She and Hugh had spoken at the funeral, but she’d been lost in a fog of grief, and busy playing hostess to the crowd of mourners besides. There hadn’t been occasion for anything beyond what politeness demanded.
“I appreciate you making the effort to check that I’m all right.” She slid her teacup onto the windowsill. “But it wasn’t necessary. I’ll be in Town in a fortnight, staying with my sister Susan and her family.”
He put down the tankard and surveyed her out of somber dark eyes. He’d always been thoughtful rather than flashy. But the serious habit seemed to have grown on him over the years. She wondered when he’d last laughed from sheer joy. A long while ago, she’d wager.
“You never had a London season, did you?”
“One was planned, then Papa fell ill.” And she’d become nurse and companion and estate manager.
“You’ll love the social whirl.”
Her lips twisted in self-derision. “Oh, I’m too old for all that nonsense.”
“Rot, Jane. You’ll find London provides plenty of amusement for a mature woman.”
She tried not to mind that he didn’t argue with her about her age. However ancient she felt after these last difficult months, she was only twenty-eight. She made herself respond lightly. “I hope so.”
His expression was assessing rather than disapproving. “So you’re going to live with Susan?”
“No.” Jane barely hid a shudder. She struggled to sound enthusiastic about her intentions. “That’s only a visit. I hope to find a suitable house in a provincial town. Perhaps Lyme or Weymouth. I’d like to live by the sea. Miss Ashton, my old governess, has agreed to come along to preserve appearances.”
This definitely didn’t please him. Those thick mahogany brows drew together over his long, straight nose. “You can’t be looking forward to that. Within a month, you’ll be bored stiff. Why don’t you stay in London?”
Because in the years following her mother’s death, her father had made a series of unwise investments, and the money Jane had inherited didn’t allow for high jinks in the capital. But that was none of Hugh’s business. In fact, she was puzzled that he thought he had some right to advise her on her future. Despite long acquaintance, as adults they verged on being strangers.
“I like Dorset,” she said.
“You haven’t been anywhere else,” he said shortly. “Wait until you’ve seen London and tasted what it has to offer.”
Actually she had a suspicion that London just offered more family duty. She loved her sister, but she wasn’t blind to Susan’s intention to foist the four youngest children onto Jane, while she launched her oldest daughter Lucy into society.
“Perhaps,” Jane said neutrally. “I haven’t made any final decisions.”
“Susan hasn’t offered you a permanent home?”
A permanent post as poor relation and uncredited governess, he meant. “Yes, she has. But it’s time I tested my independence.”
Compassion turned Hugh’s eyes a deep velvety brown, so deep Jane felt she could drown in the rich color. Why hadn’t she ever noticed what nice eyes he had?
“High time.” He paused. “Although I’m hoping after we’ve spoken, you might choose another path altogether.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
He smiled, although she couldn’t feel he put his heart into it. “It’s a credit to your modesty that you don’t.”
Good heavens, what was all this about? It sounded like the prelude to a proposal of marriage. She’d had a few of those over the years, from older gentlemen who noted her devotion to her father and wanted her to look after them with similar dedication in their declining years.
But Hugh was no decrepit old codger. He was in the prime of life.
“Are you well, Hugh?” she asked in concern, studying that tanned face and the large, powerful body.
Well? He appeared almost aggressively fit.
He looked startled and sat up straight in his chair. “Are you worried about my sanity?”
She supposed the question sounded bizarre. “I’m sorry. I was wondering if you needed a nurse.”
At least his laugh emerged more naturally than his smile. “Not a nurse, you goose.”