Lucinda tugged on her arm.
“Come on,” she said, her usually giggling voice subdued.
Jane accompanied her through the pressing group of people, which had grown to a bigger crowd once word spread about the incident. She fought back tears as they hurried outside to their waiting barouche.
Jeremy was already seated within, his face to the wall. Lucinda sat next to him, and Jane wondered if she’d done it purposely so the colonel wouldn’t have to sit by him. That left the empty spot beside her. Lucinda tucked a rug around Jane’s knees and gave her a tremulous smile.
The door opened again. Without looking at any of them, the colonel sat beside Jane and stared straight ahead, knocking once on the roof to signal the driver. The barouche was cramped for four passengers. When he sat, his thigh pressed alongside hers, and he didn’t bother to move. The heat of his anger traveled across the seat, rippling over her.
I’m sorry
. She willed the message to him in pitiful silence. Lucinda sniffled, and Jeremy’s cloudiness added to the gloom. Jane leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes.
“I’ll ensure he does the honorable thing, Miss Brooke.”
The underlying threat in the colonel’s voice was unmistakable. She fought a sudden outburst of panic.
“That…that won’t be necessary.”
“Of course it is.”
Jeremy gave a short laugh. “You see, Blakeney? She doesn’t want to marry me. Besides, the Brookes have no money not provided by the married sisters, and I’m inclined to marry into a fortune. It’s the only way to escape this wretched place.”
Jane bit her lip to stop the flow of angry words rising in her throat. Lucinda elbowed him in the ribs.
“What a horrible thing to say, brother! You know how much I love her.” She sobbed aloud, burying her face into a handkerchief.
Beneath the rug, the colonel’s hand sought Jane’s icy one and squeezed it until she feared her bones would crack. “You’ll pay for those words, as well as your vulgar behavior, Parker,” he said hoarsely. “You’re not fit enough for any lady, poor or not. If you were to grow up a little first, you might make a suitable partner to a woman not concerned with lack of passion or sense.”
“And what would you know about passion? No woman will have you. You didn’t lose only your arm in Portugal.”
Jane bit her tongue to keep from calling Jeremy the worst word she could think of, which was relatively tame, considering the situation. Beside her, the colonel trembled.
“If you weren’t the son of my dear friend, I would call you out. As it is, I’ll thank you to remember the presence of ladies and to keep your mouth shut.”
Beneath the rug, he pushed Jane’s hand away. She faced the window, even though her neck was soon stiff. Better that, than to have either Jeremy or the colonel see her tears.
They reached the house, and Jeremy clambered out of the barouche before it stopped. The colonel was next, and he waited for the two girls, handing them down while Lucinda expressed concern for him and scorn for her brother.
“That will do for this evening.” His voice sounded heavy.
Jane placed her hand in his to step out of the carriage, and for an instant, their faces were at the same level. Raw pain and anger mingled in his eyes.
“Colonel Blakeney, if I could just explain,” she began, but he deposited her on the ground.
“Good night, ladies.” He tipped his hat and walked away from the house. Jane stared after him, not even trying to hide her misery.
“Where do you think he’s going?”
Lucinda shrugged, wiping her eyes with her gloved fingers. “Probably to the Black Stag. Jeremy and he have clashed before. I don’t understand why. But usually when this happens, Colonel B. will go away for a few days, and when he returns, all is forgotten, and they are friends again.” She took a breath, her pale blue eyes regarding Jane as if she could see into her soul. “Why did you let my brother kiss you? As much as I would love to have you as a sister, I did not think your feelings for him extended beyond friendship.”
The night air penetrated her thin ball gown but Jane ignored her discomfort. She didn’t think she’d ever be warm again. “I did not intend for him to kiss me.”
“Of course, it is none of my concern.” Lucinda’s brows drew together. “Only, I thought you might be in love with someone else.”
Tears chilled Jane’s cheeks. She shook her head. “No. No, I am not.”
Lucinda shrugged and motioned toward the house. “Do let’s go inside, Jane. It’s freezing out here.”
