In the Arms of an Earl (6 page)

“Their middle brother is the Earl’s heir,” Lucinda continued, rattling off the Blakeney family history. “None of them have any children, which is a shame. Fortunately for Colonel B., he will not have to take his brother’s place at court and will be spared the endless suffering his injury has cost him.” She shook her head. “People can be so cruel. They will look past the goodness in a man’s heart and see only the exterior. He does not deserve such a fate. So”—she held the dress up for Jane’s approval—“it is for the best he will remain a bachelor. Do not you agree?” She smiled brightly. “This will look lovely on you, Jane. But if you’d rather wear your brown frock…”

Jane promptly reached for the dress. No matter if she was acting like the kind of girl she detested—someone who would primp and preen to attract a suitor. Changing her dress would please Lucinda, and Jane was nothing if not a gracious guest.

“I’ll wear it if you like.”

“Then I shall wear my pink muslin, and we will look like sisters. You are so fortunate to have grown up with two sisters. What tremendous fun.”

A twinge of homesickness slipped through Jane’s good humor. “It was fun,” she admitted. “But having a brother must also be fun. My father longed for a son.”

Lucinda sniffed. “He would not have chosen Jeremy.” She laughed at her joke, and Jane had to agree with her.

Resolving never to wear her plain frock again, Jane switched her garments for the new dress. Lucinda found a matching bonnet and handed it to her. As Jane tied the gauzy ribbon beneath her chin, she stared at her reflection. Oddly colored, half brown and half green eyes looked back at her. Beyond her eye color, there was nothing extraordinary about her. She was a simple girl who scorned parties and assemblies, preferring to live through books and music. She hated dancing, because no one ever asked to be her partner, and she couldn’t ride because no one had taken the time to show her.

She was the lump of coal among the diamonds that were her sisters. Papa had encouraged her to refine her mind. She realized now he’d meant to be kind, knowing she would never catch a husband without the blessings of a pretty face and multiple accomplishments. The most she could hope for was special outings like this, with a friend who scorned marriage despite the fact she could have her choice of suitors.

No matter the amount of pretty dresses and matching bonnets, she was still Jane Brooke, spinster. Perhaps it was just as well the colonel was a sworn bachelor with no inducement to take a bride.

Chapter Five

Lucinda danced about like a younger girl on the path toward the village, tugging on her brother’s coattails until he broke into a run. With a shriek, she chased after him. Jane wondered what Colonel Blakeney must think of such behavior, but as an old family friend, he was probably familiar with the younger Parkers’ antics. He hadn’t spoken much since they’d set out on their walk, but now they were alone, he slowed his stride and walked alongside her.

“Are you enjoying your visit here in Shropshire, Miss Brooke?”

“Very much.” She didn’t want to say her visit was all the better for meeting him. “I’d only met Lucinda once before, in Bath. My sisters were all together then.”

“You miss them, of course.”

She nodded.

He sighed in commiseration. “I have not seen my brother Edwin for seven years. We were very close as children.”

“Where is he now?”

“He ministers to the poor in India. He sends me packages with the most unusual things.” He chuckled, and she was curious to know what his brother had sent. “Our cousin Felix has spent time in India, as well. Not with the church, but as an investor. His interest, unfortunately, lies only in making tremendous wealth.” He glanced sideways at her. “I believe your sister is married to Mr. Shelbourne, of Kent.”

“Two years have passed since they wed,” she replied. His thoughts had naturally turned to her sister’s husband when he’d spoken of his wealthy cousin.

“He’s a good man. I knew him years ago from my regiment.” At his mentioning the regiment, his jaw clenched, as if he’d had an unhappy thought.

She wished she could say something clever to turn the subject of their conversation. All her days spent reading and in other solitary pursuits hadn’t prepared her for an actual conversation with a man younger than fifty. The silence grew between them. She longed to ask him about music but pushed the thought away, mortified if he should be reminded of seeing her in her night rail.

“How long will you be a guest at Everhill?” he asked at length.

