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Freddie just laughed. Percy glowered at him. He knew he was being surly to his friend, who was only teasing him, but the plain truth was that Freddie’s words had hit closer to the bone than Percy had expected. It was beginning to feel like his friend’s prediction that he was falling a little in love with Lady Jane was true.
He shook himself, trying to dispel it. He didn’t recognise the feeling, and he didn’t like it at all. Hewaslike a bee in a bottle over her. She seemed to be all he could think about, and he wasn’t used to obsessing over ladies in this way.
His discreet affairs in the past had always followed the same pattern. They were sensual, physical, and totally devoid of any strong feeling. He had been fond of some of the ladies, but that was as far as it went. He had always guarded his heart well, but it had never been particularly difficult. None of them had ever tested his resolve to never fall in love.
“I have spotted the lady you are looking for,” said Freddie wryly, interrupting his reverie. “She is on the dance floor.”
Percy whipped his head around, following his friend’s gaze. Yes, he could just see Lady Jane through the crowd thronging the entranceway to the room. She was wearing a different ball gown this evening instead of the plain one she usually wore, he noted. This one was pale pink silk, with a tiny amount of embroidery along the bodice. It wasn’t ostentatious, but it was certainly much more elaborate than what she usually wore.
It suited her figure,he thought, his eyes rivetted upon her. The gown accentuated the long line of her willowy body. She had taken more care with her hair than usual, too. It was done up in an elegant, intricate chignon rather than scraped back into a plain bun. Her earlobes were gleaming with diamonds, and she wore a simple matching diamond necklace.
She looked beautiful. Stunning, in fact, in an understated, elegant way. She usually dressed simply, so he wasn’t used to seeing her like this at all, deliberately accentuating her tall, lithe figure and other attributes.
Quite simply, she took his breath away.
He felt his loins begin to stir. He wanted her. He had always known it, felt the sensual connection between them, but seeing her like this made the flame roar into a fire. His hands tightened into fists by his sides.
Then he saw her dance partner. A man of average height, with messy dark hair and blue eyes. They were chatting and laughing together in an intimate way as they passed each other in the dance. Jane’s green eyes were sparkling. She looked the happiest that he had ever seen her, as if she were truly comfortable.
He felt a sharp stab of jealousy thrust upwards in his chest. It was so unexpected and strange that he almost didn’t recognise the feeling. He had never really felt jealousy before and certainly never because of a woman.
His fists were so tight now it took an enormous effort to stop himself lashing out and hitting a wall. He knew he was being ridiculous in the extreme, but that didn’t stop the ugly emotion curling ever upwards like a snake through his body, poisoning him with its venom.
Who is the man she is dancing with?
He didn’t think he had ever seen the man at a social event around here before, but that meant little. Percy was new to this area after all; he was only just beginning to recognise people. He kept staring at the dancing couple, struggling to contain himself.
“Lord Carlisle,” said a feminine voice to his left.
Percy spun around. Miss Prescott was standing there, regarding him carefully with her large brown eyes. She was dressed as usual in pure white, large sapphires hanging around her neck.
“Miss Prescott,” he said, his heart sinking. He didn’t want to have to deal with the lady, especially not when he was in the grip of such strong emotion. He just wanted to be left alone. He turned to speak to Freddie, wanting to include him in the conversation so as to take the pressure off himself, but his friend had vanished. Freddie was no doubt looking for Miss Grey, as always, or had spotted her in the crowd.
“Are you watching the dancers?” asked Miss Prescott, her eyes fixed upon him. “You look rather distracted.”
He was about to steer the conversation away when he paused. Perhaps the lady might be useful and know who the mysterious man was dancing with Lady Jane.
“I was just wondering who the gentleman is standing up with Lady Jane Metcalfe,” he said in as casual a tone as he could muster. “I do not recall seeing him before, and he looks vaguely familiar.” A lie, but it might put her off the scent that he was asking out of jealousy.
Miss Prescott smiled slowly. “His name is Mr Charles Crawford, my lord,” she replied. “His family resided in Seaborne for many years, but they live in an outlying village now. But Mr Crawford sometimes returns here to see friends.” She paused. “Lady Jane is one such old friend. They grew up next door to one another.”
“I see,” said Percy, his mind whirling. This was the man Marianne had told him about. The one he had said Lady Jane might secretly be in love with. “His face did look familiar, but I am certain now I have not met him before. The name does not ring a bell.”
Miss Prescott laughed. “No, indeed, I would be surprised if you knew Mr Crawford. He does not leave the district very often and loathes Brighton and London.” She lowered her voice, speaking behind her fan. “I have always suspected that Mr Crawford and Lady Jane hold a candle for each other. They are extremely close friends, and that is rather unusual between a gentleman and an unmarried lady.”
“Yes, it is,” said Percy in a strangled voice. “Have you ever heard any gossip about them?”
The question just slipped out of his mouth. Immediately, he despised himself for it. He didn’t usually indulge in gossip-mongering, considering it a low sport. But it seemed he just couldn’t help himself. He was desperate to know what was between them.
He held his breath as he waited for the lady’s reply. Miss Prescott’s eyes widened, and she smiled in a provocative way. It looked like she might indeed have a snippet of gossip about the exact nature of their friendship.
But just at that moment, Marianne approached. Percy flushed. He didn’t want her to hear what he had been talking about with Miss Prescott. Lady Jane was her beloved sister, after all. He didn’t want Marianne to know that he had just been trawling for gossip about a possible love affair between Jane and Mr Charles Crawford. Marianne would not think well of him.
Lady Jane told me that she had never been in love, he thought.She said that her heart had never been broken. Would she lie?
Somehow, he didn’t think she would. Lady Jane just wasn’t the type of lady to do so. He had never met anyone as refreshingly honest as her—it was one of the reasons he liked her so much. But then, it had been an intimate question. Perhaps she was guarding her heart. Who knew?
He took a deep breath, trying to focus upon Marianne. But the jealousy kept gnawing at him. The only one who could answer honestly about Charles Crawford was Jane. And now, he was determined to seek her out and ask her. The sooner the better, before this emotion choked him entirely.
