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Jennette glanced up the sweeping staircase to see a woman in her mid-thirties looking down at them in a haughty manner. Her mother stiffened slightly and Jennette wondered briefly if it was because she was now the dowager Lady Selby. Wanting to give her mother a bit of comfort, Jennette clasped her hand. Her mother patted it in understanding.
“And of course, the dowager Lady Selby and Lady Jennette, welcome to my home,” Lady Aston said, slowly walking down the steps. She glanced over at Jennette with an upturned lip.
“Thank you for inviting us,” her mother replied in a soft tone so unlike her.
“I have put you two together,” Lady Aston said, motioning for a footman. “I assumed you would want to watch over your daughter.”
Jennette’s mouth gaped. She started to give the woman a proper upbraiding but her mother squeezed her hand forcefully.
“Thank you, Lady Aston. I appreciate your looking out for my daughter’s welfare.”
Lady Aston smiled tightly. “We mothers must watch over our children.”
Jennette could not believe the nerve of this woman. She had no idea why Lady Aston appeared to dislike her so. That question would have to wait until she could question her mother in private.
Following the footman, Jennette walked up the stairs and down the opulent hallway. To her, the house was overdone. Massive gilt picture frames hung on the walls. Heavy velvet curtains covered the large windows, blocking out most of the daylight. And the colors were dreadful. The footman opened the door to their room.
“Your maid will be up presently with your trunks,” he said then disappeared as he closed the door.
Jennette shook her head. “This room is oppressive.”
Her mother gave her an angry look. “Don’t even start refurbishing that woman’s house.”
“Why is she so distasteful?” Jennette plopped down on the bed closer to the window. “What does she think I will do whilst I’m here? Be found in a compromising position? Use the wrong fork with dinner? That woman was dreadful to both of us.”
Her mother removed her bonnet and tossed it on the bed. “This has nothing to do with you, my dear.”
“Indeed? Whatever did you do to anger the lady?”
Her mother’s mouth pinched and her dark eyebrows rose. “She had an infatuation with your brother when she was one and twenty. He was only eighteen and far from ready to marry. But she decided to attempt to compromise herself in order to force the issue.”
Jennette covered her mouth to keep from laughing. “What happened?”
“I overheard her talking about her plan with her best friend. She intended for her friend to walk in on them. I sent Lord Aston in Banning’s stead.”
“Mother!”
Her mother only waved a hand at her. “When you have children, you will understand that a mother will do anything to protect them.”
Except Jennette doubted she would ever have children at this point in her life. She was already on the shelf by most people’s estimation. By the time she had settled into her new life in Florence, she would be in her late-twenties. How many men wanted a woman that old? They all wanted young and fertile ladies for brides.
There were days she wished she had allowed John a few more intimacies than he had taken. She wondered if it was too late for her now. Would she die an innocent spinster?
And why did that thought suddenly make her think of Matthew? Worse, she couldn’t help but remember the velvety texture of his tongue as it caressed hers. The feel of his large hands cupping her derrière, pressing her hips closer to his manhood.
She had to stop these dreadful thoughts. She could never have Matthew. He was a gambler who would go through her money like water.
Matthew lay back against the soft bed thankful for the private room. After a few hours in the carriage with Somerton, he needed to be alone. Not that anyone would call Somerton a chatty fellow—just the opposite, in fact. The stony silence in the carriage had felt strangling and uncomfortable.
But it had given him time to think and wonder about whom Jennette would introduce him to this week. He would give any lady his complete attention, no wandering erotic thoughts about Jennette.
She was out of the question.
She would always be John’s woman. While they had all been friends, Matthew had always known she preferred John. He’d had the title and someday would have inherited the lands and money. Matthew had been a second son with no prospects. John had the blond hair and blue eyes. She had loved him. They’d desired each other and just like five years ago, Matthew was the odd man out.
He’d been terribly envious of John’s relationship with her. And he’d known John wasn’t the perfect man for Jennette. Still, Matthew had lost two friends that day.
A knock pulled him out of his musing. “Yes?”
