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Heat stole through Jane.
“It is tremendously out of character, I assure you. I have never treated anyone to such a brazen outburst.”
“No harm done,” he said, “This has been an emotional time for all of us.”
“Indeed.” The problem was, now that she had kissed him, even on the spur of the moment, she wanted to kiss him again. “Would you be terribly offended if it happened again?”
Mister Foote pressed his lips together in thought.
“That depends. If it happened again right this moment, I would very much appreciate the freely given gift. However, if I was in the midst of a crowd of staff, it would be terribly inappropriate. Although I would nevertheless still appre-”
She kissed him again, more firmly and with deliberate endeavour.
Warm sensations spread through her body, making something strange unfurl inside her.
That something was called Hope.
“I do not have undeniable proof that the babe is not Lady Jardine’s, just the circumstances of his appearance and colouring. However, he could still be Lord Jardine’s babe. I do not know how husbands and wives treat each other after a dozen years of matrimony, but it would appear as if the time has not brought them closer together.”
“It can be the way of things.” Mister Foote said. “I have no doubt Lord Jardine wished very much to have a son and heir, and now he has one. Lady Jardine may be putting on a performance to save her position, and protect her daughters into the bargain.”
Jane nodded, “I suppose people have made stranger bargains than the Jardines.”
Mister Foote cleared his throat. “Speaking of bargains?”
Head in a fog, it took Jane a moment to realise what he referred to.
“Oh goodness! Must you raise that issue? I thought this news might bring a reprieve.”
“Oh?” Mr Foote’s face fell.
“Well,” heat tore through Jane’s body at the thought of what she’d proposed to Mr Foote earlier in the day. “We need not fear being cast out immediately?”
Mr Foote nodded, then worried the inside of his cheek in thought.
“Until the next boy child comes along.”
“What?” Jane latched onto the edge of his jacket to steady herself.
“Let us make sure we are not overheard,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to the Baron’s dressing room. Nobody would overhear them in this inner sanctum. “This does solve one issue, but it leaves the other unresolved. From what you have said, the babe may not be an Ealing, but it could well be a Jardine, and to expose the child’s maternity would see them all brought low.”
Jane knotted her brow.
“Lady Jardine will do the same to us the moment she has the opportunity!”
“Then let us beat her at her own game. I hereby offer my services to you. With the added benefit that my hair is reasonably similar to the Baron’s in shade, and you will have a far easier time of passing the babe off as the next Baron Ealing. The Jardine babe still inherits the Viscount’s title when his father passes, and will not suffer for his parents’ deceptions. Neither will the daughters, who as the children of a Viscount, will be able to make good marriages.”
Jane stepped closer to him and placed her hand around Mister Foote’s neck. She pulled herself in for another kiss. This time, her mouth opened of its own volition. He matched his lips to hers, sending sparks all the way to her fingers and toes when the tip of his tongue danced against hers. A cramp of lust stole through her belly, then something lower came to life. She didn’t know what to name it, she only knew she must answer its call.
“We cannot use the bed, that would be sacrilege,” she suggested.
“I cannot walk to the bed in my current state,” Mister Foote replied. “Will the floor suffice?”
A breathless, “It will have to,” was her reply.
Mister Foote guided them down to the floor, then encouraged Jane to sit astride him. “It will be easier for you like this, and less chance of messing your hair.”
“But would it not fool the Lady Jardine to think her father has freshly tumbled me?”
