Claiming the Chaperon's Heart (11 page)

‘You are most welcome, my lord,’ she replied demurely but with a wicked twinkle in her eyes. ‘I have enjoyed myself a great deal this morning and shall look forward to visiting your house once the furnishings are installed.’

‘Naturally, I shall offer you the chance before anyone else,’ he said. ‘However, I must tell you that I am about to leave town for a few days. We attend the races at Newmarket and in my absence I hope that most of the redecorating will be done...’

‘Ah, yes, that is best,’ Jane agreed. ‘A house is not your own when invaded by builders.’

‘Very true,’ he said ruefully. ‘I confess it is the first time I’ve attempted it. I’ve never owned a house in England before—and in my palace in India all was done before I saw it...’

‘Your palace?’ Jane stared in surprise. ‘Do you own such a thing, my lord?’

‘It was given to me by the father of the Prince I rescued—a small palace by his estimation, but a palace all the same, with pleasant gardens, cool tinkling pools and trees to shade you from the heat of too hot a sun...’

‘India sounds fascinating,’ Jane said. ‘I have sometimes thought I should like to travel again...’

‘You travelled to France or Spain with your husband, I dare say?’

‘Yes. Harry warned me it would be hard at times, and it was—but I would not have changed it for the world. I loved my husband and that time was precious; it mattered not to me that we sometimes lived in cramped and draughty quarters.’

‘I think I envy Lord March,’ Paul said softly, but Jane hardly caught the words and blushed at what she thought she heard.

‘So when do you hope to return?’ she asked. ‘Would it be of use to you, sir, if I visited some other warehouses alone and asked them to send certain items on approval? You may view them at your leisure and reject anything you dislike.’

‘If you choose as you have today, items of quality and taste, then I am certain I shall not need to return them,’ Paul said. He hesitated and then went on, ‘I am always in your debt. You must tell me if I can do anything to please you, my lady.’

‘Then I shall use the time to good purpose,’ she promised. ‘I enjoy shopping and will perhaps find some items I shall need when I set up my house in Bath. My cousin has arrived in town and she seems happy to make her home with us—until she marries, of course.’

‘I shall look forward to making her acquaintance.’ Paul took her hand and kissed it as his carriage halted before her door. ‘And now I must thank you again and leave you, for I have things to attend before I leave.’

‘I enjoyed your company,’ Jane said. ‘Have a pleasant visit and enjoy the races, Lord Frant.’

Paul smiled and helped her down, escorting her to her door, which was opened as she reached it. Returning to his carriage, he was thoughtful. Jane’s taste matched his own perfectly, and his feeling that she was the only woman he would ever wish to marry had grown steadily throughout the morning they had spent together.

He had fortune enough to please any woman, and his birth was good—though her father had been of higher rank. Yet there was nothing to stand in the way of a match between them in that regard—but could he turn her heart towards him? Jane was pleasant, friendly and he believed that she enjoyed his company—but would she ever trust her heart to him?

He was a man who faced reality and he had to admit that not once had she shown any warmer feelings towards him than that of a pleasant acquaintance. Perhaps it was hardly surprising. She had loved once and lost tragically. Could she let go of the past and give herself in marriage again...had she even thought of it, or of him, in such terms?

Paul was rueful as he reviewed her manner and words in his mind, but nothing she had said or done could convince him that he was more to her than an acquaintance.

How could he make her fall in love with him? He was not sure it was possible. He’d tried compliments and that had seemed to cause her to draw back. She was not a vain woman and flattery would be useless. He sighed as he realised that love either happened or it did not...

Sighing, Paul turned his thoughts. He had an appointment with his man of business. Spencer had investigated the affairs of the late Viscount Hargreaves, and would tell him if anything could be salvaged—and if not they must discover a way of making it seem to be so...

* * *

Jane found Melia and Sarah sitting in the front parlour together when she had taken off her pelisse and bonnet. Sarah was reading and Melia was sitting at a table with a pack of cards, playing patience, but without much evidence of being in that mood, for she threw them down with a sound of disgust.

‘I cannot make them come out,’ she cried. ‘It is a useless game. I am glad you are back, Jane, for Sarah said we should not ring for tea until you came.’

‘It is a little past our time,’ Jane said. ‘Forgive me. We were longer than I’d imagined—but it was so pleasant that I quite forgot the time...’

‘I do not know how you can find choosing furniture for that man pleasant,’ Melia said with a sulky look. ‘He but uses you, Jane. You should not allow it.’

‘Oh, I do not think myself used,’ Jane replied, determined not to lose her patience with the girl, even though she found herself resenting Melia’s tone concerning Lord Frant. How could the girl be so ungrateful after what he’d done for her? ‘Like many gentlemen he does not care to spend his time choosing furnishings and I am happy to do it for him—besides, I have seen a few pieces that I should like for my own house when my brother marries.’

