His Impassioned Proposal (The Bridgethorpe Brides) (7 page)

“You will ruin that piece if you don’t stop bleeding on it,” Hannah whispered with a teasing gleam in her eye.

Jane tipped the fabric so her friend could see her work. “I fear my needle skills are what have ruined it. I wish I had my paints.”

Lady Carrington looked up from the straw bonnet to which she was applying lace. “What’s that, girls? Do speak up so we all may have our part in the conversation.”

Sitting up straighter, Jane felt as though she were a child whose governess was taking her to task. “I only said I wished I had brought my paints. It appears to be another warm afternoon and the view of the lake is quite striking.”

“It is a beautiful prospect, isn’t it? But you mustn’t spend so much time out of doors. You have finally succeeded in allowing those horrid sun spots on your nose to fade.”

Jane’s eyes widened as she looked at Hannah, and they both fought to not laugh. “Yes, ma’am. I am grateful your daughters have shared their thread with me so I might remain indoors on such a sunny day.” Although she tried to avoid doing so, she glanced at her mother only to see her glaring back, one eyebrow lowered. Jane picked at the knotted tangle in her thread and pretended to enjoy herself.

Lady Florentia, the middle of the three daughters, who along with her older sister was out in the marriage mart, jumped up suddenly and ran to the large window overlooking the front grounds. “I hear a carriage. It’s two curricles. Mama, look, someone is coming.”

“Sit down, girl. No lady should appear eager for a gentleman’s company. Barrington will inform us who is calling.”

Lady Florentia marched dutifully back across the room and resumed her seat. “Perhaps they will take us out for a drive.”

“I did not schedule an outing this afternoon,” Lady Carrington responded with a huff.

Jane tried not to yawn at the thought of driving with any of the young men attending the house party. Lady Carrington didn’t have the cachet to draw the more exciting guests Jane would enjoy visiting. As she stabbed her needle into the cloth again, she wondered what that meant about her own standing in Society. Jane’s father was a mere baronet, so she had no aspirations of landing a husband with a title. It seemed, however, that men with titles made for more interesting company. Or was it just the men at this party in particular who were so dull?

Perhaps it was the fact that Stephen was home but not in attendance, even though she was trying hard to keep him from her thoughts. In fairness, any of the Lumley men would enliven things, but Knightwick and David had made their excuses not to attend the week-long party. When footsteps sounded outside the room, Jane looked at the parlor door just as the butler opened it.

“Mr. David Lumley and Mr. Stephen Lumley,” Barrington pronounced. The two young men entered and bowed to the room. Butterflies stirred in Jane’s middle when she saw them. Closing her eyes, she cursed her body for defying her desire to treat him like any other gentleman.

“Lady Carrington, I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion, given that I declined your invitation to stay,” David began. “But my cousin and I were driving past in our newly-acquired curricles and thought perhaps the young ladies would enjoy a brief jaunt.”

Driving by
. Jane refrained from rolling her eyes. Carrington Abbey was on the way to neither Bridgethorpe nor Larkspur. She was quite surprised to see Stephen there, having thought he’d either be overseeing the repairs on his home or in London.

Lady Florentia and her sisters begged their mother to allow them to take a drive. Apparently making such allowances would add to the pleasure of her guests, and thus improve the reputation of her party, as Lady Carrington agreed.

David requested the service of two grooms to ride behind the curricle seats and act as chaperones, since the seats were only large enough for two. After pelisses and bonnets were donned, the party descended the stairs and the gentlemen set off with Hannah and one of the other guests as the first riders.

Jane and the remaining young ladies stretched their legs in the park beside the house while they waited. The movement helped calm her nerves. She couldn’t name a reason why she was so nervous about seeing Stephen, for she knew which curricle she’d be expected to ride in. One minute she wished to get the meeting over with, and the next she wanted to make her excuses and run inside. She was behaving like a girl at her first ball, for pity’s sake. Her hands shook, so she balled them into fists as she walked, unable to focus on what the other young ladies were speaking of.

