Perhaps on those other occasions that fact had been of less significance to him. Perhaps now he had something to live for.
There was Jane.
But how could he pursue her now when he might die? And how could he pursue her when she was still so bitterly angry with him, and his own sense of betrayal was still like a raw wound?
And so in the days before the first of the duels, against the Reverend Josiah Forbes, Jocelyn deliberately avoided any close encounter with Jane. He went to the house once and found himself prowling around their private room. He looked at her unfinished embroidered cloth, still stretched over the frame, and pictured her sitting straight-backed and graceful before it as she worked. He picked upMansfield Parkfrom the table beside the chair where he had usually sat. He had never finished reading it. He played a melody on the pianoforte with his right hand without sitting down. And he gazed at the portrait he had painted of her.
Jane, with the light of life and love glowing from inside her and brightening the canvas. How could he ever have doubted her? How could he have treated her with cold fury instead of gathering her into his arms and inviting her to confide all her secrets, all her fears in him? She had not let him down. It was the other way around.
He summoned his lawyer to Dudley House and changed his will.
And was haunted by that mental image of what he ought to have done and had not done. He had not gathered her into his arms.
He might never have another chance to do so.
If he could do it just once more, he began to think with uncharacteristic sentimentality, he could die a contented man.
What utter, driveling balderdash, he thought in his saner moments.
But then he discovered from Angeline that she was to attend a sizable but private party at Lady Sangster’s. Jane, that was. She was attending no public balls yet because she had neither been presented at court nor made her official come-out. But she had accepted her invitation to the soiree.
To which Jocelyn had also been invited.
The night before the first of his duels.
24
T WAS QUITE UNEXCEPTIONABLE FOR JANE TOattend Lady Sangster’s soiree, Lady Webb had assured her goddaughter. Indeed, it was desirable that she appear in public as much as possible before her official come-out. It must not seem that she had something to hide.
But it was the night before Jocelyn was to fight the first of his duels. Jane had not told Aunt Harriet. She had said nothing to anyone about it since quizzing Lord Ferdinand. She had scarcely slept or eaten. She could think of nothing else. She had considered going to Dudley House and begging him to stop the foolishness, but she knew it would be useless to do so. He was a man, with a man’s sense of honor.
She went to the soiree, partly for Aunt Harriet’s sake and partly for her own. Perhaps somehow it would distract her mind for the evening, even if not for the night ahead or the next morning until she had news. But even if he survived the morning, he had it all to do again the next day. She dressed with care in an elegant gown of dull gold satin and had her maid style her hair elaborately again. She even consented to having a little color rubbed artfully into her cheeks when her godmother commented that she looked beautiful but pale.
The Sangster soiree had been described as a private, select party. In fact, it seemed to Jane, it was a large gathering indeed. The double doors between the drawing room and a music room beyond had been thrown back, as had those leading to a smaller salon beyond. All three rooms were thronged with guests.
Lord and Lady Heyward and Lord Ferdinand were there, all three of them deep in animated conversation with other guests. How could they when they knew their brother was facing death in the morning, and on the morning following that? Viscount Kimble was there, smiling charmingly at a young lady with whom he was talking. How could he when one of his closest friends might die in the morning? He spotted Jane, made his excuses to the young lady, and came toward her to make his bow.
“I avoid insipid entertainments as I would the plague, Lady Sara,” he said, smiling his attractive, dangerous smile at her. “But I was told that you were to be here.”
“Is all the burden of lifting the evening above insipidity to be on my shoulders, then?” she asked, tapping him on the arm with her fan. Lady Webb had moved away to greet some friends.
“All of it.” He offered his arm. “Let us find you a drink and an unoccupied corner where we may enjoy a tête-à-tête until someone discovers that I am monopolizing your company.”
He was a charming and an amusing companion. Jane found herself over the next little while engaged in light flirtation and laughing a great deal—and all the while wondering howhecould keep his mind on anything other than his friend’s danger and howshecould possibly force a laugh from her throat.
There was a loud buzz of conversation all around them. There was music coming from the middle room. She was firmly back in her own world, Jane thought, looking about. It was true that her appearance had caused considerable interest, perfectly well bred, of course, but nonetheless unmistakable. But no one had looked askance at her or been shocked at her temerity in appearing at a superior gathering of theton.
It felt like an empty victory.
“I am utterly crushed,” Lord Kimble said. “My best joke, and it has been received without even a smile.”
“Oh,” Jane said, instantly contrite, “I am so very sorry.Whatdid you say?”
His smile was gentler than usual. “Let us see if music will distract you more effectively,” he said, offering his arm again. “All will turn out well, you know.”
So hedidcare. And he did know that she knew. And that she cared.
Lord Ferdinand was in the middle room, among the people grouped about the pianoforte. He smiled at Jane, took her hand in his, and raised it to his lips.
