An Unacceptable Offer Read online

  “Ah, but he has only just arrived,” Prudence said. “And I have first claim on him, Honor, for I was the first to see him.”

  “I daresay the midwife was the person to have that pleasure,” Honor said with a tinkling laugh. “But tell all, Prue, my love. I do believe you are just teasing. And it is a most cruel joke.”

  “He was at Grandmama’s yesterday when Mama and I were visiting,” Prudence said. “Grandmama is his godmother, and he had come to pay his respects the day after his arrival. I declare I fell in love with him the instant he walked through the door. I could do nothing for the remainder of our visit but gawk at him with my mouth hanging open. I still do not believe he can be real. Tall and built like a god. Dark, thick hair that would make any girl’s fingers itch to touch. The most perfect face I have ever set eyes on. Blue eyes—really blue, not gray. And one expressive eyebrow—the left, I think. Anyway, it made me turn quite weak at the knees. And he is here for the rest of the Season!”

  “You must have been imagining things,” Honor said. “I have quite given up hope of meeting such a paragon this year, Prue. You must not raise all our hopes like this unless you are quite sure of your facts.”

  “You will see for yourself soon enough,” Prudence assured her. “Though I shall probably be very sorry when you do. You will doubtless take him right from under my nose, Honor. He is bound to admire you. He is in search of a wife, Grandmama says.”

  “This becomes more and more promising,” Honor said, her parasol twirling wildly above her head.

  “Yes,” Prudence said. “His first wife died a year ago quite tragically while giving birth to their third child. He has two little girls and is badly in need of a mother for them.”

  “A definite obstacle,” Honor said. “I am not over-fond of children, especially some other woman’s. Oh well, we cannot demand perfection of life, I suppose.”

  “I hardly dare breathe,” Alexandra said. “Is he by any chance a titled gentleman from the West Country, Prue?”

  “More south than west, I think,” Prudence told her. “But a viscount, Alex.”

  Alexandra sighed.

  “When are we likely to meet this Adonis, do you think?” Honor asked. “The Pendletons’ ball tomorrow night?”

  “Very probably,” Prudence said. “Lady Pendleton is his aunt.”

  “If he is as handsome as you say, Prue,” Honor said, “he will be easily recognizable. But do tell his name.”

  “Oh,” Prudence said, “how foolish of me. Viscount Fairfax.”

  “Never heard of him,” said Honor.

  “Oh,” Jane blurted, “I have.” She flushed when all eyes turned her way. “He was in London during my first Season. And I assure you that everything Prudence has said is true. He is certainly the most handsome man I have ever seen.”

  “And why did you not attach his interest then?” Honor asked.

  Jane laughed. “Lord Fairfax?” she said. “He did not even know I existed, Honor. He had eyes only for Lady Susan Richardson. She was the most lovely creature. And is she now dead? They had a whirlwind courtship. They were wed before the end of the Season.”

  “He is the impulsive sort, then,” Honor said. “I am beginning to really like what I hear. But were you very in love with him, Jane? Confess.”

  “I doubt if there was a lady below the age of thirty who was not,” Jane admitted. “And I doubt if there was a gentleman below the age of thirty who did not dislike him heartily.”

  “A wager!” Honor said, snapping shut her parasol and regarding her three companions with sparkling eyes. “Let us wager on which of us will have him. We will refuse to accept competition from anyone else, of course. What shall we wager?”

  “Now you are being ridiculous, Honor,” Prudence said gloomily. “You know very well that you will win. There would be no competition at all.”

  “Rubbish!” Honor said kindly. “None of you are antidotes, even Jane with her advanced age.”

  “Not me,” Alexandra said sadly. “I do not believe Mama would accept the South Country.”

  “Jane?”

  Jane laughed. “Of course not, Honor,” she said. “Why would someone like Lord Fairfax even look at a rather plain woman of advanced age, as you put it, when he might have his pick of all the lovely debutantes?”

  “Jane,” her cousin said crossly, “you might as well take to wearing caps. You certainly behave like a dried-out old spinster already.”

