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Jane shivered and wondered if she’d overstepped her bounds.

She thought to subtly tell the marquis that Elsbeth still cared for him.

Perhaps she’d been wrong to do so. She searched frantically in her mind for something to say, for something to break the unnatural silence that fell between them.

Without thinking, she looked helplessly at the earl.

Royce felt his heart twist unnaturally in his chest. He frowned, blinked, then rallied. “Reverend Chitterdean was telling us only last evening of the marvelous medicines Lady Elsbeth makes. I understand the entire neighborhood is indebted to her.”

Jane turned toward him with relief and led both men toward the parlor. "Since we’ve been here, she has been like a child playing happily outdoors. She has added countless plants to her pharmacopeia and conducted experiments on cultivating others.”

David went before them to fling open the doors to the parlor. At that moment, Mr. Burry began to descend the stairs, followed by Sir Helmsdon. Sir Helmsdon was dressed for riding, as were the earl and marquis.

Millicent, spying the earl, strolled languidly but purposefully to his side, her arm threading his.

“Miss Grantley,” called Sir Helmsdon as he reached the bottom stair. "Lady Elsbeth wished me to convey to you that she is having some trouble with your nephews. It seems the youngest is upset that his elder brother is to ride and he is not, or something to that effect,” he drawled.

“You do not mean to have the children come with us, do you?” asked Millicent in scandalized accents.

“Yes, why not?”

“But Jane, that’s so—so?—”

The earl removed her arm from his, so startling Millicent that she forgot what she was going to say. "This is partially my fault for providing a horse for Bertram. I should have known something like this would fall out.”

Jane laughed. "No, why should you? You have no children to learn from.”

“No, I don’t,” the earl said harshly. "Excuse me, Miss Grantley,” he continued stiffly. "May I have your permission to go to Edward? I caused the problem. Perhaps I can remedy it.”

Jane was so mortified at the implications of what she said, she could have cut out her tongue. She could only nod dumbly, then indicate to David that he was to conduct the earl to the nursery.

Millicent glared at her and stalked back into the parlor.

It was another miserable twenty minutes before the party was completely assembled and ready to be off.

The earl solved the problem of Edward by taking him up before him on his horse.

To Edward, that was ever so much better than trying to manage his pony and keep up with everyone.

Bertram didn’t know how to react. He could no longer preen over Edward, but it wouldn’t do to indulge in a fit of sullens, either.

He compromised by being unnaturally silent.

Soon, however, all his attention was taken with managing his mount.

Two carriages were used to convey the rest of the party to the little Grecian temple.

Lady Serena and Mr. Burry, along with the Willoughbys, rode in the Littons’ barouche, while Millicent rode in a closed carriage with Lady Elsbeth and Jane.

Her beautiful face was set in a petulant pout emphasizing her full lower lip.

She stared gloomily out the window at the earl, but not once did the earl look her way, his attention consumed by Edward Litton.

Frustrated, Millicent turned to cast Jane a venomous look.

Jane shrugged her cousin’s poisonous glare aside.

Privately she was amused. If Millicent would relax and expend less energy in hating and scheming against anyone she saw as a rival, she’d no doubt soon find herself engaged to some worthy gentleman.

Unfortunately, the darkling looks she cast did not go unnoticed by others.

Any sweetness she displayed to the object of her intentions came across as patently false.

It was unfortunate. Millicent was a beautiful woman and a wealthy one as well.

Though not a fresh and dewy debutante, she was a desirable match.

But she was ruled as much by imagination and exaggeration as selfishness and greed.

Jane paused in her ruminations, a rueful smile curving one side of her lips.

Millicent was not alone in her faults. Society's gossip had as much validity, springing as it did from the collective imagination of the bon ton. Oh, there was always a dabble of truth to all the tales, as there was to Millicent’s exaggerations.

But in the telling, some point was embellished to make for a more exciting tale.

Retold, further enhancements were made, and further ones after that.

Ultimately, the tales held only the kernels of truth.

Jane looked past Millicent’s broad-brimmed bonnet out the window at the earl.

Where did truth end and fiction begin in the tales told of him in society's elegant drawing rooms? Royce had his arm securely around Edward while his head was turned to look back at Bertram. Jane couldn’t hear the words, but she saw that he laughed and nodded agreeably to the boy.

