An Unacceptable Offer Page 9

  These thoughts did not occur consciously to Jane’s mind as she walked with Viscount Fairfax at the theater. But the sudden realization that she had made herself into an abject, poor creature did strike her quite consciously. Although perhaps Fairfax did not mean his words in quite the way they sounded, although perhaps he was nervous and not projecting a true image of himself, his urging that she give him her answer had made Jane very angry indeed. She had not wanted to give him a reason for her refusal. Indeed, she could hardly frame a reason in words even to herself. But he had pressed her, and she had become even more angry.

  She had had no time to think out her words in advance, but she had found once she started that words came pouring out of her. And she had tried to convey to him her anger in being thought of by labels. She was needed as a wife, a mother, a housekeeper. She was not needed as Jane. She was not a wife, a mother, or a housekeeper. And she would never be primarily one of those things even if she did eventually marry. Primarily and always she was Jane, a unique and very real person. She could never marry anyone who would not recognize that. She would not allow herself to be treated as a commodity. Even if she loved Lord Fairfax fifty times more than she did—impossible!—she could never marry him unless he could look at her and see Jane and assure her that it was Jane he wanted, not any other woman in the world. Just Jane.

  She had been very proud of herself for the rest of the evening, proud of the fact that her sense of worth had overcome her awe at being addressed by Viscount Fairfax. She did love him. She knew that she would live to regret never seeing him again. She knew she would suffer from a sense of emptiness, knowing that she could have married him and lived her life with him. But for that evening she was proud. She had watched the second half of the play attentively, her cheeks hot, her eyes intense. And afterward, she would not have been able to recall one action or one word that had taken place on the stage.

  Her aunt and uncle had unexpectedly decided to invite their guests back to their house for supper. When Mr. Leighton had been forced to decline because of a previous engagement and it was seen that Mr. Sedgeworth was alone in his box, Uncle Alfred had walked over there himself and invited him to supper. Jane had thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the evening. She was glad they had company. She was not yet ready to be alone with her own thoughts.

  She had agreed to partner Mr. Sedgeworth at cards. And she had enjoyed his company. She thought now that she might even have flirted with him a little. He was so thoroughly friendly and so completely unthreatening. He was a man she could like and respect and yet one for whom she felt not one ounce of physical attraction. She could relax in his company. That was what she would concentrate on for the rest of her life: building friendships with men—and women—whom she could like. Life did not have to be dull even for a spinster.

  That had been the night before. Now, after a few hours of sleep, the future did not seem quite so bright. Would she see Fairfax again? she wondered. She supposed it was inevitable that they would be in the same room occasionally and glimpse each other from a distance. But surely he would be anxious now to avoid her. As she would be to avoid him. And once the Season was over, she would never see him again. Never. It was an awfully long time.

  She could not feel sorry for her decision. She still thought as she had the night before. In many ways she felt like a new person. No longer would she undervalue herself. She looked back with some horror now to the attitude with which she had come to London. Almost any man would do as a husband, she had said, provided he was amiable and had no obvious vice. And she had convinced herself that it was common sense that had led her to that decision. It was not common sense. It was a conviction that she could expect very little of life.

  Never again would she take that attitude. She was in fact very satisfied with herself as a person. She had developed her talents and her mind as far as she was able as a female in a male-dominated society. If she compared herself to Honor, she would have to say, even if it seemed immodest to do so, that she was inferior only in beauty. Honor was not unintelligent and she was not without accomplishments. But Honor was ashamed of both. She felt they took away from her femininity and so she lived a lie. She subjected everything that made her an interesting and a unique person to the all-important need to find herself a husband. And what was the criterion by which she judged a man suitable as a husband? His looks merely. Jane did not believe Honor loved Lord Fairfax. She doubted if the girl knew him even to the limited extent that she, Jane, did. But he was a handsome man and so Honor pursued him.

  Jane looked unseeingly out the window. The rest of the Season suddenly seemed quite unenticing. She longed to go home. At this moment she would give a great deal to be able to put on a bonnet and set out on a long walk across the moors, nothing to come between her and her thoughts except nature at its wildest and bleakest. She did not want to have to continue going to balls, routs, soirees, and everything else that various members of the ton had devised for the mutual pleasure of all.

  She did not want to see him again.

  She ached with pain and emptiness at the thought that she might never see him again. And that her exile from him was of her own doing.

  For the following week and a half Jane and Honor saw almost nothing of Viscount Fairfax. He raised his hat to them and nodded one morning from the opposite side of the street when they were out shopping. Honor reported that he had stopped his horse to talk to her for a few minutes in the park one afternoon when she was driving with one of her admirers. But he had not stopped for long. He was on his way somewhere, not just out for the social exercise.

  Honor was disturbed for a few days by his absence from their drawing room and every entertainment they attended. Then she shrugged the matter off. “It is true that he is easily the handsomest man in town,” she said to Jane, “but if he chooses to be moody, I shall have nothing to do with him. It is not as if he ignores just me, Jane. We have been where everyone else of any consequence has been for the last few days, and he has not been in sight. So it seems he shuns everyone. I shall not worry my head over him any longer.”

