Jack of Hearts (31 page)

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Authors: Marjorie Farrell

Tags: #Regency Historical

BOOK: Jack of Hearts
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“I chose the flowers carefully,” Jack told her quietly. “Pink roses seemed too childlike and insipid for you. Yet red roses were not right either. But the white ones, with that tinge of red at their hearts, seemed just the thing.”

Anne sat very still and wondered at his subtle message. Red roses usually stood for passion. Pure white flowers were about the purity of love. His flowers combined both, and she wondered if he had been trying to convey his desire or hinting at her own.

“Miss Heriot…Anne,” Jack whispered, and she looked up at him, her question in her eyes. His mouth was open to say, “I love you,” but he stopped himself just in time and leaned down to capture hers, this being a more realistic goal than capturing her heart.

For a moment, Anne tried to observe and compare the kiss to Lord Richard’s. But as her mouth opened under Jack’s, she was flooded with the most delicious sensations of warmth and weightlessness. It was as though she had disappeared and only the sensations existed.

When he felt her response, Jack put his arm around her waist, pulled her closer, and deepened the kiss. Anne gave a little moan of pleasure, and he let his hand go where it wanted—to lightly caress her breast for a brief moment before releasing her.

“Oh, dear,” whispered Anne, and then blushed at her foolishness. Jack gently lifted her chin with one long, slender finger and dipped his head again. This time, her arms went around his neck and she buried her hands in his hair. Jack pressed her close against him, but when he realized how aroused he was, he let her go and sat there almost shaking with his sudden exercise of control.

“I think that we have given Society enough time to gossip about us, Anne, don’t you?”

Anne was breathless and could only nod her agreement.

“Perhaps we should, ah, rearrange ourselves and stroll back?” he added, restoring his cravat to its former precision. Anne patted at her hair and pulled at the bodice of her dress.

“You are right, we’d best go back, my lord,” she whispered.

“Surely we can be Anne and Jack to each other now,” he said lightly as they rose and she took his arm.

“Of course…Jack.” But calling him Jack reminded her of his nickname, and as they made their way back down the path, she wondered how many young women he had kissed. With kisses like that, it would not surprise her if he had captured a full suit!

* * * *

Jack was right. When their announcement appeared, the gossips were saying, “I told you Aldborough would carry the day,” as though a few nights ago they hadn’t been convinced Miss Heriot was on the verge of choosing Windham. And Captain Scott, who had followed his instincts, was several hundred pounds richer, for the odds against Jack had gone up after Anne and Windham’s tête-à-tête.

The Astons were lingering over a late breakfast when Charles pointed out the announcement. “Given what you told me, Elspeth, I am not surprised that Anne has chosen Jack, but it all happened so fast. I wonder he even had time to propose.”

“I know Anne wanted to settle things quickly,” Elspeth said, attempting to defend her friend, although she too had been taken aback. “And as much as we might have wished differently, it does not seem to be a love match.”

“They certainly tried to make it look like more than a business arrangement last night. They were in the garden long enough to settle any last-minute contractual details,” Val said with a grin.

“Anne did look a little pink upon her return to the ballroom, so perhaps the garden was a little warmer than she expected it to be,” Charles agreed, his eyes twinkling.

“Well, we must do something for them. Might we have a supper dance, Charles, to celebrate their betrothal? I know you haven’t entertained much in town since Charlie died…”

“But this would be a perfect occasion, if it isn’t too much work for you, Elspeth. I would be delighted for us to take the place of Anne’s family.”

“Are you sure this won’t tax you too much, Elspeth?”

“I am with child, Val, not suffering from illness. And I can ask my mother to help me.”

“Well, if the formidable Mrs. Gordon takes charge, it’s sure to be a success,” joked Charles and they all laughed, for after life in the army, where the unexpected was the rule, Mrs. Gordon was a most talented organizer.

“I’ll call on Anne this morning and make sure she approves the idea,” said Elspeth happily.

* * * *

When Elspeth called later, Anne had been up for hours. She had awakened in the middle of a dream kiss, but try as she would, she could not get back to sleep and dream herself back into Jack Belden’s arms. She lay there as the sun came up, remembering the night before, realizing that for all her distress over Lord Windham, at least she was taking a husband whose heart was in his kisses.

