Jack of Hearts (28 page)

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Authors: Marjorie Farrell

Tags: #Regency Historical

BOOK: Jack of Hearts
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“So it is to be Windham after all?”

“It would seem so. I just wish he had understood my concerns about the mills better. But I am sure he will come around.”

“Yet Lord Aldborough was very much in sympathy on that score,” Sarah said pointedly. “You like his nieces, and he is certainly not physically repellent to you!”

“Give over, Sarah. I know you favor him, but I’m sure Windham will make the better husband. Even without love—especially if there is not love—there needs to be trust in a marriage.”

* * * *

But later, as Anne dressed for supper, she thought about the two men. Lord Windham had everything to recommend him. He was a handsome, intelligent man who had treated her with great respect. They had become comfortable with one another almost immediately, despite the differences in their temperaments. And she felt safe with him, for he had never done anything to impose himself on her physically. He may have described himself as a passionate man, but he had never let passion intrude upon their companionship.

That was a good thing, she told herself. In a marriage of convenience, mutual affection was preferable to one-sided passion. Surely she didn’t want Lord Richard to feel passionate about her? No, but she had to be honest; she might not want that, but she wondered, albeit illogically, why she didn’t inspire it.

Jack Belden, on the other hand… Anne was not sure if he was a passionate man. He had certainly never described himself that way. The fact that his fingers seemed to burn through her, and that he had prolonged his kiss under the mistletoe, meant nothing. How else does a man go about collecting hearts than by convincing a woman that only she makes him feel this warmth and desire?

Be fair, lass, she admonished herself. Maybe ‘tis nowt but tha own desire. She grew warm thinking about it. But a moment of lust meant nothing. It wasn’t a safe way to choose a husband.

That was it, realized Anne. She wished to feel safe. She was drawn to the baron and Windham because she knew they could never touch her deeply. And that made good sense, for if a man was going to marry her for money, she didn’t want to be vulnerable to him.

She wouldn’t be safe with Jack Belden. She would be vulnerable, if only on a purely physical level. When he touched her, he
touched
her. She could not afford that. And since she was, after all, the buyer, she would buy what she could afford: a kind man whom she could bed safely and keep at a distance.

* * * *

Having finally settled on Windham, Anne was eager to see him. When she received a bouquet of violets and a short note asking her to save him a waltz at the Preston rout, she was pleased. Perhaps Thursday night she could let him know that she preferred him. The formal arrangement would be made by Mr. Blaine, but if she dropped a hint to Lord Richard, she hoped he would make a more personal approach.

* * * *

“You look especially lovely tonight, Anne,” Elspeth told her when she and Sarah arrived at the Prestons’.

“As do you.”

Elspeth lowered her voice. “I have had all my gowns altered, for the bodices have all grown too small. I should be thankful, I suppose, that that is the only sign I am increasing,” she added with a wry smile. “Have you come any closer to a decision, Anne?” she asked as they waited for Val to join them.

“I think I have, Elspeth. Leighton…”

“Oh, not the baron!” Elspeth protested.

“If you will let me finish! Leighton is no longer a candidate. But what did you have against him?”

“Nothing personal, only I thought it would be more difficult to begin a marriage of convenience with the added complication of a stepdaughter.”

“Well, you were right, Elspeth. Lady Eliza is spoiled and snobbish. She doesn’t want her father to marry at all. In fact, she assured me he will not have to, for she has an understanding of sorts with one of her neighbors,” Anne told her friend.

“So she is headstrong as well. It sounds like you are well out of that family, Anne!”

“What family is that?” asked Val as he joined them.

“Anne has dropped the baron from her list,” Elspeth told him. “It seems Lady Eliza is dead set against having a stepmother.”

“Then it is Windham or Jack?” asked Val.

“It is Windham,” Anne informed them.

Elspeth opened her mouth as if to say something, and Val gave her a quick, warning glance. “Does the lucky man know yet?”

“I am hoping to drop a hint tonight. I may be a practical lass, but I find I would like a proposal before contracts are drawn up,” said Anne.

“Here he comes now,” Val told her.

“Yes, he has the first waltz.”

