Claiming the Chaperon's Heart (16 page)

She smiled and murmured her thanks, holding the roses delicately to her nose to smell their scent, but could not say what was in her heart and, despite his compliments and his attentions to her that evening, he did not say the words that would make it possible for her to open her heart to him.

The play was a comedy by Sheridan and well received by the audience, and the music and dancing that followed was pleasant. It was only as they were leaving the theatre after the performance that Jane’s gaze was drawn to a lady and gentleman she knew: Lady Catherine and, with her as her escort, Captain Hershaw. She had no other chaperon and that seemed odd since she was engaged to be married to another gentleman.

Captain Hershaw seemed unaware of her but Lady Catherine saw her and her eyes narrowed, a look of something that could only be dislike or anger in her eyes. Jane inclined her head slightly and was given a frosty nod in return, but then Paul spoke and Jane turned to him. When she turned back the pair had gone, mingling with the crowd as the theatre emptied.

The four of them ate supper together in a discreet restaurant and enjoyed each other’s company, Sarah and Will seeming to find a great deal to talk and laugh about. On being told that Melia and Captain Smythe were not to be of the party, Jane’s brother had decided to accompany them after all.

‘Your cousin is a pleasant girl,’ Paul said softly when the other two were laughing at some jest of their own. ‘Your brother seems happier than he was a few weeks ago.’

‘How observant of you,’ Jane replied in the same hushed tone. ‘I think they like each other but it is early days yet, of course.’

‘Of course.’ Paul looked into her eyes with such longing that her heart caught. ‘Would that I was free to follow my heart, Jane. I long to speak but I may not for the moment. Indeed, it would have been wiser had I not come at all this evening, but I could not forgo the pleasure of being with you...forgive me if I seem reluctant to be plain, but I may not speak openly yet.’

‘You do seem to speak in riddles,’ Jane said and frowned, for she did not care for this mystery. ‘If something troubles you, I would be happy to listen.’

‘You are everything that is lovely and precious to me,’ Paul told her. ‘Yet I have good reason to keep my silence—but know that I care for you deeply. If I could I would ask you to be my wife.’

What impediment could there be to his asking her to be his wife if he really wished for it? Jane was puzzled but, even though her honest nature would have preferred things to be plain, she sensed that his secret was something he felt unable to share with her.

She touched his hand. ‘I see that you are sorely troubled, my friend. I must tell you that I value your friendship and perhaps more, but if there is some barrier...’ She was puzzled for he seemed so strange.

‘One that I hope may soon be overcome,’ Paul replied and pressed her fingers. ‘Now, may I order more champagne?’

‘No more for me. I think perhaps we should be leaving.’ She looked across the table, catching her brother’s eyes. ‘Are we ready to leave, Sarah—Will?’

‘Yes, quite ready,’ Sarah said. ‘It has been an exciting day and I grow a little tired.’

It was agreed that they should leave and Lord Frant called for his account and asked that the carriage should be brought round. Sarah and Will seemed content and did not say much as they were driven home but, after they had gone in, Jane asked if Paul would care for a nightcap before he left.

‘Just for a moment in private,’ he said and followed her into a small parlour, but, as she would have rung for brandy, he stayed her hand. ‘Now that Melia will no longer be with you, I must visit her aunt and make arrangements for the contract for her marriage—and then perhaps I may visit you at home?’

‘Yes, certainly you may, Lord Frant. I have already asked Will to invite you for the shooting in September, but if you wish you may call at any time.’

‘I would hope to be with you before the month is out,’ Paul told her. ‘I can only pray that circumstances are more favourable by then...’

‘Yet you will not tell me why you are troubled?’

‘Jane, my love...’ He reached out and drew her against him, looking down into her face for a long moment before he kissed her, softly at first and then with increasing passion. She felt a little shudder run through him as though he controlled his passions. ‘I love you beyond reason, have done so since we first met—but I dare not ask you to be my wife until this business is finished...’

