Page 13 of The Truth about the Marquess (Whispers of the Ton #3)
Chapter Twelve
“ I was just saying that – oh, do excuse me for a moment.”
Jane smiled warmly at the two ladies who were sitting with her in the drawing room as a tap came at the door. Lady Martins and her daughter, Lady Rebecca, smiled and nodded as Jane called for the butler to enter.
“Lady Keswick and her daughter, Miss Leverton.”
Jane, a little surprised, managed to keep her poise as the two ladies entered the room. She had not been introduced to either of them before, she was sure, and certainly had not been expecting a visit! Was this not one of the young ladies that Lord Edenbridge had told her he was considering? And if it was, did that have anything to do with their unexpected arrival?
“Lady Keswick, Miss Leverton.” Curtseying, she smiled warmly, hiding her confusion. “How very good to meet you.”
The older lady smiled, although it was a little tight, Jane considered.
“I am aware that we have not been introduced, but I do hope that you will not consider it improper.”
Jane smiled.
“No, not in the least. Please, do come and join us.”
“I thank you.” Lady Keswick nodded to the other ladies, seemingly already acquainted with them, and then went to sit down with her daughter next to her. “I was sorry to hear of your husband’s passing, Lady Harsham. I did not know him personally, but I am sure that it must have brought with it a great deal of suffering.”
Jane, who considered that her marriage to Lord Harsham had been nothing but suffering, and his death, as sorrowful as it was to say, a relief from that, only smiled gently and nodded.
“You are very kind, Lady Keswick. Might I pour you some tea? It has only just been brought in.”
The lady nodded though, Jane considered, Miss Leverton had not said a single word as yet. Instead, she sat quietly, her gaze resting on the floor rather than looking at Jane, her hands in her lap. Silently wondering what it was that had brought Lady Keswick and Miss Leverton to her, Jane set down the teacups and then, finally, sat down in her chair again.
Silence reigned. Jane pressed her lips together tightly, all the more confused about why Lady Keswick and Miss Leverton had come to call, and wondering why, now, there was no conversation whatsoever. Was it that Lady Keswick did not want to say anything in the company of others? Or was the silence from the simple truth that none of them were well acquainted with the other?
“Are you enjoying the Season, Miss Leverton?”
Thankfully, one of the other guests spoke, and Jane picked up her teacup to hide her sigh of relief.
Miss Leverton looked at her mother before speaking, however, almost as though she needed Lady Keswick’s approval before she said a single word. Her mother gave an almost imperceptible nod and Miss Leverton then nodded.
“Yes, I am.”
It was a very brief answer indeed, and Jane’s eyebrows rose high in surprise. Instead of speaking a little more at length to continue with the conversation, Miss Leverton had said very little, choosing, it seemed, to bring the conversation to a close before it had even begun!
Mayhap she is shy, Jane considered, wanting to think the best of the lady. Her mother might well be somewhat intimidating and therefore, she feels afraid of doing anything which might bring about her disapproval.
“Tell me, Miss Leverton, do you enjoy dancing?” Letting a light lilt lift her voice, Jane kept her expression warm in the hope of encouraging the young lady. “Have you danced many dances?”
Before Miss Leverton could speak, however, Lady Keswick set her cup down, cleared her throat, and then pinned Jane with a sharp gaze – sharper than Jane had expected.
“I shall get directly to the point.” She shot a hard look towards Lady Martins and her daughter. “I know that you will not speak of this to anyone, Lady Martins, for if there is any sort of gossip about my daughter and what I am about to say now, then I will know who to blame.”
Jane blinked in surprise, seeing now just how forthright and intimidating Lady Keswick could be. Lady Martins seemed to shrink back in her chair, her words mumbled as she promised not to say anything to anyone about what was to be spoken.
“Good.” Lady Keswick returned her gaze to Jane and Jane shuddered lightly. “You appear to be well acquainted with Lord Edenbridge. He has come to speak with my daughter on a few occasions and has danced with her twice, though I was not particularly pleased with her response.” Sniffing, she sent a hard look towards Miss Leverton, who did not respond. “It was not as encouraging as it might have been.”
Still a little taken aback by how quickly the subject had changed – and to the subject it had changed to , Jane spread out her hands.
“What is it that I can do in this, Lady Martins? It seems to me as though this is a matter between your daughter and Lord Edenbridge.”
“Except that, as I have said, you are well acquainted with Lord Edenbridge, I think. I have seen you walking with him, laughing with him, and dancing with him. Tell me, are you interested in a connection with him? Or is there a connection already there?”