It seemed like hours passed before she finally sat beside him. In spite of the coolness of the fall afternoon, she shivered, yet her leg burned where it pressed against his thigh. She attempted to scoot further away. When she glanced at him, his smile was warm, his eyes glowing with the kind of excitement she remembered from their younger days.

“Your visit was quite unexpected,” she said.

“I wish I could claim to have devised it to spend time with you while observing my mourning period, but it was David’s doing. I ran into him in Town after I met with my solicitor.” He explained the purchase of the vehicles and horses.

“I don’t mean this harshly, but I’m surprised at your acquisition of a carriage. Was your father’s damaged in the fire?”

“No, the carriage house was safe, as were the horses. I bought this with an eye toward the future.”

The only purpose Jane could imagine for such a sporty conveyance was the desire to appear fashionable, which was so far removed from what she thought she knew as Stephen’s character. “I don’t understand.”

“With the right team of horses, I could do quite well racing the curricle.”

“And that is how you see your future? Racing curricles?”

He turned his gaze on her, squinting into the sunlight. “The Lumleys have made a name for themselves in the Jockey Club. As has your father. There’s no shame in racing on wheels instead of on horseback.”

She looked away, seeing the Abbey off in the distance. “It’s not shameful, but I thought you intended to farm like your father.”

He shrugged. “My father sold most of his land. I must find something to do with my days.”

“But race winnings and betting on your team surely won’t earn you the living you mentioned you desired.”

“It doesn’t have to,” he said casually and didn’t elaborate.

Jane reminded herself it wasn’t her place to ascertain how large a living Stephen received. One drunken proposal didn’t signify he intended to offer for her properly. Her shoulders drooped slightly. One minute she wanted to go back before their discussion in Bridgethorpe’s library to start afresh, the next she was determined to forget him.

Life had seemed so much easier when she didn’t have to consider the other young men, none of whom stirred any excitement inside her. They weren’t her Stephen.

But then, neither was Stephen.

He was still one of her oldest friends and one with much upheaval in his life. If racing a curricle gave him joy, he deserved as much. He also deserved to be surrounded by good friends. She decided to act like one, even if it frustrated and confused her to do so. “Did you find Larkspur Cottage badly damaged?”

“Just the one wing. Simmons has probably finished with the initial repairs by now.”

“You aren’t rebuilding the wing?”

His expressive brown eye, the undamaged one, locked onto hers. “I thought that might be an area in which my wife would wish to voice an opinion.”

Oh. When she’d last spoken with him, he’d sounded as if a wife was the last item on his lengthy list of chores to finish, one he really didn’t care whether he scratched off. She fought the whisper of hope that swelled in her that he did plan to marry. “Yes. Many young ladies enjoy bestowing a bit of their own tastes on their new homes.”

“And you, Jane? Do you look forward to decorating a house?”

“I’ve honestly not given it much thought.” When she and Hannah visited, they talked of many things, but never about the houses they hoped to live in, and rarely about the men they wished to marry, until recently. For Jane, the latter had been understood, and the former didn’t matter. She would have followed Stephen anywhere he wished to live. “I think, perhaps, since I had no notion of when you might return, I put it from my mind.”

Biting her lip, she realized how that might sound. “I apologize, Stephen. That sounds petulant of me. I didn’t spend my days pining over your absence.” She laughed suddenly. “At least, not after the first half year or so. All of us, your parents and cousins, my parents, we all were quite proud of you for buying your colors.”

Stephen shifted on the padded seat and rubbed the butt of his hand over his left thigh. “I hadn’t considered that for you, my being away was no different whether you were betrothed to me, or not. By not asking for your hand, I sought to protect you from the burden of worrying about me.”

“I would have worried nearly as much for Knightwick or David, had they gone.” She meant it, but they were like brothers or cousins to her. In spite of her efforts to the contrary, she couldn’t call her affections for Stephen brotherly.

He was such a kind, gentle person. She’d never seen him fight with anyone other than the childhood scuffles with his cousins, which had usually ended with grins in spite of the bruises and bumps. Of course, she’d never seen him drink before, either. Liquor changed a man, wasn’t that what people said? Could she ask him to pledge not to drink?
 

