The Promise (25 page)

Oblivious to the libidinous nature of his thoughts, Jane graciously took his arm and he led her to the dining room.

Although not a common practice in Society, it was a Wallace family tradition to include children at meals when not entertaining guests.

“Sit where you will,” Cameron said as he took his place at the head of the table. His mother took a spot on his left and Pip on his right. Rather than sit at the far end, Finn pulled out a chair for Jane next to Pip, then circled around the table to sit next to his mother.

He enjoyed the view. Jane’s gown was the perfect foil for her delicate bone structure. He recognized his mother’s jewelry and felt a surge of anticipation that Jane would soon be wearing his gifts. A gold parure of yellow sapphires surrounded by diamonds and Pip’s brooch were tucked into his pockets.

He planned to wait for the right moment to surprise them both.

Dinner was excellent and Jane was aware that each member of her new family was doing their best to put her at ease. Cameron and Finn verbally sparred in a manner she was beginning to recognize as affectionate, although to an outsider it would probably appear mildly antagonistic. Their banter made her think of her childhood friends, Gertie and Roland Haddon, the closest thing she had to siblings.

Jane contributed little to the conversation as Rutledge and Finn debated political issues. The duchess discussed clothing or people and events with which she was unfamiliar. During a lull in the conversation, Jane broached the subject of visiting her family.

“Do you think it would be possible to use one of the carriages to visit my Aunt Lisette one day soon?” Jane wasn’t sure whether she should ask the Duke or Finn, so she glanced quickly at both before settling her gaze on her husband.

Finn’s surprise was obvious. “Of course. I’m sure Cam would be happy to lend his new brougham, or we could go in my carriage. It is less ostentatious, but just as comfortable, I think.” He shot a teasing glance at his brother. “I’m not one for excessive pomp and circumstance, unlike some.”

Jane wondered if he had mistakenly used the word “we” — she hadn’t anticipated any interest on Finn’s part.

“Where does your aunt live?” the duchess asked.

“Within a few miles of Hampshire and Sussex. I’ll write to her tonight. She will be overjoyed to learn I am well.”

“I don’t wish to pry, Jane, but I confess a great deal of curiosity about how you came to live as you did,” the duchess said. “I had assumed you had no family to whom you could turn, but that was clearly not so,” the duchess asked.

“It is a tale best left for another day,” Jane said, giving Pip a significant glance. “I can tell you my Papa doted on me and I was dreadfully spoiled,” Jane said in an effort to change the subject.

The duchess patted Jane’s hand. “I cannot imagine that you were ever spoiled.”

“I assure you, I was a wretched child. My governess and tutor would happily testify to all sorts of naughty misconduct on my part. I was overly fond of having my own way and dodged my lessons at every turn. My friends and I challenged each other to dangerous feats of derring-do that usually ended with tattered clothing and one or all of us coated in mud or even less fragrant substances,” Jane chuckled.

“What naughty things did you do Mama?” Pip asked eagerly. “Tell us a story.”

“I’m certain your grandmother and uncles have no desire to listen to tales from my girlhood.”

“Quite the contrary,” Finn said in his deep voice, his eyes sparking with interest. “Like my mother, I can’t imagine you involved in any sort of mischief. Make sure to tell us a good one... I’ll be disappointed if your idea of scandalous behavior is that you once refused to eat all of your peas.”

She wrinkled her nose. “As it happens, I detest peas, but I think I can come up with something more entertaining than that. Hmmm. Let’s see.” She searched her memory for a tale that would amuse Pip.

“The Haddon twins, Roland and his sister Gertrude, were my loyal partners in crime. Their father was a baronet who lived on a neighboring estate. He often traveled with his wife to London leaving Roland and Gertie to their own devices. They were wonderfully wild and completely unsupervised. I envied them their freedom in the worst way,” Jane said with a wistful smile.