Jane felt herself melting into him as he held her close, her lips still warm and tingling from the passion of his kiss. ‘I believe that I have come to love you, Paul,’ she whispered. ‘I did not think it could happen again but, though it is different this time, I know that I care deeply for you.’

‘Oh, Jane, my love, I adore you,’ Paul said and now she could not doubt it for she saw his love for her blazing in his eyes. ‘I vowed to keep my distance to hold you safe, but how can I not speak now when my heart cries out for it? I want you for my wife, Jane—will you be mine, sweet love?’

‘Yes, I will marry you—if it is what you truly wish.’

‘I wish for it with all my heart, yet I must ask you that our love remains secret for a time—will you do that for me? Will you trust me, Jane? I think it better for your peace of mind that you do not know all my reasons, but hope that you will believe in my sincerity and wait until I can come to you freely.’

‘Yes, if you wish it,’ she said, for how could she refuse? She was swept away on a tide of happiness. ‘I know there must be a good reason for what you do...’

‘Believe me when I say I ask for your discretion only because I love you and seek to protect you from those who might seek to harm me through you. I have an enemy, Jane, and, though I am almost certain of his identity, I cannot name him yet.’

‘Then I shall tell no one; even my brother and Sarah shall remain in ignorance.’

‘Thank you, dearest Jane.’ He kissed her softly. ‘I shall treasure your promise and will return tomorrow after luncheon to bring you a token of my love...and now I must leave you.’

Jane smiled and kissed his lips and then allowed him to leave her. She was lost in a sweet dream as she walked up the stairs to her own bedchamber. Paul loved her and she knew that she loved in return. The future looked bright, for surely this time she would not be robbed of her happiness...

Leaving her, Paul felt a flickering of unease. He had meant not to speak openly yet of his feelings for Jane. Indeed, it would have been better for her sake if he had not taken her to the theatre—but he had needed to see her and then when she’d smiled his feelings had overcome him. He could only pray that his weakness in speaking would not endanger her safety. Yet surely what had passed between them was unlikely to reach the ears of his enemy...

* * *

Jane went shopping in the morning for some items she had remembered she would need when they got home. Paul was not coming until the afternoon and so she seized the last chance she might have to visit various establishments.

On her return she glanced through the visiting cards on the silver salver in the hall, a little surprised to find one from Lady Catherine. Flipping it over, she saw an urgent message.

I must see you privately. Please come to tea at my house this afternoon. I have something I must tell you.

Catherine Radcliffe

Jane stared at the message, frowning over it, for she could not understand why the lady should need to see her urgently. They knew one another but could never have been called friends and Jane had thought the other woman disliked her... But stay, perhaps she feared that Jane would speak of what she’d seen on leaving the theatre the previous evening. The young woman had clung to Captain Hershaw’s arm, fluttering her lashes at him and flirting with him—at least until she became aware of Jane’s gaze.

Paul meant to call that afternoon and Jane had no intention of perhaps missing him by answering Lady Catherine’s summons. She did not wish for private conversation with someone she did not particularly care for. Instead, she would write and tell her that she was too busy to call that day but would be at home the next morning if Lady Catherine wished to see her.

She sent her letter off and spent the time during luncheon talking to Melia of her plans to leave London the next day with Miss Smythe and her brother, and discussing with Sarah any errands that needed doing before they too left London.

Will had promised to take Sarah driving and they left the house soon after the meal was finished. Melia went upstairs to write a letter to her aunt in her room and Jane retired to her parlour to wait for Paul’s arrival.

He came at three, looking distinguished in a blue coat, long riding boots and pale breeches, his hat of beaver and bearing a silver buckle at the front. His gloves were of finest leather, his linen pristine and he looked every inch the wealthy gentleman about town.

Jane rose to receive him, holding out her hands. Paul took them and kissed them, and then handed her a flat red leather box. When she opened it she saw a beautiful diamond necklace.

‘This is lovely, Paul,’ she said. ‘But we are not formally engaged; I ought not to accept it.’

‘I have ordered a ring to be made, and perhaps tomorrow you could visit the jeweller and have your finger sized,’ he said. ‘The necklace was my mother’s, given her by her father when she married and passed to me when she died. I know she would like you to have it, dearest Jane.’

