In the Arms of an Earl (7 page)

“I seem to be a clumsy ox of late.”

He shook his head, smiling. “It is very crowded. But”—he stood and set the plate of candies on its pedestal—“I will make good on my word and treat you, if you will allow it.”

“You are too kind, but please, do not trouble yourself. I wish Lucinda had not asked you to…”

“Nonsense. Pretend I’m a knight of old in the days of chivalry. How could any man possibly refuse a lovely damsel?”

It took her a moment to realize he meant her. She was tongue-tied. His smile faded as his gaze intensified.

“Let’s buy the sweets and go,” Jeremy complained, appearing beside them. “I did wish to ride today. Miss Brooke, will you accompany me? Father bought me a splendid pony before you arrived, and I’ve yet to set him to his paces.” He led her away from the colonel, who was examining the array of tempting delicacies on the counter, his back to her.

Lucinda popped up at her side and thrust a brown lump at her. “You must try this, Jane.” She licked her stained lips.

Before Jane could reply, the treat was in her mouth. She nearly gagged from the invasion of creamy smoothness assaulting her tongue and palate. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the texture and taste of the chocolate—dark and rich, with the slightest peppery tang. Lucinda clapped her hands.

“Colonel B. thought you’d enjoy it. He’s bought a whole box of them!” She turned around, scanning the shop. Spotting him, she waved. “Colonel B., please, buy me one of these adorable sugar kittens!”

Jane dabbed the corners of her mouth with her handkerchief, startling when she caught Jeremy’s concentrated gaze upon her. “You still haven’t answered my question, Miss Brooke. Will you ride with me today?”

His manner was almost menacing. The colonel’s approach saved her from having to respond. He placed a gaily wrapped box of candy in her arms. She stared at it, unsure of how to react. Jeremy coughed to remind her of his presence. As if she could forget.

“I don’t ride very well,” she replied, with the first excuse that came to her mind.

“Suit yourself.” He walked away, Lucinda following after as she urged him to try one of her sweets. Jeremy spoke to her harshly, and she returned to the shop, her face downcast.

Jane turned to the colonel. “Sir, this cannot be for me.”

“If you would rather have sugar kittens as Lucinda…”

“No, it’s just that…”

“Please, Miss Brooke, accept the sweets as payment for allowing me to hear you play last night.”

Heat rose from her throat to the crest of her cheekbones. “I cannot accept…”

“I did not mean to imply anything untoward.” He’d lowered his voice so only she could hear. “If you wish, I will never speak of it again. I mean it as a sincere compliment. You have more talent than you give yourself credit for.”

She hesitated, but allowed a curt nod. It was difficult not to believe him, even though they’d just met. The feeling she’d known him forever returned.

“They will not be an exclusive gift for you, if it makes you feel better. We will share them. Is that permitted?” He seemed amused by her reticence.

She nodded again, mentally kicking herself for not being more gracious. Perhaps he was accustomed to lavishing gifts on Lucinda, and held her in the same paternal regard.

“You said you do not ride, Miss Brooke. May I suggest we proceed with our plans this afternoon in the library? Perhaps Lucinda would care to join us.”

Lucinda came up to them. “La, Colonel B!” She giggled. “I spend as little time as I can there. But you and Jane must choose a pretty picture book, and I will paint the two of you as you study.” She tapped her chin like an old wise woman, leaving a smear of chocolate on her face. “Hades and Persephone.”

The colonel laughed. “Are you still painting from mythology, Lucinda? I do not wish to criticize your artistic mien, but I am not as glowering as old Hades, am I?”

Jane recalled the myth of Persephone—a goddess captured forever by the infatuated god of the underworld. Her chest tingled, and she held the box of chocolates more securely.

“You used to look like him,” Lucinda explained. “Before, when you visited us. I was terrified of you.”

He pinched her cheek, and she laughed, completely belying her words. A pang of jealousy disturbed Jane for an instant, but she shook it off. Lucinda and the colonel were old friends. Despite her late night music lesson, the colonel and she were barely acquaintances.