Jane saw a guilty flush in Melia’s cheeks and suspected that she no longer wished to be Will’s wife.

‘Is the viscount to marry?’ Sarah looked up from her book.

‘Oh, in time,’ Jane said and glanced at Melia. ‘I do not think it is imminent, though I had thought it might be...’

Melia’s cheeks grew red. She got up and went over to the window, looking out at the street below. ‘Did you know that Lord Frant and Viscount Hargreaves go to Newmarket?’

‘Yes, Lord Frant has just this minute told me. You had it from Viscount Hargreaves, I dare say?’

‘Yes...’ Melia avoided her eyes. ‘He mentioned that he might be leaving town soon.’

‘They leave tomorrow for Newmarket...for the races, I think. Afterwards, they will buy young horses for the stables they intend to set up.’

‘Yes, so I believe,’ Melia said and sighed. ‘I understand they will buy land together in Ireland...’

‘Ah, I did not know that,’ Jane said. ‘It appears you have been privy to more information than I...’ She rang the bell and when a maid appeared asked for tea to be served. ‘We must prepare for this evening...just music and cards. We do not dance until Mama’s ball next week...’

Of its own volition, a sigh left Jane’s lips. She had hoped that Lord Frant would attend the duchess’s ball, but if he were in Newmarket—or even Ireland—he would miss it...and that meant the prospect of dancing, of being held close to a man’s chest, held little appeal for Jane.

Chapter Nine

‘I
t seems that I have the means to pay for my share of the stables,’ Adam announced from the doorway of the inn chamber. ‘The letter arrived this morning. I shall have five thousand clear when everything is settled—enough for the three thousand needed and a decent house in Ireland, should I wish it.’

‘With your winnings these past two days you have enough to live on for a while,’ Paul said and smiled. ‘It seems your fortunes have changed, my friend.’

‘Yes, thank God!’ Adam looked elated. ‘When I placed that bet of a hundred guineas it was my last, leaving me barely enough to settle my score here had I lost it.’

‘You are braver than I.’ Paul chuckled. ‘I do not think I could have placed such a bet.’

‘You are not a gambler,’ Adam said wryly. ‘You have courage, Frant—but you would not gamble your life on the fate of a horse. If it had lost, I fear there would have been nothing left but to put a ball through my head.’

‘Then I thank the fates for making your horse win,’ Paul said, his brows rising. ‘I should not want to lose a friend on such an account...’

‘Well, it seems that for the moment I am saved.’ Adam grinned at him. ‘We should take a look in at Tattersalls today, Frant. We may be able to purchase some decent stock.’

‘Young horses with good bloodlines that we can rear ourselves,’ Paul said. ‘But we need also a good mare to breed from—and one or two horses that show promise of good form in the near future.’

‘Will you race that beautiful horse of yours? The one the Prince gave you and you brought with you on the ship.’

‘I fear my poor Suleima fared worse than I did on the journey,’ Paul replied. ‘One day I hope to race him, but it may be that I shall simply keep him for stud purposes.’

‘None other could match him in the race you rode in India...’

‘No, that is true,’ Paul said. ‘I was offered riches to sell him, but I wanted to bring him home to England...’

‘You intend to settle here then?’

‘Yes, I have made up my mind to it,’ Paul said. ‘I shall keep some of my horses here at my estate in the country, but the young ones can go to Ireland with you.’

‘We have but one more day at the races,’ Adam reminded him. ‘Do you wish to take ship for Ireland immediately?’

‘No, for I am engaged to the Duchess of Roshithe for her ball in two days hence,’ Paul said. ‘I shall return this evening, after the meeting—and we will talk of a trip to Ireland, perhaps next week.’

‘Yes, of course, you would not wish to miss the duchess’s ball,’ Adam murmured softly. ‘Shall we to the races then and see if we can find another winner?’

‘Win or lose, I bet modestly,’ Paul said. ‘You would do well to do the same, Adam.’

‘Of course,’ Adam said but the gleam in his eyes sent a shiver of apprehension down Paul’s spine. If Adam bet recklessly, he could easily lose all he had won and more besides...

* * *

‘You look lovely,’ Jane said to her friends as they came down to the parlour where she and Will were waiting for them. ‘Melia, that gown suits you so well—and Sarah, I think I have not seen you look as beautiful before.’

‘Oh, I am not beautiful,’ Sarah denied with a blush and a shake of her head. ‘You look wonderful yourself—is that a new gown, cousin?’

‘No, one I have worn once before,’ Jane said. She did not add that she had forgone her new gown in order to see both Melia and Sarah supplied with the beautiful creations they were wearing. Madame Françoise had been inundated with requests for new gowns for one of the most important balls of the season, but Jane had waited patiently. She did not expect Lord Frant to attend, therefore it hardly mattered that she was wearing a gown she’d worn before, though Mama had scolded her for it.

