Caro and Silas she already knew. Curiously she looked at the other guests. A pretty blonde woman sat on a chaise longue beside a mountain of a man with black hair. A stylish, dark-haired lady with a commanding nose occupied a chair under the window. Standing beside her was a tall, elegant gentleman with thick gray hair that seemed incongruous on someone who couldn’t be much more than forty.
As expected, they were all beautifully presented. If only Susan’s modiste had offered her a gown like the black-haired lady’s teal blue silk, Jane
would have had no difficulty making a hole in Hugh’s fortune. At least the faces turned toward her expressed friendly interest—despite the wasp dress and Hugh’s history with Morwenna. She began to feel less like a freak, although after two weeks alone with Hugh, she was unsettled to be in company again.
Caro drew her forward, while Silas and Hugh retreated to the corner beside the fireplace. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”
“It’s very kind of you to invite me,” Jane said, meaning it. Her smile became more natural.
Caro made a dismissive sound. “Hugh is one of Silas’s best friends—and anyway, I liked you at the wedding. I thought it might be nice if you met some people at a small gathering, before you have to face society en masse. I know how daunting that can be.”
“You liar, Caro. You wouldn’t have a clue.” With a mocking laugh, the dark lady rose. She was tall and slender, and Jane didn’t think she’d ever coveted anything in her life the way she coveted that spectacular gown. “When you came out of mourning, you were champing at the bit to queen it over the beau monde. Wild horses couldn’t have dragged you back to rural obscurity.” She turned to Jane. “I’m Helena, Silas’s sister. This is my husband, West.”
Jane had a moment to reflect that Helena and Silas looked nothing alike, as the striking, gray-haired man bowed over her hand. “Lady Garson, I’m delighted to welcome you to London.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Jane curtsied.
The blonde approached. Her pale green gown was more understated than Helena’s teal, but just as becoming. She took Jane’s hand and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I’m Fenella Townsend, and I hope we’ll be friends.”
The greeting’s warmth left Jane floundering. “I hope so, too,” she stammered.
She caught a light of approval in Hugh’s eye. Her panic receded another few inches.
Fenella gestured the huge man forward. “This is my husband Anthony.”
The man held Jane’s hand. “It’s grand to meet you at last, lass.”
The thick Yorkshire accent took Jane aback. Then she realized that this must be Lord Kenwick, reputedly the richest man in England. News of his rise in the world had penetrated even as far as deepest Dorset. He and the ethereal Fenella seemed an odd pairing, Beauty and the Beast.
“I didn’t know you and Fen were back from Italy,” Hugh said, striding forward to shake Anthony’s hand with unfettered pleasure.
“We got in on Tuesday.”
“Good trip?”
“Aye, very. I closed a right jammy deal with the Genoans, and Fen hustled me around every mucky lump of broken masonry between Pompeii and the Alps.” He didn’t sound like he minded, Jane noted. “We ran into Sally and Charles in Venice.”
“They’re away more than they’re home these days,” Silas said.
Jane let the conversation flow around her, grateful that while discussion centered on travel and absent friends, she ceased to be the focus of attention. She soon found herself sipping a glass of sherry and sharing the chaise longue with Fenella Townsend.
“The new names and faces must be overwhelming,” Fenella said, her blue eyes sympathetic. “Eventually you’ll sort everyone out, but it’s all right to feel at sea at first. We’re all so happy that Hugh has married you. I can see just looking at him, how good you’ve been for him.”
“Thank you,” Jane said, glancing across the room to where Hugh and West were talking about horseracing.
Hugh had told her a little about his friends before she met them. He moved in influential circles. The Kenwicks formed the center of a worldwide network of power and business. The Wests were renowned horse breeders, with several Derby winners in their stables. Silas was a respected botanist and President of the Royal Society, while Caro busied herself with a brood of four children and charity work.
“How did you meet? When Caro wrote to us in Italy to say Hugh was getting married, it came as a bolt from the blue. He’s such a dark horse.”
Jane made herself smile. It wasn’t quite the effort it had been when she’d first arrived. “His proposal came as a bolt from the blue to me, too.”
“A whirlwind romance,” Fenella said with unabashed delight.
If only, Jane thought with a touch of bitterness. But she owed it to Hugh to keep the details of their pragmatic bargain to herself. “Not at all. He’s known me from the cradle. Our fathers were best friends.”
“Childhood sweethearts, then?”
Jane blushed with mortification. Not sweethearts in any sense. “Not at all. When the families got together, he thought I was a complete pest.”