Despite her lack of sleep, she was restless, and when Elspeth arrived, she suggested they go for a walk.

“I would be happy to, Anne,” her friend agreed as she retied her bonnet. “Val has been insisting that I ride and walk only at a sedate pace, and I need some vigorous exercise.”

* * * *

They chatted about inconsequential things along the way, but once they reached the park, Anne turned to Elspeth and said, “I suppose everyone has read the notice by now.”

“And we may encounter some who are throwing themselves into the lake, having lost all by wagering against Jack,” Elspeth teased.

“Oh, dear, I had forgot how gambling-mad Society is. In Yorkshire we are more careful of our money!”

“I was happy to see that you and Jack had some time alone last night. He must have been taken by surprise, after all.”

“I did not handle things well, Elspeth, if that is what you mean. Lord Aldborough—I mean, Jack—was upset at first, and rightfully so, but I think we have come to a better understanding.”

“What are your wedding plans?”

Anne looked at her friend and laughed. “Do you know, I have been so intent on choosing a husband that I have not thought much beyond a betrothal.”

“You could wed before the end of the Season, although that would take a bit of doing.”

“I’ve felt more welcome in London than I ever expected to, but I don’t think of myself as part of Society, Elspeth. I think I would like a small wedding at home in the chapel at Wetherby.”

“I suspect Jack would prefer something like that as well, but you will need to consult with him.”

“I am so used to being in charge of my life that it is hard to get used to the idea of consulting anyone.”

“It takes a while to get used to, but when you love someone, it gets easy as time goes on.” Realizing what she had said, Elspeth stammered, “Of course, I was thinking of Val and me.”

“Don’t get thaself into a twitter, lass,” Anne replied lightly. “Jack and I agree friendship isn’t a bad basis for marriage, and I think we have that.”

The two women walked along quietly for a bit, and then Elspeth said, “You know, Anne, if your father were alive, he’d be arranging some sort of betrothal celebration. Val and Charles were wondering if you would let us take the place of family?”

Anne stopped and turned to Elspeth. “I am very lucky to have such good friends. But are you sure it isn’t too much for you?”

“I’m feeling very well, and I have my mother to help.”

“Then I would be very grateful, and I’m sure Jack will be, too.”

It was so odd, Anne thought as they walked on, to be speaking of Lord Aldborough as Jack, as though they had been intimates for years. It was also strange to think there was someone else she would need to consider when decisions were made. She was very much her own woman. Her father may not have given her much affection, but he’d given her something almost as important—independence. He had treated her as a partner, and the day he turned the accounts over to her had been one of the proudest moments of her life.

So far, Jack Belden had seemed to respect and admire her independence—if not her practicality! But that had been when he was presenting himself as a suitor, when he needed her. Now that he had her, she wondered if things would change.

* * * *

When she told Jack about the Astons’ offer, he seemed as pleased and grateful as she was. And when she raised the issue of a wedding date, he looked at he had at Elspeth. “I must confess, I hadn’t thought much beyond a betrothal and I hadn’t much hope of succeeding…! But you must have some thoughts on it, Anne. After all, you knew that you would be planning a wedding no matter who ended up as your groom!”

From another man, this might have verged on insulting, but Jack gave her one of those heart-stopping smiles of his, and Anne had to laugh.

“You’re shamelessly frank, my lord.”

“Well, it is the truth, you must admit.”

“I will admit I hadn’t thought much about it either until I spoke to Elspeth, but I think I would prefer a small country wedding in Yorkshire with friends and family. What do you think of that? Or would you prefer a Society wedding?”

“Not at all. A small wedding seems more appropriate for us.”

Anne was surprised to feel a little hurt by his phrasing. Was a more private wedding appropriate because theirs was a marriage of convenience? Or because he didn’t like large weddings? And why should she feel hurt if it did? She didn’t expect “for us” to mean anything more, did she? Or could it be that, though she wasn’t expecting it, she was beginning to want it to mean something more.

