At The Stroke Of Midnight (15 page)

The old Jane, however, would have
allowed the entire comment to pass, as well as the accusation - to be polite
and ladylike if nothing else.
 
But the
Jane who had just realized she was in love with Sebastian and was loath to give
him up?
 
She would not be so easily
agreeable.

"No.
 
I do not believe that."
 
Jane took a step forward, a little more brazen now, though she had to
fight back a blanch at the idea of Lizzie carrying Sebastian's child.
 
"And neither, I suspect, do you.
 
You might wish it to be, but in your heart,
you know that will not be the case."

"And your sister?"
 
This time, Margaret was asking a question.

"To Elizabeth, your son is a
means to an end, one she will accept only when she has run out of other
options.
 
She will not marry him until
it is abundantly clear that she does not have another choice."

Margaret seemed to consider that
for a moment.
 
"You are speaking of
Lord Hathaway, I take it?"

Bolder now, Jane came to stand
within the circle of light given off by Margaret's candle, not defiant
precisely, but rather brutally honest.
 
"I am.
 
She is smitten with
the duke, and, if I may be frank, he is too good for her.
 
As is your son.
 
My sister is many things, including sneaky and deceitful, and she
will not rest until she is certain that Adam will not wed her.
 
The duke does not love her and will
not.
 
Not now and not ever.
 
I have that on excellent authority.
 
As does Sebastian."

Jane noted the way the duchess'
eyes flared slightly at Jane's use of his Christian name.
 
"And your family?"
 
Again, another question.

"I cannot say for certain what
my father's motive are."
 
That was
the one thing Jane knew without question.
 
"I know that I remind him of his late first wife - my mother
Catronia - far too much."
 
She
shrugged.
 
"As for my
stepmother?
 
She will do whatever is
necessary to see her daughter make a brilliant match, no matter who is hurt in
the process.
 
That includes your
son."
 

Another shrug and this time, Jane
lowered her voice, not wanting to be overheard in case a servant was hovering
nearby.
 
"And I fear that means
that if the duke shows the slightest bit of interested in Elizabeth, she will throw
over Sebastian and damn the consequences, figuring out a way for him to take
the blame and her to look the innocent and wronged party.
 
It is a skill she has learned well over the
years.
 
Sebastian will be hurt and
embarrassed, particularly if they are already wed at the time the duke comes
calling.
 
Not that I suspect he will,
but humans are odd creatures, my lady, and sometimes, behavior changes, even
when you think it might not."

By this time, Jane's chest was
heaving and she was certain that the duchess would draw back in horror at the
way she had spoken - so plain and brash and not in the least refined or
ladylike.
 
After all, one did not tell a
countess she was wrong and not anticipate repercussions of some type.
 
Ladies did not speak like that.
 
Ever.
 
There would be consequences for her actions, though Jane did not know
how severe.
 
At the moment, she did not
care either.
 
All she wanted was for
Sebastian's mother to know the truth.
 
And the truth was something that Jane was coming to learn her family was
not particularly good at dealing with.
 
Or speaking.

However, Margaret merely stood
there studying Jane for what seemed like an eternity.
 
Then, she did the last thing Jane anticipated.
 
She smiled.
 
In a manner not unlike that of her son when he was trying his best to be
utterly charming.

"Despite what you may believe,
I do like you, Lady Jane.
 
You have
spirit and are honest, two things most young females today are sadly
lacking.
 
Not like it was in my day, I'm
afraid."
 
There was a warmth in the
older woman's voice that Jane had not anticipated.
 
"And were the future of the earldom not in question, and
other decisions not already been made, some by you yourself, I would welcome
you into my family, for I do think that you genuinely care for my son."

"I do."
 
There was no sense in denying it, not that
Jane ever would.
 
"I care for your
son more than I can express.
 
He is
everything to me and there is nothing I would not do for him."

"Then you also understand why
I was forced to match him with your sister, even though both of you share
Scottish blood.
 
Though hers is less
than yours and much better hidden."
 
There was no malice in the countess' words, much to Jane's surprise.

Jane cocked her head.
 
"You know about Angeline's
bloodlines?"

Margaret St. Giles waved a hand in
the air as if dismissing the question.
 
"Of course I do.
 
Did you
think I would not become actively involved with my son's selection of a bride -
out of necessity, mind you - and not thoroughly investigate the potential bride
and her family?"

"Honestly, I do not know, your
grace."
 
Jane was treading on
unfamiliar ground now and history had taught her to be cautious.
 
"I know very little about you, actually,
other than what Sebastian has told me."

"And much of that is not good,
I would wager."
 
The countess'
mouth was set in a firm line, her lips twisted in a grimace.
 
"I know that my son does not understand
about the depth of the promise I made to my late husband.
 
Or the needs of the earldom.
 
I swore that I would not allow the earldom
to fall, no matter the cost, and I intended to keep that promise."

Jane snorted.
 
She could not help herself.
 
"At the expense of your son's
happiness."

"Were you in my position, you
would better understand."
 
There
was a quiet confidence in the older woman's words.

"But I will never be in your
position, your grace."
 
Jane closed
her eyes for a moment in an attempt to regain her composure.
 
When that failed she stepped back towards
her beloved pianoforte for comfort and strength.
 
