Page 25 of Regency Whispers: Scandalous Matches

‘The truth?’

‘That I will never marry.’

‘“Never” is a long time.’

‘It is, Miss Ashworth.’

She looked at him curiously, but thankfully didn’t push him to explain why he was so adamant. Some things were too private. Tom had decided long ago he would never marry, even before his accident. He couldn’t trust himself with another person’s happiness, another person’s wellbeing.

For a moment he closed his eyes and pictured his sister. She looked young in his mind, just seventeen years old. That was the last time he had seen her, the last memory he had of her. After years of aggression and cruelty from their father, Tom had joined the army as soon as he’d turned eighteen. He had done it to escape, to rid himself of the feeling he was always doing wrong in his father’s eyes. He’d always been afraid of angering him. He had joined the army and breathed a sigh of relief when he’d been sent away to fight. Of course he had thought about Rebecca, but the urge to escape had been too strong, and he had bought a commission even though he knew it meant leaving Rebecca behind with their father.

When she’d disappeared, the guilt he’d felt had been overwhelming. The situation must have been so bad to make her leave with nothing more than the clothes on her back. For years he had carried the guilt and self-recriminations. He knew he couldn’t be trusted to put someone else’s needs before his own, so he had vowed to never marry, never be in the situation where someone was reliant on him.

After his injury, he had become more determined, deciding to live every day as if it were his last, but to keep to his pledge of not developing any lasting connections.

It had all been going so well until Edward had turned up on his doorstep.

Thankfully, the conversation around them had moved on, and as everyone finished their pudding the gentlemen all settled down for drinks whilst the ladies withdrew to the drawing room. As Miss Ashworth stood, eyeing the other female guests warily, he caught her eye and winked, feeling inordinately happy at the momentary smile this elicited. Then the doors to the drawing room closed and he was swept into a world of business deals, estate management and parliamentary matters.

Chapter Nine

Jane touched her hair self-consciously as the carriage rolled to a stop outside Lord and Lady Framlingham’s house. She had asked her maid to try a different style, something a little less severe than the centre parting she normally opted for. The curls that bounced around her face felt foreign and distracting, but when she had looked in the mirror before leaving she had felt a flush of pleasure in the change in her appearance.

‘Shall we?’

Mr Stewart was sitting opposite her and jumped agilely down from the carriage as it rolled to a stop. As usual he looked devastatingly handsome with his dark hair swept across his forehead and his clothes cut to display his enviable physique.

The house was grand, even by London standards, situated out of the centre with more land around it. It meant it was larger than many of the townhouses Jane had visited in her time in London, many of which had to make do with throwing open the doors of the drawing rooms and dining rooms to make space for a ball.

As they walked inside Framlingham House, it was apparent no expense had been spared for the evening. Candles flickered inside glass lanterns to line the route up to the house and inside the decorations continued. Fresh flowers had been placed in every possible location, giving off a beautiful aroma and making the guests feel as if they had stepped into a painting of spring time. Despite it being mid March the weather this year was far too cold for these flowers to be blooming naturally and Jane wondered how they had achieved such an effect.

They were greeted by their hosts and guided to a magnificent ballroom with walls painted in light-blue and gold. A magnificent chandelier sparkled above their heads and already the musicians were playing gentle music to welcome the guests.

‘All very civilised,’ Mr Stewart murmured in her ear, and Jane had to press her lips together to stop a laugh bursting out.

She felt giddy and a little reckless tonight, very unlike her usual self. She knew part of it was because of the man holding her elbow, the man she realised was slowly becoming her friend.

Throughout all the balls, dinner parties and the operas she had disappeared into the background, overshadowed by the three other beautiful debutantes Lady Mountjoy had brought to London. Jane knew it was mainly her own doing—she hadn’t wanted to be centre of attention and had done everything to ensure she wasn’t the first to be asked to dance or the one the gentlemen clamoured to sit next to at dinner. Until recently she had still managed to enjoy a few of the events, swept along by her friends but, with Lucy and Eliza happily settled with their husbands, it had been looking like a grim few months as the Season started properly, observing solely from the edge of the room.

With Mr Stewart by her side it felt as though someone was seeing her, truly seeing her, for the first time. It felt thrilling to know that later on he would ask her to dance and she would actually enjoy the experience.

‘Go, go,’ Lady Mountjoy urged as she waved to an acquaintance across the room. ‘You two young things take a walk around the room and enjoy yourselves.’

‘She’s planning the wedding already,’ Mr Stewart murmured in Jane’s ear as they obeyed, slipping into the crowds of the ballroom.

‘I think she had it all planned out the moment you visited her drawing room after the last ball where we danced together.’

‘A big celebration or a small family affair?’

‘A big celebration, certainly. I am the fifth and final debutante she sponsored for the Season. She would want a party to match the scale of her achievement.’

‘St George’s?’

‘Without a doubt, with a gathering after in the gardens of the Mountjoys’ townhouse.’

‘A fair engagement, then, for a summer wedding?’

‘These things can’t be rushed. Not when it should be the wedding of the year. Mr Stewart, the infamous rake, and the woman who finally enticed him to settle down.’