Page 21 of The Truth about the Marquess
“I do not think that it is wise but, all the same, I understand. Now, let us talk about other things. Do you think the play will be enjoyable this evening? I confess to knowing very little about it!”
“It is a comedy, and I am very much looking forward to laughing,” Jane answered, with a smile. “It is sure to be just the thing I need.”
Makingher way through the crowd, glass in hand, Jane tried not to get lost in the crush. The first half of the play had been most enjoyable, and she had laughed aloud on many occasions, finding herself smiling at just how freely she was able to enjoy the spectacle.
That had not always been the case. Her late husband had made certain that she was kept away from any sort of frivolity, truth be told, and that had meant a life of sadness and loneliness. Aside from his company, she had not been permitted anyone else to speak with, but now, how much had changed!
“Lady Harsham, howgoodto see you in London.” A hand caught her wrist, though it dropped away quickly as Jane turned. “Though I was sorry to hear of the passing of your late husband, of course.”
“Of course,” Jane murmured, trying to place the lady in front of her. “Your sympathy is much appreciated.”
The older lady’s smile grew a little fixed, as though, somehow, she knew that Jane did not remember her.
“Might I ask if you are here in London for any particular reason? After all, it has been some time since your husband passed away, has it not?”
Completely taken aback at the lady’s blunt question – and aware that there were two other ladies standing with her – it took Jane a moment to answer.
“I confess that I have come here merely to enjoy good company.”
“I see.”
“Goodness, you are most inquisitive, Lady Marchfield!” One of the other ladies who stood with them trilled a laugh and then waved a hand in Jane’s direction, as though to dismiss the concern that Jane now felt. “You must forgive her, she is always so interested in the lives of others – though not in a bad way, you understand. It is out of kindness and consideration.”
Jane forced a smile.
“I see.”
“Ialwayswish to know what I ought to be enquiring after,” Lady Marchfield exclaimed, as though she was not truly seeking out gossip, which was what Jane silently believed. “It means that I can show a true care and consideration for each of my acquaintances.”
Catching a look shared between the other ladies, one that spoke of utter disbelief in that regard, Jane kept her smile fixed in place.
“That is most considerate, Lady Marchfield. However, I am afraid that there is nothing more for me to say other than to state that I am here in London to find the company I have sorely been lacking these last few years.”
Lady Marchfield sniffed.
“Yes, you were quite far removed, were you not?” Jane nodded but said nothing more. “I did not think your husband a particularly good man,” Lady Marchfield continued, speaking so plainly and without even a second of consideration as to who else might be listening, or how Jane herself might be feeling about what had been said. “We all know that your marriage was not one of your own choosing, however, for it was your father’s agreement, was it not?”
Opening her mouth, Jane found it suddenly dry, struggling to know what to say and how to say it without sounding very rude indeed. She wanted to tell Lady Marchfield that her marriage to Lord Harsham was none of her business whatsoever and that she did not appreciate it being spoken of in such a way… but nothing came to her lips.
“Ah, Lady Harsham, there you are. I see that you have a glass in your hand already, otherwise I would have offered to fetch you one.” A smiling face entered the conversation and immediately, Jane’s upset began to fade. “I would be glad to accompany you back to your seat. Lady Guilford sent me to find you, you see. I think she quite lost you in the crowd!”
Taking in a deep breath, Jane nodded, her throat constricting just a little.
“Lord Edenbridge, good evening.” She managed to smile as relief began to wash through her. “Howverygood it is to see you.”
Chapter Nine
Lady Harsham had not been on Oliver’s mind in the least, not until he had spied her coming into the theatre alongside Lady Guilford. He had not been able to explain it even to himself, but something about the lady had drawn his attention, and he had watched her seat herself in the theatre box, ready for the play. Promising himself that he would go and speak with her during the intermission, Oliver had not been able to stop himself from glancing at her now and again as the play had commenced, finding that her bright smile, her sparkling eyes and the clear delight she took in watching the play made him smile also.
Thereafter, however, he had forced himself to consider the young ladies near him and deliberately ensured that his attention remained away from Lady Harsham. After all, his task was now to find three young ladies to consider with a more serious eye, and that was his sole purpose in attending the theatre this evening. Now, wandering through the crowd – all of whom were enjoying both a drink and good conversation – Oliver let his gaze rest on every young lady’s face for just a moment, wondering whom he might choose. He had already spoken with one Lady Henrietta – an acquaintance of LordDunstable – and that conversation had gone rather well – though he still had two young ladies to find.
“Miss Olivia Leverton,” he murmured to himself, spying the young lady as she spoke to another gentleman, though her mother kept a watchful eye upon the conversation. With a nod, he made his way towards her, knowing from previous acquaintance that, though the lady was quiet and a little reserved, he had enjoyed conversation with her last Season. Perhaps it was her shy nature that had not yet brought her a husband.
“Good evening, Lady Keswick, Miss Leverton.” He bowed to them both, just as the other gentleman stepped away, which encouraged Oliver all the more. “I do hope that you have both been enjoying the play thus far?”
Miss Leverton looked at her mother first before she spoke, though she then kept her gaze fixed on the floor rather than looking at him, her face coloring slowly.
“Yes, we are. Very much.”
