Enough of this agony. She’d tried her best. It was time to exit with whatever dignity she could salvage.
“I—I am feeling a bit warm. I think I might be catching a cold.”
“Straight to bed with you,” Uncle Bertie ordered, as she’d known he would. “If you’re to have any chance to get well, you need your rest.”
“I’m very sorry,” she said to their hosts. “It’s a lovely meal.”
“Not at all, my dear girl,” said Mr. Linden. “Please go and rest. We’ll send up some broth for you.”
She rose from her chair and made her escape. It took some effort to walk when she would have run. She only breathed easy again once she made it to the safety of her room, surrounded by the familiar sight of damask wallpaper and the plush feather bed that was always hers when they stayed here.
What had ever possessed her to do such a thoughtless thing?
Jane collapsed onto the bed and buried her face in the pillow. No amount of pleasure could be worth this—the knowledge that she’d ruined herself with a man who was keeping secrets from her, and even worse, who saw her as his second choice.
For that’s what she was: second. Even if she’d felt like she was first for that stolen bit of time in the priory ruins, it had ended, and now reality was back.
He wanted Cecily. He’d only shown an interest in Jane once the prettier cousin was married off.
Ten
Jane and Hannah took breakfast in their room the next morning, then dressed with care for the opening day of the races. Biddy was nowhere to be found, her mistress requiring her full attention for such a public event, so they took turns lacing up each other’s corsets. Much like Jane, Hannah hadn’t brought a maid of her own and had to share with her mother.
“What are you wearing?” Jane asked. “We may as well finish getting dressed.”
Hannah selected a pink taffeta gown with too many flounces to count, and Jane wore an outfit in a thick, red-and-blue-checked serge that was sure never to become transparent, no matter how wet it got. The sky was clear, but she wasn’t taking any chances.
She managed to avoid Eli completely in the general chaos of organizing eleven people for departure, breathing a sigh of relief once the door to the carriage was shut and they rolled away. Now she just had to keep doing this until Friday.
It was scarcely a quarter hour to the heath from the Lindens’ house, though it took a little longer owing to the crowd. Jane andEdmund pulled back the curtains on the carriage to peer at the new stand as they drew near. They approached from the rear, but even at this angle it was an impressive construction.
The grandstand towered over fifty feet in the air: three enormous tiers of white-columned pillars meant to resemble the amphitheaters of ancient Rome. The gentlemen and ladies descending from carriages in their finest clothes looked like ants in its shadow. Once they arrived and stepped inside the grand floor that served as a sort of drawing room for the structure, Jane could appreciate its full size.
It housed ten long rows of ascending benches with windows extending from floor to ceiling from which twelve hundred people were supposed to be able to view the races, as well as a sheltered promenade with refreshments, amusements, and retiring rooms for those more interested in viewing society than horses. The balcony above the grand floor extended the entire length of the building and held at least as many people as the lower level. In front of the building, a space of about fifty feet before the heath was reserved for the makeshift stalls of betting men and others who plied their trades here.
The final effect was a sea of color, noise, and movement.
“Our tickets are for the balcony,” Cecily informed them. “We still have time to explore the promenade before we go up to see the Royal Procession.”
The group splintered apart to take in the sights that pleased them most, and Jane quickly saw her dilemma. Cecily walked on her husband’s arm, Mr. and Mrs. Williams followed suit (with a great deal less enthusiasm), and the Lindens claimed Uncle Bertie. Only Edmund and Eli were left to escort her and Hannah. She tried to grab her brother’s arm first, but it was too late—he had already aligned himself by age over blood.Drat.
Was this how it would be the whole time? The two of them paired together despite her best efforts?
She slid her hand atop Eli’s forearm reluctantly, remembering the last time they’d touched. He looked as handsome as ever this morning. His dark hair was combed back neatly, and he wore a blue shirt with a gold silk cravat knotted around his collar and a brown frockcoat overtop. Not the same one he’d worn at Ankerwycke yesterday.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked as they set out. In her charged mood, it didn’t seem an innocuous question. She hadn’t been able to settle last night, still dwelling on their kiss at the priory.
“Very well,” she lied. “And you?”
“Fine.”
She had goosebumps again. They were barely even touching. How could he exert this sort of effect over her? Her body was a traitor, yearning for pleasures she should know better than to want. If only it hadn’t felt sogood. If Eli had been a clumsy, pawing brute, she could’ve dismissed the incident as a single lapse in judgment. Conversely, if they’d been able to finish what they’d started, Jane might have found some release from the hold he exerted over her.
“Do you think that we might find a way to have a word in private sometime today?” he murmured.
“In private?” Jane echoed. She didn’t dare press her luck. Private meetings could turn into forced proposals at the drop of a hat, as they both knew. “I don’t believe there’s any privacy to be found at Ascot.”
“Back at the house then.”
