Page 21 of Regency Whispers: Scandalous Matches

Jane smiled and he could see she was pleased with the compliment.

‘I am grateful. I know you refused the other day, but my offer to help you find a publisher still stands. You are doing so much for me.’

Jane looked sharply at the open door and he realised quite how in the dark Lady Mountjoy was about Jane’s ambition to get her work published.

‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘That won’t be necessary. All I need from you is what we originally agreed.’

He inclined his head. He wasn’t sure why she was quite so reluctant to accept help, especially when it seemed her search for someone to publish her work wasn’t going very well. They hadn’t discussed details, but it was already mid March. She could only have a few more months in London until she returned home, losing her opportunity to wander the London streets with the package she was hopeful someone would take a chance on one day. Still, it wasn’t his place to push the idea. He had put forward his offer to help twice now. She would ask him if she did want any assistance.

With a surreptitious glance at the door, Jane stood and moved closer to him, crouching down next to his chair and leaning in.

‘We should ensure our deception is believable, though. Visiting Astley’s was a good start, but perhaps we can endure a ball or two to make Lady Mountjoy really think she does not need to start parading me in front of other suitors.’

‘Do you find balls something to be endured?’

‘Don’t you?’ She looked up at him, her eyes wide under the dark eyelashes, and he felt something stir inside him. He realised he’d never properly looked at her before, never noticed the clarity of the green of her eyes or the fullness of her lips. Her skin was smooth, marked only by the few freckles dotted over her nose.

Tom frowned, wondering why he hadn’t noticed her this way before. It was true he tried to steer well clear of gently bred young women. There was no point even considering a dalliance when he was not interested in marriage, but still, he normally noticed an attractive young woman.

His eyes drifted from the top down, noting the severe way she parted her hair in the middle and pulled it back from her face and the dress that was too big and shapeless on her form. Miss Ashworth was hiding and doing it quite successfully. Thrown into a world where all the other debutantes wanted to shine, wanted to be noticed, Miss Ashworth was doing her best to fade into the background.

He had the urge to reach out, to run a finger over her smooth cheek, to draw her closer and get her to spill all the secrets she was holding deep inside. She intrigued him, with her obvious dislike of social events and single-minded focus on her aims.

‘I don’t go to many,’ he murmured. ‘The privilege of answering to no one but yourself. I can choose what I attend and what I do not. It means the few I do attend I quite enjoy, but only because they are a rarity.’

Miss Ashworth let out a little sigh and then bit her lower lip. It was mesmerising to watch this close up, and Tom was well aware he was staring. Luckily, Miss Ashworth seemed preoccupied with the idea of doing exactly what one wanted and had a dreamy, faraway look in her eye.

‘What do you say, then?’ she said, snapping back to reality. ‘Will you attend a few balls with me, dance a couple of dances?’

‘Of course, it is the least I can do. I shall send you details of what events I am free to attend. Perhaps you might like to accompany me to Lord and Lady Parson’s dinner party tomorrow night?’

‘That sounds like a good idea. I shall check with Lady Mountjoy if we have been invited.’ She looked up at him, seeming to realise for the first time that she was leaning in so close. He expected her to jolt away but he saw her hesitate for just a moment, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

‘Your nephew has quite outfoxed me playing draughts,’ Lady Mountjoy said as she breezed into the room, stopping abruptly as she saw Miss Ashworth crouching by his chair, her face angled up towards him.

It looked intimate, there was no denying it, even though they had only been talking about society events.

Lady Mountjoy coughed to hide her surprise and then he saw her work very hard to suppress the smile of satisfaction that was trying to work its way across her face.

Miss Ashworth rose to her feet, colour flooding to her cheeks.

‘We were discussing balls,’ Miss Ashworth said as she rushed back to the seat she had been sitting in originally.

‘Of course, of course,’ Lady Mountjoy said quickly. ‘Will you be attending Lord Framlingham’s ball on Friday?’

There was no reason he couldn’t. He hadn’t made any plans with friends on Friday, and he wasn’t quick enough with a deception to lie convincingly.

‘Yes,’ he said, telling himself it was only fair. This was how Miss Ashworth was asking him to support her—he needed to step up and do as she asked. Even if it meant society thinking they were romantically inclined.

He shuddered at the realisation of the impact of this agreement. Even when it became apparent he and Miss Ashworth were not heading for marriage, his reputation as a man with no interest in settling down would be rocked. No longer would the debutantes and their mothers avoid him completely.

‘We can share a carriage, if you would like,’ Lady Mountjoy offered.

It was an ingenious ploy on the part of the older woman. There was no good reason for him to refuse. His residence was not far from hers and they were going to the same destination, but it did mean he and Miss Ashworth would be seen arriving together, which would set tongues wagging. Added to that, it would be harder for him to leave after an hour or two. Politeness would oblige him to stay until the ladies were ready to depart.

He smiled, impressed with her skill. If he and Miss Ashworth had not been playing a part, if there’d been a flicker of true attraction between them, he could see how Lady Mountjoy and her little tricks would go about fanning those flames.

‘That is most generous,’ he said. ‘What time will you be leaving?’