“Another month. My mother thought I would enjoy a change of scene.”
And have better luck in catching a husband
.

“Has Lucinda painted your portrait, or have you escaped her intentions thus far?”

“She has painted my portrait at least a dozen times, but I do not mind so much.”

He laughed. “I’m afraid every visitor must play model to her aspirations. The last time she painted me I was Marc Antony, but then again, it might have been King Arthur. I don’t think anyone could tell the difference.”

Jane started to laugh but bit her cheek. It wasn’t very nice to share a joke about Lucinda, who was kind, despite her quirks. The colonel seemed to read her thoughts and sobered quickly.

“I’ve known her since she was a small girl and admire her as a doting uncle.”

“She does have talent, though. She spoke of traveling to the Continent one day to study.”

“Her father has said as much. Do you paint, Miss Brooke?”

“No. None of us…my sisters, I mean, has any artistic leaning, I’m afraid.”

“Surely, musical talent is rampant in your household.”

She smiled shyly up at him. “You are too kind, Colonel Blakeney. I know my playing appalled you last night.” There, she’d said it out loud.

“On the contrary!” He placed his hand over his heart. “My sensibilities would not permit me to be in the same room with a neophyte. Even if that neophyte had the most intriguing hazel eyes I’ve ever seen.”

She almost tripped over her feet but was grateful her stumble allowed her to lower her face, which burned with a blush. No one had ever granted her eye color an enchanting name before. But he was probably throwing a compliment her way because she was so plain.

He touched her elbow. “I beg of you, take my arm, please, Miss Brooke. This road is poorly maintained. I would never forgive myself if you turned your shoe.”

The smooth, grassy path stretched before them. She’d only stumbled at the sudden shock of his words. Without another thought, she placed her hand upon his arm. A wave of dizziness swept over her at the contact. Even though she’d played the pianoforte with her hand on his for a solid three hours, it had been in the guise of a lesson. Somehow, this was different.

“What is there for entertainment in Weston?”

“I don’t know. I tend to stay close to home, reading and playing our pianoforte.” She clenched the folds of her skirt as they walked, mortified. He had his adventures, his music, London…She must be horribly drab to him. A little brown moth to his resplendent butterfly.

“I enjoy reading, too. We’ve an extensive library at home. I think I’ve read every book my father owned. Have you read any Keats?”

She refrained from criticizing his romantic tastes. “I read Pepys, and…Sir Thomas More.”

His eyebrows rose. “No Shakespeare? You must have read a little of the bard, Miss Brooke.”

She bit her lip. “A little, I suppose. I did enjoy
Richard the Second
.”

“Such a dark story for one so young,” he chided, but his smile belied his sternness. “Not
Romeo and Juliet
? Surely, you’ve read
The Tempest
?” His brow furrowed. “
All’s Well That Ends Well
?”

She shook her head. Instead of allowing herself to dream, as a young woman ought, she’d spent most of her days reading the works of dusty old men, long moldering in their graves. What she’d thought had made her appear clever had only kept her from experiencing what the world had to offer.

“I’ve not read much literature, Colonel Blakeney. I read religious works and classical writings. We never had a governess, and I thought to educate myself. I did not wish to waste time on anything frivolous.”

“I would hardly call the human experience frivolous. But I do admire your pursuit of education, Miss Brooke. As I said last night, you’re a very interesting young lady.”

“I don’t know about interesting,” she said, but lowered her head to hide her pleasure at his words. She involuntarily caressed his wool sleeve beneath her hand and stopped, horrified at her actions, before he could notice.

“‘She walks in beauty, like the night,’” he murmured. She caught her breath, and he smiled, his gaze intently fastened on hers. “Lord Byron. Do you know his work?”

She shook her head.

His lower lip curved to one side when he smiled. “Then, I shall introduce you to him, later. I happen to know Everhill boasts a copy of his poems. Perhaps we could meet in the library this afternoon. With Lucinda, as well, of course.”

