Page 57 of Regency Whispers: Scandalous Matches

Tom fell silent, remembering the hurt look in Jane’s eyes that afternoon when he had mentioned marriage. He knew he hadn’t handled it well, but it was hardly a normal situation. He’d never had to deal with anything like this before. How did you say to a woman, a friend, that you would marry them if necessary without making it sound as if you were reluctant to do so?

‘Ah, I made a mess of it,’ he said, frustrated.

‘It does all sound a mess,’ Western murmured.

‘When I told her I would marry her if necessary, I don’t think I looked too thrilled.’

‘So now she thinks you would only marry her out of charity.’

‘That’s not good, is it?’

Western shook his head and Tom pressed his palms into his eye sockets. The pressure felt good.

‘I can’t see anyone taking it as a compliment, but perhaps it is for the best.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘This woman... Jane, is it?’ He waited for Tom to nod before he continued. ‘She clearly has something about her to make you break your rules. You’ve always said no married women and no debutantes. It is important to you, and in all the years I’ve known you I don’t think you’ve ever broken them. Until now.’

Tom thought back over the years and the liaisons. Western was right—never before had he even kissed a debutante or a married woman. It wasn’t worth the hassle, but more than that it wasn’t worth the guilt that accompanied it.

‘I need to make things right with her, don’t I?’

‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ Western said, pouring him out another glass of whisky. ‘I would love to see you settled down and happy, but I wouldn’t want you to be forced into it.’

For a few minutes they drank in silence, Tom considering his options but not able to come to any conclusion.

‘I think I’d better go,’ he said eventually, standing and stumbling. He grabbed hold of the wall, steadied himself and blinked half a dozen times until the world looked straight again.

‘How much have we drunk?’

On occasion, he and Western would share part of a bottle of whisky as they laughed and talked and reminisced through the night into the small hours, and normally he could handle his liquor well. It must have been the speed at which he’d gulped back the four large glasses combined with not eating for most of the day that affected him tonight.

‘Are you safe to get home or do you need an escort?’

‘I can manage. Give that beautiful wife of yours a kiss from me.’

Western scowled at him and Tom grinned as he weaved his way back through the main room of the tavern and out into the street.

Chapter Seventeen

Jane awoke with a start, finding it hard to shake off the last remnants of a dream and for a moment feeling disorientated in the darkness. Only as her eyes adjusted did she remember where she was and allow herself to sink back down into the pillows. She closed her eyes but a few seconds later there was a light tap on the window. For an instant, her body stiffened as she listened, but there was nothing further for at least a minute. Forcing herself to relax again, she looked at the ceiling for a while and then sat bolt upright as there was another tap.

She debated whether to hide under the covers or stride boldly over to the window and pull open the curtains.

‘You’re on the second floor,’ she muttered to herself. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. No one is going to be outside.’

All the same, she crept over to the window and braced herself before wrenching open the curtains.

Of course there was no one there, no flying monster ready to chase her, not even a confused bat knocking into the window. Jane was about to pull the curtains closed and return to bed when she glanced down.

At first she wondered if she were still asleep, still dreaming a bizarre dream. It would be more plausible than what she saw happening for real.

Standing on the lawn was the outline of a man, a man she knew was Tom, even in the darkness. He was throwing little pebbles at her window, but either he was a very poor sportsman or he was inebriated, as his aim was truly terrible. A pebble skittered across a window further along the house and Jane sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Lord and Lady Mountjoy’s rooms were on the first floor.

Quickly she pushed up the window and leaned her head out, sucking in a quick breath as the icy air whipped at her face.

‘What are you doing?’ she whispered as loudly as she dared.