One Night With You

  Seth looked Jane over, noting the flush of color creeping up her neck to stain her cheeks. Even as he told himself to resist, he evaluated her in new estimation. As a woman unwed. A widow. Widows, he had always considered ripe for dalliance. Only not this one. No matter that the sight of her spiked his desire, filling him with a burning urge to peel off her prim, high-necked gown and discover precisely how far that blush crept.

  “Thank you, but it has been over a year now,” Jane explained, darting a narrow look to her niece. “I am quite ready to rejoin Society.”

  Her niece’s lips thinned until they all but disappeared.

  “Oh,” Julianne murmured in a hopeful voice. “Then tea one afternoon this week would not be remiss.”

  “Tea would be lovely,” Jane agreed even as her nieces glowered beside her.

  “What about us? What about our lessons?” Bryony, the youngest, demanded in a squeak, her nostrils flaring with indignation.

  Seth reassessed the girls in their frilly, beribboned gowns, allowing that although his experience with children was limited, this gaggle of young womanhood reminded him of a motley bunch of pirates he had once faced.

  “You’ll make do for one afternoon.” Jane glared down at the girls as though daring them to object. Her gaze lifted then, locking with his. With her lovely mouth compressing into a tight smile, she stared down the slim line of her nose at him.

  “I shall look most forward to it,” Julianne trilled.

  “As I,” Jane murmured.

  Seth’s gaze raked her, sitting so cool and composed in her carriage, a marble statue, nothing like he remembered. No hint of the exuberant, shrieking wild girl who had swum the lake with him, climbed trees in his family’s orchard, and gathered holly at Christmas.

  He continued to stare after her as she drove away, deciding that that girl of his youth had gone, disappeared. If she ever existed at all.

  Chapter 9

  Adjusting her careful grip on a fragile Wedgwood teacup, Jane struggled to follow Lady Julianne’s animated chatter.

  Murmuring and commenting at appropriate intervals, she struggled to understand why she risked the wrath of her relations to sit in the Earl of St. Claire’s townhouse.

  If Desmond or Chloris returned home and discovered Anna tending to the girls instead of her, they would have a great deal to say on the matter. Her fingers plucked at the arm of her chair and she shoved the prospect from her mind.

  She looked up quickly at the sound of the door opening. A maid entered, bearing another tray of biscuits. Rebecca, Julianne’s companion, rose to take the tray.

  Sighing, Jane leaned back on the sofa feeling an odd mixture of relief and disappointment. And she had her answer. The one she had been avoiding.

  With a small shake of her head, she took a sip of hot tea. No matter how she hid from it, the truth reared its head. She sat in the St. Claire townhouse because she wished to see Seth again. Craved to see him. If only a glimpse. Even if he looked on her as he did in the park. With that same remote stare. As if he stared through her and did not see her at all.

  Even so, she still longed for the sight of him, recalling him as he’d been at Madame Fleur’s. His eyes had gleamed, burned. Burned for her. Jane gave her head a small shake. Not her. He would never burn for her.

  “I’m so glad you saw fit to come today.” Julianne leaned forward, her voice gentling as she added, “And I respect your need to properly mourn your husband. Did you love him very much?”

  Jane choked on her biscuit. She cleared her throat with a deep drink of tea before answering. “It was a match arranged by my parents. Lord Guthrie and I were not…close.”

  “Oh.” Julianne leaned back, her disappointment obvious. And Jane felt that disappointment as keenly as a knife’s blade to her flesh. Somehow she felt she had let Julianne down. As girls, they had shared dreams of marrying dashing gentlemen and living happily ever after in neighboring castles.

  Naturally, Jane had never told Julianne that her brother was the hero of her fantasies. She had told no one that, had kept that particular secret tied close to her heart.

  Eager to change the subject, Jane asked, “How long have you been in Town?”

  “Nearly a fortnight.” Julianne sighed, an edge of dissatisfaction in the sound. “I’ve longed to come to Town. Remember how we planned taking our Seasons together?”

