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“You know, you could be right,” said Marianne, looking thoughtful. “Charles is not wealthy or titled. His family is genteel but impoverished. Papa might not approve a match, out of concern for Jane’s future. They might be in love and feel that they are unable to wed. That could explain why Jane has spurned even the thought of marriage.”
Percy shifted in his chair uneasily. If that was the case, it would make his pursuit of Jane even harder. But on the other hand, Marianne didn’t really know. He had put the idea into her head—she had clearly never considered the possibility that her younger sister might be secretly in love with this friend of hers.
“Are you serious about her, Percy?” asked Marianne in a quiet voice. “Do you genuinely like and admire her?”
“I do,” he said in a sincere voice. It wasn’t a lie. Hedidadmire Lady Jane, and he liked her well enough as well. In fact, he was growing to like her more every time he spoke to her. “And I believe that we could be well suited. I like her unconventional streak and the fact that she is not ambitious. She is not intent on catching a wealthy or titled husband. It is refreshing.”
“I know how much the ladies like that tire you,” said Marianne. “You have discussed it with Henry and me often.” She hesitated. “I would caution you, though, Percy. Our cousin Lucy is acting devastated that you are not favouring her, and Lucy can cause trouble if provoked. Her nose is well and truly put out that you did not call on her the other day. She was simply astounded you could prefer Jane to her.”
Percy frowned. “I cannot help it if your cousin is put out, Marianne. I just want to know what my chances are with Jane.”
Marianne sighed. “Jane is stubborn. I simply do not know. But if you are sincere in your regard for her, then I shall encourage it when I can. All I ask is that you do not hurt her.”
“Hurt her?” Percy looked astonished. “I have no desire to hurt her.”
“Of course, you do not,” said Marianne, smiling at him. “You have my blessing, for all it is worth. But it shall be hard work. And make sure that you do not encourage Lucy at all, for fear of fuelling her infatuation. Even one dance or warm smile in her direction might be all it takes to convince her she has a chance with you. Lucy isveryambitious indeed.”
Percy nodded, but he thought Marianne was being a bit melodramatic. Lady Lucy was young, probably barely twenty, and while clearly ambitious with her sights set on a good marriage, he didn’t think she would be a problem. Not like some of the ladies he had met over the years.
He was fairly sure Lucy would simply move on to the next eligible gentleman without much rancour. Lucy reminded him a bit of a child who desired a toy but was easily distracted by another.
The shop bell tinkled. He glanced towards the door. To his surprise, it was the black-haired lady rider he had met the other day at Cliff Lodge. Miss Beatrice Prescott. An older lady followed her, settling herself at a table at the back of the shop.
The lady noticed him immediately, fixing her brown eyes upon him.
“Lord Carlisle,” she said, giving him a dazzling white smile. “How lovely.”
“Miss Prescott,” he said. “Are you well?”
“Never better,” she said, her smile widening. “You are still going to the Lethbridge ball, are you not?”
He nodded. “Indeed.”
“Perfect,” she said. “Until then.” She gave him a wave before joining the other lady.
Percy turned back to Marianne. Her eyebrows were raised. “How do you know Miss Prescott? Did you dance with her at the Kensington’s ball?”
He shook his head. “No, I encountered her when she was riding the other day. She introduced herself. She seems like a pleasant lady.”
“Beatrice Prescott?” Marianne’s voice was low and incredulous. “Do not let her fool you, Percy. She is as ambitious as they come. And she is more sophisticated in her games than poor little Lucy. Beatrice is also far cleverer. She will have you in her snare quicker than you realise. Be warned.”
Percy gazed surreptitiously at the lady on the other table. He had suspected as much. Miss Prescott was very flirtatious indeed.
“I stand warned,” he said. “Now, do you think it is too soon to call on your sister again? What do you say, Marianne?”
Marianne laughed. “As long as you do not propose again, and approach things at a slower pace, then where is the harm? You never know. I still have hope that Jane will let go of her insistence that she remain a spinster, and you know how fond I am of you, Percy. Stranger things have happened.”
***
Jane was sitting in the window alcove, working on her sketch of the sea as viewed from Cliff Lodge, when she saw a carriage draw up to the front of the house. To her intense surprise, it was Lord Carlisle.
He was clutching another posy of flowers in his hand, but this was different to the one he had brought her the other day. The one the other day had been a generic mix of garden flowers. The posy he held in his hand today was a mixture of wildflowers that she knew grew close to the beach.
He also held a small black velvet box. Her heart shifted uneasily. Was he bringing her jewellery?
Panic filled her heart. She had thought she had put him off, well and truly. And now, here he was, bearing gifts with a determined look upon his face.
She had no idea why he was doing this.
