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Having spent the last eight months first in hospitals, then in the overheated drawing rooms of the ton, Jenna found herself reveling in this lively debate of real issues and meaningful ideas. Moreover, Vernier's comments showed him to be a keen observer who crafted his opinions carefully and was ready to listen to opposing views. An admirable trait, Jenna thought, and rather rare, military men generally having a tendency to forcefully assert the superiority of whatever action they promoted.
The men electing not to remain at table to take their port, the group retired to the parlor, Lady Mulhollan entertaining them upon the pianoforte while Lady Charlotte sang. A small group, including Colonel Vernier and their host, continued a low-voiced conversation in one corner.
As those ladies finished, Colonel Vernier broke away and came over with a smile, asking Jenna if she would like to stroll into the gallery and inspect their host's excellent collection of landscape paintings.
For a moment Jenna was taken aback. If Nelthorpe had suggested such a thing, she would immediately have suspected his reasons for wanting to get her alone. Given what she knew of the colonel's character, however, it didn't seemed creditable that he would attempt to take liberties, especially on such slight acquaintance. Curious what he did intend-and confident that she could protect herself if need be-she agreed.
They walked to the adjacent gallery, which showcased a number of fine landscapes, including several by Turner, a new artist whose diffused focus and violent colors were quite unusual. After admiring them, Jenna said, "Must you complete more consultations this evening?"
"No, we just finished the draft of the agenda the Duke requested, with which I think he shall be pleased."
"You seem to enjoy diplomatic service."
"I do. Having been a soldier throughout the Peninsula and at Waterloo, I, like you, have a great stake in securing the peace so many gave their lives to win. And now that, praise God, we've no longer a war to fight, I find the diplomatic process interesting and nearly as exciting as soldiering. If somewhat lonely."
Jenna laughed. "From what Lady Mulhollan has been telling us of the throng of visitors in Vienna for the talks, the beauty and charm of the ladies and the gaiety of the entertainments, I take leave to doubt that!"
"Oh, there are crowds of people and scores of entertainments. But in the midst of all that, one can still be lonely."
His words struck a resonant chord, and Jenna's smile faltered. "One certainly can."
"I see my observation upset you," Vernier said, studying her face. "Pray, excuse me."
Jenna forced back the smile. '"Tis not your fault. Sadness is a constant companion, but I do not intend to let it monopolize me tonight."
"I am glad of it! I did not mean to suggest my reasons for melancholy are nearly as compelling as yours.
I've simply found that I sometimes wish I were back in the field, in the company of comrades with whom one could speak freely without worrying over every nuance."
"I imagine 'tis wearying to be always on display."
"Indeed! Having had no assurance of surviving the war, until our final victory I shied away from making commitments not connected with my army duties. But now that I shall probably, praise God, never walk a battlefield again, I find that I-I long to have someone with whom I can spend time without having to watch every word. Someone who finds the work I do important, who would enjoy discussing it, perhaps even offering advice."
So, Jenna thought, the colonel is looking for a wife-or a long-term lover. And apparently he was concluding that she might fit the requirements.
Maybe she would. And maybe he could fit hers.
"I think all of us seek that," she said at last.
He held her gaze. "Do we? Then I am emboldened to speak further. Before you think, in presuming to proceed, that I am not giving due regard to your widowhood and the brevity of our acquaintance, please hear me out!"
He inhaled a shaky breath. Incredibly enough, Jenna realized, this seasoned soldier who had withstood wave after wave of attacking French infantrymen was nervous. About addressing her.
The thought was so ludicrous, she had to bite her lip to keep from giggling. Fearsome Jenna Montague, making a gazetted hero tremble.
"As you may have guessed, I shall be in London only a short time, and in any event, it is far too early for you to consider what you will do after your year of mourning ends. But as I likely will be away from London most of those months, and because you have made a most deep and striking impression on me in the few days since we were presented, I wanted to beg you to consider allowing me to call on you when I do return-once you are ready to entertain calls from gentlemen, that is."
He cleared his throat and ran a finger along the edge of his uniform collar, as if it were suddenly too tight.
