An Escapade and an Engagement

Until the viscount had talked about getting Harry brought up on a charge it had never occurred to her that others might have to pay any penalty for her misdemeanours. She had cheerfully flouted the rules, safe in the knowledge that any punishment meted out to her would be relatively mild. Lady Penrose might have forbidden her to attend any balls for a few nights, or curtailed her shopping expeditions. Which would have been no punishment at all.

At the very worst she had thought she might get sent home to Kent. Which would have felt like a victory, of sorts.

It had taken the grim-faced viscount to make her see that there would inevitably be repercussions for others tangled up in her affairs, too. To wake her up to the fact that she would never have forgiven herself if Josie had lost her job, or Harry had been cashiered out of his regiment, on her account. Thankfully he had listened to her pleas for leniency for Harry and Josie, and had given his word not to speak of what he knew about her activities tonight.

She reached up and patted Josie on the hand as her faithful maid began to brush out her hair, separating it into strands so that she could put it in the plaits she always wore to bed. How could she not have considered that others might have to pay for her misdemeanours? How could she have been so selfish?

She raised her head and regarded her reflection in the mirror with distaste.

People were always telling her how very much she resembled her father. They were beginning to whisper that she was as cold and heartless as him, too, because of the wooden expression she had taken so many years to perfect.

But you couldn’t tell what a person was really like from just looking at their face. Only think of how wrong she’d been about Lord Ledbury. Earlier tonight, when she’d noticed him at Lucy Beresford’s come-out ball, she’d thought him one of the most disagreeable men she’d ever seen. He had not smiled once, though people had been falling over themselves to try and amuse him.

She’d really disliked the way he’d behaved, as though he was doing Lucy’s brother an immense favour by making his first public appearance as Lord Ledbury in his home. She’d thought Lucy a complete ninny for going into raptures about him for being some kind of war hero. He looked just the sort of man to enjoy hacking people to bits, and there was nothing heroic about such behaviour.

But he wasn’t cruel at all. He could have ruined her reputation, and Harry’s career, and left Josie destitute if he was the kind of man who revelled in inflicting pain on others. But he had chosen not to.

She looked at her cool expression again and felt a little comforted. She might look like her father, but she wasn’t like him—not inside, where it mattered. Was she?

She gave an involuntary shiver.

‘Not long now, miss. Then we’ll get you all snug and warm in your bed,’ said Josie, misinterpreting the reaction.

Lady Jayne did not bother to correct her mistake. She had no intention of adding to her maid’s worries by telling her what had happened. Or confiding in anybody that Lord Ledbury’s very forbearance, when she knew she deserved his contempt, had made her feel as though she had behaved in as selfish a fashion as her father had ever done.

She couldn’t bear to look at herself any longer. Had she really encouraged Harry to fall so hopelessly in love with her that he’d acted recklessly enough to jeopardise his whole career? In just such a way had her womanising father destroyed the women who’d been foolish enough to fall for his handsome face and surface charm.

Not that Lord Ledbury would let that happen. Not now. He was bound to prevent her from seeing Harry again. He had made it clear he disapproved of a woman of her rank having a relationship with a man who had no fortune of his own. Or at the very least a title.

At last Josie had finished her hair, and she could get into bed and pull the coverlets up comfortingly to her chin as she wriggled down into the pillows.

Though she couldn’t get comfortable. How likely was it that Lord Ledbury would be able to deter Harry from contacting her again? Not even her grandfather had managed that.

She chewed on her thumbnail. She did like Harry. Quite a lot. And she had been quite cut up when her grandfather had sent her to London to put an end to the association that had started when his regiment was stationed in Kent for training. And she had been pleased to see him again.

Until he had told her that the separation had almost broken his heart.

Oh, how she hoped Lord Ledbury could persuade him to abandon his pursuit of her! Because if he couldn’t she was going to have to tell him herself that she had never really loved him. She had not seen it before tonight. But now that she was looking at her behaviour through Lord Ledbury’s censorious eyes she had to face the fact that a very large part of Harry’s attraction had derived from the satisfaction gained in knowing that to see him was to defy her grandfather.

Oh, heavens. Lord Ledbury would be quite entitled to write her off as a shallow, thoughtless, selfish creature.

She shut her eyes and turned onto her side as Josie slid from the room and shut the door softly behind her. Her stomach flipped over. She did not want to be the kind of girl who could casually break a man’s heart in a spirit of defiance. Though she had never dreamed Harry’s feelings were so deeply engaged. She tried to excuse herself. She had not done it deliberately! She had thought … She frowned, looking back on her behaviour with critical eyes. She had not thought at all, she realized on a spurt of shame that seared through her so sharply she had to draw up her legs to counteract it. Harry had just turned up when she was so frustrated with her life in Town that she’d been silently screaming at the weight of the restrictions imposed on her.

Though they were not all entirely the fault of her chaperone. She herself had made a stupid vow not to dance with anyone this Season, lest they take it as a sign she might welcome their suit.

Though, she comforted herself, even before Lord Ledbury had caught them she had begun to see that, in all conscience, she could not continue to encourage Harry. It had only been a moment before he’d come upon them. The moment when Harry had urged her to elope and she’d known she could never do anything of the sort. Even before he had kissed her, and it had become so very unpleasant, she had known she would have to break it off.

