Page 29 of The Truth about the Marquess
“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 andherdaughter 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.
Chapter Thirteen
The hope of a response to his letter was so great that Oliver felt almost feverish as he paced up and down his drawing room. In the last sennight, he had taken tea with Lady Keswick and her daughter, Miss Leverton, and now he had just returned from a second walk with Lady Henrietta, though her mother had walkedwiththem, not even so much as a little behind, as he had hoped that she might. Lady Henrietta had been very pleasing in her conversation, and when she had smiled at him there had been warmth there which had also pleased him greatly. They had not spoken of his fortune, of his supposedlackof fortune, at least, and what he had said in that regard had been that he was well-settled and quite contented. This was spoken in the hope that she would understand his meaning, and not believe any rumors of his being impoverished. Likewise, Lady Keswick and her daughter had not asked him anything specific regarding his situation and standing, and though Miss Leverton had smiled and spoken to him in conversation about various other things, she had not been as warm in her manner as Lady Henrietta. That being said, he did find Miss Leverton a little prettier than Lady Henrietta and thus, he now found himself in something ofa bind. What was he now to do? Both ladies pleased him, and he appeared to be pleasing to them and thus, their connection could continue – but in what way? Ought he to continue to encourage both connections at the same time, knowing that only one could lead to courtship? Or ought he to decide now which one he would pursue a little more strenuously, in the hope that all would go right? A little uncertain, he had written again to The London Chronicle, sure that he would be given some excellent advice on how to proceed.
Idly, Oliver began to wonder about who the writer was. To his mind, he had no doubt that it was a lady, for the advice given was always so very considered and, he thought, rang with the voice of a gentle but astute lady who knew society well enough to speak of it with great understanding. A lady of theton, then? But someone who, mayhap, required that employment – for, surely, it would be a paid position, not something that one would do voluntarily.
“Though,” he murmured, still pacing up and down the room, “I must wonder if they are determined to keep their name a secret there, for fear that someone will discover her identity and then tell all of society about it! Is that the reason that the writer remains anonymous?”