Jane obeyed, but her heart was heavy. How could she have been so foolish, so reckless, to have allowed such a thing to happen? Jeremy Parker meant nothing to her. And the colonel’s
Frederick’s
eyes. The way he’d looked at her, accusing her…
It was as if he didn’t know her at all.
****
Before Lucinda awakened, Jane went downstairs to seek out Colonel Parker. Though she was relieved to find him alone, since speaking in front of Colonel Blakeney was out of the question, she remained troubled by the events from the night before. At least, Jeremy was nowhere in sight. She had no idea what she’d say when she did see him.
Though the lavish buffet was spread with every delectable breakfast treat, she couldn’t eat. She took her seat and cleared her throat. Colonel Parker was engrossed in his newspaper and looked up when she gave a discreet cough.
“I wondered if I may entreat upon your kindness and borrow your carriage so I may return home today.”
“Eh?” He put away his papers and sipped his tea. “Leaving us so soon, are you? And a whole month early, m’dear. Lucinda won’t be pleased at all.” He frowned a little. “I had hoped you would think fondly on my boy. Jeremy can be on the wild side, but the right woman—a gentle sort of girl—would calm him down.”
Her cheeks flooded with a hot blush. Had her mother sent Colonel Parker a suggestive note? The idea would have appealed to her upon first arriving at Everhill, but now she’d seen his true nature, she could not possibly contemplate such an arrangement. Meeting Frederick had certainly lowered Jeremy in comparison.
“I know it’s too soon, but I…I miss my family dreadfully, and my sister is about to finish her confinement.” She constructed the lie as she went along, ashamed she could invent such a tale. True, Amelia was pregnant, but her confinement was nowhere near the end of the month, when Jane was set to return home. Colonel Parker nodded, so she added, “I would just rather leave today.”
She fought rising tears and sniffled into a handkerchief. At first, she was reticent to express emotion in front of him but realized it worked to her advantage.
He patted her hand. “Do not cry. I’m sure your father will forgive your traveling without a proper chaperone, but Reid and Morris will drive you, so it will be all right.”
“Thank you, sir. Did…did Colonel Blakeney come in this morning? I would like to say goodbye to him.”
“He left for London on sudden business. Perhaps you could leave him a message.” He began to rise, but Jane motioned him back to his seat.
“It is nothing, really.” The tears flowed in earnest, and he shot a look toward the door as if hoping for assistance. She dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief. “I wish to thank you for your hospitality.”
“You’re more than welcome. Perhaps Jeremy and Lucinda will pay a visit to Hartleigh in the future.”
He seemed to be waiting for her reaction, so she merely nodded, not resigning herself either way.
Colonel Blakeney was gone. It was probably for the best, since she had displayed none of the maidenly outrage at Jeremy’s behavior the colonel had probably expected. Perhaps he even believed she’d invited Jeremy’s atrocious behavior. She bit her lip to check her tears.
“Thank you, sir. I’m indebted to you.”
He waved the sentiment away, and she knew he would be happier if she left him to his breakfast. She went upstairs to pack her trunk so she could begin her journey as soon as possible. Lucinda was still asleep, and Jane awoke her.
“So you are running away,” Lucinda observed. There was neither censure nor ridicule in her tone.
Jane sat on the corner of the bed and resisted the urge to twist her hands together. “I am not running anywhere. I do not see any purpose of continuing my visit after what happened.” Despite her best efforts to maintain composure, her voice broke.
Lucinda scooted from under the coverlet and wrapped her arms around her. “Never mind about Jeremy! He’s behaved horribly, and I shall never speak to him again.” She kissed her cheek. “But if you go, Jane, what shall I tell poor Colonel B.?”
“Tell him whatever you wish.” She swallowed through the thick lump of tears at the back of her throat. “No doubt, he will be glad of my absence. Last night was…” She shuddered at the memory of Frederick’s humiliation. “Terrible.”
“Oh pooh! No harm was done.” Lucinda climbed off the bed and scampered about the room to dress. “We shall all have a good laugh about it over tea. Colonel B. will most likely laugh the loudest at breakfast.”
