‘Am I to assume you did not want anyone to see it?’ The sketch amused him, but he knew what outrage it would cause if any of the other guests were to see it, especially those strutting roosters. He doubted the barking mamas would see much humour in it either.
‘You can assume whatever you like, but may I please have my sketch?’
‘It’s rather good.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, not sounding the slightest bit pleased with the compliment and not lowering her hand.
‘In a few strokes of the pen you’ve captured everyone perfectly.’ He continued to stare in admiration at the drawing, then looked up at her. ‘I assume the peacock is me.’
She said nothing, just continued to stand there, her demanding hand not moving.
‘It’s better than many of the political cartoons in the newspapers. PerhapsPunchshould employ you as a satirist.’
‘In case you haven’t noticed, I am a woman. Women are not employed in such jobs.’
He had indeed noticed she was a woman, a rather intriguing one, but thought it wisest not to mention that.
‘But why did you depict yourself as a wallflower?’ he said instead.
Her eyes grew wide, as if to say,Is that not obvious?
Perhaps it was. She quite clearly did not understand the behaviour expected of a debutante. But she was not unattractive and would be rather pretty if she stopped frowning. As discreetly as possible he flicked a quick glance up and down. There was nothing about her feminine curves that would put a man off, all in the right places and in perfectly acceptable proportions.
If this young lady was a wallflower, it was due to her appalling attitude and as it was her own fault he would not feel sorry for her.
‘My sketch,’ she repeated in that stern voice.
‘So, this is how you see the weekend party, is it?’ He looked back down at the picture he was reluctant to surrender. ‘I take it such social events are not something you enjoy.’
She huffed out an exasperated sigh, either at the question or his refusal to do as he was told, but at least she lowered her hand.
‘Presumably, that’s why you’ve drawn yourself heading for that open window.’ He gave a snort of laughter. ‘And I assume the goose is your mama, who is trying to stop your escape.’
He looked at her and waited for an answer. She said nothing.
‘I know exactly how you feel,’ he said.
‘I very much doubt that.’
‘Believe me, it’s not much fun being a peacock and having all those fawns, well, fawning over you, or being corralled by those determined sheepdogs.’
This weekend party was certainly not what he’d expected when he’d fled the brewing scandal in London. He’d hoped for a few quiet weeks, alone in the countryside with his old schoolfriend, a visit to the local village being the most sociable activity in which they would be likely to partake.
He’d forgotten that Henry had decided the age of thirty was time to settle down, and this Season he would begin his search for a wife. Hence the weekend party, and hence Jacob having to flee to this morning room, away from the relentless pursuit of debutantes.
‘My heart goes out to you,’ she said, her words dripping with sarcasm. He’d never encountered such audacity in any woman he’d ever met. Whether that was a good or bad thing he couldn’t say, but she was certainly entertaining. ‘And if you’ll excuse me for saying so, Your Grace, you can leave any time you please. Whereas I…’ She pointed one finger towards the desperate wallflower trying to escape through an open window that was out of her reach.
While he noted her deference in asking him to excuse her, he suspected that, no matter how he had reacted, she would have spoken her mind anyway.
‘Well, under normal circumstances I might be able to escape whenever I chose, but for the time being I’m rather stuck out here in the countryside.’
Those dark, knitted eyebrows rose slightly and she nodded slowly. ‘Yes, I heard a rumour about your reason for being here. Something about a married woman and an irate husband.’
Jacob’s mouth actually fell open at the extent of the woman’s candour. Such things were never discussed openly in polite society, especially not by women, and absolutely never by a debutante wanting to make a good impression. Young women were expected to appear completely innocent of the ways of the world and, in particular, ignorant of anything that men might get up to.
He closed his mouth and made a quick attempt to regain his equilibrium. ‘Yes, it was something like that, and I take it that you do not approve.’
‘It is hardly my concern,’ she said in a decidedly disapproving voice.
