Page 9 of The Truth about the Marquess (Whispers of the Ton #3)
Chapter Eight
J ane closed her eyes and let out a long, slow breath. The questions that arose in her mind, she quietened one by one, telling herself that she had considered her response and had written not one but three responses, with the third response the most satisfactory.
“This gentleman will know my opinion on his behavior,” she murmured, opening her eyes and looking down at what she had written. The letter she had received today had come from a gentleman, albeit a young fellow, she presumed. He sought advice from her, stating that there were those in his company who were encouraging him towards doing nothing other than enjoying himself this Season in all manner of ways, while others were suggesting that he behave as well as he ought. The latter were called dull and staid and foolish by the former gentlemen, and thus, this young fellow found himself torn between two lots of acquaintances and friends.
Jane’s words were not sweet nor kind nor considerate. Instead, she had been direct and firm, telling him precisely that the first advice he had been given must have come from the most selfish, arrogant, and inconsiderate gentlemen in all of London and then questioning whether that was the sort of fellow he wished to become. Yes, her words were sharp on occasion but if she could prevent this fellow from becoming yet another rogue or scoundrel within society, then that would satisfy her. That, she considered, was the last thing that the ton required – and she had said as much.
“Good afternoon, my dear friend. Are you quite ready?”
Jane turned, just as Lady Guilford walked into the room. Having already informed the butler that she was to let the lady into the house at any time, she smiled and then nodded.
“I am. This play does sound very interesting indeed, though I must quickly seal this letter before we go.”
She caught the flash of interest in her friend’s eyes as she turned to seal the letter with wax, though she concentrated on that rather than on answering her friend’s unspoken questions. Ringing the bell, she smiled at Lady Guilford as she waited for the footman, though she still said nothing.
“You are not going to tell me anything about this, are you?”
Handing the letter to the footman with strict instructions to have it delivered at once, Jane arched an eyebrow as she looked back at her friend.
“I cannot tell you everything that I have received or that I write,” she answered, as Lady Guilford chuckled. “You shall have to wait until it is printed come the morrow. Did you know that what I write has become so popular, it is now given an entire page rather than a mere corner? I have had to respond to three letters today and two yesterday!”
“And were there any more from Lord Edenbridge?”
“I do not think it would be right to tell you,” Jane teased, aware of the slight tug in her heart. “Even in speaking of him, I confess I feel a great deal of sympathy.”
“Sympathy? Still?”
As they walked to the front door and then into Lady Guilford’s carriage, her question hung between them, waiting for Jane’s answer. It was not until she was seated and the carriage rolling along towards the theatre that Jane answered.
“Yes, I have a great deal of sympathy for him, still. I have seen – or rather, I have heard – his distrust of the ton and I can well understand why that is. He has so many people speaking of him and speaking unfairly, that, there is almost no hope left for him to secure a good match. Which is why I have offered to help him.”
She winced inwardly, waiting for the explosion of a response that she expected from Lady Guilford, but nothing came from her other than silence. Indeed, it was some minutes before her friend responded and, when she did, it was with a softness about her voice.
“You have always been very kindhearted, Jane.” Lady Guilford reached across and patted Jane’s hand. “Did you tell him that you were writing the letters back to him?”
Jane shook her head, relieved that Lady Guilford had not expressed great astonishment over what she had chosen to do.
“No, I did not. I said that I might be able to find out a little more about the characters and qualities of the three young ladies he will choose at the first,” she said, by way of explanation. “Recall that, in the letter, I did encourage him to consider only three young ladies at any one time.”
“I do remember, and I thought it good advice. Though I must wonder if you are able to keep your two roles separate.”
A frown dug into Jane’s forehead.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I do not understand why you do not simply tell him that you are also writing letters to him in The London Chronicle, if you are going to also be assisting him in other, more practical ways.” Lady Guilford tilted her head, her gaze searching. “If you do not tell him the truth now, then you may find yourself accidentally giving yourself away and causing both confusion and, mayhap, some hurt.”
Considering this, Jane shook her head.
“I do value your opinion, but I do not think that I want to tell him, not as yet. It may be that my advice is not needed for long, and then all will be well.”
Lady Guilford sighed and shook her head.
“I do not think that it is wise but, all the same, I understand. Now, let us talk about other things. Do you think the play will be enjoyable this evening? I confess to knowing very little about it!”
“It is a comedy, and I am very much looking forward to laughing,” Jane answered, with a smile. “It is sure to be just the thing I need.”
Making her way through the crowd, glass in hand, Jane tried not to get lost in the crush. The first half of the play had been most enjoyable, and she had laughed aloud on many occasions, finding herself smiling at just how freely she was able to enjoy the spectacle.
That had not always been the case. Her late husband had made certain that she was kept away from any sort of frivolity, truth be told, and that had meant a life of sadness and loneliness. Aside from his company, she had not been permitted anyone else to speak with, but now, how much had changed!
“Lady Harsham, how good to see you in London.” A hand caught her wrist, though it dropped away quickly as Jane turned. “Though I was sorry to hear of the passing of your late husband, of course.”
“Of course,” Jane murmured, trying to place the lady in front of her. “Your sympathy is much appreciated.”
The older lady’s smile grew a little fixed, as though, somehow, she knew that Jane did not remember her.
“Might I ask if you are here in London for any particular reason? After all, it has been some time since your husband passed away, has it not?”
Completely taken aback at the lady’s blunt question – and aware that there were two other ladies standing with her – it took Jane a moment to answer.
“I confess that I have come here merely to enjoy good company.”
“I see.”
“Goodness, you are most inquisitive, Lady Marchfield!” One of the other ladies who stood with them trilled a laugh and then waved a hand in Jane’s direction, as though to dismiss the concern that Jane now felt. “You must forgive her, she is always so interested in the lives of others – though not in a bad way, you understand. It is out of kindness and consideration.”
Jane forced a smile.
“I see.”
“I always wish to know what I ought to be enquiring after,” Lady Marchfield exclaimed, as though she was not truly seeking out gossip, which was what Jane silently believed. “It means that I can show a true care and consideration for each of my acquaintances.”
Catching a look shared between the other ladies, one that spoke of utter disbelief in that regard, Jane kept her smile fixed in place.
“That is most considerate, Lady Marchfield. However, I am afraid that there is nothing more for me to say other than to state that I am here in London to find the company I have sorely been lacking these last few years.”
Lady Marchfield sniffed.
“Yes, you were quite far removed, were you not?” Jane nodded but said nothing more. “I did not think your husband a particularly good man,” Lady Marchfield continued, speaking so plainly and without even a second of consideration as to who else might be listening, or how Jane herself might be feeling about what had been said. “We all know that your marriage was not one of your own choosing, however, for it was your father’s agreement, was it not?”
Opening her mouth, Jane found it suddenly dry, struggling to know what to say and how to say it without sounding very rude indeed. She wanted to tell Lady Marchfield that her marriage to Lord Harsham was none of her business whatsoever and that she did not appreciate it being spoken of in such a way… but nothing came to her lips.
“Ah, Lady Harsham, there you are. I see that you have a glass in your hand already, otherwise I would have offered to fetch you one.” A smiling face entered the conversation and immediately, Jane’s upset began to fade. “I would be glad to accompany you back to your seat. Lady Guilford sent me to find you, you see. I think she quite lost you in the crowd!”
Taking in a deep breath, Jane nodded, her throat constricting just a little.
“Lord Edenbridge, good evening.” She managed to smile as relief began to wash through her. “How very good it is to see you.”