“You know what I mean,” he said, his voice gruff. “What happened to the husband?”
“I refused to marry the man.” Jane felt herself straighten a bit. As she had when, for the first time in her life, she’d defied her father. “He refused to believe me until he dragged me into church that day, and I said no, I would not have that man as my husband.”
Hector’s deep laugh began in his stomach. The same laugh she had missed for so long. “I would have loved to see his face. Hoisted by his own petard.”
“Exactly. The vicar asked why I’d changed my mind, and I told him I had not. I had never agreed to the marriage in the first place.”
His face had regained its jovial mien. “I take it he didn’t attempt to beat you?”
“No, you know, or rather knew Papa.” She sighed. “He would never resort to physical violence. There was a huge brouhaha, mostly my father shouting. He threatened to throw me out of the house, but my mother’s aunt, I don’t think you ever met her, a bluestocking who held weekly salons of artists and writers, said she’d take me in. Well, that ended that.”
“Did he ever try to make a match for you again?” Hector’s gaze slanted down at Jane.
“No. He made suggestions, of course, but I turned them down.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “After all, how could I wed one man when I was already in love with another?” They had been walking on Maddox Street and had reached the corner of Davies Street. Hector had been quiet since she basically announced that she had waited for him. Jane’s stomach was performing acrobatics. “I live in Berkeley Square.”
“I shall do myself the honor of escorting you home.”
She gave a tight nod. Perhaps she should not have been so open, yet seeing Hector again brought all the memories and feelings rushing back.
They had reached the square before he said. “Janie, I should like to court you. I know I’m not the specimen I used to be, and I’m an old bachelor with the attendant problems, but if you could see your way . . .”
His face had grown red. Tears pricked Jane’s eyes. “I’m not the same as I was either, and I am a spinster and set in my habits as well, but there is nothing I would like more than for you to court me.”
As they stared at each other, the years slipped away. Hector patted her hand twice. “I’m not sure how to go about this.”
“You could ask me to walk in the Park, or take me to Gunter’s for an ice cream.”
“I ordered a curricle that will be delivered to-day. Would you ride with me in the Park to-morrow, Miss Carpenter?”
Where was her handkerchief when she required it? Jane sniffed and smiled. “I would be delighted, Mr. Addison.”
Chapter Seventeen
Charlotte hailed Louisa from a bench in the middle of Berkeley Square. “It’s no use. I knocked on Grace’s door, and she sent me away.”
“Matt’s the same.” Louisa bit her lip. “He’s locked himself in his study and our butler won’t even let us down the corridor. I did try to go through the garden, but was stopped.” She plopped down on the bench next to Charlotte. “I wonder if they have quarreled.”
Charlotte sat up. “I hope it is nothing to do with the guardianship.”
“That would certainly upset them, but you’d think they would mope together.”
“It’s beyond me. If they do not work it out shortly, we will have to become involved. Do you go to Lady Huntingdon’s party to-morrow?”
“Yes.” Louisa smiled. “Our first real entertainment. I can barely wait for our first ball!”
A sporting carriage drove up to Worthington House and a gentleman with a many-capped greatcoat climbed down and threw the reins to a small boy dressed in livery. “Louisa, someone’s just driven up to your house.”
Louisa peered in the direction Charlotte pointed, then sat back. “Him? It is only Merton.”
“I like his carriage, and his horses are very sweet goers. They look to be perfectly matched.”
“No doubt they are.” Louisa gave a bored sigh. “He insistseverythingbe perfect.”
Charlotte glanced at her friend. “That sounds a bit daunting. What is wrong with him?”
“It is not that anything is so verywrongwith him. It’s just that he is a marquis andneverlets anyone forget it.Andhe is our cousin, so we are forever being reminded of it.”
“Hmm, in that case, I suppose he’s not worth knowing. I dislike anyone who is puffed up in their own consequence.”
