Chapter 18

18

With Jane by his side,Richard walked into the brightly lit salon of Lady Brewster’s mansion. His chest was queasy, his pulse drumming hard in his hand, which ached to reach out and take Jane’s.

Candlelit chandeliers twinkled overhead, casting their golden glow over the three dozen people who filled the drawing room with a hum of chatter and laughter. It was an intimate gathering rather than one of the lavish balls that Lady Brewster usually hosted. The dinner party, for which Richard, Calliope, and Jane were late, was finished. Now the guests—nobles, soldiers, poets, and beautiful women—talked, laughed, drank, and mingled.

Everywhere Richard looked, his gaze was met with roses: red, white, pink, peach, yellow, and every hue in between. The scent was heady and intoxicating, mixing with the perfume and cologne of the guests. The blossoms were artfully arranged in elaborate cascades upon the mantelpiece and along the deep moldings that topped the elegant oak paneling of the room. They even decorated the pianoforte skillfully played by Lady Isabella Greene.

The room was punctuated by high, arching windows, trimmed with heavy drapes that were pulled back to reveal the moonlit gardens full of rosebushes.

He remembered five years ago when he’d walked into the very same room with another fiancée. He’d been so happy then, had felt light and warm and like he could take on the whole world. It had been decorated similarly then, and the whole room had sparkled with the many jewels on the necks, ears, and in the elaborate hairstyles of the ladies and on the lapel pins and rings of the gentlemen. Feathers had swayed in the air as ladies talked and walked. The windows had been open, and fresh lilac-scented air had wafted in.

He needed to stop thinking about it. Needed to forget about how the last time he’d been here, he’d walked through those French doors and straight into the biggest heartbreak of his life.

The woman who stood next to him now was nothing like Lady Charity. As he glanced to his side to look at her, his breath caught, and all sad thoughts of Lady Charity evaporated. Heavens, she looked lovely with that silvery dress and a new hairstyle with locks gently falling over her right shoulder. Her arms were clad in silvery gloves that ended just above her elbows.

She was no gray mouse anymore. And no one could say her attire meant she did not belong here.

But her behavior gave her away.

She was nervous, with her gaze darting around the room. Her cheeks were flushed, and her palms were sweating. Her breathing increased as she took in all the glitz and pomp of the atmosphere.

Shamelessly, his gaze dropped down her neckline to the two half ovals protruding over the edge of her bodice. He couldn’t look away from the pretty fold between her breasts. Heavens, all her previous dresses had covered her chest up to her neck, so it was the first time he’d seen them.

He remembered the soft feel of them pressed against his chest as he’d kissed her on her bed. His gaze dropped lower still as he tried to guess how she looked under the high-waisted gown. Was her skin as soft everywhere? He could see the round curve of her hips as she walked, the shape of her long legs as the dress moved.

Could he look away from her at all?

“Should we go and greet Sebastian and Emma?” asked Calliope, who stood on his other side. “And they’re with Preston and Penelope.”

He cleared his throat and forced his gaze away from Jane. What a pity.

He looked around the room, searching for Sebastian’s familiar tall figure and Emma’s shorter figure.

“Yes, quite right,” he said as he spotted them ten feet away talking to his grandmama. “There they are. Come, Jane. You must meet our friends. And, of course, we cannot miss Grandmama, my brother, and Penelope.”

Sebastian, the Duke of Loxchester, was, as always, dashing and handsome with his dark blond hair, chiseled face, and amber eyes. He stood protectively next to his lovely, dark-haired wife, Emma. They had married shortly before Spencer’s disappearance and caused quite a scandal.

Preston, Penelope, and Grandmama greeted Jane warmly, and with relief, he saw her hands stop shaking.

Penelope beamed at Jane. “That frock suits you very much, Miss Grant.”

“May I present Miss Jane Grant,” Richard said to Sebastian and Emma. “My fiancée. And Jane, these are the Duke and the Duchess of Loxchester.”

“Quite pleased to meet you,” said Sebastian with an earnest smile. Since last September, when Emma had come into his life, he’d transformed. From a grump who sometimes failed to say a word the whole evening, he had started smiling and acquired the demeanor of someone who was quite content and happy in his life.

The same thing had happened with Preston, who’d always been a somber individual but had seemed to brighten and become warmer, thanks to Penelope.

“We heard about you, Miss Grant,” said Emma. “Preston told us and then, of course, there was the announcement in the paper this morning.”

“You heard good things, I hope…” said Jane.

“Of course,” said Preston. “I apologize for my harsh questions the last time we met. I only meant to protect the family. I do think highly of you, Miss Grant, and the most important thing is that my brother loves you. And I can see that he does.”

Richard’s head snapped to Preston so fast, he thought he’d crack a vertebra. He could see Richard was in love? Since when? Preston met his frowning gaze, puzzled. “Did you not tell us you were in love with Miss Grant, brother?” asked Preston with an innocent smile.

