The Portrait (6 page)

Miss Cheviot eyed her companion from beneath lowered
lashes as they sat taking tea. "My dear Jenny," she said, "I
could scarcely believe my ears when dearest Arthur told me
that you refused to reconsider your rejection of Sinclair."

"I have no desire whatsoever to be married," said Jennifer
in a tone she hoped would bring about a speedy end to the unwelcome turn in conversation.

However, Miss Cheviot had no intention of relinquishing her
cause so easily. "I'm sure that can't be true. Why, surely 'tis
every girl's dream to be married, and to such a personable gentleman too. It's rumored that his income alone is ..

Jennifer could not believe her companion's temerity in pursuing the topic. "I care not what his income may be. If I
marry, it will certainly not be for consideration of my husband's wealth. I have sufficient of my own to render such mercenary thoughts unnecessary."

"Then if it's for the loss of his arm ..

"It most certainly is not the loss of his arm, and I find it less
than charitable of you to mention it. Why, the loss of his arm
can in no way detract from his person. Indeed, I had not even
given it a thought"

"Then there's no reason on this earth you should not reconsider the betrothal," said Miss Cheviot with obvious satisfaction.

Jenny rose hastily to her feet. "It is sufficient," she said,
attempting to retain her composure, "that I have to contend
with my brother forever badgering me to marry, without your
joining his ranks. I am well aware of your desire to remove me
from this house, but you may tell Arthur that you have failed
in your mission."

Miss Cheviot had the grace to blush, "I assure you, dear
Jennifer ..." she began, but words failed her at the look of
scorn that crossed her companion's countenance.

"There's no need for you to make avowals that are blatantly
untrue, Amelia. I am well aware that my continued presence
becomes an embarrassment to you both, but I warn you that you
must bear it as best you may. I have no intention of marrying for your convenience." Without looking back, Jenny left the
room; it would not do to stay, lest her companion became
aware of the hurt she felt.

"Well!" expostulated Miss Cheviot to the empty room.
"Well!"

The Duchess of Rye's ball was hailed as one of the main
events of the season. The splendid rooms of Rye House had
been transformed into temples of old Rome, and even the servants wore togas for the occasion. Magnificent dishes were laid
out in the supper room, where a small fountain flowed with
wine.

No matter how magnificent the occasion, however, Jennifer
found no delight in having to accompany her brother and his
affianced. Indeed, she would have much preferred to remain
at home, but to refuse the invitation would appear churlish.
She had resisted the temptation to dress as a Roman goddess,
as had so many of the other ladies present, preferring instead
to wear a gown of ivory silk adorned with knots of goldspangled ribbon.

Nevertheless, once the Earl of Hawley's party arrived in
the ballroom, it was not long before Lady Jennifer became the
center of a small group of admirers, each eager to attract her
attention. However, it was to the young Lord Melville that she
finally granted the first dance, and he eagerly led her onto the
floor as the strains of the orchestra heralded a cotillion. Lord
Melville proved an engaging partner, his bantering conversation keeping her amused throughout the movements, and
when, at its end, he offered to find her refreshment, she had
no hesitation whatsoever in accepting.

So engrossed was she in watching the progress of those engaged in the current set of country dances that she failed to
notice her escort's return. However, she was visibly startled
when, taking his seat beside her, he bent close to whisper into
her ear, and it took a moment before she could take in what he
was saying.

"My dear Lady Jennifer," whispered Lord Melville, drawing his seat closer still, "I hope you will not find it indelicate of
me, but I must make you aware that Sinclair is here. Indeed,
he draws quite a crowd. So many are there who are eager to
welcome his return that he is positively surrounded with wellwishers."

For a moment she turned startled eyes to his face but soon
recovered, not wishing to seem in any way perturbed. She
smiled, attempting the ordinary. "His return is of no consequence to me. I assure you, I find his comings and goings no
matter for comment. Indeed, if I should never set eyes on the
man again, I will not feel his loss."