Heat poured into Jane’s chest, racing upwards into her cheeks, even her hands growing hot and clammy as she understood the lady’s meaning.
“That is a somewhat inappropriate question, Lady Keswick.”
The lady only shrugged.
“I care not. What I do care about is my daughter. I should like to know whether or not there is a closeness between yourself and Lord Edenbridge that might otherwise prevent him from pulling himself wholeheartedly towards my daughter, should he desire to do so.”
Jane, wishing that there were no other guests present, lifted her chin.
“I think it is disappointing to know that a widow, such as myself, cannot even walk with a gentleman and dance with him without there coming some suggestion of impropriety. In answer to your question, no, I am only friends with Lord Edenbridge, and am glad to be so.”
Lady Keswick said nothing for a few moments, searching Jane’s face as though she thought her to be telling untruths. Jane remained exactly where she was, her hands now clasped in her lap as she waited for Lady Keswick’s response. She had to pray that Lady Martins and her daughter would do exactly what they had promised, and not breathe a word of this conversation to anyone, for what rumors would be spread through London otherwise! That was not at all what she wanted – and it was the very last thing that Lord Edenbridge needed!
“If that is so, then I am glad to hear it. Though I must ask, Lady Harsham, what is the state of his fortune? I have heard that his father was practically impoverished before he died and that the new Lord Edenbridge was left with barely two coins to rub together!”
“I cannot speak to that,” Jane answered, calmly, “for I do not have such a long acquaintance with Lord Edenbridge to say what it is that might or might not have been, as regarded his father. However, I do know that he is certainly not impoverished! He has spoken of it to me, about the difficulties that he faced and the trials which have come with it for, even though his fortune has greatly improved since he took on the title, the ton appears to refuse to believe it. That is a great shame, I must say, for he is a gentleman of excellent character and standing.”
A light came into Lady Keswick’s eyes and, for some inexplicable reason, Jane found her spirits sinking very low indeed. Surely it could not be because she was defending Lord Edenbridge to Lady Keswick, she considered, for she was glad to do so. She did not want the ton to think him poor and lacking when he was not, and she was quite certain that he deserved a good deal more than he was given by way of respect and consideration – so why, now, did she find herself feeling dispirited by the conversation?
“That is good to know. I would, of course, require proof of such a thing if his attentions towards my daughter increase.” She smiled and settled back in her chair a little, as though all that Jane had said had satisfied her completely. “Did you know that he has asked to take tea with her? Does that not speak well of things? I know that she is very quiet and somewhat shy, but that does not seem to trouble Lord Edenbridge!”
“No, I am sure it would not,” Jane murmured, noticing the flush that came into Miss Leverton’s cheeks. She felt a little sorrowful for the young lady, for her mother was speaking of her as though she was not even present, and that could not bring her any sort of happiness. “I am sure that – oh.”
Hearing a tap at the door again and silently hoping that this was another guest so that she might alter the conversation entirely, Jane called.
The door opened and with seeming reluctance, the butler came in rather slowly. About to berate him, Jane’s eyes widened in astonishment as she took in what he held in his hand – a silver tray with a good many letters spread out neatly upon it.
The London Chronicle!
Her anxiety began to swirl and quickly, Jane rose to her feet and came towards him quickly, gathering up the letters in her hands.
“Forgive me, my Lady, but you did ask for these to be brought to you as soon as possible,” the butler murmured, so that only she could hear. “I was not certain whether I should do so given that you have company but–”
“It is quite all right.” With a nod, Jane dismissed him and then turned back to her guests, all of whom were now staring at the great many letters that she had in her hands. “You must forgive the interruption, I beg of you,” she said, a sudden fright running through her as she saw the questions burning in every expression. “I expect to receive a good deal of correspondence this week and the butler knows how eager I am to receive the letters.”
“That is certainly a good deal of correspondence, I must say.” Lady Keswick tilted her head and looked steadily at the letters, as if she were trying to count them to ascertain just how many Jane held. “Goodness, I am surprised that you have received so many in one afternoon! You must be very popular indeed.”
Jane swallowed and then set the stacked letters on a small table at the side of the room which gave her just a few minutes to compose herself. Pasting a light smile on her face, she let out a bright laugh as she turned back to her guests, spreading out her hands.
“I do not think that it is because I am popular, Lady Keswick, but more than I have a good many acquaintances who wish to hear all about the delights of London. I write as much as I can, and as often as I can but sometimes, I do feel as though even that is not enough!”
“Yes, I can imagine.” Lady Martins rose to her feet, her daughter beside her. “To those who have never been to London, your letters must be quite thrilling!”
