He looked much younger when he was excited. But he was nearly a man, heading off to Oxford in the fall. While Jane would be…where, exactly? She’d been so distracted the past few days, she’d neglected her efforts to recruit more ladies to her club.
This was the biggest night of Ascot. She should focus on whatwas attainable: improving their connections in fashionable circles until their club was well established. Building a name for themselves.
No matter how thrilling this little dalliance with Eli might be, it couldn’t last. He would sail to the ends of the world soon, and she would be left behind.
The only person she could count on was herself.
Jane pushed away her regret and tried to focus on the task at hand. She dressed in her most flattering gown, a violet and silver damask with a wide V-neckline that exposed her shoulders and significant decolletage. Biddy styled her hair better than she could have on her own.
When she came downstairs, Uncle Bertie approved of the results. “I’ve always said purple is your color.”
Though she told herself it shouldn’t matter, it was Eli’s reaction that pleased her the most.
“You look lovely, Hannah. And you, Miss Bishop.” He addressed them in a measured tone, without any trace of impropriety. But his eyes clung to every inch of exposed skin, and he swallowed hard as he looked at her. As if he would have liked nothing more than to devour her on the spot.
That, more than any trinket or ribbon she might decorate herself with tonight, made her feel beautiful.
After the carriage ride over to the Pearsons’ house, Eli managed to position himself to be the one to lead her in.
“I can’t stop staring at you,” he murmured.
“You must. I don’t want talk.”
“I’m trying, but it’s quite beyond my control. That gown seems meant for me to run my mouth over you from neck to shoulder.”
Jane shivered, her skin rising to goosebumps as if he had already kissed her flesh. It didn’t help matters that he brushed the nape of her neck as he took her cloak to give to a footman.
As they walked into the parlor together to join the other guests before the meal, Eli used the opportunity to whisper, “You know, there’s no one at the Lindens’ house.”
“Of course. We’re all here,” she said hesitantly. This conversation couldn’t be leading where she thought it was.
Then it did.
“If we were to slip away early, we’d have the place to ourselves.” Jane tripped on the hem of her own gown and stumbled. “Careful, Miss Bishop,” Eli said as he righted her. Then, more softly, “Just think on it. If your night grows dull, I’m sure I can provide you with another sort of entertainment.”
They entered the parlor. Other guests rose to their feet to greet her, and Eli was gone from her side, passing through the crowd to shake hands and exchange a word with friends.
But what he’d said stayed with her.
At supper, Jane was seated at the opposite end of the table from the Williamses. By some stroke of chance (or possibly a word from Uncle Bertie) Mr. MacPherson was to her left.
“I’m so glad to see you tonight, Miss Bishop,” said MacPherson. “I suppose I have Lady Kerr to thank for including this supper in your busy schedule.” He smiled, displaying a piece of spinach stuck between his teeth.
It wasn’t fair to compare him to Eli. Really, it wasn’t. Most men wouldn’t come out well by that standard. There was nothingwrongwith MacPherson. He had average, bland looks, good manners, and an income of two hundred a year. He was, in every respect, a modest catch. But then, so was she. They suited that way.
“It’s a good thing I did,” Cecily put in. “I think my father andcousins would be content to stay in every night if I didn’t give them a little push from time to time.”
“It’s not really staying in when we’re visiting friends,” Jane protested. But no, she shouldn’t get drawn into an argument with Cecily now. She should say something gay. She’d grown so used to saying exactly what she thought with Eli these past few days, she’d forgotten to mask her opinions with a polite veneer. “In any event, I’m happy we’re here. I’m sure it will be a lovely evening.”
And if it isn’t, you can always find out what entertainment Eli has planned.
She shouldn’t be thinking about that. It was the most indecent suggestion she’d ever heard. What, did he expect that she would just agree to be carried off to his bed for the rest of the evening? She wasn’t that sort of lady. It was insulting, really.
But she couldn’t quite find the determination to stay insulted. Her imagination was painting a rather heated portrait of what the evening could be, if she so chose.
Mr. MacPherson was still talking to her, though she’d missed a segment of the conversation while indulging in lurid fantasy. “…Always impressed by the showing on Ladies’ Day. You look lovely this evening, by the way.”
He was flirting with her. She couldn’t seem to make herself reciprocate as she normally did. She’d always viewed the task as an obligation to Uncle Bertie, but it feltwrongnow. She would never marry MacPherson, nor any of the other uninspiring prospects that stumbled across her path at these parties. Why pretend? Cecily had already spilled her secret. Perhaps it was time she gathered her courage and told her uncle of her plans.