Jenna found this evidence of uncertainty in the hitherto supremely confident colonel rather endearing. "I should be honored. Now, that was not so bad, was it?"
He looked at her sharply, then grinned. "Was it so obvious? I must confess, I'd rather have undergone a barrage from Boney's artillery! I'm afraid I'm not much at expressing myself with ladies."
Jenna laughed. "That, Colonel, I refuse to believe!"
"Making fulsome compliments or conducting light flirtation is a great deal different from referring to that which deeply touches the heart. Now, I should get you back- not that you need worry that our absence might cause talk. We are among friends tonight, none of whom engage in gossip. But our host shall be very cross with me if I monopolize your company any longer."
He offered his arm, and during the transit back to the parlor, kept her amused with a story of a contretemps between one of Wellington's staff and a Prussian officer. When they reached the threshold, though, he halted and brought her fingers to his lips.
"Thank you, my lady, for warming my heart with hope."
Lady Charlotte raised a speculative eyebrow as they entered, but said nothing to Jenna until some time later, when she accompanied her to the ladies' withdrawing room.
"Did you have a pleasant chat with the colonel?"
"Yes," Jenna replied. "I found the landscapes striking, especially those by Mr. Turner."
"Vernier was not importunate, I trust," Lady Charlotte said, a trace of anxiety in her tone.
"Oh, no! Quite the gentleman. Would you have reason to suspect otherwise?"
"Not really, else I would never have allowed him to spirit you away. Though he is more Lord Riverton's friend than mine, I have never heard of him going beyond what is courteous and attentive. Which he has certainly been to you. In fact, he has been so unusually attentive I felt I must assure you that I have not been playing matchmaker!"
Jenna gave her a look. "Have you not?"
"Only so far as to introduce him and then agree to include you in several entertainments we were to attend."
"He did mention during our walk that he would like permission to call upon me, once he's completed his mission in Vienna," Jenna confessed. "When I am ready, he said. If I'm ever ready," she added in an undertone.
Lady Charlotte pressed her hand. "I did wonder, now that the war was over, if he might decide 'twas time to seek a wife. But I understand your hesitance and shall be happy to help warn him away, if you wish."
"I don't think that will be necessary, but thank you."
Lady Charlotte shook her head. "During my widowhood, I have been subjected to far too many matchmaking schemes by well-meaning friends and relations ever to indulge in such meddling myself."
Lady Charlotte's vehemence was convincing, if a bit surprising. "You have no desire to remarry?"
Lady Charlotte continued to adjust the pins in her golden hair, remaining silent for so long Jenna began to regret asking so personal a question. Finally she said softly, "I was an impetuous young girl when I married, convinced that my handsome husband and I should be eternally happy. But over the course of our marriage, I discovered that...that his desire for an heir was stronger than his affection for me."
When Jenna murmured sympathetically, she added, "Of course, every man wants an heir, so I cannot really fault him for growing bitter when we suffered disappointment after disappointment. Still, that young girl's heart never recovered. I suppose I've become a coward, unwilling to trust that any vows of affection could withstand the trials time and adversity make upon marriage."
Even Lord Riverton's, Jenna heard the unspoken conclusion. Thanks to the loquacious Lady Montclare, she'd been told the full story of the duke's lovely daughter who'd been courted by two rival suitors, one whom she married and the other who had swallowed his disappointment to remain her lifelong friend.
How sad, Jenna thought, recalling as they walked back to the parlor how often Riverton's gaze lingered on Lady Charlotte, how he seemed ever ready to escort or assist her. Ready to be so much more.
Yet she could understand just how hard it was to risk the precarious peace one had painfully assembled out of the wreckage of one's dream by daring to embrace another.
Which recalled to her Nelthorpe's speculation that someone might have assisted in the wreckage of hers. He'd urged her to leave Fairchild House and seek refuge with Lady Charlotte.
While, for the reasons she'd given him, she had no intention of doing so at this moment, perhaps it would be wise to confide their suspicions to this lady who was highly-placed enough that, should something happen to Jenna, her demand for an inquiry into the affair would not be easily dismissed.
