At The Stroke Of Midnight (2 page)

As the two women made their way
through the crowd, Jane could overhead snippets of conversation, most of it
gossip about what had just transpired between the doctor, the duke, the
viscount, and Drake.
 
A few however,
were whispering about Jane herself, and about how chances of her making a match
on the marriage mart were dimming rapidly, especially since she had not been
able to display her musical skills earlier.

Those comments were to be expected,
Jane decided as she accepted a glass of lemonade from Caroline.
 
After all, she would be six and twenty in
the fall, with numerous failed seasons behind her.
 
Too old, really, to make a match, even a poor one.
 
Too plain for any man to desire her as a
wife.
 
Too unsuitable for any but the
most desperate of fortune hunters.

The tears that she had somehow kept
at bay earlier threatened to fall now, but she had more pride than to allow
anyone to see her.
 
She was about to
excuse herself to Caroline when she turned and ran smack into the one thing she
never expected - a man who was taller than she was - thereby sending several
glasses of lemonade as well as a plate of tea cakes crashing to the floor.

"My sincerest apologies.
 
I am so very sorry," Jane gasped,
feeling her face immediately redden and prayed that Angeline had not seen her
nearly trip and fall directly into an unknown man.
 
"I was not watching where I was going.
 
I will find a maid to clean this mess
up.
 
I am forever being
clumsy."
 
Then she looked up and
into the deepest, most swoon-inducing brown eyes she had ever seen and forgot
everything else she was going to say.

As their gazes locked, she felt
something akin to lightning pass through her body, every inch of her coming
alive as she stared into the man's dark eyes.
 
She did not think she could look away even if she wanted to, and, at
present, she had no desire to do so.
 
She felt her toes curl in her satin slippers and knew a flush was
beginning to creep further up her neck.

Much to her dismay, she also felt
her breasts grow heavy and was fairly certain that other, not to mention
extremely pleasant changes were occurring inside of her.
 
Her breathing was shallow and she felt as if
she might swoon where she stood.
 
Given
the way the stranger looked, it was little wonder that he was affecting her
thus.

The man was remarkably tall and
dressed completely in black evening clothes.
 
With only the stark white of his shirt and cravat visible, he appeared
even taller.
 
At least to Jane.
 
He was broad-shouldered with a narrow waist,
and when she risked a downward glance, possessed the most well-muscled legs she
had ever seen.
 
His thick, lustrous
brown hair was curly, and perhaps, were it a shade longer, a bit unruly as
well.

It was his eyes though, that held
her completely captive, making her forget how to breathe for a moment.
 
If eyes could smile, this man's did.
 
And they were smiling at her.
 
Plain Jane.
 
The spinster nobody wanted.

"It was I who was being absent
minded," he said with a smile, revealing perfect, even white teeth.
 
No, not perfect she realized quickly.
 
His canine teeth turned in a bit at the
edges and were longer than the others by a small measure.
 
It made him seem more human, as did his
husky, almost smoky baritone, which warmed her all the way to her toes.
 
Oddly, it seemed that he was just as affected
as she, something that she considered nothing short of a minor miracle.
 
At the very least, he was not berating her
and did not seem all that angry.
 
More
amused than anything, were she to give the expression on his face a name.

"Ahem."
 
That came from Caroline and Jane immediately
tore her eyes away from the stranger to look back at her friend.
 
She was probably embarrassed that Jane had
been so clumsy.
 
Or that she was staring
so outrageously at a man to whom she had not been introduced.

Except that she wasn't.

Instead, Caroline was smiling, that
same secretive smile that she gave when anyone asked her a question she did not
particularly want to answer.
 
"Jane," she said with a twinkle in her eye, "may I
present Lord Sebastian St. Giles, the fifth Earl of Covington.
 
He is a bit of a rake, but do not allow that
to frighten you.
 
I have it on excellent
authority that, at heart, he is a good man."
 
At that, Jane dropped into a deep curtsey, one that would have
made her mother proud.
 
Or she liked to
think that it would have anyway.

Then Caroline turned to the man
whose shoes Jane had probably ruined and graced him with one of her infamous
"Caroline the Lady of Mystery" smiles.
 
"And, my lord, may I introduce Lady Jane Ashford, the eldest
daughter of the Earl of Devonmont."
 
The man bowed low and once more, Jane was struck by the sheer size of
his body and wondered, just for a moment, at the strength and power it must
contain.

Caroline gave Jane a quick smirk,
obviously noticing how taken Jane was with the newcomer.
 
"Lady Jane was supposed to perform on
the pianoforte for us tonight.
 
After
all, this was to be a musicale.
 
However, I am afraid that her father has decided that it would not be
proper after all the excitement."

"A pity," the earl
offered, still smiling, and, in that moment, Jane wondered if he might not be a
bit addled in the head.
 
Which would
truly be unfortunate given the way he made her stomach flutter.
 
Men, at least in her experience, did not
smile at her.
 
They gave her a polite
grimace and then turned away.
 
She knew
this.
 
Obviously, this man did not
understand the way of things.
 
"I
should have liked to hear you perform.
 
I am given to understand that you are quite good."

Jane laughed.
 
She could not help herself.
 
No one, especially no one from the
aristocracy, remarked on the quality of her playing.
 
She
was
good, of course.
 
She knew it.
 
