‘There is one more potential rumour we have to address,’ said Deveril as he sat up and turned to Jane. ‘I am afraid this concerns you as well, Miss Bennet.’
Since Darcy was on his best behaviour and was proving his cousin’s faith in his character, Deveril had been content to sit back and listen. Now that Miss Bingley had been dealt with, he thought he needed to add his own information to ensure there would not be any misunderstandings to come back and cause problems.
‘Yes, Mr Deveril? Which potential rumour is that?’ Jane asked in concern.
‘I am afraid that I have not been entirely truthful.’ He said with a rueful smile. ‘I never corrected your form of address after Cousin Amelia introduced us. Since my older brother is the Duke of Barrington, the proper form of address for me is Lord James.’
Jane blanched. ‘Your brother is a duke?’ she gasped. She looked at the other gentlemen. ‘You knew.’ It was a statement, not a question.
‘I am afraid so,’ Fitzwilliam confirmed.
‘Why did you not –‘ Jane started to ask, only to be interrupted by Elizabeth.
‘I suppose that in your situation it is difficult to know if someone likes you for yourself or is only interested because of your position,’ she said to Deveril.
‘You are quite correct, Miss Elizabeth.’ He turned to Jane. ‘Please forgive me. I had no intention of embarrassing you. It was simply too tempting to prolong the pleasure of being seen as a person rather than a title.’
While they spoke, Jane took a deep calming breath. As she overcame her initial surprise, she could see Deveril’s point of view. ‘Although I amnot enamoured by your deception, I can sympathise.’ She sighed and added in a murmur, ‘At least you are not the heir, or worse, the duke.’
That statement was greeted with a grimace. ‘Perhaps it would be best if I explained further. My older brother, who is significantly older than myself was born to my father’s first wife, who died when John was about fifteen. My mother, who is actually several years younger than my brother, was my father’s second wife, whom he married when it became clear that my brother had no intention ever to marry and continue the family name, which makes me the heir presumptive.’ He did not add that his brother had never had any interest in women at all.
Deveril shrugged and glanced at everyone in the room. ‘This needs to stay confidential for the moment,’ he said and waited until he had agreement from all, before he explained. ‘The reason I was out of town was because my brother is ill and he wants to put his affairs in order, since the doctors do not expect him to survive for much more than another year… if that.’
He turned to Jane. ‘Chances are that by Christmas next year I will be the Duke of Barrington.’
‘Oh dear,’ was all a stunned Jane could utter.
~T~
While the conversation continued to swirl around her, Jane’s thoughts and emotions turned into a maelstrom. She and Mr Deveril, no… she and Lord James had never really talked about their circumstances. They had spoken about their interests on those few occasions when they had met.
Jane had felt an instant connection to the man. She had felt comfortable in his presence; respected and safe. It had never occurred to her that he was anything other than a gentleman. She had had the impression that he owned a small estate, which suited her perfectly. Having grown up at Longbourn, she knew what was expected of the mistress of an estate… a small estate.
When Deveril had declared his interest in her before his departure, she had been thrilled to accept his attention. But that was before she had learnt about his true station in society. Now she felt as if she had been betrayed.
Mrs Bennet would have been thrilled for her oldest and most beautiful daughter to have captured the interest of a man in Lord James’ position. Mrs Bennet would have thought it to be Jane’s due, after all she could not be so beautiful for nothing, but Jane herself had never wanted to be part of high society. She had hoped to find a man from a similar background as herself with whom she could be happy.
The idea of having to deal with the bon ton scared her witless.
I do not want to be a duchess. I do not know how to be a duchess. I cannot possibly be a duchess. Those thoughts kept circling and repeating in her mind, making her more agitated by the minute.
Suddenly Jane felt as if she could no longer breathe. She jumped up and rushed to the open window, where she leant on the frame, breathing deeply and holding back her tears.
~T~
Deveril had watched the building panic in Jane’s eyes with concern.
He admitted to himself that he had misjudged the situation. He had thought that after the initial surprise, Jane would take the situation in her stride. Perhaps she would be a little embarrassed about calling him Mr Deveril, but he had expected her to quickly overcome that discomfiture and would be able to laugh about it.
She had seemed so comfortable with him and appeared full of confidence when they conversed. Panic was not a reaction he had expected.
Ignoring the others, he rose and carefully approached the lady.
‘Miss Bennet, will you tell me what is troubling you?’ Deveril asked softly, so as not to startle her. At present she seemed as vulnerable and fragile as a day-old chick.
That quiet question had the effect of pulling Jane out of her spiralling panic.
She tried to calm her breathing as she raised her eyes to Deveril’s concerned gaze. ‘I cannot be a duchess,’ she gasped. ‘Forgive me if I seem presumptuous to think that you would offer for me, but the idea fills me with dread.’