  A smile tugged Jane’s lips. “I recall we were to wear matching gowns of white Charmeuse to Almack’s,” she murmured. Neither ever had that Season. Jane’s parents had arranged her marriage without the need for a Season, using the connections of Madeline’s new husband, the ancient Duke of Eldermont.

  “Yes!” Julianne laughed, then sighed, the sound tired, defeated. “At least I finally made it to Town. I have Seth to thank for that. Albert would never have brought me.” Her expression clouded. “But it’s not all I thought it would be. Not that I’m ungrateful to Seth. I’m so happy he’s back. He’s the only one who has ever taken my wishes into account. But…”

  “But?” Jane prodded.

  “He suffocates me terribly,” Julianne confessed. “He insists on limiting me to drives in the parks. He doesn’t permit me to accept a single invitation.” She crossed her arms rather severely, reminding Jane of a child denied. “Why did he bother to bring me? He might as well have left me at the Priory.”

  “Don’t overset yourself.” Julianne’s companion glanced up from her knitting. “Give him time. He’ll soon see how capable you’ve grown.”

  Julianne smiled indulgently. “Rebecca is the eternal optimist.”

  Jane moved beside Julianne. “I’m sure your brother intends to make the rounds with you once the Season gets in full swing.”

  A frown flitted about Julianne’s mouth. “Seth worries how I will be received.”

  Jane nodded, well imagining the manner in which the ton would regard her. Overly concerned with individual assets—internal or external—they would treat her like damaged goods.

  “I’ve told him I don’t care.” Julianne’s chin lifted. “I’m no fool. I realize many will dismiss me. Heiress or not, I am blind.” She paused, moistening her lips. “And yet I still yearn for the chance.”

  Jane scanned Julianne’s earnest expression. “If anyone could open minds, it would be you.”

  “Hmm.” Rebecca nodded in agreement.

  “Surely a brave enough gentleman exists to ask me to dance.” Julianne angled her face, and it seemed that she turned instinctively to the warm rays of light spilling from the open terrace doors. “It would require a special sort of man to want to dance with me—”

  “Not so special,” Jane argued. “You’re charming. And pretty. Two traits I happen to know attract gentlemen.”

  “Yes.” Julianne’s mouth twisted in a manner reminiscent of Seth. The similarity caused a bothersome pang in the region of her heart. She must really put an end to this annoying infatuation. It should have died years ago. With all her other childish dreams. “But sight happens to be another trait gentlemen prefer.”

  “I’ve told you already,” Rebecca inserted, her hands working with feverish ease as she knitted. “Some fellow with less than refined looks is going to hone in on you like a bee to honey.”

  Jane and Julianne both burst into laughter.

  “And I would welcome his attention,” Julianne replied, her laughter subsiding. “Blindness has taught me to value an individual’s inner light.” She exhaled deeply. “Now if I can just convince Seth to let me out for an evening so that I might stumble upon a gentleman with inner light.”

  Jane studied Julianne thoughtfully and wondered if she had ever witnessed anyone so determined to make the best of her life, despite all hardships. It made Jane more resolved to seize what happiness she could.

  “Seth’s venturing to Vauxhall tonight,” Julianne volunteered, a plaintive edge to her voice. “Of course he claims it unsuitable for me to join him.” She pulled a face, indicating what she thought about that.

&nbs
p; “Vauxhall?” Jane murmured, thinking of the recently reopened outdoor theater. A prime place for assignations of a less than respectable nature.

  Perhaps the reason Seth wanted to go to Vauxhall without his sister was to engage in one such assignation. No doubt that had been his goal at Madame Fleur’s. And perhaps he had done so after she left. Vauxhall with its dimly lit paths was one such setting. Even in large groups with chaperones paying diligent attention, ladies managed to steal away to darkened trails with their young swains.

  Unable to stop herself, she inquired, “Is this your brother’s first visit to Vauxhall since you’ve arrived to Town?”

  “I believe so. He happened upon an old acquaintance yesterday who invited him. I believe Mr. Manchester has a sister Seth is interested in meeting.”

