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“I am glad that I encountered you this morning,” he said in the same low voice. “I wanted to ask you a question. It has been playing upon my mind.”
“Really?” Her voice was still breathless. “What is it?”
“Why are you so adamant that you do not wish to marry?” he asked gently, gazing into her eyes. “I truly would like to know the answer.”
Jane hadn’t expected that. Her face started to burn. Of course, she couldn’t tell him the truth. She couldn’t tell him about the deathbed vow to her mother. It was far too personal. She had never told another living soul, not even her sister, who was the closest person to her on this earth.
“I just do not think marriage is for me,” she said, her flush deepening. “I have witnessed marriage in all its manifestations, and I have rarely seen a happy one. Especially for the woman.” She hesitated. “It does not seem to matter if it is a love match or a marriage of convenience.”
“I see,” he said, frowning slightly. “But a lady is at a disadvantage if she does not marry. She remains dependent upon her family for life. And she loses the opportunity to have children and a family of her own.”
“That is true,” said Jane in a faltering voice. “But my dear sister has promised that she shall always take care of me and that I shall have a home with her forever. As to not having children of my own, I suppose that is just the price I must pay for my conviction.”
He kept staring at her. His gaze was inscrutable.
“It is not because you have suffered a broken heart?” he asked eventually. “It is not because you have given your heart away and cannot bear the thought of marrying someone who is not the object of your affection?”
Jane couldn’t help it. The thought was so ludicrous that she burst out laughing. He looked shocked at first, then pleased.
“No, that is not the reason,” she said, shaking her head. “I am not suffering from a broken heart. I have never given my heart to a man, and nor do I ever intend to.”
He leaned closer towards her. So close that she felt his warm breath upon her face. She felt like she was falling down a tunnel.
“I see a man must work hard for your heart,” he whispered. “But that would make the acquisition all the sweeter, Lady Jane.”
She was drowning in his eyes. Her heart was racing erratically, and she could barely breathe. Desperately, she pulled back, trying to break the strange connection between them.
“You wandered off,” said an accusing voice that broke the spell.
They both jumped, spinning around. Lucy was standing there, staring at them, her blue eyes wide. Jane felt like she had just landed back on earth. It was disorienting. Beatrice Prescott and her mother had obviously continued to promenade.
“You should not monopolise the Earl, Cousin,” continued Lucy in a sharp voice. She turned to Lord Carlisle. “Can I show you the statue of the mermaid? It is a local landmark. You may find it interesting, my lord.”
Lord Carlisle shook himself, straightening his shoulders. “Of course, Lady Lucy.”
Lucy walked up to him, leading him away. Jane didn’t follow. She didn’t think that her feet could carry her anywhere at the moment. But then Marianne was by her side, taking her firmly by the arm.
“You are flushed, sister,” said Marianne in a whisper, staring at her thoughtfully. “I wonder why?”
Jane didn’t answer. She didn’t trust her voice at all. She simply let her sister lead her away.
The encounter with the Earl had been so brief. Merely a few moments. But it had been one of the most intimate encounters of her life.
And now, Jane knew for certain that the primary danger she faced was losing her heart to the man. She must be very careful indeed. She must try to avoid him like the plague. For no good could come of this.
She must keep her vow to her mother. And it wasn’t just because she had made a sacred pledge to someone she had loved. It was also because she saw now that her mother had spoken the truth.
Lord Carlisle was not offering her love. He made no pretence that his interest in her was simply pragmatic. And if she allowed herself to give in to her growing feelings towards him, her heart would end up broken, just like her mother’s had been all those years ago. Just like her mother had told her, it surely would.
Her mama had been correct. Romantic love only ever led to pain and sorrow.
Chapter 15
Percy gazed eagerly around the large, fashionable townhouse belonging to one Mr Aloysius Tyler, searching for Lady Jane. To his chagrin, he couldn’t seem to find her, even though he knew that she must be at this ball. He had already spoken to Marianne briefly and was just managing to dodge Lady Lucy.
“You are like a bee in a bottle, Carlisle,” said Freddie, who was standing by his side. His friend was grinning widely. “Searching for anyone in particular?”
Percy sighed heavily. “You can wipe that smug look off your face, Morland. You know very well who I am looking for. There is no need to make more of it than there is.”
