Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
The first ball Jane attended after returning from the countryside felt strangely different. Nothing about the glittering ballroom had changed, and yet, her life had changed immeasurably since she had last attended such an event.
Crystal chandeliers scattered warm light across polished marble floors.
Musicians performed from the gallery above while ladies drifted beneath the chandeliers in silks and satins that shimmered with every movement.
Gentlemen laughed over glasses of champagne.
Conversations rose and fell like gentle waves beneath the strains of a waltz.
Jane walked into the room feeling as though she had changed entirely. She paused beside her mother at the entrance while the butler announced them.
“Lady Wynten. Lady Jane.”
Dozens of heads turned. For months she would have dreaded that attention. Tonight, she merely lifted her chin.
Her mother leaned closer. “They’re talking.”
Jane slipped her arm through hers. “Let them tire themselves.”
Lady Wynten smiled faintly. “You’ve become remarkably composed.”
They continued through the crowd until a familiar voice called across the room.
“Jane!” Lavinia swept toward her with her usual energy, her pale blue gown fluttering around her ankles.
Without hesitation, she embraced Jane. “I have missed you terribly.”
Jane laughed. “I saw you only four days ago.”
“It feels much longer than that.” Lavinia grinned.
Lady Wynten smiled warmly at the younger woman. “Lavinia.”
“My lady.” She curtsied before immediately turning back toward Jane. “Tell me what you have been up to these past few days. I have heard nothing from you.”
Before Jane could answer, Emmeline and Rowan Huntley, the Duke and Duchess of Ironford, approached.
“Lady Jane.”
Jane turned with pleasant surprise. “Your Grace.”
Emmeline smiled warmly. “It is wonderful to see you again.”
Jane embraced her gently. “You as well, Your Grace.”
Standing beside Emmeline, Rowan looked every inch the devoted husband, his expression softening whenever his wife spoke.
“It seems London has finally regained some sense,” Rowan said pleasantly.
“We’ve been missing Lady Jane from every gathering.”
Jane smiled. “You flatter me.”
“Not at all.” Emmeline laughed. “My husband has become quite unbearable since we married.”
Jane found herself smiling more genuinely than she had in weeks. It was pleasant seeing happiness that had endured.
Emmeline reached for her hand. “I hope you’re well.”
“I shall be.”
Something in Jane’s answer must have pleased her, because Emmeline squeezed her fingers. “I rather think you shall.”
Rowan offered a polite bow. “We’ll leave you, ladies, to your conversation before my wife adopts Lady Jane entirely.”
The married couple disappeared into the crowd, still quietly teasing one another.
Lavinia sighed dramatically. “They remain disgustingly happy.”
Jane laughed. “They do.”
Lavinia linked their arms. “Come. We have gentlemen to charm.”
Jane gave her an amused look. “Is that your evening’s mission?”
“It is yours.”
Jane groaned. “Lavinia…”
Together they joined a small circle of ladies and gentlemen discussing the latest exhibition at Somerset House.
A viscount Jane vaguely recognized greeted her politely. Another gentleman complimented the music. A third asked whether Lady Wynten intended to remain in London through the Season.
The conversations were pleasant. Nothing remarkable. Yet Jane noticed something she had not expected. The gentlemen listened. They asked questions. One even laughed openly at one of her remarks.
Nearly half an hour passed before Lavinia leaned closer. “I believe you’re making progress.”
Jane followed her gaze. Several gentlemen stood watching their conversation from across the room. Jane smiled despite herself. Then someone else caught her attention across the ballroom, standing near one of the towering marble columns.
Hector.
He stood among a circle of gentlemen, impeccably dressed in black evening clothes that only emphasized his height. Even from this distance, his presence dominated the room.
As though sensing her gaze, he looked up. Their eyes met. Jane forgot every conversation around her. The ballroom seemed to fade.
She had not seen him since they returned from the countryside. Yet one look reminded her far too easily of stolen kisses beside a cottage fire.
Heat climbed slowly into her cheeks. He inclined his head politely. Nothing more. Still, her pulse betrayed her.
Lavinia followed her gaze. “Oh.”
Jane looked away too quickly. “What?”
“The duke.”
Jane forced herself to pick up a glass of lemonade from a passing servant. “What of him?”
“He appears to have noticed you.”
“He notices everyone.”