  “A sister?” Jane echoed, tearing off a tiny piece of biscuit and stuffing it into her suddenly dry mouth.

  “Yes,” Julianne released a rather wistful sigh. “Since he intends to take a wife this Season, he’s making himself agreeable to Society.” Her lips twitched. “Lucky him.”

  With decided care, Jane set her saucer back down on the ser vice and swallowed her bit of biscuit. She tried to think of an appropriate response to this news, but words failed her. Seth had come to Town to marry. It shouldn’t come as a shock. Marriage was the natural course for any gentleman of means.

  At the stretch of silence, Rebecca looked up from her knitting and studied her with a curious lift of her brows.

  Feeling compelled to fill the gap in conversation, Jane opened her mouth to speak. “I—” her voice cracked. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “I am sure he will have no difficulty finding many an agreeable lady. His greatest challenge will be in choosing from the vast number of debutantes out this Season.” To say nothing of the ones who had not wed last Season. Or the Season before. Or the many widows about Town looking for a new husband. Her heart sank. Heavens, her competition would be endless.

  Competition? The thought brought her to a hard stop. She was not in the market for a husband. Especially when her relations kept her hidden from Society under a shroud of mourning, too happy to use her as their drudge. Besides, she had Matthew to consider. Someone needed to be home for him during school holidays.

  “I fear he will be beyond selective,” Julianne groused. “He has unreasonable expectations.”

  “Indeed?”

  Julianne paused and bit her lip. Releasing it, she confessed, “He expects us to like each other.”

  “Oh.” Jane blinked. “Well, that’s considerate of your brother to consider—”

  “No, you don’t understand. That is quite nearly his only qualification. He wishes to wed a lady who likes me.”

  Jane stared in silence at the young woman, feeling decidedly confused. That a gentleman would only require that his bride like his sister was decidedly odd.

  As though reading her mind, Julianne explained, “I know it’s strange, but when Seth returned home it was to find Albert dead and our cousin working to have Seth declared legally dead. We did not even know Seth had been transferred to ser vice in China. I had assumed he was still fighting pirates and slave smugglers on the African coast.”

  “Tell the all of it. Tell her what that wretch Harold did,” Rebecca exclaimed from her chair, working her needles with sudden force, as though the scarf taking shape was the wretch under discussion.

  Julianne smoothed a hand over her elegantly arranged coiffure. Only the slight tremble of her hand indicated her next words gave her discomfort. “Harold petitioned to have me committed.”

  “Committed? In an asylum?” Jane sputtered in outrage.

  Julianne nodded, tucking a wispy auburn tendril behind her ear.

  “Blindness is not a mental affliction.” Jane’s hands fisted in her skirts at the injustice done Julianne. By a member of her family, no less.

  Julianne shrugged one shoulder. “Harold wanted me out of the way. He probably would have succeeded if Seth had not returned.”

  “The blackguard!”

  “Now you see why my brother is determined to marry someone who likes me.”

  Frowning, Jane shook her head. “I fail to see the connection—”

  “He needs to feel confident that his wife would look out for me and protect me from Harold if something should befall him.”

  Jane nodded slowly, understanding at once. Seth had no desire to marry. He married for the sake of his sister. No doubt his experience with her family had soured him to the notion of marriage.

  She would never forget his face that day, earnest and determined as he stormed into their dining room, bellowing Madeline’s name, fists swinging at the footmen who tried to stop him. He had been convinced her sister was restrained somewhere within the house, that some force—aside from her own fickleness—kept her from meeting him as promised.

  He had been wrong. Nothing had kept Madeline from him save her own ambitions to wed someone titled, someone richer—someone other than a second son destined for the navy. A portside cottage and naval lieutenant’s trifling wages could hardly entice Madeline to go against their father and elope with Seth.

  Jane did not see the unyielding man from the park succumbing to such sentiment again. His cold gaze and scant civility had chilled her. Softer sentiments were lost on him.

  The bronze clock on the mantel suddenly released a bell-like tinkle, alerting the hour. Jane rose. “I must take my leave.” Anna no doubt needed relieving from watching the girls.