Her stomach fluttered. The ground had disappeared below her feet. “I suppose I could write my letters this evening.”

“Good.” His arm squeezed around hers, hugging it briefly to his side. They walked in easy silence for a while longer, until he cleared his throat. “If I may be so bold, Miss Brooke, will you dance with me at the ball? I don’t know anyone but you and Lucinda. My…injury”—he swallowed—“makes it awkward for some ladies. I do not think it bothers you.”

With his thick, black hair, swarthy pirate’s skin, and glittering brown eyes, he was the very image of a romantic swashbuckler. How any woman could possibly resist his charms was a mystery. She pondered how Susanna Olivier had ever spurned him.

“I am deeply flattered, Colonel Blakeney, but I’m afraid I shall disappoint you. I have a habit of treading on my partner’s toes, much in the way of Lucinda’s Turner boys.”

He made an involuntary movement with his injured arm, and she wondered if he’d have patted her hand had he been able.

“I will not mind, I assure you. My boots are thick enough to take a squashing from a young lady’s slippers.”

A giggle escaped her, and she stifled it. Hadn’t she scorned the way some girls simpered over a gentleman’s attention? Yet here she was, clutching his sleeve and acting like the kind of girl she and Lucinda ridiculed. “I won’t know anyone, either. Except, of course, Mr. Parker and Lucinda.”

“Hmm. I suppose you’ll dance with Jeremy.”

His voice changed. Lucinda and Jeremy were walking back, heatedly arguing.

“I…if he asks me.” She was sure as soon as Jeremy entered the ball and was in the presence of new company, he’d swiftly abandon his own party. The thought of dancing with anyone but Colonel Blakeney was suddenly repugnant.

“I will stay in the corner, until it’s my turn with you.” His tone was light, but she sensed he was holding something back.

“Do you not enjoy dancing, Colonel Blakeney?”

“It’s not the dancing.” A flush of color rose up his jaw. “It’s the people, the looks I receive when they first become aware of my…infirmity.”

Jane shook her head. “I cannot imagine anyone staring. You are so…” she wanted to say
handsome and admirable
but shook her head instead.

He snorted. “Then you do not know London, Miss Brooke.”

Bitterness tinged his voice, and she thought again of the beauty who had broken his heart. A sudden wave of compassion flooded her. “If no one stared at you, would you enjoy yourself?”

“I suppose I’d have to. I don’t think Lucinda will rest until she’s persuaded the entire county to attend.”

Jane wondered at her newfound courage. “I have an idea, if I may be so bold.”

“Bold? You, my dear Miss Brooke?” He chuckled, and her heart soared because he’d said
my dear
. “I am at your disposal, madam.”

Her thoughts raced with her plan. “When we return to the house, if you please, I will require one of your evening gloves.”

They paused to watch a mother duck and her offspring cross the road in front of Lucinda, who scooped up a few to help along, her quarreling with Jeremy obviously forgotten.

“I think I know what you intend, Miss Brooke, and, while you’re very kind to think of it, it will never work.”

Jeremy sauntered up to them, a slight swagger in his walk. He tipped the corner of his hat to her, and his smile was decidedly too familiar. If Colonel Blakeney did not attend the ball, she’d be stuck with
him
all night.

“Trust me, Colonel Blakeney,” she murmured. “I will make it work.”

Chapter Six

The sweet shop was crowded with children and their mothers or governesses, all seeking to find the best confections among the many silver trays and platters displaying various sugared delights. Lucinda squealed over a tray of candies for sampling and stuffed one into her mouth, urging Jane to do the same.

“No, thank you.” Her ears rang with the children’s loud chattering. In her haste to move through the throng, her elbow upset a tray of pink and yellow mints. She stooped to pick them up, hoping no one had noticed. A familiar, sun-browned hand gathered the candies beside her.

“Allow me, Miss Brooke.” The colonel’s voice was close to her ear. She turned and met his gaze and was aware just how near he was. Her face heated.