That was the moment when she’d known she was not in love with Harry. Not in that deep, all-consuming way which might induce a woman to give up everything—as her aunt Aurora, so her mother had told her, had done when she had eloped with an impecunious local boy.

‘Oh, Harry.’ She sighed. She hoped he would get over her quickly. He should, for she was not worth the risks he had taken. Anyway, he was certainly going to have more important things to think about than her in the near future. The newspapers were full of Bonaparte’s escape from Elba. Every available regiment was being posted overseas in an attempt to halt his triumphal progress through France. And what with all the excitement of travelling to foreign climes and engaging in battles, he would soon, she hoped, be able to put her out of his mind altogether.

Though she would feel guilty for toying with a man’s feelings for a considerable time to come.

Shutting her eyes, she uttered a swift prayer for him to meet a nice girl of his own class, who would love him back the way he deserved to be loved.

Chapter Three

‘Lord Ledbury is coming to take you for a drive today? Are you quite sure?’

Lady Penrose regarded her over the top of her lorgnettes, which she was using to peruse the pile of correspondence that had arrived that morning.

‘Yes,’ said Lady Jayne, crossing her fingers behind her back. ‘Did I not mention it last night?’

Lady Penrose looked pensive. ‘I was aware he was at the Beresfords’ last night, of course. But not that you had been formally introduced. Nor that an invitation had been given. Or accepted. In fact you should not have accepted at all.’ She laid her glasses down with evident irritation. ‘You know it was quite wrong of you to do such a thing. The young man ought to have applied to me for the permission which I alone am in a position to give.’

Though Lady Jayne hung her head, her spirits leaped at the possibility that Lord Ledbury was not going to have it all his own way after all. In any confrontation between the hard-faced viscount and her stern duenna regarding a breach of form she would lay odds on Lady Penrose emerging victorious. Lady Penrose was such a stickler for etiquette. It was why her grandfather had appointed this distant relative to oversee her Season.

‘She won’t stand any nonsense from you,’ he had warned her. ‘And she is astute enough to spot a fortune-hunter a mile off. Yes, Lady Penrose will get you safely married before the Season’s out …’

Lady Jayne felt the sting of his rejection afresh. He had been so keen to get her off his hands. His attitude had made her even more determined to take up with Harry when he had shown up. At least Harry liked her.

‘Although,’ mused Lady Penrose, ‘since he is exactly the sort of man your grandfather would wish to encourage, I am inclined to permit the outing to go ahead.’

When Lady Jayne’s eyes widened in shock, her duenna explained, ‘I dare say he slid into bad habits during his years on active service. I have seen this kind of thing before with younger sons who never expected to inherit. It will take him a while to adjust to polite society, no doubt. We will have to make allowances for him.’

‘Will we?’

‘Of course,’ said Lady Penrose, looking at her as though she was an imbecile. ‘He is now a most eligible parti. It would be foolish beyond measure to make a to-do simply because he seems to have forgotten the way things ought to be done. I shall rearrange your engagements for today accordingly.’

Lady Jayne practically gaped at Lady Penrose. Up till now she had been scornful of just about all the young men who had attempted to fix their interest with her. Not that she’d had any objection to Lady Penrose frostily sending those men about their business. For she had no intention of marrying anyone—not this Season! If her grandfather thought he could marry her off just like that then he had another think coming.

She stayed angry for the rest of the day. By the time Lord Ledbury arrived to take her for the drive he had coerced her into taking with him she was almost ready to tell him to do his worst. Except for the fact that he might know Harry’s commanding officer. It would only take one word in the right quarters to ensure he paid dearly for last night’s foolishness. Which reflection only made her crosser than ever. It was so unfair that he could get away with behaving as badly as he wished and even a high stickler like Lady Penrose would forgive him because of his rank.

And then he had the gall to turn up at her front door in a barouche. If she had to be seen out and about with him, could it not at least have been in something a bit more dashing—like a phaeton? Did he not know that this was the very first time Lady Penrose had permitted her to go out driving with a man in the park?

No, she fumed, climbing in, he did not know. Or care. For he was not really her suitor.

At least there was some consolation in that. She twitched her furs up to her chin and glared at the groom’s back as Lord Ledbury sat down next to her. She felt him giving her a hard look, but he said nothing. And continued to say nothing all the way to the park.

As they bowled along the streets she conceded that she supposed she could see why he had chosen such a stuffy, staid form of transport. With a groom to drive there was nothing to distract him from the lecture he looked as though he was itching to give her. He’d probably only held back last night because of that single tear remorse had wrung from her. Yes—she would warrant he’d feared she would cry in earnest if he shouted at her the way he’d shouted at Harry. That pensive expression as he’d wiped that teardrop from her chin had probably been due to him imagining how dreadful it would be to have to escort a weeping female home through the darkened streets.

It also accounted for the way he was darting her assessing glances now, as though she was an unexploded bomb that might go off in any direction should he make an unwise move.

Not that he would have succeeded in making her cry if he had shouted at her. She had learned almost from the cradle the knack of keeping her emotions well controlled. It had started with her determination never to let her father reduce her to tears. She’d refused to give him the satisfaction!

By the time they drove through the gates of the park she had managed to compose her features into the carefully blank mask behind which she always sheltered when on the receiving end of a dressing-down.

Though there was nothing Lord Ledbury could say to her that she had not heard a thousand times before—from someone whose opinion actually mattered to her.