Jane hated to think of Stephen as cut from the same cloth as her uncle. She wished there was a way to determine if a man was likely to be cruel to his wife or family. Someone would have seen something in his manner before now.

They had circled around and were nearing Carrington Abbey again when Stephen said, “I am sorry for any grief I have caused you in the past, Jane.”

She rested her hand on his as it held the reins. “Any grief was far outweighed by the joy your friendship has given me.”

When they reached the other girls, he helped her down from the curricle and assisted the last of the young ladies onto the seat, bowed briefly to Jane and drove off after David and his rider.

Jane joined the other girls and motioned to Hannah. “Let’s go inside,” she mouthed before walking that direction. When they had made their way to a small sitting room, Jane pursed her lips and let out a slow breath. “I am glad that is over with. Now that I know he is not suffering, I can put my thoughts toward finding a husband.”

“Is it as easy as that? You’ve decided not to marry Stephen so you forget you ever had feelings for him?”

An unexpected wave of tears filled Jane’s eyes as anger twisted her belly. “I will never forget him. Perhaps when you are faced with choosing among your suitors you will see how difficult the matter truly is.”

Jane stopped, shaking her head. “No, I could never wish that upon you. I hope you find love that is so overwhelming you have no choice but to follow it. If you do, let nothing come between you and your beloved.”

Hannah untied her bonnet and removed her gloves and pelisse, setting them in a chair. “You have me so confused, Jane. Are you saying your love for Stephen was not the overwhelming kind? Or that something has come between you?”

Jane had never told anyone but her mother about that horrid night she’d spent under her uncle’s roof. Family secrets such as that weren’t shared, even among the closest of friends. And to tell Hannah her fears would be as much as to accuse Stephen of being capable of such an act. She didn’t want to believe him capable.

Her own weakness was the cause of her fears. Her inability to trust Stephen to keep her safe was holding her back. If she came across any suitor in such a drunken state as he’d been in, she would feel the same fear. But she was certain Stephen’s family would only see the accusation and not her doubts. She slipped off her pelisse and pulled at the wrinkles caused by wear while she composed her thoughts. “No, neither of those is true. I have come to realize how lucky I am that my father has offered to pay for another Season, and to give the search for a husband any less than my entire efforts would be inconsiderate. I will always have fond memories of Stephen, but it was silly of me to believe myself in love. I fear perhaps I made him into a hero in my mind, and no man deserves to be measured against another who could never exist. Now I must look beyond my childhood attachment and find a man I can grow to love as an adult.”

Her stomach knotted as she spoke. She felt warm, like the moment before she tossed up a meal into the bedpan when she was ill. She wanted to believe what she said, in spite of the voice inside her begging her to take it all back.

Hannah frowned. “This is all so sudden. We were just speaking of finding a friend of Stephen’s to become my husband so we might be sisters.”

“We shall look for two gentlemen who are brothers, or as close as we, then, when we go to London.” She needed a distraction, another subject to discuss with Hannah. “I have it. We shall practice tonight on the Barnes brothers. They will surely ask us to dance, and we can contrive it so we stand up with them in the same set. Then we might flirt with them and see how much more fun it might be if we enjoy their company together.”

“Well, I suppose we might try. But I really have no wish to marry either of them.”

“Of course you don’t. But that is not the point. This will prepare us for when we go to London. Spring is not so very far away. We must be ready. We’ll have a battle plan equal to any soldier’s.” A vision of Stephen in his stiff, bright red regimental coat came to her and she bit her lip. She must stop thinking of him at every turn.

Chapter Eight

The weather turned cold the week following Lady Carrington’s party, and Jane saw little of Hannah or anyone else. Rain settled in, making the roads unsuitable for riding, and even less so for walking. And so Jane stayed home and read, or painted, or wrote letters. She even found herself sitting at the pianoforte, displaying her poor skills for the servants.

She couldn’t recall feeling quite so restless, so trapped by the weather. This winter was starting no differently from any other. The only slight change was Stephen being safely home from battle. Since she was determined not to marry him, his being in the same shire should have no bearing on her mood.