  “Besides,” Jane said, “the viscount would not fit my requirements at all. How could one possibly be comfortable with a man like him? I should be in a constant state of anxiety whenever another female was within five miles of him. No, my dear cousin, he is all yours. If you can catch him, that is.”

  “Oh, I have no fear of that,” Honor said, speaking with characteristic lack of modesty.

  She really thought she had carried it off quite well, Jane thought when she was alone in her own room later. She had been so shocked when Prudence mentioned the name of the man she had been describing that she had been unable to stop her reaction.

  She had admitted that she had been in love with Viscount Fairfax five years before, but only in a general way, in the way that any woman might be in love with an extraordinarily handsome man. They had not suspected that her love for him had in many ways ruined her life. That was perhaps a little exaggerated, but maybe not. Had it not been for her painful infatuation with the viscount during that Season, she might well have accepted Mr. Saxton’s offer and been living quite contentedly with him ever since in Oxford, where he had accepted a lecturing position at the university.

  None of that was Lord Fairfax’s fault, she had to admit. He really had not known of her existence. Even without the presence of Lady Susan and his great love for her, he would not have noticed Jane. Even now she was no beauty. But when she was eighteen she had really been very plain. Mama had lived in Yorkshire since her marriage and had little idea about London fashions. Yet she had had all of Jane’s clothes made at home instead of waiting to engage a London modiste. Her clothes had been almost embarrassingly unfashionable. And her hairstyle! She still shuddered at the memory of the masses of ringlets that Mama’s dresser had thought so becoming. She had also been somewhat overweight at the time and the ringlets had only served to accentuate the plump roundness of her face.

  And she had been very eager and hopeful of finding love and of making a good match. Poor young Jane, the older Jane thought now. She had fallen painfully and hopelessly in love with Lord Fairfax. Not that she had ever held out any hope of attracting his notice. She had resigned herself to worshiping from afar. But even so she had cried and cried the night after the announcement of his betrothal appeared in the Gazette.

  After the Season was over, she had been very depressed for several months before giving up forever all the fond hopes of romance she had taken to London with her. Love was not for her. Neither was glamour of any sort. She would consider herself lucky to make a marriage with a very ordinary gentleman. Contentment was what she would aim for. And that surely would not be beyond her grasp if the gentleman she married was amiable. All she asked for was her own home to manage, companionship, a few children. A dull prospect, perhaps, but very practical. Jane soon came to pride herself on her good sense.

  And was that good sense now to be put to the test? She was to see the viscount again, and by Prudence’s report he was as handsome as ever. Would her stomach stay in place when she first saw him? Or would it turn over rather painfully as it had always used to do?

  She would find out the evening of the next day, she supposed, provided he really did put in an appearance at the Pendletons’ ball. But she must not dwell on the thought. She must concentrate on the hope that Mr. Faford would sign her card. He was a gentleman whose interest she might fix if she set her mind to it. She had realized that fact for a few weeks now. He was neither handsome nor wealthy nor particularly young. But he was kindly and he was attainable, she believed.

  Chapter 2
br />   HONOR was surrounded by her customary court of admirers. She looked extremely beautiful, as usual, Jane thought. Despite her comments of the day before on the plainness of all the gentlemen she had met thus far during the Season, she appeared to be enjoying herself immensely. Her cheeks were flushed a becoming shade of pink and her eyes sparkled. She waved a peacock fan before her face. It matched exactly the shade of her slippers and gloves and highlighted the gleaming white of her lace-covered gown. Jane stood on the outer fringes of the group, talking to a young man who had just done her the courtesy of signing her card for a country dance later in the evening.

  Her card was half-filled and Jane was quite content. She had danced the first two sets, although neither had been solicited in advance. Uncle Alfred could be relied upon to lead her out for one set, and Mr. Faford would surely sign her card as soon as he arrived. He was late already. And if she had to sit out a few dances, it would not be the end of the world. Only the newest debutantes considered such an eventuality a disaster. She would merely sit with her aunt or find another acquaintance with whom to converse for half an hour.

  Jane smiled to herself. Honor had confided to her before the opening set her chagrin at finding that she had not one space left on her card.

