“How is my hair?” Cressida asked, gesturing to it.
“Perfect. You are perfect.” Jane smiled.
“Do you think Richard will think so?” Cressida glanced at her reflection in the mirror.
“He would have to be blind not to. I doubt there will be a man who will not be jealous of him today.” Jane gestured to her friend, who looked absolutely radiant.
“You are too kind. Stop it, or else you will make me cry.” Cressida wiped a tear from her eye.
“Well, we cannot have that.” Jane laughed, and found that it eased some of the pain in her chest.
“I cannot wait to be married. I think I am so happy that I could die.” Cressida clutched her chest.
“As you should be. This is a truly special day for you both.” Emily said.
“It is.” Cressida sighed happily. “I cannot wait until you find your own happiness.”
“I do not think a love match is something I will find, but I am sure my match will make me happy in its own way,” Jane answered, feeling a small stab of sadness in her chest.
For a few moments, I lost myself in dreams and fantasies. I thought I could have what Rose and Olivia and Cressida have. I thought I could know that happiness, but I was a fool.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Emily giving her an odd look. Jane ignored it and squeezed Cressida’s hand.
“Shall we get you married?”
“Yes.”
Together they began the journey to the church, and Jane forced herself to smile. She would be strong for Cressida.
Blake the Rake may not care about others, but I do. I will not let him ruin this for her.
All she had to do was get through the ceremony and ignore the fact that he would stand opposite her during the entire thing. She could do this. Shewoulddo this.
She did not need to indulge her fantasy any more than she already had. Her match might not bring her love, but at least she would be valued. And there would be an honesty in it. She could finally stop pretending, stop hoping that anyone would see her for who she was and want to be with her.
ChapterTwenty-Six
A Dance Of Revelations And Dreams
“Is something the matter with Jane?” Blake found himself asking before he could stop himself.
Nigel gave him a quizzical look. “She has seemed perfectly herself to me. Perhaps a little more emotional than usual, but that is to be expected at a wedding.”
“Do not tell me you two are fighting again?” Alexander frowned at Blake, a mix of exasperation and amusement in his eyes. “What is it this time?”
I wish I knew.
Blake had been trying to catch Jane’s eye all day. During Richard and Cressida’s wedding, she had seemed utterly transfixed by the proceedings and refused to look at him.
A few weeks ago, he might have put it down to her wanting to focus on her friend, but there was an odd brittleness in her expression, and her eyes seemed red, even before she had cried at the end of the ceremony.
But crying does not mean there is anything wrong, does it? Many women cry at such things.
He tried to believe his own words, but as he glanced across the crowded ballroom, his thoughts felt hollow.
“We are not fighting,” he murmured, his eyes landing on Jane.
What are we doing?