“Are you implying I have changed?”

“You’re not as gruff as usual. You never left your rooms except at tea and dinner, yet—here you are, in a sweet shop!” She clapped her hands, obviously delighted she’d dragged him from his accustomed melancholia.

He bowed. “I admit I owe my good humor to the amenable company of charming young ladies such as Miss Brooke and you.”

Jane studied the pink velvet bow on the box and pretended not to hear the conversation, though it was exceedingly delightful to have so much attention. Lucinda tugged her arm.

“Do let us depart for home, Jane. I have the perfect costume for you as Persephone.”

She shook her head vehemently. “I implore you, Lucinda—no more costumes.”

Lucinda pouted. “Very well. I shall use my own imagination. It’s probably for the best, as Papa would be mortified if he saw you in a toga.” She headed outside to where her brother waited, swiping at a patch of flowers with his walking stick.

“Did you enjoy your chocolate?” the colonel asked Jane as they followed them outside.

“I’ve never tasted anything like it before in my entire life.” She was sure she had tasted fine things before, but somehow, could not remember anything before today.

She studied the box in her arms. The velvet bow could trim a hat. It would always remind her of this perfect day, with the sun peeking behind fat, white clouds and the gentleman on whose arm she clung. For a moment, she pretended she was Mrs. Frederick Blakeney, exotic society beauty, and the borrowed dress she wore was one of several in her wardrobe. Her left hand tingled as she envisioned a wedding ring, but she quickly pushed the thought away when the idea of a wedding night popped into her head.

“You should keep trying new things, Miss Brooke. It becomes you.”

With little experience in small talk, she didn’t know how to respond, despite how comfortable and familiar he seemed. She should have paid more attention when her sisters discussed their many beaux. But she had always dismissed talk of flirtations and clever conversations for more scholarly pursuits.

“I am not averse to trying new things,” she insisted. “I never used to like Beethoven, but recently began learning some of his sonatas.” She bit her cheek. He who had fought in a war hundreds of miles from home would hardly be impressed by her meanderings into the world of music.

“I hope Beethoven and chocolate are the start of many new things for you.”

Lucinda and Jeremy walked ahead, and Jeremy glanced back now and then as if to check on them. He scowled at the colonel, and the arm beneath her hand stiffened. They walked in silence the rest of the way and fell into step together. He shortened his gait to match hers, and she was touched by this simple gesture.

He was everything her parents would want in a husband for her—intelligent and settled, with property in Shropshire, as Lucinda had casually mentioned. Though untitled, he was of noble blood, which alone would win over Mamma.

Realizing where her mind had wandered, she gave a start, embarrassment sweeping over her. She had no right to think of the colonel in those terms. He was merely a kind gentleman—an old war friend of Colonel Parker’s, showing a country spinster a little taste of adventure. How pathetic she must be, daring to think of marriage to such a man. As her mother always said, it was better she’d stuck to books and home life, because nobody wanted a wife without accomplishments or beauty. Her sisters had taken all the beauty and talent her family had bestowed, leaving Jane with nothing but her own mind.

Besides, beauty and talent mattered little to a man who’d sworn never to love again.

****

Frederick glanced down at the girl by his side. She’d tucked her hand around his arm, a part of his sleeve pinched between her fingers. He was astounded his injury had not repelled her. Her reaction to him the previous night had given him hope where he’d scarcely had any before.

At first, he’d believed her heart already promised to Jeremy, but from her tone and attitude, it was obvious she had no attachment to him. Although Jeremy had much to learn in manners and respect, he was a good-looking fellow with bright, blue eyes and a dashing seat when he rode in the park. Frederick was too aware the younger Mr. Parker had stolen more than a few hearts in London the previous season.

His chest tightened at the thought of Jeremy proposing to Jane. He’d do it out of spite, just as he’d acted toward certain other females of Frederick’s circle. He swore silently, irritated he felt insignificant beside a younger man who was unequal to him in sensibilities and taste.