  The presence in London of the Earl of Henley helped lessen her disappointment. He was recently returned from Vienna and was much in demand by people who wanted firsthand news of what was happening at the Congress there. The earl was in his forties and no match in either looks or physique for Viscount Fairfax. But he was distinguished-looking and wealthy. And he was popular with the ton. He was an earl. Two facts endeared him more than any others to Honor, though. He had a reputation as something of a rake. And he very openly singled her out for his gallantries from the moment of his arrival.

  “I have not at all decided if I shall have him,” she confided to Jane one morning while they were enjoying a quiet stroll in the park. “He is a little older than I would wish my husband to be. Just imagine, Jane. By the time I am thirty, he will be close to sixty! However, he is much more distinguished than Max or Harry or even Percy. And the idea of being a countess is quite appealing.”

  Jane offered no opinion. She considered it likely that if the Earl of Henley had made it into his forties without succumbing to the charms of any female or her mama, he would continue to do so. However, if his attentions would keep Honor’s mind off Fairfax, Jane would be thankful. She did not wish to be forever listening to her cousin talk about him. She did not even wish to think about him.

  They did not see the viscount, but Mr. Sedgeworth continued to be much in evidence. He called twice at the house during the next week and a half and took Jane driving on one of those occasions. He appeared at almost every social function they attended and always spent some time with Sir Alfred Jamieson’s party. He danced with both Jane and Honor at Almack’s. He led Jane in to dinner one evening and sat beside her. Later he turned pages for Honor while she played the spinet, and fetched her tea when she was finished. He sat beside Jane at a musical evening and between items described to her some of the concerts he had attended in Italy and Germany.

  Bo
th ladies grew to like him.

  “He certainly proves that one does not have to be extraordinarily handsome to be amiable,” Honor said. “And indeed he is quite handsome when one looks closely. He is not very tall, of course, and his hair is no decided color, just light brown. But he has a very pleasing face. His eyes and his mouth seem always to be close to smiling. I think he would do very well for you, Jane. Much better than that dreadfully dull Mr. Faford, who does not bother you any longer, thank heaven. I was very afraid you might marry him. And I believe Mr. Sedgeworth likes you.”

  “The same might certainly be said for you, Honor,” Jane pointed out. “Whenever he dances with me, he dances with you too.”

  “Yes,” Honor agreed, “but he does not spend a great deal of time conversing with me, Jane. I think he is one of the few gentlemen who like to talk to an intelligent woman. And I, of course, am the merest ninny-hammer.”

  “If he believes so, the fault is no one’s but yours,” Jane said. “No one who does not know you closely would guess that there is a brain somewhere beneath all that dark hair.”

  Honor laughed. “You must not give away my secret, Jane,” she said. “I would lose my following instantly if anyone suspected.”

  “As far as I can see,” Jane said, “you seem to despise the bulk of that following anyway, Honor.”

  The girl laughed again. “But it is irresistible to be the most sought-after debutante of the Season,” she said. “Besides, Henley would likely not have given me a second glance had there not been a whole host of lovelorn males around me when he first set eyes on me.”

  Jane welcomed her growing friendship with Mr. Sedgeworth, especially when it became clear that being with him was not bringing her into contact with Fairfax. He referred to his friend only once, and that was during their drive in the park.

  “I am worried about Fairfax,” he said. “He positively refuses to go anywhere where he is likely to meet ladies. That limits his activities almost entirely to visits to his clubs. I had great hopes of bringing him out of the gloom he has been in since the death of his wife. But he is being attacked by homesickness. I suppose it is not easy to get over the death of a wife one has loved. However, Miss Matthews, I must not bore you with my own worries.”

  Jane had made no comment and the topic had been changed. She found Mr. Sedgeworth very easy to talk to and very interesting. When he realized that stories of his travels did not bore her, he told her a great deal about various countries.

  “It must be wonderful to be free to travel wherever you wish,” she said with something of a sigh one day.

  “Yes, it is,” he said. “I hope the political situation has settled down by the autumn. With Boney escaped from Elba and things looking as if they are shaping up to a showdown any day, the matter is by no means certain.” He looked at her suddenly. “But that is not what you meant, is it? You meant that because I am a man, I have the freedom to come and go as I wish.”

  She smiled. “It is very restricting to be a woman,” she said.

  “I confess I had not given the matter much thought before,” he admitted. “I suppose I have always thought that females desired no more than husbands, homes, and families. But you have avoided such a fate so far, Miss Matthews. Do you feel very restricted by the conventions?”

  “Sometimes,” she said. “But I was not asking for your pity, sir. I had not thought a great deal about travel until I heard you talking of different places. I daresay that in reality I would grow very tired of the constant traveling and staying at inns.”

  She could relax with him. She began to think of him fondly as a real friend and looked forward to their meetings with pleasure. Jane did not have a close friend in London apart from Honor, with whom she did not see eye to eye on several issues. She came to smile a great deal when she was with Mr. Sedgeworth. She was able to keep the pain of not seeing Fairfax at bay except perhaps at night, when she frequently tossed and turned, unable to get to sleep.