‘Thank you, I shall treasure it,’ Jane said and closed the box. She looked up at him. ‘I wish I understood why we cannot speak of our engagement to the world.’

‘Forgive me—I want to shout it to the rooftops. I ought not to have spoken until these matters were settled, but I have waited too long already and feared to lose your regard. Please try to understand, Jane—it is difficult...’

‘Hush, you do not need to tell me,’ Jane said, making up her mind that she must trust him. ‘You have your reasons and I accept that we must wait...’

‘You fill my heart with joy every time I look at you,’ he said and moved to take her in his arms and kiss her once more. ‘I love you, Jane, and I want to marry you—as soon as it is...possible.’

She sensed that he had almost spoken a different word and wondered at it, but to question every word would show a lack of faith and she let the moment pass. Paul had told her that he loved her and she must accept and believe.

‘Then I shall wait patiently for you to come to me,’ she said and smiled up into his eyes.

‘Tomorrow I have business I must see to,’ Paul said, ‘and the day after I leave for the country to visit Melia’s aunt. I must see the date for the wedding set and talk contracts with her aunt and her husband-to-be—and by then you will be in the country. I may be able to call on you again tomorrow for a few minutes, but cannot be certain, so do not wait in for me.’

‘Come if you can,’ Jane said. ‘You will stay to take tea with me now? Melia will be down shortly, though Sarah and Will have gone for a drive and will not be back until later.’

‘Yes, I shall stay. I wish I had no engagements for this evening, but there are people I must see and I am engaged to dine with Major Harding...’

‘Ah, yes, I believe he stayed in the country with you when you were last there?’

‘Yes—and I was very glad to have him. If he had not...’ Paul shook his head. ‘I may have been wrong to ask you to tell no one of our understanding, Jane. You should feel free to tell your cousin and Will...perhaps your mama, if you wish? Yet it would be better if it went no further than your immediate family.’

‘My brother and Sarah,’ Jane said and smiled. ‘I do not think Mama needs to know at this time because she would swear to keep it private and then tell everyone—and nor does Melia. She is a friend but no more and...she might not keep our secret.’

‘No, she might not,’ Paul agreed. ‘I shall speak to your brother when I visit you at your home.’

‘Yes, he will expect it,’ Jane said. ‘I am of an age to please myself in the matter of marriage, but my brother would think it a courtesy, I know.’

‘I shall have your ring when I come down,’ Paul said, ‘but...’ He broke off as Jane shook her head and realised that they were no longer alone. Turning, he saw Melia standing just inside the door.

‘Forgive me,’ Melia said. ‘I did not wish to intrude, Jane, but I thought you might be waiting tea for me.’

‘And so we were,’ Jane said, smiling at her. ‘Please come and sit down, my dear, and I shall ring for tea. Lord Frant wanted to speak to you, I believe. He intends to follow you down to the country in order to speak to your aunt about the wedding preparations...’

‘Yes, I am sure my aunt will wish to discuss them with you, sir,’ Melia said, but she did not look at him and Jane thought there was a sulky look about her mouth again, almost as if she had begun to regret her promise to wed Captain Smythe.

Chapter Thirteen

J
ane was writing letters in her private parlour the next morning when the door was suddenly thrust open and Lady Catherine walked in, followed by a harassed maid, who apologised to Jane.

‘Milady insisted, ma’am,’ she said. ‘I asked her to wait but...’

‘It’s all right, Tilly,’ Jane said calmly. ‘You may go. I was expecting Lady Catherine...’ She stood up and greeted her guest with a smile and extended hand. ‘I am pleased to see you, Lady Catherine.’

‘Are you?’ the other woman said rudely. ‘I quite expected to be refused entry after your note.’

‘Forgive me, I expected guests and could not come to meet you, as you asked.’

‘You might be sorry that you did not. I’ve been told your guest was Lord Frant—and when you hear what I have to tell you, you may wish you had not been at home to receive him.’

Jane was puzzled. ‘I’m sorry. I have no idea what you mean.’