He stole another look at his companion. The apples of her cheeks were stained pink from the crisp air and her constant blushes, which he found endearing. He enjoyed listening to her quiet voice, which rose only when she discussed music. Then, her gestures became animated, and her eyes lit up. He’d never met anyone so enthusiastic about playing. Besides himself, of course.

Thinking about music inevitably reminded him of the night before. He didn’t know why he’d suggested they play together. He was no seducer, but the idea had crossed his mind more than once as he shared the narrow bench with prim Miss Brooke. He was all too relieved to bid her good night, as one more glimpse of her round eyes staring up at him was enough to make him forget his obligations to his friend and violate the trust he sensed Miss Brooke bestowed upon him.

Unable to sleep after she’d gone, he’d restlessly paced the drawing room until he was finally forced to return to bed. All he did then was relive the memory of holding her hand. She’d gripped his with astonishing fervor, her innocence belying any other kind of message he might have inferred. He’d hastily dressed in the morning, impatient to see her in the light of day.

He looked forward to spending the rest of the afternoon in her company. They would surely have more time to play Lucinda’s pianoforte, and there was the upcoming ball to be discussed. He’d enjoyed dancing before the war and rather looked forward to taking up that pursuit again. As long as Miss Brooke was his partner.

Behind the pursed lips and matronly hairstyle, he sensed a passionate soul. How fortunate the man who could unlock the secrets hidden in her heart. Eager to read his favorite poems to her, he wanted to see her reaction, to experience her delight when she realized there was more to life than the mundane existence she’d had so far.

But why should he care? She was going home in a few weeks and probably had numerous suitors awaiting her return. Besides, she could not be more than, what—eighteen? Younger?

As if her age was a hindrance to marriage.
Admit it, Blakeney—women want a whole man.
Not one whose scars were more than just surface deep.

A sudden dip in the path turned his heel just enough to make him wince as a pain shot up his leg, ending in his groin, where he’d been injured by shrapnel from Napoleon’s army. He’d mastered his affliction for so many years his outward appearance would not have changed. He knew how to laugh through multiple attacks on his shattered nerves so as not to offend present company.

He carefully steered her around a small puddle. She rewarded him with a grateful smile, her gaze locking with his in the space of a heartbeat.

For a moment, the aches and pains lessened, and he almost felt like his old self again, before the war had taken away everything he used to be.

Fortunately, Jeremy and Lucinda’s presence prevented him from sweeping innocent Miss Brooke into his arms and kissing the most perfect pink lips he’d ever seen.

Chapter Seven

After luncheon, Jane waited for Colonel Blakeney to move toward the library. She fidgeted with her fork.

“More cake, Jane?” Lucinda asked.

“No, thank you.” She tried not to look at the men, who were discussing the Battle of Waterloo, where Colonel Parker had fought. She looked pointedly at Lucinda. “Did you want us to join you in the library now, Lucinda?”

Colonel Blakeney stopped talking and sipped his tea. His eyebrows furrowed. “Ah, yes! Robert.” He rose from his chair and gave a little bow. “Our reminiscences have betrayed my promise to these young ladies for an entertaining and most instructive engagement in the library. Will you excuse us?”

Colonel Parker stifled a yawn. “Of course, dear fellow. I will then keep my previous engagement with my favorite divan and nap. Jeremy, stay out of your sister’s hair for the rest of the afternoon.”

Jane averted her eyes from Jeremy’s hard stare. No one else seemed to notice. Colonel Blakeney offered his arm, as if he were about to escort an elegant lady through a ballroom. Her heart leapt at the prospect of spending more time with him—even if it was in Lucinda’s presence.

They entered the library, and Lucinda scanned the room, as if deciding where best to pose them. She gave a satisfied nod. “Please, sit by the window. The light’s better, and you can sit beside each other, which will help me tremendously.”

Jane sat on the window seat. It was narrow, which meant the colonel would be very close to her. She ignored a sudden fluttering in her middle.