* * * *

Jack had meant it in all three ways. He had no desire for a big public ceremony. And given their reasons for marriage, he would prefer a small wedding. But most of all, he wanted the ceremony to be as meaningful as possible under the circumstances. He wanted to take Anne Heriot to wife in a place she cared about, surrounded by people she loved. She may not love him now, but if she ever did come to love him, he wanted her memories of their union to be as warm as possible.

 

Chapter Twenty-one

 

The Astons announced their supper dance for the week after the betrothal announcement. Jack was more grateful to them every day, for the informal acknowledgments of his engagement tended to be variations on “You sly dog” or “The dark horse came in first!” He hated to think of what people were saying of Anne. A formal celebration, sponsored by Faringdon, would give their betrothal at least the appearance of something more than practical.

His older brother had inherited the diamond-and-sapphire necklace that traditionally went to the eldest son’s bride. Jack was sure his grandmother had a few small pieces she had saved for his eventual marriage, but he preferred she give them to Anne herself on the occasion of their first visit to her. He wanted Anne to be wearing something from him at her betrothal ball.

The question was whether he could afford it. Oh, now that their betrothal was public, he could charge the crown jewels based on Anne’s fortune. But he didn’t want her paying for her own engagement present, damn it. He wanted the gift to be something he paid for himself. But the question was, with what? He had a little money left from selling out, but he’d have wedding expenses to think of. He had sold a number of things already from the town house and there wasn’t much left, except for a small painting that had hung in the library since he was a child, a portrait of a Spanish ancestor whom he greatly resembled. He went in and stood before it, just as he had many times over the years, feeling comforted and strengthened by the portrayal of such an obviously admirable man who was so un-English. It meant a great deal to him, this picture, and he sighed as he took it down and wrapped it carefully in brown paper. It was more important that Anne wear something from him next Tuesday evening than he keep this small portrait. There was another and more formal one at his grandmother’s. It didn’t hold the same meaning for him, but then, he was no longer a young boy in need of reassurance.

He got a good price for the painting, and the next morning at the breakfast table, he asked Helen if he could have her help in making a purchase.

Helen looked at him with surprise. “Why, of course, Jack, but I didn’t think you were very fond of shopping?”

“I wish to get Miss Heriot an engagement present. I thought you might be better at knowing what would be attractive on her.”

Helen’s face lit up. “I would love to help you!”

“I thought so,” said Jack with a grin. Helen had been delighted by the betrothal—and not merely for selfish reasons. His marriage to Anne meant that she and Lydia would have a future, but he also knew Helen had come to like Anne for herself.

* * * *

Helen lifted her eyebrows when Jack stopped in front of Rundell and Bridges, for it was the most exclusive of jewelers.

“Are you sure, Jack?” she whispered. She didn’t want to come right out and say, “Are you sure you can afford it?” but he guessed what she meant and gave her a reassuring wink.

The clerk showed them a few trays of ostentatious necklaces, and Helen shook her head as he pointed to several. “Something smaller and simpler in design would suit Miss Heriot much better,” she told her cousin. “What about this one?” she asked, pointing out a delicate gold necklace set with garnets and small diamonds.

“Garnets are only semiprecious stones, my lord,” the clerk informed him.

“Yes, but there are the diamonds,” Helen declared. “And deep red is much more flattering to Miss Heriot’s coloring than emeralds or sapphires. Are there earbobs to match?”

“These would complement the necklace very well,” the clerk told them, drawing out a pair of diamond earrings.

“We’ll take them,” said Helen, then looked at Jack apologetically as the clerk left to wrap them up. “I
am
sorry, Jack. Did you want to look at anything else?”

“No, your taste is excellent, Helen, which is why I brought you along,” he told her with an approving smile. “I liked that necklace best, but I wouldn’t have trusted my judgment, especially with the clerk making me feel that garnets would be an insult!”

When the clerk returned with their package, Jack pointed out a smaller pair of diamond studs. “I would like these in a separate box, if I may.”

“Certainly, sir.” When he handed Jack the smaller package, Jack turned and said to Helen, “A small thank you gift. I would be proud to see you wear them at the Astons’ supper dance, Helen.”

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