Much heartened by this response, Lord Melville proceeded
to attempt to divert his companion with the latest morsels of
gossip, oblivious to the emotions his words had evoked in her
breast.

As the evening advanced and the earl had still not seen fit to
seek her out, Jennifer's mood became one of forced indifference, and she entered into the spirit of the evening with much
enthusiasm. However, in a quiet moment, when she had removed herself to a seat by an open casement, eager to feel its
cooling breeze, she became aware that she was the object of
scrutiny.

Turning in her chair, she saw the earl, elegant in evening attire, standing but a few feet away, conversing with one of his
cronies. If not for the loss of his arm and the pale scar that
now creased his left cheek, Jennifer would not have believed
him returned from war. He retained his noble grace and bearing, appearing oblivious to the interest he evoked, and she
could easily believe that he would once more become the darling of the London hostesses.

As he excused himself from his companion, she saw that he
intended to advance toward her, and she immediately rose to
leave.

"What, you would desert me, Lady Jennifer?" he said, smiling as he came to stand before her. "Am I not to be allowed at
least one word with you?"

"I am totally out of patience with you, my lord, and have no desire whatsoever to talk to you," she snapped, resuming her
seat and refusing to meet his gaze.

At her attempt to rebuff him, he stood squarely before her.
"Come, Jenny, it must not be seen that we argue and feed the
scandalmongers. At least among company it must seem that
we can be civil to each other. Think of the attention we would
draw if we appear antagonistic." As she gave no answer, he
drew up a chair to sit beside her. Concern showing on his
handsome countenance, he laid his hand over hers as it rested
in her lap.

"Would you have it said that there is a bitterness between
us?" he asked quietly, attempting to read her face. "Is there a
bitterness between us?"

Still she made no reply, and he pressed the hand that he
held. "I see that I have wounded you, but believe me when I
say that it is for the best. You would not wish me to be your
husband. Come, did we not agree to at least be friends? I wish
not to alienate you."

Jennifer still gave no immediate reply. But then, raising her
eyes to his face, she smiled and said, "Yes, I do believe we
may suit as friends. Though what society will make of us, I
know not"

"Do you care what the tabbies say?"

She gave a small trill of amusement. "Not in the least, sir."

"Good," he said, rising from his seat. "Perhaps now that our
friendship is confirmed, you might consider using my given
name, for, as you may have noticed, I have every intention of
using yours" He bowed formally and held out his hand. "Would
you do me the honor of standing up with me for this waltz? I
do believe we may attempt it in all propriety."

"But how, Edward?" she asked, for a fleeting moment allowing her eyes to glance at his left shoulder.

"Pay no mind to that, my dear. I do believe that with a little
ingenuity we will manage quite creditably. You need only rest
your hand on my shoulder, and all will work out perfectly."

She appeared taken aback by the suggestion. "I could not,
sir. It would look almost as if we embraced, and as we are no longer betrothed, it would appear quite shocking. Even if we
were, it would cause comments"

He grinned at the idea, his eyes dancing with devilment. "I'd
not thought of it. Yes, I can quite see that we would cause a
stir, but I do believe that we really must. Let the tabbies say
what they like. I must have you dance with me"

She smiled, an answering sparkle in her eyes. "Then, sir,
dance with you I will. I care not for the scandalmongers. I'm
quite sure your impeccable reputation will more than render
us immune to their malicious gossip."

"Is my reputation impeccable?" he asked with some surprise.

"Most certainly! Especially as you are one of the gallant
few who are returned victorious from war."

"What utter nonsense," he scoffed, laughing. "I assure you,
there's nothing gallant about war."

Taking her hand in a firm clasp, he led her determinedly
onto the dance floor, and as they began the movements, they
became aware that several pairs of curious eyes followed their
progress around the room. At first his movements felt awkward, but soon he relaxed and followed the familiar rhythm of
the dance, his right arm snugly encircling Jennifer's slender
waist. It felt so right, and soon they were oblivious to the interest they evoked, only aware of their enjoyment of the moment and each other's company.

