Page 38 of A Stormy Season

Penelope looked quite pleased. “Oh yes, that is a good idea,” she said, then added, “even though Henry has provided her a guard to accompany her wherever she goes, you can provide her with more interesting company.”

Penelope may have meant it was a good idea for him to go with her to the shop so that they could be seen together, to show that they were truly engaged as they were pretending, but this was Penelope. She was happy they would be spending time together only because she wanted them to fall in love.

Penelope had never been the kind of matchmaker Jane was, as Jane had to admit that she had been a bit manipulative when trying to get Henry and Penelope together. But Penelope was obviously not above encouraging a potential match herself.

Jane went upstairs to make some last adjustments—putting on earrings and a dainty necklace—before coming back downstairs to where Luke was waiting for her. When she saw him standing at the door, his eyes locked on hers. That was when her stomach did that flip again. And though it was not unpleasant, she wasn’t sure what it meant. Perhaps she should just enjoy it.

She took Luke’s arm and they were off to fool the populace into thinking they were in love.

A niggling thought came into her mind, that she might be the one who was being fooled. But that was ridiculous. She and Luke were pretending to be engaged to stop any gossip from flourishing. But when Henry was able to quietly apprehend that evil Lenoir and his men, she and Luke could quietly break their engagement, after six months or so.

At the moment, six months seemed like a long, enjoyable, dangerous time.

~ ~ ~

Jane, Luke, Penelope, Henry, and little Lilith all traveled in one carriage the next morning toward Hertfordshire.

Already Jane had received a few congratulatory notes from her acquaintances on the triumph of landing the season’s most eligible gentleman, Mr. Luke Watley.

Never had there been any formal announcement of their engagement, and thankfully, there was no need. Seeing them together at the theatrical, as well as when he’d been seen visiting her, and when they’d taken walks together so many times in such a short period, had convinced everyone that they were engaged. All Jane had to do was gratefully accept their congratulations and well wishes for her future happiness as Mrs. Luke Watley.

This was even easier than Jane had imagined. And she had gone into it thinking it would be a chore and a bother, but it had actually been quite enjoyable. Mr. Watley was excellent company.

Sarah, Lady Ingraham, sent a note saying, “You must tell me how you managed it! The best catch in England, and you refused to even flirt with him. Allow me to add my best wishes for your health and happiness as the new and improved Mrs. Watley. But how many hearts you have broken with this news!”

Jane actually felt a bit sick at the phrase,new and improved Mrs. Watley. It seemed too crass even for Sarah.

Jane’s reply had been succinct and rather impersonal, both because she was in a rush and because she didn’t want to encourage Sarah’s cruelty. Besides, it was probably best to distance herself from someone like Sarah, someone clever and cynical enough to discover the truth of the fake engagement.

But Jane would not let herself care about such things now, for she was bound to Hertfordshire, a holiday in the country with some of her favorite people—Henry, Penelope, and little Lilith—and she would get to enjoy watching Lilith and Jeffrey play together as much as she wished.

Luke would be there too, of course. But it was strange. With each passing day of their pretended engagement she felt more and more unsettled when she thought of him or was around him, at times catching herself feeling as if they truly were engaged.

The last thing she wanted to do was to break the heart of the man who had already experienced more hurt than any twenty-five-year-old gentleman should.

Perhaps she should be worried about her own heart.

No, she would not worry. This was to be a vacation from working—the bookkeeping could wait a fortnight—and from London’s smoke and crowds, for the past Sunday was Easter and people were already arriving in droves from the country to enjoy the festivities of the social season.

They all arrived at Luke’s country house even sooner than Jane would have arrived at her own home in Hertfordshire, for the Watley estate was several miles closer to London than the Gilchrist estate.

Her first glimpse of Luke Watley’s country house was from the window of the carriage. She had seen it before, having been invited to parties and balls over the years, but as she was seeing now in the daylight, Jane realized she’d only ever seen it at night.

She was prepared to give pleasant compliments of it to its owner, but she would not have to exaggerate them.

“It is a most beautiful structure,” Jane said. “The color of the brick and the style of architecture contrast well with the white columns.” It was also massive, much larger than she’d realized.

“Thank you. It is home,” Luke said with an ironic grin.

A thick forest surrounded the house, but not so closely as to shut out the sun, and the house was set on a high point to lend it even more light.

Penelope said, also gazing out the window, “I should think in winter when it snows, that hill in front would be a wonderful place for sledding.”

Everyone stared at Penelope.

“What? I am thinking of how much enjoyment little Jeffrey would get from sliding down that hill, and I might even join him. Is that so strange?”

“Not at all,” Henry said, smiling. “It’s just not what we would expect would be the first thing that would enter your mind.” Discreetly, he took her hand and squeezed it, and the look they shared was so intimate and loving, it made Jane’s chest ache.