But Lady Kerr brushed his excuse aside without missing a beat. “Oh, don’t worry about that. We’re all staying at the Lindens’s house. Mr. Linden is a particular friend of our family and he has a place in Sunninghill. I’m sure he’d be happy to make room for you.”
“We wouldn’t want to impose,” Eli maintained, trying to signal his mother with his eyes.
But instead of echoing his protests, she smiled broadly. “How kind of you, Lady Kerr. Are you sure he wouldn’t mind the addition?”
Jane would mind, if the set of her lips was any indication.
Damn. He should’ve warned his mother beforehand not to accept any invitations.
“Of course not,” Mr. Bishop said. “They’re two people in a large house, and some of us can pair up for rooms, if need be. It’s only four days.”
“Is Hannah with you?” asked Lady Kerr. “I should love to see her again.”
“Yes, and she’ll be thrilled to attend. We have high hopes for her this season.”
If Eli had entertained any notion of changing his mother’s mind, it evaporated the minute their outing was linked to Hannah’s marriage prospects.
“Then it’s settled!” Lady Kerr favored them with a dazzling smile. “I can introduce her to all the eligible gentlemen. How exciting! I daresay we might even have her married before Jane.”
This call had been the longest half hour of her life. Jane was ready to murder someone—most likely Cecily—by the time it came to an end. Why couldn’t her cousin pass a simple visit without dredging up her every flaw? Ever since they were young, she’d behaved as though they were in competition. Jane didn’t even know what they were competingfor. By any measure that would matter to Cecily, she’d already won when she made it to the altar first.
Earlier than that, even. She’d won on the night she’d thrown herself at Eli, for no other reason than to prove she could take the one gentleman Jane cared for.
And now he was back to provide a walking reminder of her humiliation.
Eli and his parents were the first to go, Mrs. Williams still proclaiming her gratitude for the invitation to stay at the Lindens’ house as they donned their hats and cloaks. Della’s parents rose to follow, and Jane seized the opportunity.
“We should really be leaving, Uncle Bertie. Cecily and Sir Thomas must be expecting other callers this morning.”
She issued a hasty goodbye to her cousin and hurried out to catch Della, who was lingering on the steps. Happily, the Williamses were already at their carriage, a dozen feet away. Eli’s father climbed in without a backward glance to anyone, but as Eli held out his arm to help his mother inside, he cast a final look toward the house, and his eyes met Jane’s.
It felt like a pinch, or the little zap of current one got touching someone who’d been walking on a carpet. Something sharp and unpleasant, at any rate. She wished very much that she felt nothing at all.
Jane turned away from him without waving goodbye.
“You’ve cut the poor fellow,” Della murmured. Her parents were chatting with Uncle Bertie by now and paying no attention.
“I haven’t cut him,” Jane protested. What a strange accusation. “We just spent the entire call together.”
“I think he might’ve liked you to lift a hand, even so.”
“I don’t care terribly what he would like.” In spite of her pronouncement, Jane’s cheeks were growing hot. Why should Della’s words make her feel guilty? Eli hadn’t spared much thought for her until now. “Will you come back to our house for some tea? I want to chat about our preparations for Monday.”
“I promised Mrs. Davis that I’d call on her today. Why don’t you join me and we’ll talk on the way?”
They explained their plans to the others and set off through Berkeley Square, for their destination wasn’t far. Jane tugged her cloak tight around her arms; it was still chill on this May morning.
Once they were out of earshot, Della spoke very quickly, her words coming out in a rush. “What happened last night? I couldn’t find you again once I left the library.”
“I spoke to Lady Eleanor and Mrs. Duff, but I didn’t have the chance to invite them to join our card party before Uncle Bertie interrupted me. Did you have any more luck?”
“Notthat,” said Della impatiently. “I meant, what happened with Lieutenant Williams?”
What was that supposed to mean? She asked the question too eagerly, as though she expected the reply to be something scandalous.
“Nothing at all. I didn’t think it was appropriate to be alone with him, and I went back to the party.”
“You didn’t.”