‘Jane, you are too unselfish,’ she said. ‘You should have put yourself before Melia. She has already had two new ball gowns.’

‘But she is young and this is her first season. It is more important that both she and Sarah should look well.’

‘And why is that, Jane?’ Mama demanded. ‘I would have my daughter look well—and perhaps find herself another husband...’

‘Mama, please do not...’ Jane sighed. ‘I have told you before that I do not wish to marry the Marquis Vermont—or Lord Hamilton’s nephew or...’

‘No, of course not. Why should you when a much better match presents itself? He is not a marquis, but fortune and good nature are more important and Lord Frant has these qualities in abundance.’

‘Mama!’ Jane’s cheeks burned. ‘Please do not suggest such a thing...’

‘I merely point out that the man is there...and is already halfway in love with you, Jane. If you were to give him a hint, I dare say he would propose to you in an instant...’

Jane felt hot and uncomfortable. Yet her mother was only suggesting what she had suspected once or twice, but immediately dismissed. Sometimes there was a look in Paul Frant’s eyes that seemed to suggest that his feelings for her were more than mere liking.

‘Oh, no, I couldn’t...’ Jane looked away from her mother’s too bright gaze. She tried to dismiss the idea, as she had others—but this time she could not quite manage it. Was it possible that Lord Frant’s regard was something deeper than friendship? And what would she feel about it if that were true, fantastic as it seemed? No, no, it was ridiculous because they had known each other such a short time...

Jane found that the idea was not as distasteful to her as she’d thought it might be and if she were to think of marriage—but of course that was ridiculous. She had no wish to marry again, even to a gentleman as generous and good-natured as Lord Frant...and he’d given no indication that his affections had turned towards her, except now and then there was that look in his eyes. Jane did not wish to believe it. She was not ready to feel love again; it would be a betrayal of Harry. Besides, she did not think it true: it was merely Mama being a matchmaker again, of course.

‘I do hope that Viscount Hargreaves will come this evening,’ Melia said. ‘He thought that he might be in Ireland, but perhaps...’ She stopped, aware that Jane was staring at her. ‘What have I said?’

‘I wish you will not set your heart on that gentleman,’ Jane said gently. ‘I believe he has little fortune and though that would not necessarily prevent the marriage there are other considerations...’

Jane halted once more, because she knew she could not tell Melia what she feared. She must simply let the girl make up her own mind and hope that she came to her senses in time.

‘If he’d been given what he was owed...’ Melia blurted out but then stopped, her face turning red. ‘No matter...’ She turned away in some confusion. ‘Yes, I dare say you are right, Jane.’

Jane would have pressed her to finish what she’d been saying, but they were on the point of leaving for the duchess’s ball and she did not want to spoil the evening for anyone. An argument with Melia would cast a shadow over what should have been a happy evening.

Smiling brightly, she walked to the door, which was opened promptly by her footman. Outside, the carriage was drawn up and another footman stood ready to assist the ladies into the carriage. The viscount came last, sauntering down the stairs as if there was all the time in the world.

‘Will, dearest, do hurry,’ Jane told him with a warm smile. ‘Mama shall not be pleased if we are late.’

‘Oh, I tremble in my boots at the thought of it,’ Will said and laughed. Their mother was dearly loved by both but had never made the least attempt to keep either of them in check.

‘No, do not be wicked, dearest,’ Jane said and poked him in the ribs. ‘Move up and do not squash my gown.’

‘That would never do,’ Will murmured mischievously. ‘I should not wish to be in your black books, Jane.’

‘How can anyone do anything with him?’ Jane appealed to Sarah, who laughed but looked as if she had enjoyed the banter.

‘I think the viscount but means to tease you,’ Sarah said, her eyes resting warmly on the young man, who had moved over to the corner to give his sister room to spread her gown.

So they travelled to the duchess’s grand home in the west of town, three of them chattering and laughing and only Melia silent in her corner. She was subdued and thoughtful and Jane was relieved that she had not scolded her, for the girl’s spirits were already lower than they had been when she first came to town. It was a pity if she’d given her heart to a man who did not deserve her, Jane reflected, but then they were arriving and one of the duke’s flunkeys was opening their carriage door so that the ladies could descend from it to the red carpet spread out to keep their dainty shoes clean, for even outside such a house as this the streets might be stained with dirt.

Then they were inside the magnificent and lofty entrance hall with its floor of shining marble and the magnificent wide staircase leading up to the first floor, where the duchess was standing to receive her visitors.

Jane led the way up the stairs and was graciously welcomed by her mother. Curtsying, Jane waited until the others had greeted the duchess and then remained with her for a few moments while her brother led the two young ladies along the landing to the first reception room.

