Page 9 of The Widow Wore Plaid

Jane’s mouth fell open. “I am not to tell my friends until tomorrow night?” Although it sounded a short time, it would be interminable when she desperately wanted them to know immediately. She rose up on her elbow and fixed him with a gimlet eye. “And you think you will be able to withhold the news when you see Lathbury first thing tomorrow?”

He avoided her piercing gaze until he could stand it no longer, then sighed. “All right. I will have to wait as well. Come here.” Slipping his arms around her, he pulled her against him. As expected, young Gareth had risen once more. “If we must show restraint in the announcement, at least let us abandon it elsewhere.”

As her mouth rose to meet his, she growled in her throat and whispered, “Agreed.”

Chapter Five

Next morning, Jane steeled herself as she approached the breakfast room. After all the fuss yesterday about not marrying Kinellan, how was she to conceal her newly altered status from all of her best friends? She’d always been an extremely forthright person, never one to lie or misstate the truth, to the point where some people considered her blunt in her speech, according to Charlotte.

Well, she’d just have to be on her guard and not slip up and tell them. Unhappily, she was certain they would bring the subject up immediately. Perhaps she should have planned ahead of time what to tell then regarding what had taken place last evening with Kinellan. However, the giddiness that had ensued after actually hearing his proposal had addled her brains. Not to mention their other activities most of the rest of the night. But she’d given Gareth—she savored the sound of his name in her mind—her word that she wouldn’t tell, so she’d best prepare herself quickly.

Drawing a deep breath, she set a pleasant smile on her lips and walked briskly into the cheery room, decorated with a mural of a pastoral scene in blues, yellows, and greens. The boisterous crowd who greeted her was composed of most of her friends and their husbands, all eating and chatting away. Fanny and Matthew sat at the far end talking animatedly to Nash and Charlotte. Next to them, Elizabeth and Georgie had their heads together, their husbands, always thick as thieves, sitting opposite them. Maria, Hugh, and Arabella were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps having a late morning lie-in, although the gentlemen were supposed to go shooting immediately after breakfast.

Kinellan was absent as usual, likely taking care of last-minute details for the shoot that would take the gentlemen off for the better part of the day. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him at the breakfast table, even when they did not have a castle full of guests. When the man ate she had no clue.

“Jane.” Fanny was the first to spot her and beckoned her to their end of the table.

“Good morning, Jane.” Elizabeth greeted her with a smile and a delicately raised eyebrow. “Come sit here by me, my dear.”

Let the inquisition begin.

“Oh, do sit here, Jane.” Patting the seat next to her, Georgie greedily assessed her countenance. Likely looking for signs of elation or despair. Jane would have to be on guard all the blessed day to keep those emotions concealed.

Glancing from friend to friend to friend, Jane weighed her options. Which one was most likely to wheedle information out of her? Fanny, without a doubt. Her sister-in-law would lose no time in asking about Kinellan’s intentions and if he’d proposed last night, so instead she slid into the chair next to Georgie. “Good morning, everyone. Gentlemen, are you forming part of the shooting party?”

No one spoke for at least a minute, until Georgie elbowed her husband.

“Yes, indeed, Jane.” Robin, Marquess of St. Just smiled eagerly while subtly rubbing his ribs. “Jemmy and I were just about to join the throng. Coming, Wrotham? Lathbury?”

As if one, the gentlemen rose.

“I’ll see you at the luncheon, darling.” St. Just leaned over to kiss his wife.

The others followed suit, then all four gentlemen took their leave and filed out of the room.

“Thank goodness.” Fanny rose and moved swiftly down the table until she sat in the chair just vacated by Lord Brack, Elizabeth’s husband. And directly across from Jane. “Now we can talk in peace.” She grabbed the milk pitcher and poured a generous amount into her tea. “So, Jane, what happened between you and Kinellan last night?”

“We saw you dancing, then slip outside as soon as it ended.” Elizabeth pushed her untouched plate away and peered into Jane’s face. “Did he propose again, under the starlight?”

“Very romantic of him if so, my dear,” Charlotte added, helping herself to more toast and marmalade. “My proposal from Nash wasn’t nearly so romantic, I will tell you.”

Steeling herself for the outburst to follow, Jane kept her gaze on the table and poured her tea. “I am sorry, my dears, but Kinellan did not propose on the veranda last night.” That much was safe to say at least. Stick to the letter of the truth and she would be safe.

“But he did propose somewhere, surely, Jane?” Georgie frowned, looking like a child who’d been denied a sweet. “I can’t believe he means to stop his pursuit of you all together.”

Stirring her tea frantically, Jane took a deep breath. She could do this. For Kinellan’s sake. She just needed to stay as close to the truth as possible. “Well, Georgie, it seems he . . . we . . .” Oh, bother. What was she supposed to say if she was to keep his confidence?

“Jane! You haven’t refused him again, have you?” The disgust on Fanny’s face made her cringe. Of course, after her outburst yesterday it was entirely appropriate. “And after your moaning and groaning about it yesterday. Kinellan will be a right bounder out at the shoot today. We’d best hope he doesn’t shoot one of his guests instead of the grouse.”

“Really, Jane.” Charlotte took up a roll and slathered it with butter. “You should not keep the man on tenterhooks so long. If you truly do not wish to wed him, you must tell him so.”

“Charlotte is right, my dear.” Elizabeth shook her head gravely. “You do Kinellan a disservice to keep him on the string.” She took Jane’s hand. “Why not marry him, Jane? You do seem rather fond of him, and he of you. I thought I would never marry after Dickon, but when Jemmy came along . . .”

“When Jemmy came along, you turned up increasing, Elizabeth. Please don’t leave out that pertinent fact.” She hated to turn the tables so abruptly, but it would act as a good distraction. “I doubt you would be Lady Brack this moment if you and he hadn’t succumbed to that awful pagan festival.”

The shocked look on Elizabeth’s face cut her to the bone. She would never wish to hurt her friend, but neither did she wish to disappoint Kinellan.

“That is truly neither here nor there, Jane.” Charlotte tried to smooth their ruffled feathers. “All Elizabeth meant, I believe, is that if you are still mourning Tark, we can understand that. However, you should consider if remaining the way you are, with regards to your understanding with Lord Kinellan, will be the happiest solution for you both.”