  Julianne grasped a silver-headed cane beside her. “I’m so happy you came today. Meeting you in the park was purely providential.”

  “Indeed so,” Jane replied with a smile, trying not to feel a stab of disappointment at not meeting up with Seth again today.

  Julianne stepped forward, lightly knocking her cane about what was clearly still an unfamiliar room. “Allow me to walk you out.”

  Jane grasped her by the elbow. Rebecca tucked her knitting away into a basket and fell in step behind them. They had just cleared the threshold and entered the corridor when a deep voice reverberated over the air.

  “Good afternoon, ladies.”

  The familiar voice slid through her like warm brandy, melting her insides.

  “Seth,” Julianne greeted warmly.

  Jane tensed, meeting his dark gaze, hoping she appeared more composed than she felt. She had hoped to see him, but to look at him now, standing so rigidly, that cold veil over his eyes, a deep ache filled her chest.

  She wanted him to look on her with something in his eyes, anything. Wanted some flicker of emotion to show itself in the hard angles of his face. Emotion that proved a shred of the boy she had known still existed, that the same passion that had sent him crashing into her parents’ dining room, fed by his love for a woman who would never have him, still dwelled beneath his hard veneer.

  She ached to think that no remnant of that young man existed. That her family had destroyed him.

  But nothing showed on his face.

  The boy she had found so easy to love was nowhere in evidence. The years had stolen him. He looked on her with eyes flat and cold as he lightly took her fingertips to bow over her hand.

  Foolish, she supposed, to hope she would see anything when he looked at her.

  Chapter 10

  Seth could not tear his gaze from Jane. She was dressed in another dull gray gown, this one possibly even more depressing than the last. And yet he felt just as overcome by the sight of her as he had been in the park.

  He could not say what kept him standing before her when he knew he should excuse himself to his study and avoid her as he had vowed to do on any occasion that his sister might entertain her company, unwilling to permit her to rouse his desires anymore than she already had.

  Seth needed a wife. An uncomplicated female that did not inspire his passions. Such he would not find in Lady Jane Guthrie.

  “Jane came for tea,” Julianne volunteered.

  Bowed over her hand, he schooled his f
eatures into a mask of apathy lest she think he felt anything at all when he looked at her. “Yes. I see that.”

  Certainly he felt nothing for her. No tender feelings, at any rate. Any softer emotion he had felt during their childhood died long ago, the very day her family tossed him from their home as if he were nothing more than a mangy dog.

  “Lord St. Claire,” Jane inclined her head, her manner tight and overly dignified, her voice rigid and clipped as she tugged her hand free of his. The consummate ton matron now. She bore no resemblance to the exuberant girl who had once pounced on his shoulders in his family’s lake with an ear-splitting squeal. He stared intently at her face, searching for a glimpse of that girl—strangely disappointed when he did not find her. Tempting morsel she may have grown, but no fire lurked beneath.

  “Lady Guthrie. How nice to see you again,” he returned politely. “I trust you’ve had a pleasant afternoon?”

  The question was innocent enough, but even he heard the edge to his voice, the suspicion, the compulsion to make certain that her time with Julianne had passed smoothly. That Jane had not treated Julianne like some sublevel human as so many Society ladies did.

  “I for one have had a splendid time,” Julianne volunteered. “Jane is such a darling. We must never let her slip away again.”

  He cocked an eyebrow and dragged his gaze over her in slow perusal, lingering on the generous swell of her breasts rising and falling enticingly with her even breaths.

  He looked away when he began to swell against his breeches. Staring over her head, he sucked in a steadying breath and renewed his vow to avoid her company. To feel nothing at the sight of her.

  “Indeed, we must not,” he intoned, the flatness in his voice deliberate as he eyed the length of corridor and contemplated escape.

  Jane’s smile wobbled in the face of his seeming apathy.

  His sister continued, her voice light and airy, a direct contrast to the thick tension swirling in the air. “I must say, Seth, Jane was quite vexed to hear you are not permitting me to join you at Vauxhall this evening.”