Right. He did say that. And, the worst thing was, the warmth in his chest, the lightness in his stomach, the sense that everything was brighter and better around Miss Grant…all suggested that he felt something more than he wanted to admit.

Jane looked at him, too, wide-eyed and concerned. He felt her gaze like a warm touch on his skin.

“Of course I am. You’re right, brother,” he said and met Jane’s gaze.

And stopped breathing. Damnation, the whole world could stop and disappear, and he wouldn’t need anything or anyone else but her, looking into his eyes.

“We’re overjoyed you make my grandson happy, dear,” said Grandmama. “God knows, he deserves to be treated well by a good woman.”

The conversation turned to the wedding and the organization of it. With the special license acquired and the church booked for nine days from now, the only matter remaining was to prepare for the festivities and organize the decorations. Mercifully, Calliope took it upon herself to discuss the menu for the feast and arrange decorations and invitations with Mrs. Girdwood, the housekeeper in Sumhall. As they talked about it, Richard couldn’t help but look at Jane. If they were successful, there would be no wedding. Here he was with his second fiancée, another engagement doomed…

And, yet again, he didn’t want it to fail.

Emma and Sebastian asked Jane about her family. Calliope said proudly that Jane taught poor children in Whitechapel and that she was very happy to have a new sister like her. They all made Jane feel welcome, he could see how her shoulders relaxed, how her breathing became calmer and slower, and how a genuine smile bloomed on her face.

As they were interrupted by someone who came to greet Grandmama, Richard offered his arm to Jane to make a tour around the room. He wanted her to feel at ease and secure in the presence of those he held most dear. However, he knew that not everyone in the ton would be so welcoming and kind. This was his domain, this social jungle with predators and prey, and he’d make sure she was safe from anyone who might wish her harm.

As they walked around the room, making their way through groups of conversing and laughing people, several acquaintances greeted him. He saw the Countess of Whitemouth, with her hair piled high and decorated with bright yellow feathers, the color making her look older than she was. She caught his gaze and slowly nodded to him in greeting, her eyes falling on Jane with a raised eyebrow. Lady Fairchild, standing next to her, looked at Jane like an angry cat.

And then he saw a former lover, Lady Jasmine Stanley. They had enjoyed a brief affair last summer, before Spencer disappeared. The beautiful woman locked eyes with him, a seductive question in her burning gaze. He nodded to her politely, coldly, and glanced at Jane, who was staring right at the woman with a frown.

Damnation. He didn’t want Jane to think he was interested in Lady Stanley. Quite unexpectedly, the thought of hurting her like Lady Charity had hurt him was like a bullet through his heart.

After a quick glance around the room, making sure no one would see, Richard let his hanging hand touch hers. A jolt of hot desire rushed through him. How could it, after such an innocent touch? He knew she felt it, too, as she suddenly looked up at him and met his gaze. And just like that, there was no one else in the room but the two of them.

Nothing else existed.

And she wasn’t drawing her hand away.

“No reproach about the touch?” he teased with a smile.

She had just opened her mouth to reply when there was a burst of excited voices from the middle of the room.

“Lady Isabella, please play a quadrille!” demanded Lady Brewster’s youngest daughter, whose gown was covered with stunning artificial roses. She stared with bright eyes at a handsome young man. “I have a great wish to dance!”

“Beatrice, darling,” said Lady Brewster, “I am not sure our guests are predisposed—”

“Nonsense, Mama.” Her gaze landed on Richard and Jane. “I know Lord Richard would never refuse a dance with his new betrothed, would you, Lord Richard?”

Richard nodded and looked at Jane. “Quite. What about it, Jane?”

She swallowed, nervous and blinking.

“Everything will be all right,” he promised. “They all stare at you, admiring how beautiful you look.”

“If you say so. I feel like they just keep asking themselves why I am dressed in a frock I shouldn’t be wearing and pretending I fit in.”

He chuckled softly. “Jane, you should see yourself the way I see you.”

Encouraged by Beatrice, five more couples stood in two lines, and the first chords of the quadrille were struck. Five years ago, he had danced with a lady he’d thought he’d been in love with, a lady who was perfect and beautiful in every way, moving with grace and poise.

And yet, strangely, as he came to Jane and took her hand in his, as they danced their steps, with a devastating clarity in his heart, he knew that he loved her. It had taken only six days for this extraordinary woman to capture his heart.

She, Jane Grant, with her missing steps and her blushing cheeks and her nervous, shaking hands.

She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. The kindest, bravest heart. A princess among thieves, commanding children, dogs, and men armed with knives.

Had she been a goddess, she’d be Artemis, the goddess of the hunt.

Lady Charity had been everything a lord would want in a wife. Beautiful. Well-bred. Polite and gentle. Very popular.

He had loved her, not knowing it wouldn’t end well. With Jane, he knew. There was no future for them.

She had told him she didn’t want to get married. She was using him only to get out of an obligation with her brother.

And once they learned the truth about Spencer, Jane would not be tied to him at all.

The ruse would end. And he’d be left, once again, with his heart shattered.