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Authors: Bethany Sefchick

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BOOK: At The Stroke Of Midnight
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She considered running away for
about a minute or two, but the reality was, she had nowhere to go.
 
No family of good standing wanted her for a
governess it seemed, nor did any finishing school.
 
That left the unknown Scottish laird whom Jane hadn't even heard
a thing about until that evening.
 
As
far as she knew, her father was still searching for a position for her closer
to London.
 
Now it appeared that she was
to be sent as far away as possible, all the way to Scotland, where it was
unlikely that she would ever have the means or opportunity to return home
again.

The brutal truth was, Angeline did
not want Jane around any longer.
 
Jane
had accidentally overheard the whispered conversation between two maids as she
had fled to her room.
 
Now that Lizzie
was to be married, Angeline desired to become the most accomplished hostess in
all of London the following season, proving to others how brilliant she was at
matchmaking and showing off her perfect family.
 
She could not do that, she had confided to her ladies maid, with
a mopey, dowdy, plain, and uninteresting stepdaughter underfoot.
 
One that, it was plain for all to see, no
one wanted.

Therefore, Jane had to go.
 
Though to where was the question.

There was no extended family to
take her in, no older sisters or spinster aunts.
 
There weren't even any friends she might prevail upon for
respite, for all of those she had been close to in London now had their own
lives.
 
Lives Jane did not wish to
intrude upon even if her father forced her.
 
No, it was Scotland or nothing.

How Angeline had convinced Jane's
father to agree to this, Jane didn't know.
 
But it hurt, probably even more than Sebastian's betrayal.
 
After all, Sebastian had never really been
Jane's to lose.
 
Her father had.

Yet, for a brief moment when
Sebastian had appeared at the front door, his mother in tow, Jane's heart had
leapt into her throat and hope for a different future had sprung up inside of
her.
 
Until reality intruded and Jane
understood that Sebastian was not here for her but rather for her sister.
 
It had been all she could do not to flee
immediately.

For the next two days, Jane had
studiously avoided just about everyone, becoming a virtual shadow in her own
home.
 
Tonight, however, she could not
hide.
 
Her father had made it clear that
her presence was required at the opening grand ball and no amount of megrims or
ailments would earn her a reprieve.

From his tone and the guilt that
was evident in his eyes, Jane suspected that her father knew that
something
had passed between her and Sebastian, but the guilt she saw could also have
been caused by his decision to banish his eldest daughter to the wilds of
Scotland.
 
It had been made clear that
it was unlikely that Jane would ever see her family after she departed in a few
days time.

Now, restless and annoyed, she
stood before the long mirror taking in her appearance, wondering why her father
had even bothered to purchase her a new gown, but loving the way it felt
against her skin anyway.
 
If she looked
acceptable, maybe even pretty, perhaps that would soothe the sting of what was
to come that evening.

The gown was one of two that he had
made for her, much to her surprise.
 
This one was made of a deep, emerald green silk, the bodice encrusted
with so many crystals it appeared as if she were dusted with ice.
 
Though it laced a bit scandalously up the
back like a corset and dipped dangerously low in the front, it was also
thankfully free of flounces, bows, and other adornments.
 
Just the crystals, which continued their
sparkling cascade down the front of the gown until they spread out like so many
stars in the sky.
 
At the very bottom, a
small piece of golden lace was just barely visible, clearly indicating that it
was a creation from Madame LaVallier's shop.

It was the dress she had wished for
ever since the night she had first met Sebastian.
 
She had dreamed that she would wear just such a gown, the deep
green hue accenting her natural coloring, just as he had suggested.
 
In her fantasies, he would take one look at
her and be swept away with passion, just as he had been that night.
 
At the moment, however, it seemed as if that
singularly perfect night belonged to another lifetime and another woman.

Jane was so lost in thought that
she did not even notice when Lizzie, resplendent in a gown of icy, pale blue
silk and covered in pearls, came to stand beside her.
 
She only noticed when Lizzie elbowed her out of the way, taking
Jane's place to preen in front of the mirror.

"Boring though he may be, I
shall accept Lord Covington's suit until Lord Hathaway comes to his
senses.
 
Which he will.
 
I am certain of it."
 
Lizzie patted her golden tresses, which had
been swept up and off of her shoulders into an elaborate cascade of curls and
studded with numerous pearl and diamond combs and pins.
 
"Nothing of our betrothal has been
announced yet and when the season begins again in the spring, I shall make one
last attempt to snare the duke's attention.
 
Should I fail, I will simply have the earl to fall back on."

Jane was almost ill on the
spot.
 
Despite the fact that he had cast
her aside, she firmly believed that Sebastian should not be anyone's second
choice!
 
How could her family not see
that?
 
Why were they doing this?
 
Better yet, why was Sebastian allowing
it?
 
This was not the behavior of the
man who had seduced her in her father's Mayfair garden.
 
It simply was not.
 
Nothing about this farce of a betrothal made any sense to her at
all.
 
Or perhaps it was simply wishful
thinking on her part.

"That is a terrible thing to
say, Elizabeth.
 
The earl is to be your
husband and he deserves your devotion.
 
He should not merely be a place holder in your life until something
better comes along!"
 
Jane could barely
contain her anger, especially when she longed to marry Sebastian herself.
 
Life had never exactly been fair to her, but
she had never expected it to be quite this cruel, either.

Standing here beside her sister,
feeling so inadequate, Jane found that she could no longer hold her tongue.

Lizzie turned to look at her
sister, a frown marring her otherwise smooth forehead.
 
