Had Cecily sent her maid to sniff out gossip, or was she simply making conversation? In any event, Jane kept her mouth clamped firmly shut until her hair was done and she could send Biddy back to her mistress with a message of thanks.
Unfortunately, dinner was not so easy to navigate. To start with, she couldn’t send Eli away if her composure started to slip. And it was impossible to make idle talk of the sort that was expected before they went in to dine. She found him waiting with the others in the drawing room when she came down, and her tongue fused to her jaw at the sight. He’d exchanged his wet clothes for proper evening attire—a white shirt and cravat with a black waist and tailcoat—and his jaw was freshly shaven. Even his hair was perfectly in order, not a strand out of place. Though he’d always worn it short, there was just enough to make gentle, dark waves that begged for the touch of her fingers. There was nothing so unusual about his appearance that it should have affected Jane greatly, and yet she was outmatched by the sight of him. She couldn’t see him dressed up like a perfect gentleman without remembering how ungentlemanly he’d been only a few hours before.
She knew what was underneath all the polish. What was in her too. Something unspeakably exciting and dangerous. If she wasn’t careful, it would break free again.
When they finally went in to dine, it was Eli who escorted her.
“You’re quiet tonight,” he murmured. Even the soft notes of his baritone set her nerves alight. She couldn’t seem to relax her hand atop his forearm. “How are you feeling?”
“Perfectly well.” Her voice came out tight. She said nothing more, but as Eli pulled her chair out for her, a stray finger brushed the back of her arm and drew goosebumps from her skin. She shivered, unable to stop herself.
Jane spent the meal trying to decide where to look, and finally concluded that no place was safe. Not Eli, clearly. She couldn’t even set her eyes upon the lapels of his tailcoat without blushing up to her ears. His coat had been over her shoulders right before she’d seduced him. It had started the whole mess.
Well, notthatcoat, exactly. The frock coat from this morning had been fawn colored, and this was black evening wear. But her humiliation was such that it extended to include all of Eli’s coats as a class.
Nor could she look at any of her family or the Lindens, for they were sure to detect in an instant what she’d done. It must be written plainly on her face for anyone who knew her.
She finally decided that the best course of action was to stare at her plate for the entire meal. Her spring lamb chop with mint sauce seemed unlikely to catch her out.
“We’re so glad you all came,” Mr. Linden said brightly. “It’s been too long since your last visit.”
“You’re quite right,” Bertie agreed with an apologetic smile. “But you know how busy the season gets for Cecily. We might visit again in the fall if you like, once things quiet down.”
While chopping her meat into smaller and smaller portions, Jane alternated between elated highs and agonizing lows.
She was desirable. Adventurous. Eli had wanted her so badly he’d barely been able to contain himself. He’d touched her as if she were precious.
She was foolish. Wanton. She’d thrown herself at a man and left herself vulnerable to rumor or worse. She was so desperate for his regard that she’d debased herself without so much as an invitation.
“How was your picnic?” Miss Linden asked. “Aside from the rain, that is.”
“I’m not satisfied with myself,” Cecily sighed. “I forgot to tell cook to pack horseradish for the beef. It wasn’t the same without it.”
“Nonsense, Lady Kerr,” Eli assured her. “Everything was perfect. And the view was stunning.”
Jane nearly choked on her lamb.
“Yes, I do love that spot,” Miss Linden agreed, oblivious to the fact that Jane was one careless word from suffocation. “Did you know it’s where Henry VIII courted Anne Boleyn?”
“Not the most auspicious place then, is it?” Eli replied with a laugh. “Let’s hope the yew brings better fortune to any other couples who steal an embrace in its shade.”
Though he looked to Cecily and Sir Thomas as if his words were meant for them, he might as well have called Jane out by name. He wasteasingher. In front of everyone!
Never mind that they wouldn’t catch it.Sheknew what was meant.
She still couldn’t bring herself to look across the table and meet Eli’s gaze, lest she find amusement there. She almost tried, but her eyes snagged on the sight of his hands upon his knife and fork. Those hands had clutched at her as if he were a man drowning, and she was the last thing keeping him afloat. They’d twisted the fabric of her gown as if to tear it open. Finally, they’d cupped her rear and pulled her tight against his swelling—
No, she couldn’t even think it. It was too indecent.
“Dear cousin, are you quite all right?” Cecily asked. “Your face has gone as red as a stewed tomato. I hope you’ve not caught a fever.”
“Oh dear,” Uncle Bertie joined in. “It’s being out in the rain that’s done it. I told you you’d catch your death.”
They know.
Or if they didn’t yet, they soon would. She couldn’t possibly hide something of this magnitude. It took all her effort not to look straight at Eli, which would be sure to give her away.
Jane was so horrified, she couldn’t even take offense at the comparison to a tomato.