As Anne and Windham moved off, Elspeth looked over at her husband. “Nothing is working out as I wish, Val. I
know
Jack and Anne would suit,” Elspeth complained.

“Well, we did our best, my dear,” Val told her with a smile.

“I know. But what will Jack do now, Val?”

“He will have to find some other Cit’s daughter.”

“But I’d like to see both of them happy, not merely settling for what they can find.”

“You don’t think Anne can be happy with Windham? He seems to hold her in the highest esteem. And there is no spoiled daughter to complicate things,” Val added with a grin.

“But there is Lady Julia,” Elspeth said thoughtfully.

“I know you were worried about his attachment, but she is rumored to become betrothed any day now. Whatever they felt for one another, I am sure it is over.”

“Would you have forgotten me that quickly, Val?”

“Never,” he said so fiercely that Elspeth grew warm.

“And there is no reason to suppose we are the only passionately faithful lovers in the world, Val, much as I would like to think it.”

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

Now that Anne had made a decision, she hoped to discover if Windham and she would be compatible physically. She might not want a grand passion, but neither did she want a sterile marriage.

His hand felt pleasantly warm against her waist, and the fingers of her hand nestled comfortably in his.

“We dance well together, Miss Heriot,” he said after a few turns around the floor.

“I have always thought so, my lord.”

Anne was pleasantly relaxed by the time the music stopped, and when Lord Richard suggested a stroll in the garden, she agreed happily. It seemed he was taking the initiative without her having to hint at all.

There were other couples enjoying the air, but Windham guided her down one of the deserted paths. At the end was a small wooden bench, and he asked if she would like to sit for a while.

“Thank you, my lord, my slippers are a bit tight tonight,” Anne told him. Her slippers, in fact, fit perfectly, but she would not turn down the opportunity of few minutes alone with him.

He sat next to her and they were quiet for a moment, drinking in the sweet smell of lavender that perfumed the air around them.

“I have always marveled that a Mediterranean plant does so well in our wet climate,” Anne remarked, breaking the silence.

“At Windham, one whole side of the house is bordered with lavender, and in June we open the door to the breakfast room to let in the fragrance.”

“It sounds lovely. I would love to see it.”

“And I would love to show it to you,” he said quietly. “Windham has been in my family for more than three hundred years, and each generation of Farrars has only grown more attached to it,” he added with a sweet smile.

“It must be very hard for you to know it is at risk.”

“Yes. Yet as much as I love it, I would not marry just anyone to save it, Miss Heriot. I wish you to believe that.” He hesitated and then continued. “I know I am speaking very frankly, but I feel you will not mind.”

“I welcome it, Lord Richard, being a straightforward Yorkshire lass,” Anne reassured him with a smile.

“I may need a rich wife, Miss Heriot, but I also want one who can be a friend and companion. I hadn’t really hoped to find a person like that until I met you,” he whispered, and leaning forward, dropped a kiss on her lips.

His lips were warm, and when he felt her respond, his kiss became warmer as her mouth opened under his. Yet, somehow, at the heart of it, it was a cool kiss, Anne realized when he pulled away. And so, when he took her hand and said, “Miss Heriot, I am hoping…” she raised her hand to stop him. “I am afraid our absence will be noticed, my lord. I think I can guess what you are about to say and hope you will call on me this week?”

He let go of her hand instantly. “You’re right, Miss Heriot. I should get you back. But I will call on you tomorrow, then?”

“I will look forward to it.”

As they walked back, Anne wondered at herself. She had come to this ball intending to get Lord Windham to the point of proposing. He had been about to do just that, yet she had stopped him. The only reason she could come up with, she realized as they reached the ballroom, was that his kiss, given in the most romantic of settings, had not warmed her to the center of her being the way Jack Belden’s very public Christmas kiss had. Well, it didn’t matter; she would have a chance to say “yes” very soon.

* * * *

For the next few hours, Anne did not have any time to think, since her dance card had filled early. She was almost relieved, therefore, when the young marquess of Hythe stumbled and spilled half a glass of punch on her dress.

“Oh, I say, I am terribly sorry, Miss Heriot,” he stammered, his face red with embarrassment.

