Page 47 of Regency Whispers: Scandalous Matches

‘Go back inside,’ she said as he came and touched her gently on the arm. Already her skin was cool to touch, and he quickly shrugged off his jacket to drape around her shoulders.

‘No.’

‘If we’re found out here together...’ She trailed off, leaving the consequences to his imagination.

‘All the more reason for you to tell me what has upset you and how we can fix it.’

She shook her head.

‘Who were you comparing yourself to, Jane?’ he asked, watching as her eyes flicked up in surprise at the question. ‘When you said you were the clever one, the plain one, the dull one?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

He reached out and ever so gently took her hand, hearing her sharp intake of breath. A spark passed between them, setting his skin on fire, and Tom desperately tried to ignore it. Nothing good could come out of this attraction he was feeling, and he had resolved to think of Jane as a friend. If one of his other friends were having a crisis of confidence like this, he would calmly but firmly help them through it.

‘It’s my sister,’ Jane blurted out, her eyes darting up to meet his. ‘Harriet.’

‘Harriet?’

‘I didn’t mention her before. She was my twin. She died a few years ago. I find it difficult to talk about her.’

‘I’m sorry. It must be difficult to lose someone so close.’

‘She was beautiful with such a gentle temperament.’

Tom stayed quiet, allowing Jane to talk now she had started to open up.

‘Everyone would joke she had stolen all the gifts when we were in the womb. She was beautiful whilst I was plain. She was kind whilst I was spiky...’

Slowly he began to see what this would have done to a little girl, raised to think she was not conventionally attractive or worthy.

‘I didn’t mind,’ Jane said in a voice that hinted she had minded, at least when she’d been young. ‘I determined I would play to my talents. Beauty might be the most treasured attribute in a young woman, but I would not dwell on the fact I had not been blessed. Instead I would look for another way to make those around me proud.’

‘Was it your parents who made you feel second best?’ Tom felt a sudden flare of anger that anyone could do this to a young child.

‘Not directly. No one was ever cruel to me, no one came out and told me I was ugly or lacked charm.’ She shrugged and Tom squeezed her hand. ‘It was more subtle than that. People from the village would stop and make a fuss over Harriet and say how lovely she was, then they would turn to me and purse their lips, and ask me if I was a good girl and helped my parents as I should.’ Jane pulled away, shaking herself a little, as if ashamed to have indulged in so much self-pity. ‘I should be thankful, really. It made me realise when I was young the conventional path of marrying a man who could provide for me might not be open to me.’

‘So you started to explore your other talents.’

‘Yes, my writing and my painting.’

‘I think I understand,’ Tom said, choosing his next words carefully. ‘It is all nonsense, of course, but I understand.’

‘Nonsense?’

‘I did not know your sister, so I cannot comment on her appearance, but I do know you. Shall I tell you what I see when I look at you?’ Tom didn’t wait for her to answer before pressing on. ‘I see a perfectly shaped face with striking high cheekbones and gently arched brows. I see full, rosy lips and eyes that are deep and intelligent. I see thick, shiny hair, even when it is pulled back into the most severe of buns. I see you.’

For a moment he thought she was going to launch herself at him, fling her body into his arms and take advantage of the darkness.

‘It is kind of you to say,’ she said eventually, her voice even and under control. ‘And I dare say it is true that beauty is subjective—although I am sure, if you were to be completely truthful, you would choose a woman who looked like Mrs Burghley over a woman who looked like me every time.’

Tom couldn’t deny that normally the women with whom he conducted his affairs did often have certain physical attributes in common, but he was acutely aware of the attraction he felt towards Jane.

He stepped forward and took her into his arms, looking into her eyes before he lowered his lips to hers. He kissed her gently, tasting the sweetness of her lips and enjoying the way she melted into him after a few seconds. Pushing away all the self-recrimination, the voice that told him this was beyond foolish, he kissed her, loving the way she pressed her fingers into his back, not caring in that instant if they were found.

In his rational mind he knew this was reckless, needlessly so. He didn’t want to marry Jane, he didn’t want to marry anyone, yet here he was kissing a young woman who would be ruined if they were found. All of this he knew. He’d told himself again and again.

Normally he didn’t have a problem with keeping his impulses under control. He might dart through life in search of the next pleasure, but he did it mindfully, never dallying with anyone who wasn’t as free and enthusiastic as himself. Yet here was Jane, the young woman no one seemed to take any notice of, and he couldn’t keep his hands off her.