“As the old chestnut goes, while the cat’s away, the mice will play. For the purposes of this story, I am not sure if the mice represent the housekeeper and butler who ignored the twins while their employers were gone, or my playmates who took full advantage of that lack of oversight. Either way, I was inconsolable every time Roland regaled me with adventures I was unable to share because I was more closely supervised. It didn’t seem fair.”

Pip looked sympathetic. “I would have been jealous, too.”

Finn was captivated by the way Jane’s eyes sparkled as she told her story. She was quick to smile, or to make a silly face for Pip’s amusement. He suspected she exaggerated her “misdeeds” to make them more entertaining, and her efforts did not go unrewarded. Pip and the duchess were engrossed in her story, and even his brother leaned forward in his seat to listen, a vague smile softening his features.

“Roland’s hair was thick and curly and orange as a carrot. Lady Haddon hated to see it cut, and it often grew past his shoulders before Sir Haddon would finally notice and take scissors to it. He had light blue eyes, the type one so often sees with redheads, and a thousand impish freckles. His outside perfectly matched the roguish sprite he was on the inside.”

“And Gertie? What did
she
look like Mama?” Pip propped her elbows on the table and rested her face in her palms.

“Gertie was a beauty. She was very fair, with long blonde hair and the pure, sweet face of an angel. Whenever we were caught in one prank or other, she would somehow make her eyes look huge then she would glance about as if confused and unaware of what was happening. She was the very picture of innocence and often escaped punishment while Roland and I labored to undo whatever damage our mischief had wrought.”

“That’s not fair!” Pip protested. “Why didn’t you tell on her so she would have to help?”

“That would have gone against our strict code of ethics. Besides, it was good to have a ‘man on the outside’… someone to smuggle cake and lemonade to us when we were banished to the nursery.”

Pip giggled. “Still, it isn’t fair that she let you do all the work.”

“We still have not heard any details of bad behavior,” Finn prompted.

“Yes. Well, as I said, the twins were always game for any dare or challenge. One fine fall morning when I was nine or ten, I awoke to the sound of pebbles bouncing off my window. Gertie and Roland, of course. I pretended illness so my lessons would be cancelled.”

“You did?” Pip asked with a mix of awe and admiration. “Were you not afraid to be punished for lying?”

“I thought of it as ‘pretending’ at the time. I must have done it a bit brown because unbeknownst to me, my father rode off in search of the village doctor.”

“Roland and I were crazy about the American West… frontier wagon trains, cowboys and Indians… that sort of thing. We painted our faces to look like proper savages,” she made a grim face at Pip who giggled.

“Roland hitched a hay wagon to a donkey, and all morning we had great fun circling it and pretending to attack settlers. Then he lit an arrow on fire and shot it into the cart. Dry hay inside began to smolder. The donkey scented smoke and galloped off. The faster it ran, the higher the flames shot into the air. Finally, the hitch burned through and the wagon smashed into the gatehouse. To our horror, it caught fire.”

“I must admit, this is far more exciting than refusing to eat your vegetables,” Finn laughed.

“At that moment my father appeared at the end of the lane with Doctor Gibson. By the time grooms and footmen came running with buckets of water, it was too late. Gertie, Roland, and I sat on our ponies in our war bonnets and face paint watching it burn.”

Jane’s expressive face conveyed every emotion. She was an open book and that quality fascinated Finn. In the
ton
refinement and reserve were synonymous, to betray strong emotion was considered outré; sophisticated ladies exhibited ennui, not enthusiasm. Jane was guileless and natural unlike most jaded woman of his acquaintance.

“My father reined in next to me and said the funniest thing,” Jane said, her eyes laughing.

She paused for dramatic effect until Pip prompted, “What did he say, Mama?”

“I see you are fully recovered, Jane.”

The duchess and her sons laughed. “Your father must have loved you very much.”

“Yes, and I adored him. He never said another word to me about the gatehouse except to remark that he had been planning to replace it with a stone structure anyway.”