  “What if I find that there is someone else with whom I particularly wish to dance?” she asked. “And what if Viscount Fairfax makes an appearance and turns out to be as handsome as you and Prue say? I shall burst with frustration, Jane.”

  Jane laughed. “You must be the only female present tonight to complain of a full card, Honor,” she said. “If I were you, I should be preparing to enjoy my triumph.”

  Honor pulled a face. "But just look at these names!” she said, opening her card so that Jane could see the signatures scrawled next to the various sets. “There is not one handsome face among them. Not one!”

  “These poor gentlemen,” Jane commented, her eyes moving over the card. “You must be very demanding, Honor. There are some very distinguished names here.”

  “Hm. ‘Distinguished’ is a word one uses when it would be a lie to say ‘handsome,’ ” Honor replied. “Oh Lord, here comes Perry. At least I am thankful to be able to tell him truthfully that I may not dance with him. I swear, Jane, the poor boy has two left feet.”

  The next set was about to form. Jane could see her uncle moving purposefully along the edge of the ballroom floor in their direction. Dear Uncle Alfred, she thought, come to make sure that she would not have to spend too many sets standing on the sidelines. She knew that he would far prefer to be playing cards. She smiled.

  And then beyond her uncle’s advancing figure she saw him. Viscount Fairfax. He had just entered the ballroom and was standing in the doorway, his fingers toying with a quizzing glass. Oh, he had not changed. If anything, he was even more handsome now. The extra years had added muscularity to his slender physique. His hair was longer than he had used to wear it. And he looked quite breathtakingly magnificent in black tight-fitting evening coat and knee breeches, masses of sparkling white lace at his neck and wrists. Even as she returned her attention to her uncle, Jane felt it. Quite unmistakably. That old churning of the stomach.

  She put her hand in her uncle’s and allowed him to lead her into a set that still needed one couple. Lady Pendleton had left the receiving line and was about to start the dancing, but she had hurried over to greet her nephew, Jane saw in one swift glance. He was still standing just inside the doorway. There was another gentleman with him, shorter, slightly stockier, his looks quite overshadowed by those of his companion.

  Jane looked around for Honor. Her cousin was part of another set. She was talking animatedly to her partner and the couple beyond them. But she had seen him, Jane felt sure. There was an extra sparkle and self-consciousness to her behavior. She would be even more furious now that there were no dances to spare on her card. Poor Honor! Jane turned her attention to the music, which was beginning.

  It was even more obvious at the end of the set that Honor had seen the viscount. She had her partner leave her in a part of the ballroom far removed from the spot where her mother sat conversing with a group of dowagers, and she was waving vigorously for her father to bring Jane to her. Jane saw as they approached that Lord Fairfax and his companion were quite close by, talking with their hostess.

  “Jane!” Honor hissed, fanning herself so fast that her cousin could feel the breeze from where she stood. “Why did you not tell me? He is not just handsome. He is ... handsome! I just have to dance with him. Max or Ambie will not mind releasing me from my obligation. You must partner one of them instead. You will not mind, will you?” She regarded Jane with wide, anxious eyes. “Dear Jane!”

  Jane could not help smiling. “Really, Honor,” she said, “you could not possibly be so rag-mannered. It just is not done to pass on your rejected partners to someone else. Or even simply to reject them, for that matter.”

  “Oh, but Max or Ambie will not mind,” Honor insisted. “They are just like my brothers.”

  “I would guess that those two young gentlemen do not think of themselves in any such way.” Jane said. “Besides, Honor, there are hosts of lovely girls here. How can you be sure that Lord Fairfax will even ask you?”

  “But of course he will!” Honor said ingenuously. “He has already noticed me, you know. I swear his eyes were on me for fully half of the last set. Oh, bother, Harry has spotted me and is on his way to claim his dance.” She turned a dazzling smile on the tall, thin young man who was approaching.

  Jane did not have a partner for that particular set, a quadrille. She looked around to see if any of her acquaintances was close by, saw that none was, and turned to make her way around the room to her aunt. However, Lord Pendleton blocked her way.