‘Have you not heard the latest gossip concerning Lord Frant?’ Lady Catherine’s eyes gleamed with spite. ‘I know you two have been close so perhaps that is why you have not been told...’

‘Told what?’ Jane asked, her gaze narrowed. She had coldness at her nape and knew that she would not care for whatever it was that this woman had come to tell her.

‘You may think Frant intends marriage,’ the lady said and a cruel smile played over her mouth as she taunted, ‘but you shall be sadly disappointed if you hope to be his wife. No decent woman could consent to marry him now...’

Jane’s fists clenched at her sides, but she refused to be drawn. Lady Catherine had come here hotfoot to tell her this news but Jane would not press her.

‘Don’t you want to know?’ The other woman laughed. ‘Oh, you think yourself so secure—but I had this from Lady Moira, and she has been in his confidence...as well as from other lips...’

‘Lady Moira was to have been Miss Bellingham’s chaperon but Melia chose to stay with me. I do not see what you think so amusing in this...’

‘Lady Moira told me herself. She was shocked when she heard it and confronted him, for she would never have agreed to chaperon the girl in the first place if she’d known...’

‘Melia is a perfectly respectable young lady,’ Jane said, feeling angry; although the girl had hurt Will she would not allow her character to be besmirched.

‘It is not the girl but Lord Frant himself...’ Lady Catherine’s eyes gleamed with malice as she chose her words with deliberate spite. ‘Lady Moira has been told by someone who knows the facts that he was married to a girl...a half caste Indian whore...’

‘Ridiculous!’ Jane said. ‘Paul would never...’ Her words stuck in her throat because Paul had spoken of circumstances that prevented his announcing their engagement or marrying her. ‘He couldn’t be married to a girl of that class...’

‘Oh, she isn’t of the lower class,’ Lady Catherine said with great satisfaction. ‘Her mother was the daughter of an earl but she became an Indian prince’s concubine and her daughter is a whore—she gave birth to Lord Frant’s child soon after he left India. It seems she claims he wed her in secret and she named him as her child’s father...’

‘No, I do not believe you,’ Jane said. She refused to believe the other woman’s spiteful words; they must be spoken out of malice, for there was no other reason to come here and speak so to her. ‘Paul does not have a wife or...a child...’

She looked proudly at Lady Catherine. ‘I do not know what you hoped to gain by coming here this morning, but you have failed if you believed I would listen to your lies. I do not know the truth of the matter, but I am certain Lord Frant would not have left his wife in India, nor would he have kept her existence a secret.’

‘Men are all deceivers,’ Lady Catherine said coldly. ‘You may believe what you wish, Lady March—but I have been your friend in this by coming here. People are whispering about the way he is received here. You have no chaperon and you have been to his house with just his ward. Some say you are his mistress—a single gentleman and you still too young to be a true chaperon to any girl...’

‘I hope I know Lord Frant well enough to be certain that it is perfectly proper for his ward and her chaperon to visit during the morning hours.’ Jane raised her head proudly. ‘We were hardly alone, for there were servants present. You will please leave my house, Lady Catherine. I have no wish to continue this conversation.’

‘You will learn soon enough,’ the other woman said. ‘Be careful that you do not lose your reputation in the meantime. Believe me when I say that several ladies believe you to be his mistress. If you continue this way you may find you are not welcome everywhere, as you have been in the past.’

Jane took a step towards her. She was seething with anger and wanted to slap Lady Catherine’s sneering face but held her temper in check, her hands clenched at her sides.

‘Leave now or I shall ring for a footman to escort you from the house.’

‘I’m leaving...’ The other woman laughed scornfully. ‘At least I know what I’m getting when I marry. I shall give the marquis an heir and take as many lovers as I choose—but I shall not be fool enough to lose either my heart or my reputation...’

Jane stood frozen to the spot as Lady Catherine swept from the room. Tears were burning her eyes but she refused to let them fall, despite her humiliation. She stood motionless for some minutes and then sank down to her chair. It couldn’t be true—Paul could not have a wife in India and a child...