However, she was
also far too plain and undesirable to be seen as a good match for anyone, so
therefore there was no need to sing the praises of her talents.
 
On the other hand, Lizzie, who was only a
passable singer at best, was constantly being praised as possessing the voice
of an angel.

"I am not certain whom you
have been speaking to, my lord, but I am afraid that perhaps they are tone
deaf."
 
Jane always belittled her
own talent, at least in public.
 
It was
the acceptable and proper thing to do.
 
Proper young ladies did not boast.
 
Well, unless they were Lizzie, according to Angeline, who had every
right to do so because she was so remarkable.
 
It was only in the privacy of Jane's own musings in a little notebook
she kept hidden under her bed that she admitted that she was a decent
musician.
 
Actually, better than
decent.
 
She was very, very good.

"Jane!"
 
Caroline clearly
was
horrified this
time.

However, the earl held up his hand,
fully laughing now, but not at her, Jane quickly realized.
 
But rather
with
her.
 
As if he knew she had deliberately lied
about her skills.
 
As if he knew that
she was far, far better than she admitted.
 
"No, no, my lady.
 
It is
astoundingly refreshing to meet a lovely young woman who is honest enough to
admit her shortcomings rather than expound on non-existent talent.
 
I so tire of that prattle rather quickly,
I'm afraid.
 
Better to know a woman's
failings up front, I say."
 
The
twinkle in his eyes let Jane know that he was joking and she found herself
becoming a little more enchanted with the man in front of her.
 
As if she wasn't quite taken with him
already.

"Then it will please you to
know, my lord, that I am also equally as horrid at watercolors and embroidery,
though I do try.
 
After all, what young
lady does not wish to at least appear skilled at all of the feminine
arts?"
 
Then Jane smiled serenely,
as if this sort of discussion was a common occurrence.
 
In turn, the earl smiled back and she
thought she saw a spark of true interest flare in his eyes.
 
He was enjoying this; so was she.

Jane did not talk this way.
 
Ever.
 
She did not say what she thought or use sarcasm.
 
She did not flirt or skirt the boundaries of
propriety - which she was most certainly doing at the moment.
 
She was always unfailingly polite, even to
the point where she thought her teeth might crack from false smiles.
 
She told pretty lies and demurred when asked
about her skills.
 
She was always the
perfect lady.
 
The perfect, overlooked
wallflower.

So whether it was the events of the
evening or the realization that, in some ways, it no longer mattered what she
said or did because she was to be banished at the end of the season, Jane
decided in that moment to allow her true personality to shine through.
 
She would be brazen and reckless and
daring.
 
She would say slightly
scandalous things and tease this man.
 
He seemed willing enough to play the game and for once, she was enjoying
herself.

With this man, this earl, she would
be exactly who she was - at least the same as she was in private with Amy and
Caroline.
 
She would not hide her
sometimes cutting wit or her occasionally sarcastic comments.
 
She would make fun of herself.
 
She would laugh and smile.
 
Because after this season, no one would
care.
 
No one would ever want to marry
her, so what did it matter?
 
It
didn't.
 
Especially with this man that
she had only just met and would never see again once the evening ended.

"Every young lady of my
acquaintance wishes to be so skilled," Lord Covington replied, and Jane
decided that he might, in fact, truly be enjoying their conversation.
 
Perhaps he wasn't pretending, as she had
initially suspected.
 
"Few,
however, admit to being complete and utter failures.
 
As I said, it is refreshing.
 
Completely delightful."

"Then I am a rare jewel among
women, am I not, my lord?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, just the
way Lizzie did and simply because she could.
 
For once in her life, Jane was conversing with a handsome, attractive,
witty man.
 
Why not flirt?
 
It was the only time she ever would.

Covington smiled wider now and she
could tell by the twinkle in his eyes that he was truly enjoying himself.
 
"A true paragon of womanhood.
 
I am surprised that you are still
unattached, my lady.
 
Though I will
admit that your sense of fashion is exquisite, so on that count, you are
obviously not a failure.
 
I do not see a
flounce or ruffle, two things which I have come to abhor, in sight this
evening.
 
Since you do not wear them, I
will assume you do not speak of them either."

"No, my lord, I do
not."
 
Angeline had insisted that
Jane's gowns become plainer this year since Lizzie was debuting and all
attention should be focused on her.
 
Given how much Jane abhorred the needless ruffles and bows that were so
in fashion, she had not minded all that much.
 
Though she did mind the colors that Angeline selected.
 
This evening's gown was a dull gray, so dull
as to be almost white.
 
She looked as if
she was dead.
 
But it
was
free of
embellishments.
 
There was that, at
least.
 
"As you can see, I prefer a
less decorated silhouette.
 
At my
height, there is no reason to draw additional attention to myself."
 
Shockingly, she swept her hand down the
skirt of her gown.
 
Ladies did not call
men's attention to their bodies.
 
At
least not according to Angeline.
 
Tonight, Jane simply did not care.

"Wonderful.
 
If I have to hear another inane sentence
expounding on why eight flounces are better than six but ten are too many, I
fear I shall have to put out my ears."
 
The earl took Jane's hand in his and kissed the back of it.
 
She felt the contact all the way through her
glove and had to resist swooning on the spot.
 
"And I confess that if I must listen to another treatise on why one
dressmaker is better than another, I may slip into a dead faint."