decision.
 
Then they began to walk.
 
At first it was only as far as the
balustrade, but then he moved to the steps that led to a second level of the
terrace that was dotted with a few benches and odd statuary that Angeline
insisted was great art.

The Earl of Covington moved with a
fluid grace that was nothing short of magic, and Jane secretly loved watching
him move.
 
She had never paid much
attention to the way a man walked before, but with the earl?
 
It was difficult not to.
 
All eyes seemed drawn to him, or they would
have been had there been more than just her about.
 
He was fascinating.
 
To
Jane anyway.
 
And she had no idea why he
was with her.
 
Or why he wanted to be,
for that matter.

For the first time all evening,
Jane did not think of the days that were to come, of being banished from her
home, of wondering where everything had gone so horribly wrong.
 
She didn't think of her growing irritation
with both Lizzie and Angeline and the hurt her father inflicted upon her each
time he chose his new family over his old.
 
Instead, she was relaxed, enjoying the company of this man who, until a
few minutes ago, had been a stranger to her.

Yet he did not feel like a
stranger.
 
Here in the garden with the
scent of roses and other flowers teasing her nose, it felt as if she had known
him forever.
 
As if even now, they were
communicating without words.
 
It was
silly, she knew, but that was how it felt.
 
As if her soul had finally found a place to rest after seeking a sense
of peace for longer than she cared to remember.
 
So when Covington led Jane down the steps and deeper into the
garden, she didn't protest.

She should.
 
She knew that very well.
 
Proper young ladies who did not wish to be
ruined did not take walks in dark gardens with unfamiliar men they had just
met.
 
Those very men might be rakes or
wastrels or worse.
 
Yet she was doing
just that.
 
And she also did not think
that Lord Covington was any of those things.
 
She could not say why.
 
It was
merely a feeling, but a strong one and for once, she decided to trust her
instincts.

"Feeling better, my
lord?" Jane asked when he led them to a small stone bench and helped her
sit, allowing her to arrange her skirts before sinking down beside her.

"Sebastian.
 
My name is just Sebastian.
 
My father was Lord Covington."
 
He smiled again as he sat beside her, this
time a true smile that lit his eyes and made him that much more
attractive.
 
As if he needed any more
help in that regard.
 
Her heart speeded
up before she could even knew what she was about.
 
"And yes, I am better.
 
Thank you.
 
Society is often
times a chore for me, and it is rare that I find someone like you who
understands that, for the most part, the upper ten thousand is largely
populated by lackwits."

Jane chuckled, even though she knew
it was completely inappropriate.
 
She
liked this man - far more than she should.
 
"I have known many a lackwit in my time, my lord.
 
Er, I mean Sebastian.
 
And I am far from a favorite of society
myself.
 
I am well familiar with how
trying it can be."

For a few moments, they sat in
silence listening to the bubbling fountain that Angeline had installed in the
middle of Jane's mother's rose garden.
 
Normally, the fountain was a sore spot with Jane, but not tonight.
 
Right now, it was soothing and she began to
understand why her stepmother adored it so much.
 
The merry bubbling, combined with a few twinkling stars overhead
made Jane believe that magic was indeed possible.
 
She felt relaxed and happy, and realized that it had been a very
long time since she had felt that way.
 
If she ever had.

"So why did you wish to avoid
the simpering young chit, as I believe you called her?"
 
Jane wasn't trying to fill the silence; that
was companionable.
 
Instead, she was
truly curious.
 
She wanted to know more
about this man beside her who made her blood pound and her stomach feel as if
it was filled with butterflies.
 
"Did she do something to offend you?
 
For some reason, I have the feeling that it is difficult to truly
offend you.
 
Even if one is a
lackwit."

"She opened her mouth and
spoke.
 
That was more than enough to
offend me.
 
And yes, she was a lackwit.
 
By far one of the worst that I have
encountered."
 
Sebastian picked at
a piece of lint on his coat sleeve as if he had calmly discussing the weather.
 
"Every other sound she omitted was a
giggle until I thought she might not be capable of intelligent speech."
 
Then he grinned wickedly and his eyes were
lit from within, as if his very soul was contained in them.
 
She was completely captivated.
 
"I am still not entirely convinced that
she is."

Jane laughed, her spirits
soaring.
 
Again.
 
It was a loud, hearty chuckle and, much to
her surprise, Sebastian didn't seem to mind at all.
 
In fact, he continued to grin as well, reaching out to take her
hand in his and sending a jolt of something delicious skittering down her spine
to settle low in her belly.
 
She did not
pull away.
 
She would not dream of it.

"I am sorry, my lord.
 
I mean Sebastian.
 
The fairer sex does have a habit of making nonsensical noises,
I'm afraid."
 
Lord only knew that
Lizzie did it often enough when she was near a man she had an interest in.
 
In Jane's opinion, it only made her sister
sound stupid.
 
It was nice, in a way, to
know that she had been right.
 
Not all
men preferred idiots.
 
Or, as Sebastian
termed them, lackwits.

He looked at her askance, a teasing
grin on his lips.
 
"Yet you are
able to converse with me.
 
And I suspect
that if I asked you a question, a real one, say about our policies towards
France or something else of an intellectual nature, you would be able to
provide me with a well thought out response."
 
He paused to study her for a moment, as if truly taking in all of
her appearance.
 
"Could you?
 
Or am I wrong?"

"I could," she replied,
not certain where this was going but willing to follow where he led, just like
a dance back in the ballroom.
 
Only this
was far better than a dance.
 
Even
better than a waltz.
 
This was real and
true.
 
"I read the newspaper.
 
I study the books in my father's
library.
 
Things interest me that woman
should perhaps find boring.
 
But then, I
am not like other women, as I believe we have already established.
 
I like to know more about the world than is
probably proper for a woman, as well."
 
Then she shrugged, affecting a casual air.
 
"But I am not wholly unfeminine.
 
I also adore the pianoforte.
 
It is my passion."

Jane said that last word in a whisper,
almost afraid to speak it.
 
She was not
a passionate woman.
 
Yet, in the span of
a little less than an hour, for the first time in her life, she
felt
passionate.
 
Their conversation had not
been inappropriate, and yet, it was far more intimate than if he would have
tried to kiss her.
 
He was learning her,
discovering part of her soul and her mind.
 
To her, that was far more seductive than any kiss or caress could ever
be.
 
Then again, as she had never been
kissed, she did not exactly have a good basis of comparison.

But if Sebastian were to kiss
her?
 
She would not object.
 
Not in the least.

She glanced up a him coyly, praying
that he would not be offended by her choice of words.
 
He wasn't.
 
Instead he
appeared...interested.
 
In her.

"I adore passion."
 
His voice was soft, seductive.
 
"In fact, in the short time I have
known you, I find that I adore much about you, Jane.
 
Perhaps far too much."

She could play coy.
 
Jane knew she could.
 
However she saw no sense in it.
 
This was a moment out of time.
 
Nothing more.
 
There was no reason not to be honest with this man who seemed to
crave honesty above all else.
 
"And
I you, Sebastian.
 
Perhaps far too much
as well."

BOOK: At The Stroke Of Midnight
5.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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