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She glanced back towards the parlour. She could still hear the faint buzz of chatter and laughter from within. But very soon, the dinner gong would sound, and everyone would be drifting to the dining room. She didn’t want them to be missed or late, causing tongues to wag. Once again, she felt irritated that he had chosen this moment to drop such a bombshell upon her.
“I will leave you,” he said in a clipped tone. “I can see you want to join the party.” His eyes narrowed. “It is not because of the Earl of Carlisle, is it?”
Jane reeled back in shock. “What do you know of the Earl of Carlisle?”
His face twisted. “Just that he has been paying you attention recently. And that you have not been discouraging it.” He glanced at her gown. “What other reason would you have for suddenly wearing gowns like this when you usually dress like a nun?”
Jane felt like he had slapped her across the face. His tone was full of contempt and anger. It didn’t sound like Charles at all. And who on earth had been telling him about the Earl and the attention he had been paying her?
Lucy, she thought abruptly. It could only be my cousin, intent upon causing mischief, as always.
Marianne stepped out onto the balcony, walking towards them. “My dears, I have it on good authority that the dinner is about to commence. It is time to come back inside.” She paused, staring at them both, her face turning from one to the other. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing at all,” said Jane, biting her lip to stop herself from bursting into tears. “Let us go inside.”
She walked off, not even bothering to see if either of them was following her. She felt immensely upset. Charles had ambushed her with his confession of being in love with her, and then he had questioned her about the Earl in a scornful way. She hadn’t been expecting any of it, and she didn’t know how she was going to go ahead with the evening at all. How she could talk and converse in a normal manner after what had happened.
She stopped suddenly. The Earl of Carlisle was staring straight at her with a questioning look upon his face. She kept walking quickly, attaching herself to Matilda. Mercifully, she had at least one friend in this crowd, along with Marianne, of course.
“Jane,” said Matilda, frowning slightly. “You are pale, dearest. Are you well?”
“Never better,” lied Jane, forcing a smile onto her face, trying to push it all out of her mind. This night had veered wildly out of control, and she simply had no idea how to get it back on course.
Chapter 19
Percy watched Jane across the dinner table covertly. She was pale and had barely touched any of the courses all evening. Now, she was stabbing at the dessert with her spoon, looking like she wanted to attack it. Evidently, something was bothering her.
He stirred uneasily. He had resolved himself to avoid her and had been intending to do just that when he had seen her walk into the parlour of the house this evening. It hadn’t been that hard at first—both Beatrice Prescott and Lady Lucy had swamped him, vying for his attention, and for once, he had been happy to give it. Anything to take his mind off Jane.
But it had proved a little harder when he had watched her walk out onto the balcony with Charles Crawford. It had taken all his willpower to not follow them. His stomach had been curdling with jealousy. They seemed to be taking an awfully long time out there. What was happening?
When she had finally returned to the parlour, he knew that something was wrong. She was pale and tears were shining in her green eyes. She kept her composure, but her mood hadn’t improved during dinner. Charles Crawford seemed to be avoiding her, as well. Percy would bet his last guinea that they had fought on that balcony. What had happened to upset her so much?
Mercifully, dinner finally ended. The gentlemen headed to Mr Rhodes’s study for brandy and cigars while the ladies went back to the parlour. When the gentlemen headed back there, he gazed around, seeking her out. But she was nowhere to be seen.
He frowned. Marianne and Lucy were still here, so she couldn’t have gone far. He excused himself, heading back down the long hallway of the house. As he was passing the library, he heard a faint sob from within.
His breath caught in his throat. Slowly, he pushed the door open. Jane was standing in the middle of the room, looking forlorn. A single tear was trickling down her cheek.
She jumped when she saw him, hastily wiping her face with the back of her hand.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered. “Why are you disturbing me?”
He frowned. “I didn’t know you were in here. I was merely passing when I heard a sound. That was all.”
She gave a wistful sigh. “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I just needed a moment alone.” She took a deep, ragged breath. “I am ready to join the party again.”
She went to brush past him, but he reached out, putting a hand on her arm. “Wait. Clearly you are upset. What is wrong?”
She laughed, but it was not a happy sound. “You asked me at the Tyler’s ball whether there was anything between Charles Crawford and myself.” She hesitated, biting her lip. “I thought there was not, but obviously, I was wrong. He confessed his love to me this evening.”
Percy’s frown deepened. His instinct had been right—he had suspected the man was in love with her.
“I have hurt him,” she continued, her face twisting. “I rejected him, and he is angry with me. It is most distressing. He is one of my dearest friends, and I cannot bear for him to hate me now.”
Percy’s heart started pounding hard. “It was the right thing to do, by the sound of it.”
He felt exalted. She had rejected Crawford. She wasn’t secretly in love with the man, then. She hadn’t lied to him.
