Della’s eyes lit up at this. “Cecily bragged that she’d invited Lady Eleanor Grosvenor tonight; she would make a handsome addition to our club. Or else one of the Countess of Jersey’s daughters.
The eldest is out, isn’t she?” It was tireless work, building the right connections at every event, but it was the only way they could gather the numbers they needed to ensure a steady profit each week. Then she would never need to worry about money again.
Della nodded. “I saw them earlier in the retiring room.”
“Let’s find them directly, before—”
“There you are, my darlings!” Cecily’s girlish voice carried above the buzz of the crowd as she bustled forward with outstretched arms. Jane clapped her jaw shut. She’d made it through half the seasonwithout letting her cousin discover her club, and she wasn’t about to slip up now. “It’s been too, too long.”
It had been ten days.
Everyone always commented on the resemblance between Jane and her cousin. Both had dark hair and pale eyes, though Cecily’s vivid blues drew comparisons to a summer sky that Jane had never inspired. And while both women had wide cheekbones in a heart-shaped face, only Cecily’s might have launched a thousand ships. Jane might manage a tugboat on a good day.
Jane summoned a tardy smile as Cecily planted an excessive amount of kisses on her cheeks, then on Della’s. Jane tried not to squirm under the onslaught.
Sir Thomas Kerr, Cecily’s husband, waited patiently to greet them until her enthusiasm had subsided, a practice he employed often. He was a quiet fellow, content to let his wife talk most of the time, and recently knighted for his service to the empire, which allowed Cecily the satisfaction of being called “Lady Kerr” for the rest of her days. In short, he was everything she could want in a husband.
“Good evening, Cecily. How are you? How’s the baby?” At least he would be kept upstairs tonight. Though Jane liked babies well enough as a rule, Cecily’s son was the exception. It wasn’t that he’d done anything wrong—he couldn’t do much but lie there looking sweet, at his age—it was the degree of fawning his presence commanded from everyone.
“Oh, he’s wonderful. He can nearly crawl!” This seemed an egregious claim, as the child in question was only three months old. Cecily hadn’t wanted a long confinement, eager as she was to enjoy the season. “But never mind that,” she gushed. “You’ll never believe the news I have for you.”
Jane’s heart missed a beat. She tried to feign nonchalance. “Oh, what is it?”
“I’ve had a letter! From Eli Williams!” Cecily flung this information before them with the thrill of a child throwing seeds before sparrows.
Oh Lord.
Della was trying to catch her gaze, but Jane didn’t dare look.
“Really? That seems quite a feat, as he’s dead.”
Cecily was too excited to be put out by Jane’s sharp remark. “He’snot. It was all a mistake. Just listen.”
She immediately produced a piece of parchment from her reticule, so worn from folding that she must have read it a thousand times since its arrival.
Cecily cleared her throat delicately and began. “Dear Sir Thomas Kerr and Lady Kerr, I hope you will not think me too forward in writing to you, but I am recently returned to England after a long absence for reasons outside my control, and I did not wish for you to suffer the unpleasant surprise of hearing the news from another source. Please accept my deepest apologies for any distress that mistaken reports of my death may have caused, and my congratulations on your marriage and the birth of your child. I trust that you will also convey my regards to Lady Kerr’s family. Yours truly, Lieutenant Eleazar Williams.”
Cecily lowered the paper from her eyes to gauge their reactions, though she still gripped it in her fist, lest it be needed again.
Jane couldn’t summon any reply. Sir Thomas still stood silently at one side, unmoved by his wife’s display.
Good God, could Eli truly be alive? Or was the prankster merely committed to his game?
“Goodness.” It was Della who broke the silence, in the brisk voice of someone not quite as surprised as she was supposed to be. “What an incredible turn of events. He must have survived the shipwreck somehow.”
She cast a pointed glance to Jane at this last comment. No one seemed inclined to question the tale. Was she too cynical, or were they all too trusting?
Very well, she would have to be the wet blanket.
“But there’s no mention ofhowhe survived. Nor of where he’s been for two years.”
“I know!” Cecily replied with a sulk. “He doesn’t tell us any of the interesting bits. That’s why I wrote back to invite him here.”
She motioned vaguely to her surroundings, already filled to the brim with guests.
“Do you mean…tonight?” Jane struggled to keep up. Everything was happening so fast. Five minutes ago, she’d still been certain Eli was dead. Now he was expected to join their company this very evening.
How could this be real?
