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Jane walked off the dance floor with Charles, feeling a little breathless after the dance. She felt inordinately happy. She had not been expecting her old friend to be here at all. She had not even known he was in Seaborne.
“Why did you not write to tell me you were coming?” she demanded.
Charles procured two flutes of champagne from a passing footman’s tray. He handed one to her, his blue eyes teasing as he gazed at her over the rim of his own glass.
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” he said, taking a deep sip. “It is just a quick visit. I am staying with my aunt and uncle. My uncle wants some help with his accounts. You know how muddle-headed he is with finances.” He rolled his eyes. “I was intending to visit you, Jane, so you can wipe that offended look off your face.”
Jane laughed, taking a sip of champagne. It was always the same between them—a deep affection that had taken root when they were just children. Charles used to climb over the fence and play with her in her garden when they were small. His mother used to scold him when she couldn’t find him. Charles hadn’t cared. He wasn’t reckless, but he had always been high-spirited. It was one of the reasons Jane liked him.
Jane knew that their close friendship was unconventional. As they had grown older, his mother and hers had tried to discourage it, saying it wasn’t appropriate for a young gentleman and lady to be so familiar with each other. Her mother had been mindful of Jane’s reputation being ruined. But both Charles and Jane had blithely ignored them. They both knew what the truth of their friendship was and that it would never be compromised in such a way.
“All right, I am mollified,” said Jane, laughing. “You have redeemed yourself, Charles. Just.”
His eyes twinkled. “Does that mean you will dance with me again this evening then?”
“Perhaps,” she laughed. “If I can fit you on my dance card.”
“You tease,” he said, taking another sip of champagne. “You are a wallflower and proud of it, Jane. You have no one on your dance card.”
Jane kept smiling, but for some strange reason, she felt a little hurt by his comment. Why did she suddenly care that everyone knew her to be a wallflower? Why did she have to resist the impulse to tell him that she could be anything that she wanted to be and that he should not pigeonhole her in such a way?
But she already knew the reason why it offended her now. It was because of the Earl of Carlisle. And suddenly, she saw the man himself staring at her from across the room. He looked surly, as if he was unhappy with her in some way. Her heart lurched. What on earth was wrong with him?
Chapter 16
Jane walked down the long hallway of the Tyler residence towards the large French doors leading out to the garden. She needed some fresh air, and the heel of one of her slippers felt a little loose. She would find somewhere to sit to look at it and take the opportunity to catch her breath.
The air was cool upon her face as she walked down the path before she sank down onto a bench. She took a deep breath, smelling the intermingled scent of roses and lavender. It felt good to be away from the crowd, even just for a little while. Her mind was whirring, and she needed to think.
The Earl of Carlisle was acting oddly towards her this evening. She had felt his eyes upon her the entire night, and yet he never approached her, not even to say hello. She had given in to Charles and danced with him another two times.
She had tried not to notice that the Earl was watching her intently. He seemed disinclined to dance this evening, rebuffing Lucy and all the other young ladies who always clamoured eagerly around him, searching for a small sliver of attention from him.
Jane frowned. Had she displeased him in some way? Perhaps he had grown cool towards her after their talk the other day on the pier, finally realising she was serious about remaining unmarried. Her heart sank at the thought and her eyes filled with tears. She knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn’t seem to help it.
“Have you finally decided to take a breath after all that dancing?”
She jumped, whirring around. A figure was standing there, shrouded in darkness. But she recognised that voice now. Her heart leapt.
It was he. Lord Carlisle. Had he followed her out here?
“The heel of my slipper is loose,” she said in a high, breathless voice. “I need to look at it for fear it will come off entirely.”
He sat down beside her on the bench. “Pass it here. I shall look at it for you if you like.”
Jane’s heart was thudding in her chest. She knew she should refuse the odd request. It wasn’t appropriate to take off one’s slipper and give it to a gentleman, especially when they were quite alone. There was no one else out here at all. The sound of the chatter and laughter from the house sounded muted, as if they were side by side in a bubble.
“I am good at fixing such things,” he said slowly. “I promise to take care with it.”
Jane nodded hesitantly before slipping it off and handing it to him. He turned it over, staring at the heel, prodding and turning it. Jane could barely breathe as she watched him, so intent on his task, as if it was the most important thing in the world.
“There,” he said, satisfaction in his voice. “It just needed tightening.”
Jane nodded, waiting for him to hand it back to her. But instead, he fell onto his knees in front of her before taking her ankle in his hand. He placed the slipper gently on her foot, making sure it was secure.
His hand around her ankle felt like a circle of fire. Suddenly, she longed for him to caress her leg, for his hand to slip gently up her calf so that she could feel his touch through the silk of her stockings. Her heart hammered as she stared at his dark hair, bent over her foot. It was the most intimate thing a man had ever done to her.
