Page 53 of A Stormy Season

Luke had turned toward the dance floor, as if just noticing that a new dance was about to start, when a young gentleman approached. Luke introduced Jane to him and then they began to talk of when they might go on another hunt like the one where they shot fifteen pheasants between them.

Jane would not be dancing this one, as another gentleman approached and the three of them stood talking of some of the things Luke had said he enjoyed discussing—hunting, political viewpoints, and farming methods.

Penelope turned to Jane. “Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. Are you?”

“I am.” She smiled and took a sip of her lemonade. Everything was going as she’d hoped, even though Luke had not been very convincing in the beginning. They would need to dance a few more times, and look as if they were pleased to be in each other’s company, to convince all the guests that they were in love.

Certainly, she shouldn’t care so much. It was her reputation that was most important, if she ever wished to marry—and she did. But if she was honest, it was her pride that she was trying to protect by making everyone think she and Luke were in love. Otherwise people would laugh at her behind her back about all the times she’d said she would never marry unless it was for a deep and abiding love, and that she would never marry for money or social standing.

She watched as Luke drained his cup of lemonade and gave it to a passing servant while the men around him were obviously intent on their conversation, using their hands to punctuate their words. Luke was rather intent as well, until a middle-aged woman with rosy cheeks interrupted them. Jane heard her say, “. . . take your discussion away from the ballroom . . . dancing and merrymaking . . .”

“Don’t go,” Jane whispered under her breath, willing Luke to stay and play the loving fiancée, but he turned and led the gentlemen to a side where tables and card games were set up.

And he did not return.

Jane wanted to dance, but now she’d either have to pretend she didn’t want to dance anymore, or find another partner, and the latter did not seem wise.

Jane would leave the ballroom before anyone else came to talk to her. If she disappeared at the same time as Luke, it wouldn’t seem as if he had left her standing with the dancers while he went to talk politics with the other men. Most people would assume they were together.

She slipped from the room, and with each step she took toward the staircase, her anger grew. He’d left her standing there.

Why would his going into another room to talk with the men make her angry? She knew she was overreacting, but didn’t he know that he was supposed to be dancing with her?

She was reminded of when she was a little girl. Her father had taken her with him to scout for pheasants. Jane was very young and had just learned to ride her own horse without help. They stopped their horses at a small stream where Jane was happily watching the tiny fishes just under the water.

“Wait here for me,” her father said, taking out his gun. “You can play in the stream while I go look for pheasants.”

No doubt he hadn’t wanted her to scare off the birds. She had played in the stream a long time, and when he didn’t come back she rode home, getting lost once or twice but finally making it back.

When the groom came out and took her horse’s reins, he gave her a surprised look, but Jane ran from the stable to the house and yelled to her mother, “Father is lost! He told me to wait at the stream but he didn’t come back!”

Her mother and older brother ran out of the house, Jane just behind them, all the way to the stable. They told the grooms that Mr. Gilchrist was lost in the woods, and just as they were saddling horses to go look for him, her father came riding up toward the stable with a pair of pheasants tied to his saddle.

Her father suddenly saw Jane and his eyes widened, his brows shooting up. “Oh, Jane. Forgive me. I forgot all about you.”

Mother looked horrified, her expression turning to anger.

Henry’s mouth fell open, his eyes dolefully fastened on Father.

But the grooms were laughing. They laughed and laughed, ducking back into the stable to keep from being scolded, while Mother shook her finger at Father.

“She is just a little girl. She could have been hurt or lost! Or worse! How could you leave her alone and forget about her? I cannot believe it.”

“You really came back all by yourself?” Henry said to Jane, patting her shoulder. “That’s impressive for a little girl like you.”

He was trying to tease her, to take her mind off the argument their parents were having, but Jane’s heart was broken. Her father had forgotten about her. Did she not matter to him?

She’d tried to tell herself that their father might have taken Henry into the woods and forgotten about him, but she didn’t believe it. Father would never have forgotten Henry. He had never, and he would never. But Jane was not as important in her father’s eyes as his son was. She was just a girl so she didn’t matter as much.

Father took Henry with him much more often than he took her. Father spoke to Henry more often than he did her. Father loved Henry more. She didn’t know when she had come to that conclusion, she’d just always known it to be true.

And when he left her in the woods and forgot about her to go shoot pheasants, he had proven it not only to her but to her mother, Henry, and even the servants. How the grooms had laughed!

Her stomach sank at the humiliation of it. And it seemed as if Luke had just done the same thing in walking away with those men instead of staying in the ballroom and dancing with his fiancée. Again she felt the pain of people knowing she didn’t matter to someone she loved.

Jane climbed the stairs slowly, her feet heavy. With all the noise of the ball below her, she felt alone, lonely, and unloved.

She was near the nursery and the door was slightly ajar. Jeffrey was crying, and she went to peek in on him.