At The Stroke Of Midnight (20 page)

Closing her eyes, Jane fought back
tears.
 
"You have no idea what kind
of gift that is to me, that you would risk all for my sake.
 
It is the most wonderful thing that anyone has
ever done for me.
 
But it is also a gift
that I cannot accept.
 
To do so would be
to deny who I am at heart, and, more importantly, deny the kind of man you are.
 
You are better than this, Sebastian.
 
And, in your heart, you know that sometimes,
a person must sacrifice his own needs and wants for his duty."

She was right, of course.
 
She usually was.
 
And Sebastian knew it.
 
Had known it even as he was putting this stupid plan into motion.
 
"The messengers I have sent cannot be
called back."
 
He looked out the
window to where a snowstorm now raged, blinding out any hint of the sun and
plunging the entire countryside into early twilight.

"If I can escape the fate that
awaits me in Scotland, we can deal with the rest."
 
Jane was not about to give up.
 
Far from it.
 
She was simply certain that there had to be another way, even if
it meant becoming his mistress in a year's time after Lizzie had given him an
heir.
 
It was not the choice she would
have made for herself, but it might be the only path left open to her, at least
if she had any hope of having some small piece of Sebastian for herself.

When he pulled her close, this time
she went willingly.
 
"I am
sorry," he whispered into her hair, seeking the solace only she could
provide.
 
"I did not intend to muck
things up.
 
All I wanted was you."

"I know," she replied,
snuggling deeper into his embrace.
 
Somehow, over the last few days, her good intentions had become all
entangled and confused.
 
This was the result.
 
It had to end.
 
Now.
 
It could go no
further.
 
Only she had no idea how to
say that without hurting the man she loved.
 
So she said nothing.
 
Instead,
she simply closed her eyes and listened to the beat of his heart, cherishing
what she knew would be one of the last private moments they would share.

"How excited you must be for
your sister.
 
What with her about to
become betrothed to the earl and soon to be a countess.
 
It is what every woman dreams of!"
 
The older woman, a local baron's wife and
considered by many to be a pillar of propriety in the village, leaned over to
whisper in Jane's ear as the Christmas Eve grand dinner moved along just as it
had been planned.
 
It was all Jane could
do not to choke on her wine.
 
She was
that filled with disgust.
 
Not to
mention hurt.

Instead she maintained her ladylike
posture and offered the woman a stiff, frozen smile, praying that the woman
would not notice the false sentiment behind it.
 
"Of course, my lady.
 
I am beyond thrilled for Elizabeth.
 
She will make a lovely bride."
 
Preferably not Sebastian's bride, though at this point there was little
way to avoid that.
 
"However,
nothing is official yet as the papers have not been signed."

"Oh, nonsense."
 
The old woman waved her hand
dismissively.
 
"That may be for the
moment but by tomorrow at this time, the celebration over the news will have
truly begun, I am certain."
 
Then
she cast a knowing look at Jane, as if she could read every thought as it
passed through the younger woman's mind.
 
"Unless, of course, you wish your sister ill and covet the earl for
yourself?"

The baron's wife was fishing for
information, as was her habit, but Jane would not give it.
 
Yes, she coveted Sebastian and she was
beginning to deeply regret refusing him earlier in the afternoon.
 
However, she was not about to allow this
woman know for one moment the depth of pain that was buried in her heart.

"Not at all."
 
Jane prayed that on this most sacred of
nights, she would not burst into flame for telling a lie.
 
"I am merely cautious in my joy.
 
That is all.
 
It has been my experience that, on occasion, even the most
expected of events do not come to pass.
 
Until an event occurs, it is a bit premature to celebrate it."

Surprisingly, the other woman
nodded in agreement, her eyes softening a bit and losing the hard glitter of one
seeking a juicy bit of gossip.
 
"You are right in your beliefs, of course."
 
She looked down the table to where Jane's
father sat with Lizzie nearby and Sebastian across from her.
 
"Many here believed your mother would
recover after her illness.
 
It was
naught but a fever and a very mild one at that.
 
The doctors who administered to her all expected that she
would."

But she did not.
 
Those words were not spoken, but they did
not need to be.
 
They were simply
understood, another reminder of what Jane had lost.

