“Oh, no, you will not,” Lady Heyward said, laughing. “If there is any kidnapping to be done, it is I who will be doing it—with Heyward’s help. Not that he would agree to do anything so dashing or dangerous, of course. With Ferdie’s aid, then. We will kidnap Lady Sara and Tresham and bear them off to St. George’s for a grand wedding. Will we not, Ferdie?”
Lord Ferdinand, seated across the table, next to Charles, grinned. “I would need the assistance of half a regiment of burly military types, Angie, if I were to try trussing up Tresham,” he said.
Viscount Kimble sighed soulfully. “Alas,” he said, “do not forget all about me or my heart will be broken, ma’am.”
Jane laughed at him, and the conversation would doubtless have moved on to another subject. But Charles, perhaps not recognizing the light, teasing tone of the conversation, chose to speak up.
“As Lady Sara has said,” he told the group, “she will be returning to the country for the summer. Perhaps sooner.”
“Oh, yes,” Lady Heyward agreed, laughing. “After the wedding. Now really, Ferdie—”
“Lady Sara will be returning to Cornwall. With me,” Charles said with enough emphasis to attract the attention of everyone seated at their table. “We have long had an understanding.”
“Charles!” Jane said sharply before explaining to the group at large. “We have been friends and neighbors all our lives.”
“Tresham might have a thing or two to say about yourunderstanding,” Baron Pottier said. “Are you really going back to Cornwall, Lady Sara? Jardine notwithstanding?”
“I believe I will be able to protect my own betrothed from any further impertinences from that direction,” Charles said.
“Charles,please…”
“Oh, you are mistaken, sir,” Lady Heyward said merrily. “Lady Sara is going to marry my brother even though they have quarreled and have danced together only once this evening—”
“Stow it, Angie,” Lord Ferdinand said. “The lady is looking embarrassed. Let’s change the subject. Let’s talk about the weather.”
But Charles was not to be deterred. He actually stood up, scraping back his chair with his knees. And somehow the action attracted general notice in the crowded dining room and the noise level dropped noticeably.
“Lady Sara Illingsworth will not be the object of any London buck’s gallantries for much longer,” he said, indignation vibrating in his voice. “I will be taking her home where she belongs. Not to Candleford, buthome.”
Jane would have closed her eyes in mortification, but she glanced first at a dark-clad figure standing in the dining room doorway. He must have been on his way out, but he was standing still now, his quizzing glass in one hand, his attention on Charles.
“Mr. Fortescue,” Lady Lansdowne asked from the end of their table, “are we to understand that you are announcing your betrothal to Sara?”
Jane’s eyes locked with Jocelyn’s in the doorway.
“Charles—” she said aloud.
“Yes, ma’am,” Charles said, raising his voice and speaking now to an audience of every single guest at the ball. “I have the honor of announcing my betrothal to Lady Sara Illingsworth. I trust everyone will wish us happy.”
A swell of sound in the dining room replaced the silence. But then Jocelyn took one step forward and a hush descended once more.
“No, no, no,” he said, every inch the Duke of Tresham again. “I would wager that Lady Sara has not consented, and it is not goodton, you know, Fortescue, to make such an announcement unless the prospective bride has done so.”
“Of course she has consented,” Charles said testily. “We have had an underst—”
“Haveyou, Jane?” The ducal quizzing glass swung her way. “How naughty of you, my love.”
Jane heard a feminine gasp at the duke’s use of the endearment. While Jocelyn was actuallyenjoyinghimself, Jane was wishing for a black hole to swallow her up.
“She isnotyour love,” Charles retorted, “and I would thank you for not—”
“Ah, but she is,” Jocelyn said, taking a few more steps forward and lowering his glass. “And I must protest most forcefully against your imagined betrothal to her, my dear fellow. You see, much as I commend you for the concern you have shown for her well-being, I really cannot permit you to marry my wife.”
There was another swell of sound, but it died away quickly to a chorus of hushing noises. No one wanted to miss a word of this drama, which would be repeated endlessly and with blissful relish in dozens of drawing rooms and gentlemen’s clubs for days, even weeks to come.
“What?”Charles had turned pale, Jane saw in a quick glance at him. He was looking at her across the table. “Is this true? Sara?”
She nodded almost imperceptibly.
