Page 50 of The Lady Was Lying
“I critiqued you mercilessly,” Belinda corrected.
James had so little experience with siblings that he had no idea whether they were conversing or arguing.
“Not true.” Jane reached out and squeezed Belinda’s hand. “You guided me to perfect my form.”
Belinda appeared at a loss for how to respond, giving his mother the opportunity to reenter the conversation. “James was forced to learn with me as his partner.”
“You obviously instructed him well. His direction is flawless,” Jane replied.
“Well, thank you. Have you danced together often?” she asked, as if she hadn’t read every word written about him and Jane and knew the exact time and place where they had interacted.
“Only once. At my debut. We were supposed to dance together yesterday, but I was a touch unwell, so Belinda took my place.”
His mother’s gaze turned calculating. “The scandal sheets didn’t mention Lady Belinda and my son partnering, only that he didn’t dance with you last evening.”
“The scandal sheets never mention Belinda,” Jane responded, as if it was a well-known fact and not at all odd.
“Whyever not?” his mother asked, echoing his own thoughts.
Jane scratched her cheek. “I couldn’t say.” She turned to Belinda. “Why haven’t the scandal sheets mentioned you this season?”
“Because I’ve been mostly absent, and there is nothing to report.”
“You danced with the duke last night,” Jane reminded everyone.
“As a favor,” Belinda said.
“I suppose that is true. Not sure how the scandal sheets would know that, but you do try to avoid attention as much as you can, so perhaps that is why.”
Belinda nodded, and the conversation turned to the musical that evening.
Once again, Belinda lapsed into silence. James didn’t have much to add either. He was too busy sneaking glances at Belinda and wondering why his dance with her had not been mentioned in the papers. It was perhaps the first time he had publicly engaged with an unmarried woman and had it ignored.
How very curious.
“Should we stop for ices on the way back?” James asked when they finally exited the park.
“Yes,” Jane squealed.
Leaning slightly forward, Belinda rubbed her ear. Why was Jane being so loud? It was difficult to tell if her sister was trying to impress James or repel him with her unnecessary enthusiasm.
“You must really like ices,” he commented.
“Who doesn’t?”
“What about you, Lady Belinda?” he asked.
“Oh, yes. I suppose they are all right,” she murmured, not really feeling strongly one way or the other. Something about the encounter in the park had knocked her a bit sideways, and she was struggling to pinpoint the exact cause.
It wasn’t Lady Elias. She had always been cold to Belinda. And it wasn’t his mother. Obviously aware of the speculation surrounding James and Jane, she had directed most of her attention toward Jane, but she had not been outwardly rude to Belinda. If anything, she had been staring a bit too closely at her by the end of their conversation.
James shifted on the bench, and she had to resist the urge to lean into him, as if she wanted to touch more of him rather than less.
Why did she remain so aware of him?
They arrived at the ice shop, and James parked in the sun, asking them what they wanted and then leaving them to wait while he purchased the ices. Jane chattered as if she didn’t notice how quiet and withdrawn Belinda had become. Belinda wasn’t sure whether to thank her sister for ignoring her mood or beg her to ask what was wrong.
James returned with his hands full. “Two brown bread.” He handed one to Jane. “And one pistachio.” He passed it to Belinda.