  “Not dancing, Miss Matthews?” he asked. “I would lead you out m’self, my dear, if it weren’t for this confounded gout. May I fetch you some lemonade?”

  “No, really, my lord,” Jane said. “I am not thirsty.”

  Lord Pendleton was in no hurry to move away. He stood and chatted amiably to Jane, watching the dancers as he did so. Jane too looked about her. The viscount, she could see, was dancing with Lady Pendleton, his companion with someone Jane did not know. Honor was sparkling, and dazzling the faithful Harry.

  When the music drew to a close, Lady Pendleton joined her husband. She was on the arm of the viscount.

  “Ah, Pendleton,” she said in the rather masculine tones that characterized her, “there you are. You see, Michael did decide to put in an appearance after all. The scold I gave him two days ago had its effect.”

  The two men shook hands. “Glad you came, Michael,” Lord Pendleton said. “And Sedgeworth too, I hope? Hazel would have been disappointed if you had not come. Not every woman can boast such a fine nephew, you know.”

  Jane felt decidedly awkward. She did not know whether she should stay beside Lord Pendleton or turn away and look elsewhere. Perhaps she should even move unobtrusively away. She took a step back and glanced toward the empty dance floor. Honor was crossing it, smiling dazzlingly at her cousin.

  “Why, Jane, you naughty thing,” she called teasingly as she approached nearer. “I have looked all over the place for you and only now saw that you were with Lord Pendleton.” She smiled at the latter and fluttered her fan.

  “My manners have certainly gone begging,” his lordship said, turning to Jane and taking her by the elbow. “I suppose you have not met my wife’s nephew, my dear, since he has only recently arrived in London and has not been here for several years. May I present Michael Templeton, Viscount Fairfax? Miss Matthews is from the North, Michael. Niece of Jamieson. And Miss Jamieson is his daughter. She has been taking the ton quite by storm this year.” He smiled kindly at a blushing Honor.

  Lord Fairfax bowed. His eyes met Jane’s briefly. They regarded her steadily and unsmilingly. She curtsied and muttered, “My lord.” But he had already turned to Honor, who was glowing with blushes and smiles and who must have been raisin
g a veritable gale with her fan.

  “I am so pleased to meet you, my lord,” she said. “You have chosen a splendid occasion on which to make your first appearance in public. I declare this is the greatest squeeze of the Season so far.”

  He inclined his head. “My aunt’s ball always was one of the grandest affairs of the year, Miss Jamieson,” he said. He did not smile, Jane noticed.

  “The next dance is to be a waltz,” Honor said, turning to Lady Pendleton and smiling brightly. “I am so glad you included several this evening, ma’am. It is such a divine dance.”

  “I have been told that no ball is fashionable if it is not included,” Lady Pendleton said with a smile. “I do hope you have been granted permission to dance it, my dear.”

  “Oh yes,” Honor assured her breathlessly. “Lady Jersey was gracious enough to give me her approval almost two weeks ago.”

  “You are fortunate,” her hostess said. “Some young ladies have to go through their entire first Season without the chance to practice the steps they have learned so diligently at home.”

  “Miss Matthews,” the quiet, low voice of Viscount Fairfax said, “would you honor me with your hand for this set? If you have no previous commitment, that is.”

  Foolishly Jane glanced at Honor, almost as if she were about to ask her permission. That young lady’s fan had ceased its motion and her mouth gaped a little. But only for a moment. She smiled brightly as Jane turned to the viscount.

  “Thank you, my lord,” she said. “I am free for this set.”

  He held out a hand to her, and she placed her own on top of it.

  “You are a lucky chap, Michael,” Lord Pendleton said with a wink. “This is the supper dance.”

  Jane felt as if she were in the middle of a dream. The hand beneath her own was slim yet quite firm. She was actually touching him. Lord Fairfax! He stopped when they had walked a few feet onto the dance floor. The music was beginning already. She turned to face him and found that she had to tilt her head back to look into his face. Her head reached only to his chin. She placed her left hand on one of his broad shoulders and the other in his outstretched hand. His right hand came to rest firmly behind her waist. She concentrated on following his lead as he began to dance.