Page 67

Jane tensed, blinking, twisting the beautiful fan Mrs. Newman’s assistant had handcrafted for her from the same silvery material as her dress.

As though reading her thoughts, Richard leaned over to her and squeezed her elbow covertly and reassuringly. “You have every right to be here, no matter what anyone else says. Do not forget that.”

She glanced up at him, wishing she could see him more clearly.

“Your beauty radiates from within, love,” he said and produced a rectangular box from his coat. “The dress you are wearing is like a beautiful frame that only enhances what I already see.”

She took the box and opened it. Through her blurry vision, she saw a pair of spectacles. They looked like lorgnettes—the decorative, fashionable accessory that was held in front of the eyes with a handle—because they were oval, with the outer edges curving upward slightly. But unlike lorgnettes, these had two arms that fit over the ears. The frames were made of shiny gold with exquisite, delicate patterns adorned with small sparkling diamonds. She couldn’t breathe at the beauty of the gift, at his sentiment.

“This is too much…” she murmured, unable to look away. “This must have cost you a fortune.”

“This is not even close to what I’d like to shower you with,” he said, making her feel all warm and tingly. “I ordered them from an optician a few days ago, but I don’t know if you will be able to see well in them. Please, try them on.”

“Thank you, Richard, but I can’t accept them,” she said as she looked up at him.

“I insist,” he said. “Please. At least for this ball. Clearly, you’re not seeing well, and you shouldn’t compromise who you are for the sake of fashion or others’ opinions.”

He was certainly right—she was frustrated not being able to see clearly. She took the spectacles from the box and slipped them on. The world around her immediately came into focus, and she sighed in relief from the clarity and sharpness of her vision.

She caught the intense gaze of his sparkling blue eyes. There was nothing but love in them. Nothing but admiration and support. She straightened her back and beamed. She knew she’d never looked or felt more beautiful. She felt so light, she could soar. The sensation was wonderful, new, and…odd.

“Breathtaking,” said Richard.

This was a royal ball, with the highest nobility and the most beautiful ladies in London.

How could Richard look at her in such a crowd as if no one else mattered?

Bubbles of excitement and exhilaration gurgled in the pit of her stomach. Was this how it felt to belong here? To belong with Lord Richard Seaton, the brother of the twelfth Duke of Grandhampton, one of the oldest and richest families in England?

To see how people watched her not with disgust, pity, or puzzlement, but with appreciation and respect.

Lady Whitemouth’s lips curved down as she looked Jane over. And Jane’s palms broke into a sweat in her gloves. But then a smile spread on the countess’s face, and she and several other older matrons in silks and with feathers in their hair made their way to Jane, Richard, and Calliope.

“Miss Grant,” Lady Whitemouth said as she stopped in front of them, her blond hair done in fashionable curls under a turban with three long feathers. She wore a peach silk gown that Jane recognized from Madame Dubois’s shop. “Lady Calliope. Lord Richard.”

Richard’s grandmama was by her side. With them stood Lady Isabella, always pretty, in a white gown, her bodice draped with lace that sparkled with small crystals. Lady Isabella gave Jane a friendly smile. “How do you do, Lady Whitemouth?” asked Jane. “Lady Isabella?”

“I’m well, Miss Grant,” said Lady Isabella. “Thank you for asking. You two are quite a dashing couple tonight. You, too, of course, Lady Calliope,” she said and blushed.

Calliope smiled back at her warmly.

“Quite,” said Lady Whitemouth, eyeing her suspiciously. “Miss Grant, you have quite…blossomed since I last saw you.”

Jane swallowed. The countess surely couldn’t know what Jane and Richard had done…could she?

“And now you look just like your dear deceased mama,” added the Dowager Duchess of Grandhampton.

Jane couldn’t breathe for a moment. Tears burned the backs of her eyes.

“Thank you,” said Jane. “I wish my papa were alive to say that to me. But it means very much to me that you can.”

The dowager’s eyes warmed as she cocked her head. “You do her proud.”

She knew there was nothing more that anyone could have said to make her feel at ease but provide the approval of her mama. At the end of the day, doing her mama, whom Jane had never known but often imagined, proud meant more than impressing the ton. And, surrounded and supported by Richard and Calliope, she felt as if she were a part of them. As if she were finally accepted by the ton.

A handsome golden-haired man in uniform suddenly appeared next to Lady Whitemouth. He was as tall as Richard and built just as well—lean and muscled. He had a straight nose, a square jaw, and there was an unmistakable air of arrogance around him.

“Lord Richard.” He nodded to Richard. “Lady Whitemouth.” His eyes focused on Jane, looking her over in admiration. How strange it was, thought Jane, to have a handsome man look at her like that. She’d never experienced that, except with Richard. “And who’s this? And is she free for a dance?”