Jane didn’t blush. “No, I’m not.”
Lindley’s smile disappeared. “You’re so beautiful, more than before, I think. On the stage tonight, Jane, you took my breath away, I swear it. I had to find you, to at least say hello and find out how you’ve fared.”
“I’m doing well, as you can see,” Jane said. “I have everything I want.” She shrugged, moved gracefully to the sideboard. “A brandy, Jon?”
“Everything?”
Her back was to him. She stiffened. “Everything. I’m on the stage, my dreams have come true.”Liar!her mind screamed.
“I’m glad,” Lindley said softly.
Jane handed him a brandy, taking a small sherry for herself. Lindley’s gaze was warm, unceasing. “So,” Jane asked casually. “Who were your companions tonight? Anyone I know?”
“He wasn’t with me,” Lindley said quietly.
Jane met his gaze, then dropped hers. Her fingers tightened upon the glass she held. She wanted to ask where he was. And mingled with relief was disappointment. She refused to acknowledge it.
“He is at Dragmore,” Lindley stated, watching her.
Jane shrugged indifferently. Yet she found herself thinking an unwelcome thought:How is he?
“How did you find me?” she asked quickly, hating her heart for being a traitor to her mind.
“I followed you.” Lindley’s smile was sheepish. “There were two dozen gentlemen waiting at your dressing-room door, and I knew I had not one chance.” He grinned. “I made a few discreet inquiries, heard about the back exit, saw you and your friend leave. So I followed.”
“Shame,” Jane said, but she smiled.
Lindley studied his snifter, his fingers long, his hands graceful but masculine. “What happened, Jane?”
Jane went tense.
“I’m sorry, I’m intruding. Nick wouldn’t say much. A few days after my sister’s party I went to his town house to make peace, if I could. It was closed up, and I assumed the two of you had left for Dragmore. A month later I was in Sussex and I stopped by there. And you were gone. Nick said you’d gone back to your mother’s friends in London. He wouldn’t say another word on that topic. In fact, I sensed my life might be in danger if I pursued it.”
Jane managed a charming smile; after all, she was an actress. “There wasn’t anything else to say. I was not going to get married, and that was that. This”—she gestured grandly—“is my life.”
His gaze searched hers. It was too probing, too inquisitive, and Jane had too many secrets, so she looked away. When she was certain her secrets were well hidden, she smiled and met his gaze. “I hope you will keep my residence discreet. From everyone.”
Lindley’s stare was direct. “Are you hiding from someone, Jane?”
“Of course not.”
“It’s funny, but I know Nick as well as anyone does, I think. Although that may not be saying much. I find it difficult to believe he would let you return to the theater.”
“We fought like cats and dogs,” Jane said calmly. “And this is the result.”
“Of course.” Then, abruptly, he said, “You’ve changed, Jane. I’m not sure what it is, it’s not your just being older, more mature. I sense something …”
“Of course I’ve changed,” Jane said. “I’m not seventeen, I’m nineteen. I am no longer quite so naive—I understand life.” Too well, she might have added, but she didn’t.
Lindley studied her again, too closely, so she looked away. She felt the bitterness and sadness, and did not want him to see it. “Did you enjoy the performance?”
“Immensely,” he said easily. “You’re a wonderful actress, Jane.”
“Wonderful,” she echoed. Unbidden, she thought of the applause tonight, enthusiastic but not wild. Tomorrow, of course, the critics would laud her performance, and laud her. A great beauty like her mother, they would say. Some had even said she was more beautiful. But will she ever be the great actress that her mother was?
Unbidden, she imagined him in the audience, dark and silent, expressionless, watching her as she soared in her performance.
She shifted uneasily. So many questions clamored in her heart, in her soul. Mostly she wondered how he was, and why.
