I wish Grandmother were alive.She used to give the best advice. Perhaps it was time to start remembering it.
*
She smiled atthe crush. For an off-Season event, this rout already had a good showing. Viscount Nattingly must be popular or else the members of the ton who’d remained in Town were bored. It didn’t matter to her, for her best friend lived here, and she couldn’t wait to see Fanny again.
“Jane!” The squeal cut through the ambient noise in the hall and reached her ears.
“Fanny!” She met her friend in the middle of the corridor and clasped hands with her. “It’s been an age since I was here.”
“True, but then I’ve only just arrived back in London from being in the country visiting my grandparents.” Excitement sparkled in Fanny’s blue eyes. “You received my letters?”
“I did, but correspondence isn’t the same as a gab in person.” Despite the people milling around them, Jane hugged her friend. “Did anything of significance happen in Sussex?”
“Of course not.” Fanny chuckled. “What about with you? Break another heart?”
“Don’t even joke about that.” She linked arms with her friend, determined to steer the conversation away from beaus and courtship. “I adore your gown.” The navy-blue silk sparkled with tiny silver beads and suited the brunette well.
Fanny shook her head. “We can discuss wardrobes later.” Gently, she pulled Jane aside and out of the way of others milling about the corridor. Lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, she said, “There are several unattached men of note here tonight.”
Oh, bother.“I’m not looking for a match. You know that.”
“You might once you discover how dashing the Duke of Ballantrae is this evening. I’ve never seen a more gorgeous man in my life.”
She tamped the urge to roll her eyes. “A duke is something I definitely don’t aspire to land.” If she thought hard, she could summon his image in her mind, and he was quite the Adonis, and a young newly minted duke at that. Apparently, his father had suffered a seizure then a stroke that had killed him quite suddenly.
“You could do worse,” her friend was quick to point out.
“I could do better,” Jane responded in a sharper tone than she’d intended.
“Than a duke? Don’t be too quick to write him off. Mama says he’s on the prowl for a duchess, and you would be the perfect fit. And how cute a couple the two of you would make!” Mischief twinkled in Fanny’s eyes. “I might be of a mind to play matchmaker.”
Something akin to panic swirled through Jane’s stomach. She clutched her friend’s hand. “Please don’t.” Having her position so elevated in society wouldn’t leave much time for her dreams. She’d never wanted to attract anyone of consequence or title though her father no doubt expected it. The panic slowly grew into fear. Once her father realized the duke was here, would he endeavor to wrangle an invitation?
Of course, he would, for then, he needn’t worry over her future any longer.
Drat, drat, drat.
Never had she wanted to hide from a society event more. “Please don’t,” she repeated in a weaker voice.
“All right.” Fanny frowned as she regarded her. “There are other men who’ve been invited tonight. Papa wanted a nice showing of military officers. For instance, Major Storme is here.” Excitement wove through her tone.
“Oh?” A frisson of interest buzzed at the base of Jane’s spine. Now that was news. She’d followed reports of his exploits in The Times during the war as she’d hunted for her last fiancé’s name or even for her brothers on the lists of the dead. From all accounts, he’d been heroically brave and tragically wounded during Waterloo. Now that was the perfect storybook hero. For years she’d daydreamed about him, what he looked like, the battles he’d entered, what she would say if she were ever to meet him. “How wonderful.” Surreptitiously, she cast a glance around the corridor. Would she even know what he looked like?
“Isn’t it?” Fanny’s eyes sparkled. “I can’t wait.”
What was this then? Jane narrowed her eyes. “Do you fancy him?” All her make-believe castles built in clouds came tumbling down around her ears.
“Oh, no, but I aspire to have an ounce of his courage. Perhaps I could if I talked with him.”
“Why? You are plenty brave, I think.” In childhood, Fanny had fallen from a horse and broke her ankle. It didn’t heal correctly, leaving her with a permanent limp that she was self-conscious about every time she went out. “I’ve often felt inspired by you.”
“Pish posh.” Fanny smacked Jane’s arm in a teasing fashion. “Do stop.” But her smile was glorious. If she kept that up, she’d be the one matched in short order. “However, Major Storme is in a Bath chair.” She dropped her voice. “Paralyzed or so the rumors go.”
“I hadn’t heard that.” There’d been no more articles about him after he’d been injured at Waterloo and sent home. No doubt he’d been in hospital for a while.
Fanny went on regardless of Jane’s tendency to slip into thoughts. “If he can appear in public like that, surely I can manage to not hide like a wallflower behind potted ferns due to my limp when the attitude turns to dancing. Mama said she hoped there would be some tonight.” She shrugged. “It’s sad, I know.”
Jane slipped an arm around her friend’s shoulders as she propelled the girl forward, slowing her stride to accommodate said limp. They moved along the corridor toward the drawing room where laughter and the buzz of conversation carried to her ears. “You don’t need to hide.”