Page 11 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

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“John, may I have a word?”

Jane was surprised she had breath left after her mad dash through the garden. She’d taken time to shed her outdoor things and compose herself before she sought John.

She found him in the library, book in hand, but he wasn’t reading. John gazed rather wistfully out the window to the park in front of the house, the book dangling idly.

When he heard Jane, he rose to his feet and pasted on a polite smile. “Good morning, Jane. Did you have a nice walk?”

Jane halted, her cheeks scalding. Had he seen the kiss? Or been told about it?

John’s face, however, held the bland curiosity of a man who had been thinking of everything but Jane, only recalled to her existence by her presence.

“The walk was agreeable,” Jane said hastily. She glanced behind her to make certain the few servants who’d agreed to stay and help today did not linger in the hall. She dared not close the door in case a guest insisted that Jane shut into a room with her old friend meant either her ruin or their engagement.

She had no idea how to begin, so she jumped to the point, bypassing politeness.

“John, I would take it kindly if you did not propose to me.”

John stared at her as though he didn’t understand her words, then his brows climbed, his mouth forming a half smile. “I beg your pardon?”

Jane balled her hands and plunged on. “Please do not propose marriage to me. It will be easier for both of us if I do not have to refuse you.”

CHAPTER5

Oh.”John gaped at her. His features were still very like those he’d had as a child—round cheeks, soft chin, bewildered brown eyes. “Damn and blast—Ingram has got at you, has he? Viper to my bosom.”

“Captain Ingram?” Good heavens, had Spencer discussed this with John? “Captain Ingram has nothing to do with this,” Jane said heatedly. “Or, if he does, it is that he made me see keeping silent is hurting you as well as myself. We do not care for each other—not in the ’til-death-do-us-part fashion, in any case. Of course I have affection for you as a friend, and always will. We grew up together. But that does not mean we should continue as man and wife, no matter how many members of our family and friends believe so.”

John’s astonishment grew as Jane rambled, and she trailed off, her face unbearably hot.

John lifted his chin. “I cannot believe you so flighty, Jane, that you could allow a man, who pretends to be a gentleman, change your thoughts so swiftly.”

“He did not.” Jane shook her head, her heart squeezing. “I’ve had these thoughts a long time, even if I did not admit them to myself. But I did not want to hurt you, my dear old friend. I believe now thatnotspeaking will do even more harm. What happens if, in a year or two, you meet a lady you truly love? One who could be your helpmeet, your friend, the mother of your children? And you were already betrothed or married to me? Let us prevent that tragedy here and now.”

John scowled. “Or is it thatyouwish to fall in love with another and not be tied tome?”

“Nonsense,” Jane said. “I have no intention of marrying anyone.”

She flushed even as she spoke. Spencer tempted her, yes, but she barely knew him. She would not fly from an understanding with John to an elopement with Spencer in the space of a day.

Would she?

“I believe you,” John said in a hard voice. “Your nose held so high, your frosty demeanor in place. You’ve grown cold, Jane. If I haven’t spoken to you about sharing a stall for life, it is because you are quite disagreeable these days. Your letters to me are so formal, about what calves were born and who danced with whom at the village ball. Enthralling.”

Jane’s coolness evaporated in a flash. “These in answer to the very few letters you have sentme. I’ve not heard from you since summer, in fact. Do not bother to use the excuse of battles, because your mother has had plenty of letters from you, as has my brother, and I know that the sister of a man in your regiment has heard plenty fromhim—the letters arrive in England on the same ship. But none from you to me.”

John reddened. “Hardly seemly, is it, writing to a lady to whom I am not engaged?”

“It did not stop you the first year you were gone, nor has it stopped you scolding me for not writing scintillating letters to you.”

John attempted a lofty tone. “You are such a child, Jane.”

“No, I am not. I am twenty, as I reminded you last night, older than several ladies of my acquaintance who are already married. Old enough to be on the shelf, as you know. But I will not tie us to a marriage neither of us wants to avoid that fate.”

“Ah, so that is why you were always sweet to me, eh, Janie? So you’d never be an ape-leader?” John’s mouth pinched. “I’ll have you know that I planned to speak to you this week, my dear, but not to propose. To tell you there is the sister of an officer who has caught my eye, and as you have become so cool, and she is quite warm, that we should agree to part.”

Jane’s heart stung, and she regarded him in remorse. She hadn’t wanted to anger John, but how could he not be angry? His stabs at her came from his bafflement and hurt, but Jane sensed that he was more insulted at her refusal than deeply wounded.

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