He would not have spoken to her of love if that were the case. She could not believe him so false and yet...he had begged her to keep their attachment secret for the moment. He had seemed so strange but she’d thought he was telling her his own life might be at risk when he’d spoken of an enemy.

Slowly, the tears began to trickle down her cheeks. For a while she left them unchecked, but then she dashed them away. She would not let Lady Catherine’s spite hurt her because she believed it arose from jealousy. The night they’d all met on the balcony at the duchess’s ball, Jane had seen something in the other woman’s eyes. Lady Catherine had tried to make Paul notice her that night but he hadn’t; his eyes had been only for Jane, and that would have aroused the other woman’s ire. She was used to attention and to getting what she wanted—but was that enough to make her come to Jane with a vicious rumour?

That was all it could be—just a rumour. Paul loved her, Jane, and he would never do anything to hurt her...and yet he had told her that he was not yet free to wed her...

Might it be that he needed to free himself of a wife he no longer cared for? No, no, that was dishonourable and cruel and Jane could not love a man who would treat a woman who loved him thus.

Getting to her feet, Jane went slowly from the room. The housekeeper called to her as she began her ascent of the stairs but she did not answer. She needed a little time alone in the privacy of her bedroom.

* * *

‘Thank God I caught you before you left,’ Major Harding said. Paul was dressed for visiting and on the point of leaving to keep his promise to Jane. He’d had little time for anything these past few days, but intended to spend the afternoon with her, even if it meant he left some work undone.

‘Something wrong?’ Paul asked with a lift of his brows. ‘I was just on my way to visit Lady March. You could walk with me if you chose.’

‘I think you need to hear this,’ his friend said, ‘and in private—it’s being whispered of all over town. A scurrilous lie, I am sure, but you should hear it, if only to be prepared...’

Paul sat down and invited the major to sit, but he continued to stand, looking uncomfortable.

‘They say you have a wife...and she a royal bastard of mixed blood...in India. Apparently she had a child soon after you left and named you as the father. She claims to have married you in secret...’

‘That is a lie,’ Paul said but felt as if a jug of cold water had been thrown over him. ‘Annamarie is not my wife—and I have never lain with her. The invitation was there but never taken up.’

‘I have no doubt you speak the truth, but you know what the gossips will make of such a tale as this...’ Jack Harding hesitated. ‘Unfortunately, it is not the worst of what they are saying...’

‘Go on,’ Paul said grimly. ‘Get it out, man.’

‘They are linking Lady March’s name with yours and whispering that she has been too free, visiting your house without a proper chaperon and allowing you access to hers... They begin to hint that she is your mistress...’

‘Damn their wicked tongues to hell!’ Paul said furiously and jumped to his feet. ‘I care little for what they say of my having a wife in India. It is not true and I can prove it—though if Annamarie had a child it would be harder to prove I was not the father...’ He struck one fist into the other. ‘I should like to strangle whoever started the rumours...’

‘Lady Moira told me what people were saying. She pretended not to believe it, but there was something about her manner...’

‘I thought her a friend, but when I told her that I no longer needed her services for Melia she was angry—but I cannot think she made up the tale. How would she know of Annamarie? No, someone who knew me in India has done this...’

‘We knew you had an enemy. He has tried to kill or injure you three times now. Once on the way home from Newmarket, in Ireland—and again in the country, when your saddle was tampered with...’

‘Fortunately, you suspected something and discovered it before we went riding that day...’ Paul was thoughtful. ‘Yes, we knew I had an enemy who wanted me dead—but this is different. It is spiteful and meant to hurt another as much as I...’

‘Yes, I detect a woman’s hand in this,’ his friend said. ‘Which lady have you so mortally offended?’

‘I have no idea,’ Paul said. ‘I knew Lady Moira was not pleased to be told she was not needed as Melia’s chaperon—but there is no one else...’ He paused, his gaze narrowed and thoughtful.

‘You have thought of someone?’

‘Lady Catherine...’ Paul said. ‘I thought it of no importance, but she did make the attempt to engage my interest on more than one occasion. I greeted her politely but could not give her the attentions she craved.’