Nodding stiffly, Jane picked up her
spoon, determined to eat her soup with a minimal amount of further
conversation.
 
"That is true
enough."
 
Then she ate a small bit
of the mushroom soup, normally one of her favorites, and immediately put her
spoon back down beside her plate, unable to take another bite.
 
Tonight, instead of the rich and creamy
burst of flavor she was accustomed to, the concoction tasted almost bitter and
unappealing.

Seeming to sense that Jane did not
wish to discuss the topic further, the woman turned back to her own meal,
leaving Jane to survey the dinner party in peace.

It really was a lovely setting and
perfect for a Christmas celebration.
 
The dining room had been polished to a high shine, the silver nearly
glowing on the table, which was festooned with bright white coverings and bits
of red and green decorations scattered about amongst those gathered for the
house party.

In the center of it all was a tower
of pinecones and greenery that Jane had assembled in a fit of grief that
afternoon after she had left Sebastian in the parlor.
 
She had dusted it with a sparkling concoction of ground glass
that Cook kept for who knew what reason in the kitchen behind some old rags and
polishes.
 
Though, given Cook's German
heritage, any reason was possible.

When the old woman had discovered
Jane sobbing in the butler's pantry that afternoon, she had pulled Jane into a
motherly hug and assured her that everything would eventually fall into place,
and said that Jane needed to believe in the miracles of the season.
 
In her heart, Jane did not believe any such
thing for Sebastian was all but lost to her, but in that moment, she also
needed the comfort of the lie and had allowed Cook to indulge her.
 
After that, Cook had mentioned that Angeline
wanted a lovely centerpiece of greens for the center of the table that evening,
but then, in the same breath, had suggested that perhaps pinecones were
preferable as they were thought in some areas of the world to be magic.
 
Then she had presented Jane with the vial of
ground glass.

At that moment, Jane had wanted to
strike back at Angeline in some small way, some way that would not defy any
social proprieties for she was in enough trouble already, yet would also not
give Angeline precisely what she wanted.
 
Hence, the glass dusted tower of pine cones had been born.

Now it stood in the middle of the
table, and, Jane decided, it did look rather festive when paired with the other
decorations.

Angeline had also instructed the
room to be filled with crystal decanters of every type of spirit available, as
well as made certain that trays piled high with sugared sweetmeats dotted every
free surface.
 
The wall sconces fairly
sparkled with their new cut-crystal coverings that scattered the light about,
making the room appear to be dusted by starlight.

Surrounded by hundreds of
additional candles scattered about the room, not to mention those that glowed
brightly from the four trees that decorated each corner, the entire setting had
a magical, almost fairy tale like quality.
 
One that made Jane want to run and flee the room.

This was a scene designed
specifically for romance and seduction, a place to celebrate happy times and
good fortune to come.
 
None of those
things applied to her and again, she wondered if she had made the correct
choice.
 
Had she done the right thing by
turning down Sebastian's proposal?
 
At
the time, it had seemed to be the only logical, not to mention honorable
choice.
 
Now?
 
Now she was deeply regretting it.

Perhaps a life in exile with
Sebastian
was
preferable to whatever awaited her in Scotland.
 
Especially Laird McKenna.

At least she looked pretty tonight
even though she was perfectly miserable otherwise.
 
There was solace in that, she supposed.

Angeline had insisted that Jane
wear yet another cream-colored gown, while Lizzie fairly glowed in a deep blue
confection of silk and lace that had been delivered from Madame LaVallier's
shop the day before they had departed Town for the countryside.
 
Instead, Jane had shown another small bit of
defiance by selecting the other green gown her father had commissioned for her,
this one a delightful bit of ivy green silk.
 
The bodice was dusted with thousands of crystals, more so than even the
first dress she had worn at Blackstone, and tiny stitches of golden thread
added to the shimmering effect.

The golden thread matched the bit
of gold lace at the bottom, the only ruffle or other adornment the dress had,
save for a rather daring bit of corset-style lacing in the back.
 
It was not scandalous, exactly, but nor was
it the type of gown a proper young lady should wear.
 
Like the dinner setting before her, the gown was meant to seduce.

Jane did not give a fig.
 