Reaching scarcely above Sinclair's shoulder, Jennifer stole
a glance up at her partner's countenance to find him watching
her intently, an unfathomable look in his storm-gray eyes.
When she would have queried that look, he swept her into a
series of intricate moves, from which they emerged breathless
and laughing.

Once the dance ended, Sinclair still retained his hold on her
hand as they returned to the seat by the window. He smiled,
handing her to her chair as he scanned the onlookers for signs
of disapproval. "We appear to have escaped censure for the
moment, but now I will leave you before I render our reputations beyond repair."

As he bowed over her hand, her fingers clung for a moment
to his, and he raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"I forget," she said, smiling. "I must thank you for allowing
Freddie to stay with you last term. Arthur would have berated
him terribly if he'd known that he'd been rusticated."

"He still does not know?"

"No, and I would be grateful if you would not mention the
matter to him."

"Nothing would induce me to, my dear. It was naught but a
boyish prank instigated by Perry and his hapless hound. Freddie but championed them. Do not fear, I've already read them
a lecture on the subject and extracted a promise for more
decorum in the future"

She laughed. "No matter what lectures you make, I can
hardly see those two behaving with decorum"

Sinclair smiled in agreement. "Neither can I, but an attempt
must be made to instill at least some sense into their nonsensical brains."

At that moment, they spied Lady Flora bearing down upon
them, a young debutante in her wake.

"Oh, Lord, not Flora with one of her hopefuls again,"
groaned the earl. "She's forever trotting them out for my inspection. She still holds hopes that eventually one will catch
my eye."

"And will one?" asked Jennifer coldly.

"Never!" he replied with determination, and, once more
bowing, he relinquished her company and prepared for his sister's onslaught.

Viewing the earl's departure from the alcove where he'd
been waiting, Lord Melville immediately returned to Jenny's
side. However, his joy at reclaiming her company was shortlived, as he was met with a frosty reception and soon found it
necessary to seek out his cronies in the card room.

When news that Lady Jennifer Lynton and the Earl of Sinclair had enjoyed a cozy tete-a-tete and even waltzed together
at the duchess' ball permeated society, they found themselves the object of speculation and their movements commented on
whenever they ventured forth to an event.

So out of patience did Jennifer become with the comments
she frequently overheard, she decided to turn her energies in a
completely different direction, eager for a diversion from Sinclair. To that end she commissioned her brother to purchase a
high-perch phaeton for her. It had long been her ambition to
tool such a vehicle, and this seemed an excellent opportunity
to achieve it.

When approached on the subject, Hawley was not in
agreement with her scheme, saying with a great deal of censure that no lady of quality would be seen driving such a
sporting vehicle. That, however, only served to strengthen
her resolve that no other conveyance would suffice, and to that
end she engaged the services of a reputable coach builder.
Within a short space of time she contracted to purchase a very
smart phaeton with double perches of swan-neck pattern and
eagerly awaited its arrival. Being presented with a fait accompli, Hawley, very much against his better judgment, eventually agreed to visit Tattersall's in an attempt to purchase a
pair of suitable horses.

Upon his return he proudly informed her that he'd managed
to acquire a pair of very sweet-goers, even if at one stage he'd
been in danger of being outbid by the Duke of Cumberland's
agent.

In less than a week the sight of Lady Jennifer Lynton driving a fine pair of grays with a liveried groom perched behind
her became a familiar sight in town.

Driving down Bond Street one sunny afternoon on her way
to the park, she noticed the Earl of Sinclair leaving one of the
shops and setting out on foot toward his club. Bringing her
horses to a halt, she ordered the groom to their heads and
waited at the roadside for his approach. However, he appeared
oblivious to her presence as he closely inspected something
in his hand and almost passed the vehicle without noticing it.

"Edward!" she cried in a reproving voice, and immediately
he turned to face her, slipping the article hastily into his pocket.

Making a slight bow, he smiled and approached the side of
the vehicle, flicking his eyes over the equipage. "Lady Jennifer and her grays," he said, humor in his voice. "You set the
town on its ears, my dear. I wonder at your daring."