“He’s gone back to London.”
“You must write him. All will be well, Jane. I just know it.”
“I’m grateful for your kindness, Lucinda, truly I am. But I would much rather go home.” She deliberately began gathering her clothes from the wardrobe. Lucinda paused in her toilette, her smooth brow furrowed.
“My goodness.” Her eyes widened. “You love him.”
“Jeremy?” Jane could not contain her shudder.
Lucinda giggled. “No. Colonel B.
Frederick
.”
“That’s…that’s ridiculous.” She turned away but it was too late. Lucinda had surely seen her feverish blush. A wayward stocking beneath the bed gave her an excuse to hide, but it was only for a moment. Lucinda regarded her, hands on her hips.
“You should tell him, Jane. Or”—she held up her hand when Jane was about to protest—“allow me to do it. I shall give him the painting I made of you both. It will remind him of your beauty, and he will forget everything else.”
Jane laughed despite her heartache. “I am no beauty, Lucinda. I doubt he will remember me after a week. Goodness knows I wish to put all of this behind me.” Lucinda’s face fell. “Except for the part I spent with you,” she added.
“Why do you not see yourself as beautiful, Jane? Jeremy obviously thinks you are, and Colonel B., as well, if I’m not mistaken. Your figure is not all bumps and curves, and your neck is lovely. You have a very nice smile and eyes. I made a comment last week about their being brown, and Colonel B. said, no, they’re a ‘peaceful hazel color.’ Is that not romantic?”
“Peaceful is not passion.” How could she explain her feelings to Lucinda, who lived a childlike existence beneath her father’s cosseting roof? She trailed her fingers over the blue silk bonnet she’d worn to the sweet shop that wonderful day when she’d held the colonel’s arm. How lovely she’d felt then.
“Well, it is something.” Lucinda held out the bonnet. “You may take this with you, if you like. And the pelisse as well. It will remind you of our time together.”
“You are very kind. Thank you.” The idea of going home suddenly seemed dramatic, but she could not change her mind now and appear ridiculous to her hosts. “You must come and visit Hartleigh. I might even take you to one of our assembly balls.”
Lucinda brightened. “I shall paint your parents. I do wish to paint a fat old woman. Is your mother plump?”
Her mother would box her ears for saying so, but Jane gave Lucinda what she wanted. “As plump as the cushion on your father’s chair.”
Lucinda’s eyes glowed as she discussed her plans to visit Jane. While they packed her trunk, Jane kept up with Lucinda’s lively conversation, but her heart and thoughts were miles away.
With Frederick, on the road to London.
Chapter Twelve
“We’re to have a guest for supper, my dear.” Mr. Brooke said to his wife, who sat by the window, hemming a baby dress.
A small pile of finished baby gowns, mittens, and caps lay folded in a basket beside her chair. Jane had assisted, but after a few disastrous attempts, her mother had irritably asked her to play something.
Mrs. Brooke sniffed. “And with no deliveries from the butcher today! Well, I hope it’s not one of Mr. Shelbourne’s stuffy friends stopping on the way to town. Our house is not an inn. He can have fish pie for his dinner, and good luck to him.”
Jane gave her father a sympathetic smile. He rolled his eyes and walked to where she sat at the pianoforte, idly picking out a tune and transcribing her results. It was all she’d done since returning from Shropshire two weeks before. Mercifully, her parents hadn’t questioned her too deeply about why she’d returned so soon, although her mother seemed disappointed she’d come back unattached to Jeremy. Jane gave a vague answer about the air not agreeing with her, and her mother, prone to hay fever and an assortment of ailments herself, did not press further.
Her father cleared his throat. “I think you know him, Jane.”
She looked up from her notations, which she had been doing with only half an interest. Her thoughts always lay elsewhere, settled deeply on Colonel Blakeney.
“Yes, Papa?”
Mrs. Brooke looked up, her round eyes even wider. “What business would our Jane have, knowing one of Mr. Shelbourne’s friends?”
“I never said it was a friend of Mr. Shelbourne. As it turns out, our guest is from Shropshire.”