“That is kind of you to say,” Jane answered, desperately hoping that Lady Keswick would accept this explanation without further questions. “I suppose that is true, though I do not ever think of myself and my letters in such terms!”
Lady Keswick sniffed.
“I suppose that is because you have not been in society for all that long, Lady Harsham. There cannot be too much to say as yet, can there?”
Jane kept her smile fixed.
“There is enough to make them all very excited indeed,” she said, a little upset that the lie came so easily to her though, at the same time, she did not want to emphasize it further. “My sister’s letter will be here too, I am sure. She is a little anxious for me, though I do keep reminding her that she has no need to be.”
This seemed to make Lady Keswick soften just a little, for her lips curved and she nodded.
“That is understandable. She must have been very worried about you and your future when your husband passed away. Now, however, you have a chance to find yourself another match, if you so wish.” She tilted her head, studying Jane with a sharpened eye. “Is that why you are in London?”
Utterly astonished at Lady Keswick’s question, Jane stared at her, wide-eyed, for a few minutes, silence flooding the room. Miss Leverton dropped her head, her chin practically on her chest, her eyes closed as though embarrassed, but Lady Martins and her daughter both quietly took their seats again. Jane did not know whether it was because they truly wished to hear what she would say, or because they did not know what to do, but either way, she was not about to satisfy Lady Keswick’s question with an answer.
“Given that we are not well acquainted, Lady Keswick, I am afraid that I have no intention of sharing any of my personal thoughts and considerations as regards the Season and my future.” Her voice rang with a firmness that seemed to surprise Lady Keswick, given the way that her eyebrows leaped up, but Jane was not yet finished with her response. “I might also say, Lady Keswick, that I find your manner a little rude,” Jane continued, choosing to be quite frank in how she spoke. “As you said yourself, we are not acquainted, though I have been glad to welcome you into my home. Thereafter, you have not only questioned me about my connection to Lord Edenbridge, suggesting that there might be more to our friendship than there appears, and thereafter, asking me whether I am seeking a match this Season or not! I do not take pleasure in such questions and must hope that, should our connection continue, there will be less of what I have experienced this afternoon.”
Lady Keswick blinked and then looked at her daughter sharply. Jane saw Miss Leverton’s lips moving, though she could not make out what was said. Thereafter, Lady Keswick forced a smile and then returned her gaze to Jane, though there was nothing but shadows in her expression now.
“I must ask for your forgiveness. You understand, I am sure, that I asked only about Lord Edenbridge for the sake of my daughter? The latter questions, I confess, came simply from my own curiosity, though that is no excuse.” She rose to her feet, Miss Leverton beside her, and Lady Martins quickly followed suit. “Do forgive my lack of propriety. I can assure you, it will not happen again. Thank you again for your welcome and the tea. It was all most enjoyable.”
Jane offered the lady a small smile but did not feel it within her heart. She did not much like Lady Keswick she decided, for to speak so bluntly, and with such inconsideration, did not speak well of her character.
“Thank you.” Lady Martins bobbed a quick curtsey and Jane’s smile grew wider and a good deal more genuine. “We did enjoy our conversation very much.”
“I am glad.”
Jane inclined her head and then watched as all four ladies left the room, leaving her to stand alone.
The relief which washed over her was palpable. The moment that the door shut, Jane sank back down into her chair and looked over towards the stack of letters. Her advice was becoming a rather popular feature in The London Chronicle, but to receive ten letters within the space of a single day was rather overwhelming! She would have to read every one, and then decide which would be the best one or two or even three to reply to. The rest would either have to be set aside for the following day, or discarded completely, which Jane did not want to do.
“No doubt more letters will come tomorrow,” she murmured to herself, wandering over to the small stack of letters on the table. Her heart began to grow heavier as she thought about what answers she might give, what sunshine she might be able to bring to an otherwise darkened situation.
But then it lifted.
Has Lord Edenbridge written to me?
The thought stirred her heart and within moments, Jane was rifling through the letters, trying to ascertain which, if any, had been sent by him.
And then, she found it.
Recognizable simply by the way he wrote his letters, Jane’s heart leaped as she took it out from amongst the others, only to then frown, hard.
Why am I so delighted to have found his letter to me?
Blinking, she looked down at the letter again, trying to make the joy in her heart fade simply by sheer determination, but it would not. Instead, it only grew and grew and grew as her fingers itched to break the seal and open up the letter, to read the words that he had written to her, and to ascertain what it was that he sought help for next.
Jane swallowed hard and then set the letter down abruptly, blinking furiously as she tried to calm and quieten her emotions.
Instead, they only grew louder in the face of her defiance.