“What a wonderful story! Could it possibly be true?” the duchess asked.

Jane crossed her heart with one hand and raised the other in the air. “Every word.”

“You are a gifted storyteller, Jane,” Justine said.

“I couldn’t afford to buy books for Pip and it was often difficult to get away to the lending library, so I suppose I honed my storytelling skills out of necessity,” Jane said.

Jenny arrived to take Pip upstairs. Before she left, Pip circled around the table and gave Jane a hug. “Goodnight, Mama. I love you.”

“And I love you,” Jane said, rubbing noses with Pip who hugged her grandmother and uncles before following Jenny from the room.

“Wait, Pip. I have a surprise for you,” Finn called her back and reached into the pocket of his waistcoat, withdrawing a small box tied with a pink ribbon. “I saw this in a jeweler’s window and thought of you. It’s a little gift to celebrate becoming one family.”

Pip tugged off the ribbon and lid. She emitted a high-pitched squeal and held the jewel-encrusted crab up in the air for everyone to admire. The stones glittered in the candlelight. She launched herself at Finn’s neck and hugged him fiercely. “Thank you Uncle Finn… Papa. I will never take it off. Never, ever.”

“Uncle Finn Papa has a certain ring to it,” he chuckled and kissed her temple. Finn glanced up to find Jane watching him with a tender expression. He smiled at her over Pip’s head. That now familiar spark danced between them, forging a sense of intimacy as memories of their passionate encounter fairly sizzled in the air.

After Pip settled down, she circled the table to dispense another round of hugs and kisses while Jenny waited patiently.

“That was very thoughtful,” Jane said softly after Pip was gone.

“ ’Twas but a small token of my affection,” Finn said modestly, but his chest tightened in response to her praise. He stood and dropped his napkin on the table then walked around to help Jane rise. Cameron did the same for his mother.

“I am for bed,” the duchess covered a yawn as they reached the hall.

“And I will compose that letter to Aunt Lisette.”

“Care to join me for port in the library or would you rather a nightcap at Boodle’s?” Cameron asked Finn.

WITH POLITE FAREWELLS, the foursome parted at the foot of the stairs. Jane and the duchess made their way to their suites while the gentlemen retired to the library.

Finn hid his frustration beneath a cool façade. He wanted to spend the rest of the evening with Jane, but he couldn’t think of an artful way to arrange it, especially when she’d already announced her intention to write to her aunt. He smiled inwardly, imagining her response if he asked her bluntly for what he wanted.

Invite me upstairs, Jane. I would like very much to tease you until you smile, flirt with you until you blush, listen to more stories about your childhood, pick up where we left off!

But such honesty wouldn’t do, of course. As badly as he wanted to take her, he sensed that she needed time. There were other reasons to practice patience; he needed to chart the course of their marriage for the long haul. A smoldering flame could be sustained over time, a roaring inferno burned itself out in short order. Finn had been in enough relationships to recognize his current obsession for what it was. He was in thrall to the first, heady bloom of attraction… ever his favorite stage of any romance. Until he explored the mysteries of a new lover’s body, the possibility existed that she might somehow be different from those who had come before. It heightened the thrill of anticipation and the intensity of his desire.

All men thrilled to the chase. It was a biological imperative.

Finn had to admit to a certain amount of old-fashioned male satisfaction when he thought of becoming Jane’s first lover. He found the idea of taking her virginity intensely erotic, so much so that at times he felt somewhat lecherous… he fantasized about her often and in great detail. He countered those qualms by reminding himself she
was
his wife now… how wrong could it be to lust after her? And even though her innocence was a large part of her allure, he did have other, more tender feelings for her.

“You’ll soon have the house to yourself,” he told Cameron. “I suspect Mother will spend a great deal of time with us when we move.”

“I shall miss Pip,” Cameron said over the top of his snifter, then added, “and Jane, as well. The halls will be strangely silent without the child’s chatter.”