“Felicity is well,” answered the duchess, to some question of her mother’s. “She and her husband are planning a trip to London in the spring, in fact, with our grandchildren. We’ve been brushing up on our Italian.”
Yes, Lady Felicity. That was his oldest sister’s name. She must be Princess Felicity now, and of course Jane’s parents would inquire after her right away, excited to have a connection, however tenuous, to Italian royalty. Lord Townsend himself might be an Italian prince, in his finely tailored coat and shining riding boots. She imagined he must ride very well. He seemed the sort to do everything very well.
She did nothing well, except for things young ladies weren’t supposed to be interested in. She slid a look at him, wondering if he regretted his proposal now that he was sitting so near her. He followed the parents’ conversation politely, contributing when required. His voice was very deep, rumbling and masculine, rich with personality. As for Jane, she could not seem to summon a word. She could only think, why? Why are you here? Why do you wish to marry me?
Soon, talk turned to their new engagement and impending wedding.
“How pleased I was to receive your son’s petition for marriage,” said her father. “So many young men these days aren’t of a mind to wed and settle down into family life.”
“Indeed.” The Duke of Lockridge smiled at his duchess. “I remember how unhappy I was when this one dragged me before the parson.”
The duchess returned his smile and blushed in a way so girlish Jane could only stare. Her mother and father never teased one another, especially in front of company. That was what they were doing, teasing, like a pair of courting birds. Lord Townsend caught her eye with a faintly embarrassed half-smile.
She did not know how to respond, whether she ought to smile back or shyly glance away. She’d had little experience with marriageable gentlemen, especially the dashing, mysterious type that made up Lord Townsend’s circle of friends. Some said they were the scandalous sort, but Jane imagined it was unfair gossip. June’s association with Lord Wescott hadn’t had a whisper of scandal associated with it. Well, until he jilted her to marry an operatic singer.
“We’re pleased about this engagement as well,” the duke continued over his wife’s blushes. “How exciting, for our two families to unite behind an excellent match.”
They shared lemon cake, cream fingers, and wedding plans, although Jane felt too shy to eat, drink, or say a single word unless prompted for an opinion. What day? Any day. Which church? Any church with an altar and parson would do. She could not bring herself to plan too excitedly. What if Lord Townsend changed his mind about a wedding before this polite tea was over? She would have liked to converse with Rosalind, who did not seem so threatening, but she wasn’t sitting here in her special toile dress to spend time with Rosalind…
“Jane, dear.” Her mother’s voice interrupted her jittery, anxious thoughts. Jane glanced at Lord Townsend. Had she offended him because she was too hapless to address any conversation to him? “The sun is out today,” her mother went on, “and the conversation of elders can be tiresome. Why don’t you show Lord Townsend around the courtyard gardens?”
“What a lovely idea,” said the duchess. “I’m sure the young people would enjoy some fresh air.”
“Go fetch your cloaks,” her mother pressed, as Jane’s heart beat faster. “And a bonnet, Jane. You’ll need it for the sun.”
“I’d love to see your gardens, too,” said Townsend’s sister, putting down her plate and rising to her feet.
“Rosalind, why don’t you stay?” The duchess’s tone was kind but firm.
Lord Townsend’s sister resumed her seat, polite enough to almost hide her disappointment. Jane, on the other hand, rose with some reluctance. A walk in the gardens brought to mind every soiled hem, every scolding she’d received for mucking about in the dirt.
Lord Townsend indicated that she should proceed before him, and she did, feeling the weight of five pairs of eyes as they left the parlor. Why could she not do anything easily, with grace? Why do you wish to marry me? she thought. How could I possibly become your wife?
They were being sent out into the gardens because they were engaged to wed and must get to know one another. As much as she wanted to get married, as much as she admired the intriguing Lord Townsend, she had not pictured courtship being as nerve-wracking as this.
Chapter Three
A Walk in the Gardens
Townsend accepted his overcoat and hat from the butler, then waited as his future bride donned a pale blue pelisse and bonnet. Lady Jane. She looked exactly like her name, prim and unobjectionable. Not ugly, not at all, but no raving beauty either.
Plain Jane.