Page 1 of A Lady's Stardust Passion
Chapter 1
London, 1820
“Dear Jane, what are you drawing? My book is utterly boring, and I need amusement. Do tell me.”
Lady Jane Caldwell looked up from what she’d been sketching with her charcoal pencil to smile at her best friend, Lady Margaret Davenport.
“Ah, here I thought you were keen to read, and if I remember correctly, only an hour before you requested that I not interrupt you.”
Margaret rolled her eyes and slammed her book shut, putting it down on the settee next to her. “You really do have an abhorrent memory, Jane. I said nothing of the kind. Come, come, tell me what you're drawing.” Margaret's grey eyes widened with interest, and Jane chuckled.
She put down her pencil, turned the sketchbook, and held it out so Margaret could take it in hand. Standing, she stretched and went to stare out the window while Margaret stared at the drawing.
“Beautiful, Jane. You always say that you're not an artist and here you are drawing a starry night so perfectly.”
Jane continued to look out the window of her townhouse, and she saw her faint smile in the reflection as well as the glint of her blue eyes. “Thank you, Margaret, but I’m afraid my abilities dim considerably compared to my talented mother.”
Margaret sighed softly. Jane put her hands behind her back and closed her eyes for a moment, knowing what her best friend was about to say and dreading it slightly.
“You know that your mother would never want you to compare yourself so. You’re your own person with your own skills and talents. Please tell me you know this. If not, I will have to start telling you every day and perhaps even painting it on the walls of your room.”
To her surprise, Jane chuckled. Thoughts of her mother always lowered her mood, drawing her back into the past, but Margaret's quick wit and sarcasm also always brought her back to the present, reminding her of the happiness at hand.
She turned around and went to sit back down again, grabbing the sketchbook from her friend and laying it on the table in front of her. “What do you think of tea?” she asked.
“Oh, I think it a fine idea. Biscuits too, please.”
With a grin, Jane rose and went to speak to the maid to call for tea. Margaret was already chatting with her by the time she sat down again.
“How are you today? We've hardly spoken. We had all these plans for a peaceful, quiet afternoon, but I find I can't bear it,” Margaret said.
Her blonde curls were bouncing as she spoke excitedly. Her dear friend was almost her complete contrast: blonde, bright, and cheerful with gray eyes, while Jane had long, raven-black hair and sharp. blue eyes. She was hardly ever considered as cheerful as Margaret, for grief had struck her life early.
She had lost her mother at thirteen years old, and now that she was twenty-one, only one month past, she had been without her dear, adventurous mother for eight years now.
“I am well, Margaret. You don't have to worry, even though I've been sketching starry nights more often lately. How are you?”
Margaret sighed, put her elbow on the arm of the chair, and placed her chin on her fist. “I too am well, but I am not eager for the start of the Season.”
Jane lifted a brow, surprised at her social friend.
“I know you think me lying, but it's true. Last Season was not a success, as you know, and my mother is very eager that I find a match this year. I know she will put so much pressure on me that I won't be able to bear it.” Margaret closed her eyes, but then they snapped open again and an apologetic look crossed her face. “Forgive me, Jane. I know I should be grateful that my mother is still here to bother me.”
Jane smirked. “Yes, you should be, but I can understand how frustrating it would be to deal with the Viscountess. She is a formidable woman, and I've been afraid of her my entire life.” They both laughed, and Jane leaned back in her chair, her mind turning back to her mother again.
“I suppose this is not as much of a surprise that I'm also not looking forward to the season. I know Aunt Sarah and Uncle Hamish are eager for me to find a match, but you know what I really want.”
Margaret sat up a little taller, and in a dramatic voice suited for the stage, she said, “To set sail for distant shores, to learn all you can about astronomy in your travels.”
Jane grinned and pointed at her. “Exactly. So, there doesn't seem to be much room for being a wife in all those busy plans.”
“Your traveling mother did it. She became a wife, and had you, and lived in England.”
“Yes, but she had her travels first. Having a wealthy uncle helped her, and they traveled together for so many years. Her journals, Margaret, they're incredible. And she and my father traveled too, before she got sick.
But everyone we know in the marriage mart makes it seem as though finding a match is the end of everything, staying at home and being exactly who everyone wants you to be. I know that Aunt Sarah so wishes it for me, claiming that it will ‘protect’ me.”
“But you do have to marry in order to receive all your inheritance. Isn’t that right?”