"Jane, if I did not know better, I
would think that you have feelings for the man."
 
Then she glared in a way that only Lizzie could.
 
"If you have designs on my future
husband confess now so that this house party does not become an embarrassment
for Mama and Papa."

Fearing she had revealed too much,
Jane quickly backtracked, a knot of terror lodging in her throat for a
moment.
 
"It is not that,
Lizzie.
 
It is merely that you are being
handed on a silver platter that which I have longed for and will never
receive.
 
To be more precise, a husband.
 
Someone who will love and care for you.
 
I would feel thus no matter who you were to
marry."
 

Her argument must have sounded
extremely reasonable for Lizzie's face instantly relaxed, the moment of pique
gone as if it had never been.
 
"It
is not my fault you are plain, Jane.
 
And Papa has tried to buy you a husband with that stupidly enormous dowry
he gifted you with.
 
But other than
fortune hunters, you seem to turn off every man you encounter.
 
That is your fault, and not mine."

Not Sebastian
, Jane wanted
to reply but she remained silent.
 
He
likes me just as I am.
 
Or rather, he
did.
 
However, there was a kernel of
truth in Lizzie's words as well.
 
Though
she could have perhaps been a bit nicer in the phrasing.

"All I am saying is be nice to
Lord Covington and do not pin your hopes on the duke.
 
In all likelihood, the earl will be your husband by the end of
next season.
 
He will be in charge of
your life and perhaps it would be a good idea to treat him with some
respect."
 
Not that she could
imagine Sebastian hurting Lizzie in any way, no matter what she said or
did.
 
In truth, she couldn't imagine him
hurting anyone.

"Pish!"
 
Lizzie waved a hand in the air and patted
her hair again, tucking one glittering diamond hairpin back into place.
 
The girl was more vain than even Jane had realized,
what with all the fussing over her hair.
 
"I shall have the earl wrapped around my finger in no time.
 
Men adore me and, after allowing them a
brief kiss, they all do my bidding willingly.
 
I have nothing to worry about."
 
Then she swept out of the room without a backward glance, leaving Jane
still standing by the mirror.

"Not Sebastian, Lizzie,"
Jane whispered quietly into the silence, the room now feeling oddly empty.
 
"I do not believe he is as easy to
control as you think."

Then she turned back to her own
reflection and gave herself another glance, thinking that tonight she actually
did look pretty.
 
Not a true diamond
like Lizzie, but passable enough.
 
Had
circumstances been different, she might have even felt beautiful.

Her hair fell loosely around her
shoulders and was pulled back in a singular twist, unlike her sister's more
elaborate hairstyle.
 
After all, Lizzie
had a dozen diamond hairpins at her disposal and wanted to show them off.
 
Jane had one emerald hair comb, which had
been her mother's.
 
There had been a
pair of them but at some point over the season, one had been lost, much to
Jane's chagrin.
 
So she and her lady's
maid sufficed with one, not that she would probably need them again after this
house party.
 
She doubted that
governesses in the Scottish Highlands wore emerald hair combs.

Picking up her hem, she gave
herself one last look in the mirror and then followed the same path out the
door her sister had taken.
 
It was time
for the party to begin so that it might end sooner rather than later.
 
She wondered if, once the clock struck
midnight, she might be free to leave.
 
Lord, she hoped so.

 

Sebastian St. Giles, the current
Earl of Covington, wanted nothing more than to shoot something.
 
Preferably his mother.
 
No.
 
He supposed he didn't want to shoot her.
 
Shake some sense into her, more like it.

She stood beside him glittering in
her finery, a placid smile on her face.
 
She was firmly convinced she had finally carried out her late husband's
wishes where her son was concerned.
 
If
only she had bothered to ask her son what he wanted before acting on her
own.
 
Not that it would have likely
changed her mind.
 
Once Margaret St.
Giles had made up her mind, there was no changing it.
 
Sebastian had learned that long ago.
 
Still, he felt as if he had to try before he was bound forever to
a woman he loathed.

"Mother, please.
 
I would speak to you about this absurd
arrangement once more.
 
I do not love
Elizabeth and wish to pick my own bride.
 
I have found the woman I desire.
 
You know this.
 
Set me free and
end this farce and I can be wed by Christmas.
 
That would make you happy, would it not?"
 
He had been over this same argument many times before, each time
with a decided lack of success.
 
Silently he cursed his late father who had given his wife the ultimate
power to pick a wife for their only son and heir if he had not done so as this
thirtieth birthday approached.

God knows Sebastian and his
solicitors had been seeking a way around the dictate once they discovered it,
and, had he known about the provision in the will, he would have selected a
chit well before this last August and been done with it.
 
At least it would have been his choice.
 
However, unless he wanted to give up the
earldom, and therefore leave it to pass to a second cousin who would not care
about the estates, as well as bleed the family coffers dry of funds within mere
months, he was at his mother's mercy.

When he had returned to London for
the Little Season after receiving word from his mother that she was about to
pick his bride for him, he had thought he knew of a solution that would please
everyone - especially him.
 
He had
approached the Earl of Devonmont about marrying Jane.
 
In truth, he would have pursued Jane immediately after that night
at her family's musicale, but he'd been called away to deal with a problem at
one of his holdings in Kent.
 
During his
rather lengthy time away, he had thought about Jane nearly every day, imagining
all of the wicked things she could do with that luscious, smart mouth of
hers.
 
And all of the things he could
teach her to do with it, as well.

BOOK: At The Stroke Of Midnight
6.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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