Page 51 of Regency Whispers: Scandalous Matches

‘I do not know the intricacies of your family’s situation,’ Lady Mountjoy said slowly. ‘But I am aware you are the eldest of six girls and there are likely some hopes you will make a match. You may not be searching for a wealthy husband, Miss Ashworth, but perhaps you are searching for a good man. Do not discount Mr Stewart because he happens to be wealthy. One does not preclude the other.’

Lady Mountjoy stood and crossed the room, pausing by the door. She motioned at the small desk in which Jane had secreted her pictures and writing. ‘Some places of business may end up closing early if the snow really becomes a difficulty. Maybe you can take one day to enjoy the company of a man you admire.’

Jane blinked, unable to do anything but look open-mouthed after the countess as she left the room. Although she knew Lady Mountjoy was sharp, with friends everywhere, she had been convinced her search for a publisher had gone unnoticed. She had shared so much of her life with Lucy and the other debutantes over the past few months yet even they had been unaware of her secret mission.

If Lady Mountjoy knew... Jane shook her head, unable to comprehend the enormity of her realisation. These last few months, she had truly believed no one had known her secret, and here was Lady Mountjoy announcing calmly that she was aware of Jane’s ambition.

Pulling out the drawer, she looked at the bundle of papers, and then carefully took them out of their dark hiding place and set them carefully on the desk. Maybe it was time to stop sneaking around. She lovingly ran a hand over the topmost of the papers, scrutinising the picture with an artist’s eye.

She had received her first box of watercolour paints when she’d been eight years old and at first not paid them much attention. Only after she and Harriett had both been sick in bed with measles had she taken them out, eager for anything to assuage her boredom. Jane had found she was talented, able to study something and quickly create its likeness, and from there her love of painting and drawing had been born.

For once she had been the one receiving praise. Harriet had found the intricacies of creating something beautiful with the paints too laborious and had quickly given up. It meant, for the first time in her life, Jane had emerged from the shadows and in this one thing had outshone her beautiful and graceful sister. She didn’t like to admit that had been one of the main reasons she would take out the paints at first, but as the months had gone by the satisfaction she’d got from creating something from nothing had been motivation enough.

The stories she wrote to accompany the pictures had come later, but her first love had been drawing and painting to create the pictures that now made the stories come alive. With a nod of satisfaction, she shut the drawer, leaving the pile of papers on the desk.

Chapter Fifteen

‘I want to go sledging and ice-skating and build a snowman and have snowball fights,’ Edward said with the enthusiasm of someone experiencing his very first snowfall.

‘We can do all of those things,’ Tom said as he squeezed his nephew’s hand. The little boy was wrapped up against the cold in bulky layers, happily skipping along beside him. Tom had been out late the night before, trying to find Mrs Burghley, and then spending some time attempting to persuade her to keep quiet about what she had seen. When he had returned home, Edward had been curled up in his bed and the maid had apologised, saying it was the only way she had been able to settle him. Tom had carried the little boy back to his own bed and had sat with him a while, glad of the distraction of Edward’s rhythmic breathing.

‘Miss Jane promised she would come with us,’ Edward said. ‘She lives in the countryside and she knows how to go sledging.’

For an instant he allowed himself to indulge in the image of Jane hurtling down a hill, hair streaming behind her, wild whoops of joy coming from her mouth.

‘In a few minutes you will be able to ask her if she would like to accompany us.’

‘Of course she will,’ Edward said with a small smile. ‘She likes you and she likes me even more.’

Tom wasn’t sure how he would be received this afternoon at the Mountjoys’ house. So far he hadn’t heard of any rumours circulating about an illicit embrace between Jane and him in a darkened garden, but without a doubt Lady Mountjoy would be the first to hear of any whispers. He might already be unwelcome in the smart townhouse he was approaching...unwelcome or expected to prepare a proposal.

As he knocked on the door he felt his stomach flip, a sensation that only settled when they were shown into the drawing room without any fanfare.

‘What a lovely surprise,’ Lady Mountjoy said as she glided in to greet them. ‘Edward, you must be so excited about the snow.’

Tom watched as the older woman ushered his nephew over to the window and she was soon listening intently to all the things the boy was planning to do in the snow for the first time.

‘Mr Stewart.’ He hadn’t even heard Jane enter the room and spun suddenly at the sound of her voice. She looked tired, her skin pale and her eyes without their normal sparkle. Immediately he felt a cad. He could have sent word somehow to let her know the outcome of his talk with Mrs Burghley. Even though there wasn’t a conclusive answer as to what she might do, he could imagine Jane had spent an unsettled night, kept in the dark, left only to speculate as to her fate,.

‘Good afternoon, Miss Ashworth,’ he said, trying to read her expression. ‘Edward reminded me you promised to accompany us to the park in the event of snow.’

‘Yes, Miss Jane, please say you will come,’ Edward said, dashing over and giving Jane a big hug.

‘Of course I will come,’ Jane said, dropping a kiss on the little boy’s head. For an instant Tom had a vision of what his future could be like. It involved Jane doting on Edward, a life of comfortable routine.

‘Is something amiss, Mr Stewart? Are you unwell?’ Lady Mountjoy enquired.

He shook his head, unable to speak. Suddenly his cravat was awfully tight around his neck.

‘Do you need a glass of water?’

Again he shook his head. Jane moved closer, peering at him in concern. ‘You’re making strange noises,’ she whispered.

He tried to smile but by the reaction of everyone else in the room the result could not have been very reassuring.

‘I do not know who will be free to chaperon me,’ Jane said, flashing a concerned look in his direction. He was grateful she was trying to move the conversation on.

‘I am sure a maid will be a satisfactory chaperon. You will be out in public and accompanied by Edward. It is hardly a scandalous outing,’ Lady Mountjoy said after a moment’s thought.