The Heart's Companion - By Holly Newman Page 0,2

conniving shopkeeper."

"Jane, I must protest! That is unjust."

Her niece glared at her, the emerald of her eyes deepening in color. "And her daughter Millicent would make an alley cat yowl," she finished defiantly, her chin jutting forward, her posture rigid.

Lady Elsbeth sighed. "I have always known there is animosity between you two; yet neither party has seen fit to explain the matter. It is very daunting to be caught in the middle of something when one doesn’t even know what that something is . . ." She looked expectantly at her niece.

Jane’s lips thinned and her eyes took on a faraway expression, but she did not explain. She waved her hand airily, dismissing the conversation. "It was all a very long time ago and probably best forgotten," she declared firmly.

Leaning back in her chair, Lady Elsbeth philosophically accepted her failure. She’d actually held little hope of Jane confiding in her at this juncture, though her reticence did increase her curiosity. One long slender finger restlessly tapped the letter. "That is why," she began carefully, "I was interested in Serena’s letter. She writes most sincerely about your situation and laments your single state."

Actually, she had scolded her younger sister for her failure to find Jane a husband, but Lady Elsbeth did not see fit to divulge that information to Jane. "She believes you are merely lacking the proper environment for attracting gentlemen. She even praises us for retiring to the country when we did for she is convinced a rural setting will be more conducive to matrimonial matters."

"Oh, really, Elsbeth. What does she take me for? A milkmaid?"

Lady Elsbeth laughed. "My dear, I hardly think anyone could make that mistake. No, she writes that the social whirl has become too artificial and therefore not a proper conduit for making alliances. That is why she is in Margate for the summer, visiting Aunt Agatha Arbuthnot."

"Toadying Great Aunt Agatha for her East India Company riches? I thought Tipton left her comfortably well-heeled. "

"Jane, this penchant of yours for cant has got to stop. But to your statement about enough, I don’t think the word enough exists for Serena. "

"That I believe."

"By the way, Serena advises against traveling from London to Margate by way of a Margate hoy, though sailing on those sloops is popular these days. I gather she is annoyed that its popularity is shared by the middle classes."

"I’ve always known Lady Tipton to be an insufferable snob."

"Yes, that I shan’t argue with you. She has been like that ever since our brother, Simon, died in a riding accident. He was her twin. They were devoted to each other, and Simon was everyone’s darling. I don’t know why it should have altered her as it did, but there it is. But I’m digressing. Serena says she has achieved the notion that a provincial environment inspires matrimony. "

Jane choked and sputtered on a sip of coffee. "That is the most featherbrained notion I have heard! Next to you being too old, that is."

She coughed lightly to clear her throat; then her eyes narrowed until they resembled a stalking cat’s. "I wonder who told her that, for I doubt she thought it up. The woman is not capable of an original idea. And I ask you, Elsbeth, who does she expect me to marry? This neighborhood is hardly replete with eligible single men. The only one I can account for is Henry Culpepper, and since he is only eight, I sincerely question his eligibility."

"There is the Earl of Royce," Lady Elsbeth suggested. "Though I don’t think she means for you to marry him. I gather she has set her sights on him as a possible second husband for Millicent."

"Royce! He hasn’t been in England for years! Or has the prodigal returned? Is he at Margate wooing and ruining? Odd that. With his hedonistic reputation I would have thought if he were in England he’d be with Prinny’s crowd in Brighton!"

"Didn’t you know? He is in England! And in residence at Royceland Hall. He has been for a week or more, according to Mrs. Chitterdean. I swear that dear woman fatigues me just watching her. She is a wonderfully amiable soul, and such a dedicated helpmate for Reverend Chitterdean. They are well wedded in that respect. But she also manages to know all the news in the neighborhood more swiftly than any servants who, I swear, Jane, are generally the first to know everything."

Jane dabbed her napkin to her lips to brush away crumbs. "I