“It is all right, my lord. My dress and the punch are almost the same color,” she said with a reassuring smile. “But you will excuse me? I wish to deal with the stain right away.”

Anne quickly made for the ladies’ retiring room. She had hidden her distress from young Hythe, but the rose silk was one of her favorite gowns, and she hoped a quick sponging would rescue it. She was behind a screen cleaning her skirt when she heard two young ladies come into the outer room.

“I do not think I can bear it, Maria,” said one, clearly on the verge of tears.

“But you yourself are about to be betrothed, Julia. I thought you had finally put Richard out of your mind.”

“I thought I had too, but it became very clear to me tonight that I have been deceiving myself. When I saw him go out into the garden with Miss Heriot…” Lady Julia Lovett gave a little sob.

Anne had been about to announce her presence when she was frozen in place by the mention of her name.

“He
has
to marry someone with money, Julia, you knew that,” her friend said sympathetically.

“Of course. It is why he had Father break off our engagement and if he has to marry someone in trade, Miss Heriot is better than some of the other young women shopping for husbands. From what I have seen of her, I would like her myself.”

“You know he doesn’t love her.”

“Do I?” Lady Julia whispered brokenly. Anne, who had been standing as still as a deer caught in torchlight, told herself to take a breath. Tha must not faint, lass, and be discovered.

“Don’t cry, Julia,” her companion said helplessly.

“I’m trying not to, Maria. It is just that the reality of it all hit me tonight. And he hasn’t spoken to me except for polite conversations since last July,” she added despairingly.

“I am sure he is avoiding you for your own sake, Julia.”

Lady Julia sighed. “Yes, that would be quite like Richard. I just wish he didn’t have to be so bloody honorable!”

“Julia!”

“Oh, no one can hear me, Maria.”

Anne could hear the rustle of their gowns as they rose. “I must go back out there. If he can be honorable, I suppose I can be too. And I am glad he took Miss Heriot out to the garden. I would have continued pretending that I didn’t care anymore. Now that I know how much I still do, I can never marry Lord Broome.”

“Don’t make any rash decisions, Julia,” counseled her friend. “Tonight has upset you, but things will look better in the morning.”

* * * *

When Anne heard the door close behind them, she let out her breath in one long sigh. She had never heard of any engagement between Windham and Lady Julia. Why had no one
told
her? She stepped out from behind the screen and sat down on the loveseat. Lord Windham had loved Lady Julia, probably still loved her.

He was as nice a man as she had believed, Anne thought with painful irony. He’d ended his betrothal to free Lady Julia when he had been ruined by his father’s recklessness. And he had made a complete break of it. Anne knew Lady Julia by sight, of course, but she would never have guessed from Windham’s behavior that he had ever known her intimately, much less been betrothed to her.

An honorable man. And one she could never marry. She might not be expecting love in her marriage, but she’d be damned if she would enter into a union where the possibility was hopeless from the beginning. It was one thing to take the chance that her husband might not be able to give her his heart, but quite another to marry someone whose heart had already been given to someone else.

An honorable man! If Lord Richard was such an honorable man, then why hadn’t he spoken of his betrothal, she thought angrily. Had he ever planned to tell her?

Now, lass, be fair. He could hardly have announced it on your first meeting. Most likely he was planning to tell you tomorrow. Or at least, before the wedding.

Anne looked down at her dress. The wet spot was dry enough for her to see that the gown was still slightly darker from the claret punch. She sighed. She supposed a lady wouldn’t have tried to save the dress, but gone home immediately. But she was a practical lass from Yorkshire, so of course she had to attempt to rescue it! If she weren’t so damned practical, she would never have overheard a conversation meant for no one’s ears, especially hers. She would have been dreaming of a betrothal-sealing kiss.

Instead, there she sat, knowing there would be no betrothal. In one short week, it had become clear that if she was to marry this year, it would be Jack Belden or no one!

When she returned to the ballroom, she sought out Elspeth immediately. “Would you walk me to the cloakroom, Elspeth? My gown is ruined. Please tell Sarah I have gone home, Val.”

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