Then he shifted back around in the saddle, settling Edward more securely against him.

Suddenly Jane felt an unreasoning jealously toward her young nephew.

In her mind, she felt the earl’s hand about her waist, pulling her securely against him.

A prickly tingle began below her breasts where his hand would rest. It spread throughout her body.

A warm rush of blood surged through her veins.

She gasped and turned her head away before Elsbeth or Millicent could see and comment.

She closed her eyes, willing her pulse and breathing to slow, waiting for the prickly tingling to subside.

What was wrong with her? Never had she allowed her mind such license! Never had she even imagined feelings like those that consumed her. Desire curled and coiled within her.

Wanton!

The word exploded in her head. She felt weak, boneless. This would never do! They were pulling up before the Folly. Desperately she pulled at remnants of her icy mantle. The Ice Witch would not be so consumed!

She breathed deeply, composing her face.

By the time the carriage door opened and the steps were let down, she’d achieved a modicum of control.

She hung onto it tightly, as a shipwrecked sailor hung on to flotsam and jetsam, praying for rescue.

He was there, by the door, waiting to help them alight.

Millicent, anxious to secure the earl for herself, pushed past Lady Elsbeth to take the earl’s hand.

She remained by his side while he assisted Lady Elsbeth and finally Jane.

Jane’s fingers trembled slightly when her hand touched his.

He looked at her quizzically, but she refused to meet his dark gaze.

When she was safely on the ground, she quickly pulled her hand from his and walked hurriedly toward the other carriage, ostensibly to greet the others.

Blankets were spread out in the shade of a tall, spreading elm.

Hampers of food revealed delicacies to tempt everyone’s appetite, along with bottles of wine and jugs of lemonade.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves. Sounds of laughter and the ebb and flow of voices floated across the hillside and down into the valley.

The boys ran after each other playing a game of tag.

Giggling, Edward careened around Lady Serena, using her shoulder to pivot.

Lady Serena screamed in surprise and jumped, spilling her glass of wine across the blanket, barely avoiding staining her pale yellow skirts.

“How dare you, you little?—”

“Serena!” cut in Lady Elsbeth. "They are only playing a game. Boys, don’t play around here. You’re liable to hurt yourselves or someone else, not to mention the hazard of falling into a platter of food!”

The boys laughed. "Yes, by Jove, wouldn’t that be a sight! I can see you now, Edward, face first in one of Cook’s cream puffs,” said Bertram. The picture he imagined sent him laughing harder and reeling backward, clenching his sides.

“Oh, really? Well, I can see you in one of the jellies!” Edward countered. "All sticky and gooey, with ants crawling all over you!”

“I can see caterpillars falling on you from the trees,” Bertram yelled, his chin thrusting forward pugnaciously.

“Yipes!” squealed Lady Serena, looking upward. Her skin crawled, and she flicked at imaginary crawling insects.

“Children!” cried out Lady Elsbeth, a faint blush staining her cheeks.

“And getting stuck in all that cream, wriggling about,” Bertram finished with a flourish.

“That’s nothing,” began Edward, puffing out his small chest as he prepared to launch into an even more gruesome image.

“That’s enough,” corrected the earl, laughter robbing his words of force. "Remember the ladies’ sensibilities.”

Millicent, seated next to the earl, preened at what she considered his obvious attention to her.

“Why don’t you show me how that telescope of yours works,” he continued, surging to his feet in one fluid motion.

“What—” protested Millicent. She clamped her lips shut, a determined look steeling over her features. She got to her feet and followed after the earl.

“Poor Millicent,” said Jane to Lady Elsbeth, “I don’t think she knows how to handle children as rivals.”

With a laugh, the Marquis of Conisbrough leaned back on his elbow next to Lady Elsbeth. "That’s not a contest she has a chance of winning, either."

“Oh?” encouraged Jane.

The marquis sat up. He looked pointedly at Jane. "I don’t tell tales on another. If you want that story, you’ll have to ask him.”

Jane flushed and bristled at the implied criticism. Lady Elsbeth took pity on her niece and patted her hand in understanding. Jane released a long sigh and relaxed. No doubt the primary subject of numerous tales, the marquis had learned the consequences of gossip. When was she going to learn?