  She hesitated somewhat when Mr. Sedgeworth invited her to join a party to Vauxhall Gardens one evening. She was terrified that Viscount Fairfax might also be of the party. But it seemed unlikely. He had been to no social functions in over a week. When Mr. Sedgeworth explained that the hosts were his sister and brother-in-law and that they had invited several of their friends, she considered it safe to agree. She wanted to go. She had been to Vauxhall once with her parents and had thought it an enchanted place. She had been unhappy there, having no one for company but her parents, while scores of friends and lovers enjoyed themselves dancing or walking along the lantern-lit paths or laughing over the fireworks displays. She wanted to go back now with a friend and in company with his relatives and their friends.

  She did wonder, though, when she knew who the hosts were, whether Honor was not perhaps right in her guess. Was Mr. Sedgeworth developing an attachment to her? He certainly did not behave like a lover. She thought of him merely as a friend. Yet he was willing to escort her to a party hosted by his sister. She was not sure how she would react if he really did have a regard for her.

  Her apprehension was put to rest, though, when a short while later he asked Honor too to join the Vauxhall party. Jane even smiled, in fact. Why had she assumed that she had been invited as his exclusive partner? She must be developing some vanity after receiving two offers in the past few weeks. It was a relief to know that Honor would be there too.

  They were to dine at Lord and Lady Dart’s house on Curzon Street before leaving for Vauxhall. Jane and Honor were to travel there together in Sir Alfred Jamieson’s carriage. Honor was not vastly excited.

  “How do we know who will be of this party, Jane?” she asked. “We scarcely know the Darts. Certainly I do not know who their friends are. Probably all older married couples. And you and I are to share Mr. Sedgeworth. I could think of better things to do. He probably invited me only because it might have appeared ill-mannered not to. But I shall find it humiliating to have only half a man in attendance for a whole evening. And at Vauxhall too. I have been longing all Season to go there. And the first time it happens, we are to be part of a middle-aged party.”

  Jane laughed. “Lady Dart is probably no older than I am, Honor,” she said. “Certainly she is younger than her brother. And he cannot be thirty yet. Besides, it is unlikely that she would have arranged a party of uneven numbers.”

  “You have what?” Fairfax was immediately alert.

  “I have taken matters into my own hands, Fairfax,” his friend said. “For some reason you have quarreled with the chit, and you have been in a black mood ever since. I am making a last effort to get you two together again.”

  Fairfax sighed. “Well, you can spend the evening entertaining her yourself, Sedge,” he said. “I have already told you I am not interested.”

  “I can’t,” his friend said smugly. “I shall be escorting Miss Matthews, and I do not believe I am willing to exchange ladies. I find Miss Matthews far more interesting. No, you can have the beauty, Fairfax.”

  That was when Fairfax had become furiously angry. But what could he say? Sedgeworth knew nothing of his offer to Miss Matthews. And why should he be angry, anyway, and why so reluctant to see the woman again? He had merely been trying to make a marriage of convenience and had been rejected. What was so embarrassing about that? What had plunged him into such low spirits for almost two weeks? Women of Miss Matthews’ caliber were easy to come by. Why did he dread having to face her? Why had he gone straight home after seeing her on the street that morning and not gone out again for the rest of the day?

  Sedgeworth’s manner became more serious. “It is just one evening, Fairfax,” he said. “At least give the little chit one more chance. If you find that you cannot patch up the quarrel, there is no harm done. You are going home next week. If you do decide that you wish to pursue her again, then why not make her one of your house party? You have already invited Joy and Wallace and the children. Why not Miss Jamieson as well? You would be able to see her in your home sett
ing before making an offer. And she would be well-chaperoned.”

  Fairfax gave him a speaking glance.

  “It was just a thought,” Sedgeworth said lamely.

  Fairfax found it a great ordeal to wait in the Darts’ drawing room knowing that she would arrive soon. It took all his presence of mind to stand with apparent unconcern across the room when she made her entrance with Miss Jamieson and found him with her eyes almost immediately. He bowed in their direction and was strangely pleased to witness her confusion. But why should he care? Why feel the same confusion himself?

  She was just Miss Jane Matthews, a mildly pretty woman past the first bloom of her girlhood. He fixed his eyes on the approaching figure of a smiling Miss Jamieson, looking quite as dazzling as ever. He prepared to be sociable.

  Chapter 8

  THEY entered Vauxhall Gardens by the river. They had gone by carriage when Jane went there with her parents. This approach was far more enthralling, the lights strung from the trees reflected in the ripples of the water, the music seeming to float out toward them. If only she could relax and ignore the presence of Viscount Fairfax.

  Mr.Sedgeworth had led her in to dinner. Fortunately Fairfax held back until they were already seated and then took Honor to a place at the opposite end of the table. It was not a great deal of consolation. There were only ten at table and the conversation was frequently general. Fortunately Honor was in high spirits and focused most of the attention on herself.