"You and my family have seen to it that I never will be, no
matter how much I care for him.
 
Instead, you will force your son into a loveless marriage that he does
not want in an attempt to fulfill a promise that you made a very long time ago
to a man who never had a chance to know his son's character.
 
A promise, might I add, that was made well
before Sebastian grew into the man he is now."

"And you think I don't know my
son and what he needs?"
 
Margaret
was indignant now and yet still not angry, as if she was reevaluating Jane herself.
 
"You think I do not care about his
happiness or what he wants?
 
You think I
do not value the promises that I make and whom I make them to?"

Jane chose her next words very
carefully.
 
"I think that, at the
moment, you care more about what you imagine your late husband would want than
what your very-much-alive son does.
 
Including the truth of where his heart lies and how strongly he feels
responsible for those who depend upon him.
 
In many ways, he cares for them more than he cares for
himself."
 
She held up a hand to
stay the countess before the other woman could speak.
 
Strangely, Lady Covington seemed willing to listen.
 
"I also know, through the gossip of
servants, that my father made my mother a similar promise as she lay
dying.
 
He promised that he would find a
new wife, someone to be a mother to the daughter she would leave behind."

"Which he did."
 
Margaret looked rather pointedly at
Jane.
 
"He kept his word."

"He did," Jane agreed,
harnessing her anger rather than allowing it to control her this time, needing
to make the countess understand her point.
 
"He kept his promise, but at what price?
 
He courted and wed a woman who cannot abide me, one who has done
everything within her power to have me banished from my own home.
 
So yes, he kept his promise but it is I who
have paid the price for that promise.
 
And that is something that I know in my heart that my mother would not
have wanted.
 
She would not want a
promise fulfilled at the expense of my happiness.
 
I am just as certain the late earl would not want the same for
his son, either."
 

Jane stepped back again, now fully
in the cocoon of her own, lone candle, her fingertips lightly caressing the
keys of her beloved pianoforte.
 
"Do not force Sebastian to live with the consequences of your actions
or your promise.
 
Once the rift between
you grows, it cannot be undone.
 
It may
heal, but it will never be the same.
 
In
this particular case, I know of what I speak."

Until that moment, Jane hadn't
realized that was how she truly felt, but it was.
 
Deep in her heart, while she might eventually forgive her father
for allowing first Angeline and then later Lizzie to rule her life, nothing
would ever be the same between them.
 
He
might have meant well in the beginning, but Jane had been the one to suffer
from his rash decision to marry the first pretty woman he happened upon.
 
Forgiveness would come, but there would be
no going back to the way things had been.

Now Jane was certain that Margaret
would lash out or perhaps go directly to Jane's father and demand her immediate
removal from Blackstone.
 
She might even
physically strike Jane, though Lady Covington didn't seem the type prone to
physical violence.

Instead, she did none of those
things.
 
Instead, she stood there
studying Jane intently, as if truly seeing her for the first time.
 
Finally, Margaret gripped her candelabra
more firmly, lifting it up so that she might seemingly study Jane's eyes as
well and any truth to be found there.
 
Not that Jane had anything to hide.
 
She had spoken what was in her heart.
 
It was all that she could do.

"You are not what I expected,
Jane Catronia Ashford.
 
Nothing at
all.
 
That puzzles me, and I do not like
puzzles.
 
Not where my son is concerned,
at any rate."

Then, Margaret was gone, whirling
away in a cloud of amethyst silk and diamonds, leaving Jane to stare after her,
uncertain as to what had just happened.

Jane could do nothing but stare
after the woman's retreating back.
 
What
had
just happened?
 
She wasn't
entirely certain.
 
She hadn't meant to
speak her mind but somehow, she had.

She was also mortified.
 
Ladies did not engage in that kind of
behavior.
 
They did not essentially tell
women like the Countess of Covington that they were wrong.
 
That was not how society was run and Jane
knew it.
 
Were she not leaving for
Scotland, she would be cut by every single member of the
ton
once word
got out about her behavior.
 
And she had
no doubt that word would get out.
 
Even
if the countess did not talk, estates like Blackstone had ears - and not all of
them were loyal to Jane or to her late mother.

Slowly, she sank down on the bench
in front of her pianoforte and put her head in her hands.
 
All she could do now was pray that her
father and Angeline did not learn the truth until after tomorrow.
 
She wanted to spend Christmas Eve in her
home, not in some carriage on the Great North Road.

"No one has ever done anything
like that for me before."
 
Sebastian.
 
Jane would know his
voice anywhere, no matter how softly he whispered.
 
At the moment, his voice was so low that had he not come to stand
directly beside her, she would not have heard him.

Jane looked up, tears pricking her
eyes.
 
"I am sorry, Sebastian.
 
I did not mean to speak to her thus.
 
It was not my intention.
 
Rather, it just...happened."
 
There was no excuse for what she had done
and a fresh round of shame washed over her, making her feel guiltier than she
already did.

She was quickly sinking so deeply
into her misery that she did not even notice Sebastian sit down beside her and
grasp her ungloved hand in his.
 
Then
she became aware of the heat of his skin on hers and she looked up, blinking as
if she had just been released from some kind of spell.
 
Perhaps she had been.