When they finally finished dessert, the gentlemen went off to smoke. As the ladies filed out of the room, servants began clearing away the table and chairs to convert the large space for dancing.
More guests began arriving after the meal, and Della was among them. She immediately ushered Jane into a space near the window where they might speak privately. The sky outside was already black. “I scarcely got to talk to you at the Lindens’ the other night. Do you have any news to share?”
“I do not.”
Della looked at her as though she’d just kicked a puppy. “Because you can’t tell me now, or because there’s nothing to tell?”
“Both.” After a moment’s consideration, she amended, “What I have to tell is more of the same, at any rate.”
“I still feel as though I haven’t heard the first story properly.”
“We’ll be back at home tomorrow evening. Come by the house and you’ll have it then.” It would be a relief to shut the door to her room and have a heart-to-heart with no fear of eavesdroppers.
Perhaps it was this longing to confide in Della that made her say what she did next. Or perhaps she had a lapse in judgment, for there was certainly no chance that her friend would guide her down the proper path.
“I think I might easily acquire some news to share this very evening, if I wished it.”
Della’s eyes grew bright with hope. “And do you wish it?”
There was only one answer that wouldn’t disappoint. If only things were that simple.
“You know I’m not the sort of woman to put aside consequences and live for the moment.”
“If we’re talking about what I think we are, there are certainly ways to avoid unintended consequences.”
“I’m not sure my knowledge of the practical details extends that far.”
“I have a lovely book I would’ve brought you, if I had any idea we would find ourselves here. I wish you’d given me a little notice.” Della seemed quite put out.
“There was no notice to be had, I’m afraid.” Jane couldn’t believe she was even considering this. Discussing it. Worse, she wasn’t sure that she could possibly make Della understand the nature of her objections when they couldn’t speak openly. “It isn’t only the risk of…of indisposition,” she finished clumsily. “There are social consequences. Emotional ones. It might…change me, I suppose. I’m nervous about that.”
“Perhaps I’m not the one you should turn to for reassurance on that point,” said Della gently. “And if you remain unsatisfied there, you should do what you think right. But I stand by the view that I have always expressed, which is that such adventures are what make life worth living, provided you’re careful about it.”
It always sounded so easy when Della said it. She made it look easy too. With her impulsive nature, “adventures” materialized in her life with alarming frequency, but she always skipped ahead of the consequences, outpacing discovery. It helped that Della’s parents were rarely home and her siblings had a mutual interest in secret-keeping.
Jane didn’t lead such a charmed life. Even if she were lucky enough to avoid detection, could she really throw herself into a love affair with Eli and say goodbye when the time came, unaffected by the loss? But the alternative—to say her goodbyes now without ever knowing what she’d missed—seemed just as bleak.
I never should have kissed him that first time. It’s muddled my judgment ever since.
Jane was still struggling to find a reply for Della when their hosts announced that the dancing was starting.
Sixteen
Supper passed very unpleasantly for Eli. He was seated next to Lady Pearson and across from Mr. Bishop. The result was that he found himself obliged to recount the story of his capture and imprisonment for his hostess at great length, with helpful suggestions from Bishop whenever he seemed to lag.
“Twoyearstrapped with pirates,” Bishop said with a sympathetic look that made Eli shift uncomfortably in his chair. “Can you imagine it?”
Eli could imagine it very well, as one year, eight months trapped with pirates had been close enough to the mark. He wasn’t really lying so much as rounding up. People rounded up all the time. Even so, a hot flush of guilt crept up his neck.
“Were they very barbaric?” Lady Pearson asked. Her eyes carried a certain hint of excitement, as if she hoped Eli’s answer would be the stuff of penny novels.
“Forgive me, Lady Pearson,” Eli replied. “I don’t like to talk about it.”
He had repeated the phrase so many times, it had become automatic. No one ever pushed further afterward. Except for Jane.
He recalled the way she’d looked at him in the nursery yesterday, her blue-gray eyes lit with a steely challenge that hardened her gentle features. Why did she have to ask for what he couldn’t give when he would happily grant her anything else?
“Of course, Lieutenant. I understand completely.” Lady Pearson schooled her features into sympathy, though her tone betrayed some disappointment.
