He’d deny that fact if Jane asked him, but it was unfortunately true.
Chapter Fourteen
Honor, Honesty, and Truth
Jane woke the morning of the ball in a great state of excitement. Before she went to breakfast, she paused in her dressing room to look over her outfit for the hundredth time: the soft, flowing, pink embroidered gown, the gloves, the slippers—which were still pretty even after her spanking—and the exquisite pearl and diamond tiara Edward had bought her as a gift.
After that, she went downstairs in search of her husband, who was always an earlier riser than her. She found him in the dining room having eggs, toast, and tea. Last night, again, he had taken her with unusual fervor, with a grasping, possessive intensity she enjoyed even if it unsettled her. Funny how he could sit at breakfast proper as anything the next morning. She could not be as proper. She was too excited.
“It’s the day of the ball,” she said.
“Indeed it is. Come kiss me good morning.”
She obeyed, laughing when he tried to pull her into his lap. “Don’t. You’ll wrinkle my nicest morning dress. I’m going to wear my favorite clothes all day, and then tonight—”
“Tonight, you’ll be a marvel. But how dare you scold me for wrinkling your dress when you routinely ruin your morning gowns mucking around in the gardens?”
“Morning is my favorite time to work with plants. They’re so fresh and sleepy at that time.”
She took her customary place at the table and then jumped right back up as Rosalind entered the dining room.
“Jane, dear,” she said. “I’m sorry to call so early but I’m restless with anticipation for Felicity’s ball tonight.”
“I know, I can’t stop thinking about it. Come eat with us,” Jane said.
“Yes, join us,” said Edward. “How’s Mother this morning?”
“She’s calm as anything, just as you’d expect. She’s so good at planning these things. She sent me over to ask if Jane needed anything for tonight. Jewelry, gloves, stockings?”
“As it happens, I actually provide clothing and necessities for my wife.”
“Oh, hush, you.” Rosalind stuck out her tongue at him. “Read your boring paper. Jane, would you like to come back with me to Mama and Papa’s house for a while? Elizabeth and Hazel are meeting us there to go over last minute things with Felicity, and you’re invited too.”
“Of course, I would love to come, if Edward doesn’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all,” her husband assured her. “Mother will enjoy having all of you around.”
“Yes,” said Rosalind. “Hazel has invited Mira, Lord August’s sister, and I think Marlow’s sister Amelia will be there too, and Charlotte Mary, she’s Hazel and Elizabeth’s sister who usually lives in Yorkshire…”
Jane’s mind boggled at all the names Rosalind rattled off, but she was nonetheless delighted to meet these additional family friends and relations. She’d worried the day would drag, but in the company of so many cheerful women, the hours went quickly. They made a nuisance of themselves testing foods in the Lockridge’s expansive kitchen and exclaiming over the endless flower deliveries until the duchess shooed them away and told them the servants must get at it.
Before Jane knew it, it was time for her to return home and get ready. In the past, she’d always awaited social events with a sense of dread, but now that she was with Edward there was so much less to worry about. She only had to be elegant and amiable, and not do anything gauche like babbling about native English ivy species or tripping over her own feet.
And that wouldn’t happen, for the Duke of Lockridge had taught her how to waltz.
Matilda did her hair with special care, and then it was time to don her crisp, new stays, petticoats, and of course her flowing, high waisted confection of a gown. She put on the intricately embroidered slippers, and only then did she sit back at the mirror so Matilda could position the tiara atop her head. It was so lovely, it almost made her orange hair bearable. How it sparkled when it caught the light!
“Edward,” she exclaimed, coming to the top of the stairs. “Look at me. I feel like a princess.”
“You look like a princess.”
He gazed up at her, looking a bit stiff in his formal black breeches and stockings, but oh, so handsome.
“Do I look like a prince?” he teased.
“Indeed, you do.”
“Come down, then, so I can escort you to our royal carriage.”
“You could use a crown for the full effect,” she told him as she descended.
“That would be taking things a bit far.” He lifted her hand and guided her into a turn. “Jane, look at you.”
His intent gaze made her feel shy, but also joyous. He must love her, surely, to look at her that way.
When they got to the ball, there were so many people already there, one could hardly navigate the room. The women were in a riot of colors and jewels, trying to impress the royal contingent. The men wore traditional, formal black coats and knee breeches, and they all looked dashing, but none as dashing as her own husband.