‘I am delighted to see you looking so well, my dear,’ the duchess said warmly as Jane kissed her cheek.

‘Thank you, dearest Mama.’ Jane smiled at her. Seeing some of her mother’s friends arriving, she inclined her head. ‘I shall leave you to greet your guests and we shall talk later...’

The reception rooms were overflowing with happy, smiling people. Porky was circulating, as was the duty of the host, but when he saw Jane he nodded to his companion and left him, coming to meet her with hands outstretched.

‘My very dear Jane,’ he boomed at her and kissed both her hands in turn. ‘How delightful you always look—charming and pretty, just like your mama.’

‘I thank you, sir...’ she said and dipped a slight curtsy.

‘Now, none of that nonsense,’ he chided and patted her cheek. ‘I am your dear Porky and father, I hope?’

‘You are a dearer one to me than I ever had,’ Jane said and kissed his cheek, which made him blush with pleasure. ‘I hope you know that, Porky?’

‘You make me proud indeed,’ he said. ‘The duchess looks beautiful this evening, did you not think so?’

‘Mama is always beautiful,’ Jane said, ‘but I think that rather lovely diamond tiara is new?’

‘Ah, yes, a little bauble it pleased me to buy for her,’ he said. ‘Off with you to the ballroom, Jane. Do not waste your time talking to an old fellow like me—there are many fine young ones waiting to greet you, my dear.’

‘But I enjoy talking to you,’ Jane said, and accepted a glass of champagne from one of the footmen circulating, and then saw that Melia, Sarah and Will had been waylaid by friends and had not yet reached the ballroom either. Taking a few sips of her wine, her eyes searched the room but the tall figure of Lord Frant was nowhere to be seen and she was aware of disappointment briefly, before finding herself surrounded by several gentlemen clamouring for dances. She handed over her card, smiling particularly at two officers who had been Harry’s friends.

‘Major Harding, Lieutenant Brandt...’ she said. ‘How pleasant to see you again. Are you both on leave?’

‘Yes, there is very little true soldiering to do at the moment,’ Major Harding replied with a smile. ‘We have been with Wellington in Vienna but now we are officially on leave. I intend to sell my commission shortly—and George here is wavering on the brink.’

‘Trouble is, my father won’t let me help with the estate,’ the young man with melting brown eyes said and grinned at her. ‘What is a fellow to do but spend his time in town, drinking and gambling—and that don’t please his lordship either.’

‘Find some employment, George,’ Major Harding chivvied him. ‘It is my intention to import wine—and to set up a breeding stable for thoroughbreds...’

‘Oh, you should talk to Lord Frant,’ Jane said impulsively. ‘I believe he means to race horses...’

‘Are you speaking of Captain Frant?’ The major’s eyes gleamed. ‘We were great friends in the old days, but then he sold out and went to India.’

‘I was not aware that Lord Frant had served as captain,’ Jane said, liking the honest, open manner of the officer. ‘Not when...when Harry and I were with you, I think?’

‘No, a few years previously. He was my first commanding officer on the Peninsula...’

‘Ah...’ Jane nodded. ‘He had intended to attend this evening, but I am not sure—he may have left for...’ The words faded as her eyes were drawn across the room and she saw the very man entering. Yet something was wrong and she heard murmuring around her, not realising at once what it meant—and then she saw that he was wearing a sling on one arm and there was a dressing applied to his forehead. ‘No...excuse me, please...’

Jane made her way through the room, unaware that people turned their heads to watch her or of the whispers and smiles, quickly hidden behind a hand or a kerchief. She reached the newcomer and stood staring up at him, searching his face and seeing that it bore small scratches as well as a binding on the forehead.

‘Lord Frant, you have been hurt...’ she croaked, her lips barely able to move for the shock of seeing him thus.

A rueful smile lit his eyes and he reached out with his right hand to touch hers. ‘A mere accident, Lady March. I was advised to rest for a few days, but I could not forgo the pleasure of seeing...of the duchess’s ball...’

Jane felt warmth flood through her as his smile seemed to caress and she knew what he had meant to say. It was the pleasure of seeing her this evening that had made him come, despite his injuries. Oh, no! How vain she was to think it.

‘What happened, sir?’

‘Oh, the merest incident,’ he declared, dismissing his sling as if it were nothing. ‘A toss from my horse, no more...’

Jane was certain there was more behind the accident as he described the fall, but it was clear he would say nothing, at least this evening.

‘I am happy to see you,’ Jane said. She suddenly realised that everything had become brighter, although until that moment she had not been aware of missing him. Now she realised that had he not come the evening would have seemed less for it. ‘Though I do not think you will be able to dance this evening, sir.’