our chances."
Her niece nodded reluctantly, then smiled. It was a warm smile that made Jane’s ice-green eyes look like springtime.
Lady Elsbeth wished it were always spring and summer for Jane. That would be her campaign.
"Speaking of dinner, I had best turn myself over to Mrs. O'Rourke, or she will be prophesying a late appearance on my account!"
Lady Elsbeth looked down at the ornate gold worked watch pinned to her bodice. "Oh dear me, yes. I hadn’t realized time had grown so short! I had better move smartly if I wish to be ready before our guests." Grabbing her skirts, she lifted them slightly to hurry down the long hall.
Her hand on the latch to her own room, Jane watched her aunt, a loving smile softening her features. Too often Lady Elsbeth adopted matronly airs. It was good to see she could at times give way to youthful impetuousness.
Millicent Hedgeworth had never been given to early, or even timely appearances. She was a woman who loved making grand, late entrances in order to garner attention. It was with surprise then, that Jane found her dressed and seated (or rather, ornamentally draped) upon a settee in the parlor. The twilight sun streaming in the floor-to-ceiling window caught red-gold highlights in her brunette hair, creating a halo around her head. Her face was in soft, flattering shadow. She was dressed in a rose silk gown trimmed with pearls, lace, and knots of pale pink and moss-green ribbons. The low décolletage revealed more than it covered of her creamy white breasts. A patterned silk shawl of black, green, and rose was draped negligently on one shoulder, but fell in a pool of shimmering color across her other arm. It was a pose to send a painter into raptures. Not being a painter, Jane was more amused than moved.
It occurred to her that in some ways she and her cousin were really alike, for she also dressed for effect. After nodding to Millicent, Jane took a seat near the fireplace in a straight-backed Elizabethan chair of massive, regal proportions. It was a chair to match her regal, aloof manner. Her gown was similarly chosen. It was of deep forest-green with only the glint of silver embroidery relieving its austere design. In her more shadowed portion of the room, Jane appeared remote and inviolate.
The silence stretched between the women. Jane sat relaxed, a wax statue of a queen on her throne. Millicent’s pose grew cramped, and she began to fidget.
"So, cousin, how many are we to expect to your country entertainments?" Millicent asked, running the fringe of her shawl through her fingers.
"The table was set for eighteen. Besides your party and Lady Elsbeth and myself, we expect the Culpeppers, the Ponsbys, Reverend Chitterdean—Mrs. Chitterdean is laid low with a cold she caught from their maid—and I believe Lord Royce and his guest. At least they have not written their regrets, and I doubt Lord Royce to be a man to overlook his manners in that way."
Millicent chuckled deep in her throat. "La, cousin, but you are naive. The Earl of Royce is not a man to worry about social niceties!"
Jane smiled faintly. "Perhaps."
Millicent frowned at Jane’s complacency but was forestalled in questioning her further by the arrival of Lady Elsbeth and Lady Serena on the arms of a broadly smiling Mr. Raymond Burry.
Mr. Burry stopped on the threshold, his smile turning smug. "I see I am a fortunate man to be the only gentleman available to entertain four lovelies." He inhaled deeply, his waistcoat straining at its buttons, then exhaled. "That heaven should contain such bliss."
Jane and Elsbeth exchanged glances. What made Mr. Burry even more amusing was that Serena’s and Millicent’s demeanor made it obvious they took such fulsome compliments as their due!
Lady Elsbeth allowed herself to be led to a chair opposite Jane while Mr. Burry steered Lady Serena to another settee long enough to seat them both comfortably.
"I’ve requested Cook to set back dinner a half hour so Lord and Lady Willoughby and Sir Helmsdon do not feel too rushed," Lady Elsbeth told Jane.
"That was probably wise regardless. What with Mrs. Chitterdean now ill, I doubt Reverend Chitterdean will be prompt. She keeps him organized and on time, I dare say he’d even be late for Sunday service if it weren’t for her good offices." Jane turned toward Lady Serena. "Will you be staying through the weekend? Reverend Chitterdean does deliver a fine sermon."
"Our plans are as yet indefinite."
"Oh, but I thought you