When she had looked at herself in the mirror
that night before coming down to dinner, Colleen still fussing with her hair,
Jane had seen a woman suffering from a broken heart.
 
A woman who had turned away the man she loved in a fit of what
could either be described as madness or clarity.
 
Even now, she was not certain which it was.

All she knew was that when the gong
sounded midnight tonight, the little fairy tale she had been indulging in would
be over - if it was not already.
 
Her
time with Sebastian had run out, but unlike in the story, there was no fairy
godmother to save her.
 
Just a family
who would rather her gone from their lives and pretend the past had never
existed.

To further her rebellion that
evening, Jane had paired the gown with her mother's emerald necklace.
 
She had been instructed by Angeline many
times over the years not to wear the jewels, that it was not proper.
 
Well, for tonight, propriety could go hang
as far as Jane was concerned.
 
For this
one moment, she would do as she pleased, and when she felt the cool slide of
the stones about her neck, she knew she had made the right choice.

She had also instructed Colleen to
pull back her hair in a simple but elegant knot and add the remaining emerald
hair comb to her coiffure.
 
Then she had
donned a pair of green and gold dancing slippers made of the finest satin.
 
For once, she would allow herself to shine,
to claim her rightful place as the eldest daughter, even if it was only an
illusion.

What was the worst her family could
do to her?
 
Send her away?
 
They were already doing just that, so why
not be a bit defiant and bend a few rules, if not outright break them?

Just as she had played the
pianoforte for him that night in the music room, Jane was doing this for
Sebastian.
 
All so that he might see her
one time as she truly was and not remember the dowdy creature Angeline would
have her be.

She understood that in his eyes,
she was beautiful just as she was, but in truth, she had never really felt
beautiful.
 
But now?
 
Now Sebastian knew her heart and her mind.
 
Therefore, he would also see and know her as
she should have always been, just once, before she departed.
 
It would be a memory that she could carry
with her as well when she was far from home and those she loved.

Then again, Sebastian had fallen in
love with her when she had been clad in plain, un-interesting gowns and he
readily professed his lack of interest in women's fashions.
 
So perhaps he did not care how she
looked.
 
Though she suspected that deep
inside, he probably did.
 
He was a man
after all, and men, she had learned long ago, were visual creatures.

Now, as if thoughts of him could bring
his attention in her direction, she looked up to find him watching her through
hooded eyes.
 
Eyes that contained barely
banked desire.
 
He still wanted her,
and, God help her, she wanted him.
 
Yet
she had made her choice and in doing so, sealed both of their fates.
 
She was surprised that he did not hate her
for it, but then, he was an honorable man and she was certain that, deep in his
heart, he understood.
 
He might not like
it, but he understood.

As the soup course was removed, not
that Jane had eaten much of it anyway, there was a brief lull in the dinner
conversation, allowing a man several seats away from her to speak up.

"I say, Lady Jane, you must be
excited as well since you are to be departing for Scotland soon.
 
To be married, I understand?"

She stared blankly at the man,
attempting to hide her shock.
 
She could
not remember his name but thought he might be a relative of Rockville's, and
wondered how he had come by his information.
 
The marriage to Laird McKenna was supposed to be a secret.
 
No one, outside of her immediate family, and
Sebastian, of course, should have known of it.

Then Jane risked a glance at
Angeline and knew.
 
Her stepmother had
let the secret out, most likely on purpose.
 
There was no doubt that once the maid from that afternoon had collected
her wits, she had gone running straight to her mistress with the news that Jane
and Sebastian were in the same room.
 
Alone.

"Is that true?" Margaret,
Lady Covington asked with a frown.
 
Then
she turned to Jane's father.
 
"Lord
Devonmont?
 
What is the meaning of
this?"
 
When Angeline moved to
answer, the countess held up her hand, staying her.
 
As Margaret St. Giles was far more powerful than Angeline Ashford
would ever be, Angeline had no choice but to cede this matter to her husband and
allow him to answer.

He wiped his mouth and then put his
napkin down, obviously attempting to gain more time to formulate an appropriate
answer that might please the countess, though Jane had no idea why that would
be necessary.
 
Though that certainly seemed
to be the case.
 
She had seen him do the
same thing often enough when he did not want to answer one of her questions.