‘Lady Catherine is a flirt and proud, too spoiled for her own good. Yet how would she know of this girl in India?’

‘I do not see how she could—unless...’ Paul stared at him. ‘I saw her the other evening at the theatre with Hershaw.... He followed me from India by the next ship, I think...’

‘Then I think we have our answer.’ Jack smiled grimly. ‘Adam is in Ireland and could not have tampered with your saddle—and he certainly has not been seen in town with Lady Catherine.’

‘Yes, I begin to think I wronged Adam even to consider that he meant me harm,’ Paul said. ‘It was something Melia said to me... I thought he had told her lies and that made me believe he might have had a hand in the bungled shooting...’

‘Your ward? She has no cause to hate you or spread malicious rumours?’

‘No sensible cause, though she thinks I did not give her a large enough dowry—or she did, but now she is to marry someone else and has forgot she ever wanted Hargreaves...’

‘Then I think we should concentrate our efforts on Hershaw,’ Jack said and Paul nodded.

‘He is the most likely to be behind this latest attempt to bring me harm. Three attempts to kill me have failed, and now he thinks to ruin me by casting filth on my reputation. I shall find a way of letting it be known that I am not married and the child is not mine.’

‘I doubt you will be believed, as far as the parentage of the child is concerned,’ Jack warned him. ‘The men will not blame you for that—but the women may not wish to welcome you as warmly as they did.’

‘It is Lady March I think of,’ Paul said. ‘If it were not for the whispers concerning her, I should ignore them and let them do their worst.’

‘Yes, it is her reputation that I care for too,’ Jack said grimly. ‘I shall do my best to scotch the rumours, believe me.’

‘Thank you, my friend. I care not for the wagging tongues of spiteful women—but I would not have Jane hurt for all the world and, as for the other business, I think we must lay a trap for my enemy...’

* * *

Jane washed her face and changed into a walking gown of dark green, which she wore with a velvet bonnet tied with ribbons to match her gown. A silk shawl was draped over her shoulders. She had refused luncheon, telling her housekeeper that she had a headache and asking to be left alone, but now she needed to go out in the fresh air. Sarah would accompany her if she wished it, but Jane needed to be alone.

Sitting on her bed had not served. She was in too much agitation to settle or sleep, and now her head really had started to ache. One thing she was certain of: she could not receive Paul that afternoon if he called—so she must make her escape and give herself time to think before she spoke with him again.

He would no doubt wonder why she had gone out rather than receiving him as she had expected to do, but Jane did not feel like asking the questions that raced through her mind. Paul had spoken of love and trust and she wanted to trust him, but it was difficult to forget the gleam in Lady Catherine’s eyes. Clearly, she had enjoyed passing on the shameful gossip—for if Paul had deserted his Indian wife when she was carrying his child, he had behaved badly.

Yet would he have spoken to her of marriage if the stories were true? Jane could not believe it, but her treacherous mind would not let it go. She loved him and she ought to trust him, because with love came trust—and if it did not could it be true love?

Leaving the house, Jane told her footman that she would be back in time for tea. She did not want her family to worry if they discovered her room empty, but she wanted neither company nor sympathy and she was afraid that her emotions would show too easily. She felt as if her heart would break because she was tortured by her doubts.

What had Paul meant when he said he was not free to marry her yet? He wanted her, loved her, but he had asked her to keep their understanding secret—what honourable man would do that?

The thoughts kept going round and round in her head and she could find no answers to her questions. She wanted to believe that his reasons were honest and that he was not the man Lady Catherine had implied
. Her
motive was easy to read, Jane thought. She’d wanted Paul for herself. Although promised to a man much older and with a respected title, she would have jilted him, had the opportunity arisen for her to marry a man as wealthy as Paul. He might not have the marquis’s title but he had youth and strength and his fortune was vast, so it was said... Yes, Jane could think of reasons why both Lady Moira and Lady Catherine might want to spread poisonous lies...but why had Paul wanted to keep their engagement a secret?