When Jane refused to elaborate, Lavinia wisely changed the subject, drawing the surrounding gentlemen into a lively debate about music and Italian opera. Jane answered where appropriate. She even laughed once or twice.
Yet, every so often, she became aware of Hector across the room, as though some invisible thread connected them no matter how many people stood between them.
The musicians finished one dance. Applause filled the ballroom. Without pause, they began another. Gentlemen stepped toward waiting ladies. Partners formed across the polished floor.
Jane had barely set down her empty glass when movement in front of her drew her attention. She looked up. Hector stood only a few feet away.
He bowed with perfect courtesy. “Lady Jane.”
Jane met the duke’s gaze. “Your Grace.”
His expression remained composed. “I wonder if you would honor me with this dance.”
For the briefest moment, the ballroom disappeared once again. Only the two of them remained. Hector’s gloved hand settled lightly around Jane’s waist as they took their places on the dance floor.
The orchestra swelled into another waltz, and around them the ballroom dissolved into graceful movement. Silk skirts swept across polished floors while chandeliers cast warm pools of light over the dancers.
Jane should have been concentrating on the steps. Instead, she was painfully aware of the warmth of Hector’s hand resting against hers.
It had been days since she had seen him. She had imagined this meeting many times. None of those imaginings had prepared her for how calmly he looked at her now. He guided her effortlessly through the first turn.
“You look well,” he said quietly.
“So do you.”
“You have recovered.”
She smiled faintly. “I’ve slept more than I have in weeks.”
“I’m glad.”
For a few moments they danced without speaking. Jane found herself studying his face. He looked as composed as ever. Yet there was a weariness around his eyes she had not noticed before.
“I told my mother the essentials.”
His eyes met hers. “Only the essentials?”
Jane nodded.
“I told her Colin is alive. That he and Evan left England together. I omitted everything concerning Strachan.”
“A wise decision.”
They turned together, moving effortlessly between the other couples.
“My mother wishes we might visit them someday.”
“I hope you will.”
“So do I.” For a heartbeat she saw the same quiet warmth that had appeared beside the cottage fireplace. Then it vanished.
“The authorities are making progress,” Hector said.
She looked up. “They are?”
“My acquaintance in parliament sent word yesterday.”
If Strachan were arrested, perhaps this nightmare truly could end.
The orchestra carried them through another sweeping turn. Jane became aware that several couples nearby were watching them. She ignored them.
Nothing mattered except the strange distance growing between her and the man holding her. He had been easier with her in dark alleys than he was beneath ballroom chandeliers.
Finally he spoke again. “And your husband hunting?”
Jane almost missed a step. “My what?”
“Have you found any promising gentlemen?”
The question landed like a slap. “How can you ask me that?”
His expression remained unreadable. “You intended to marry.”
“You know why.”
“I do.”
“Then why ask? Especially after what happened at the cottage.”
For the first time that evening, something flickered across his features. His brow furrowed slightly. “What happened at the cottage changes nothing.”
Jane’s heart sank. Nothing? She had not imagined those kisses. She had not imagined the way he had held her. Or the hunger in his voice when he’d confessed wanting to taste her.
“You may wed whomever you choose,” he said quietly.
She stared at him, unable to understand. “Is that truly what you want?”
“What I want is irrelevant.”
The words hurt far more than they should have.
“But…”
The music began slowing. Around them, the dancers prepared for the final figures.
Before she could gather her thoughts, Hector spoke again. “You should choose a man who can give you everything. I wish you every happiness, Lady Jane.”
The orchestra reached its final note. Applause rippled through the ballroom. Hector bowed with impeccable courtesy. Jane curtsied automatically, scarcely aware she was doing so.
He escorted her from the dance floor in silence. When they reached the edge of the room, he released her hand.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
Jane stood motionless. She watched him disappear into the crowd without once looking back. Confusion churned into hurt. What had happened?
Only days ago they had kissed beside the fire. He had held her as though letting go were impossible. Now he spoke of her marrying another man, as though that were the most sensible thing in the world.
Her chest tightened painfully. She needed air. Without waiting for anyone to stop her, Jane slipped through the nearest set of open French doors.
Cool evening air greeted her immediately. She stepped onto the moonlit balcony, resting both hands against the smooth stone balustrade. The sounds of the ballroom became muffled behind the closed doors.
At last she drew a long, shaky breath. She had come outside hoping to escape the heat.
Instead, she found herself trying to understand why the one man she wanted to run toward seemed determined to push her away.