boxes. She spotted Lady Baxter, then followed the direction of her gaze to see Robert transferring the bet.
His expression was stiff, masked. He turned back towards the boxes and began walking. He smiled, Jane presumed, at Lady Baxter, and lifted a hand.
Jane turned the glasses onto the group within his box. They were mostly men, but there were three women. They all seemed in high spirits.
What Robert had said was true, of course. He hadn’t even known Jane was in London when he’d courted Lady Baxter. Yet the thought of him with another woman made Jane’s skin crawl. She hated Lady Baxter for no good reason at all. Well,
that,
Jane had best get used to. If his reputation was true, there were hundreds of other women, and there would be hundreds more. Perhaps coming to London had been a mistake.
“Forgive me for intruding, Your Grace, but you are being a little obvious.” Lord Sparks’s whispered baritone made her jump, and her hand dropped to her lap, the weight of the glasses resting on her thigh. His eyes were laughing. “If you will permit me?” He pointed towards the course. “The horses are in that direction. But, of course, if you are weighing up the potential of another type of stallion … ”
Again, Jane blushed. She had done nothing but blush today, and she was unable to offer any response. Her eyes involuntarily lifted to the box across the green, from which she heard a burst of raucous laughter as the Earl of Barrington climbed up.
Blushing more strongly, she turned her eyes to the race and sought to hide behind the rim of her bonnet. Another laugh rang out. She could not help it, she turned back. She could see enough without the glasses to know Robert was looking in her direction, along with half the men in his group.
A slight, deep laugh erupted beside her. Lord Sparks had followed the direction of her gaze once more. She felt his gloved hand cover hers, which over-tightly gripped the glasses in her lap.
“Barrington is not the sort to kiss and tell, if that is what you are worrying over.”
Her gaze spun to Lord Sparks. She surely could not be any redder. “
You know
?” Her whisper was half question, half accusation, at the thought that Robert had told him.
He let go of her hand. “I was with Violet when you returned.”
Jane was mortified, if only the ground would swallow her whole. To think Violet had been – while Jane had refused. “We did not—”
“It is none of my business, if you did. Really, Your Grace, I do not care. I only meant to reassure.”
“I have warned her,” Violet piped up, leaning across Lord Sparks. “I told you Barrington is an out and out bounder, Jane. He is playing you off against that woman.”
“He is not so bad, Vi. If the Dowager Duchess likes him—”
Violet visibly bristled. “I know he is your friend, and I know your sister’s silly theory about his broken heart, but that man
has
no heart.”
“As you may tell,” Lord Sparks laughed, glancing back at Jane, “Violet is very opinionated on the subject of Lord Barrington. She disapproves of our friendship.”
“You may have whom you like as your friend. It is what he does to mine I care about. He is callous. Anyway, Jane, you have done what you have done, and that will be an end to it in any case.”
A shot rang out, setting the horses underway, and any thought of their conversation was lost as the crowd began to yell for the various horses. Jane lifted her glasses to her eyes and saw the black mare. The jockey was in the colours of the Barrington’s livery, maroon and cream, and his short whip tapped regularly at the animal’s rump, driving the mare on.
The horse was a dream. She flew through the rest of the field, her head down and focused as though she enjoyed the sheer thrill of the race. When she stretched over the finishing line, Jane could not help but cheer, and turned to see pandemonium break out in Robert’s box. Robert was gifting Lady Baxter with a very thorough
His expression was stiff, masked. He turned back towards the boxes and began walking. He smiled, Jane presumed, at Lady Baxter, and lifted a hand.
Jane turned the glasses onto the group within his box. They were mostly men, but there were three women. They all seemed in high spirits.
What Robert had said was true, of course. He hadn’t even known Jane was in London when he’d courted Lady Baxter. Yet the thought of him with another woman made Jane’s skin crawl. She hated Lady Baxter for no good reason at all. Well,
that,
Jane had best get used to. If his reputation was true, there were hundreds of other women, and there would be hundreds more. Perhaps coming to London had been a mistake.
“Forgive me for intruding, Your Grace, but you are being a little obvious.” Lord Sparks’s whispered baritone made her jump, and her hand dropped to her lap, the weight of the glasses resting on her thigh. His eyes were laughing. “If you will permit me?” He pointed towards the course. “The horses are in that direction. But, of course, if you are weighing up the potential of another type of stallion … ”
Again, Jane blushed. She had done nothing but blush today, and she was unable to offer any response. Her eyes involuntarily lifted to the box across the green, from which she heard a burst of raucous laughter as the Earl of Barrington climbed up.
Blushing more strongly, she turned her eyes to the race and sought to hide behind the rim of her bonnet. Another laugh rang out. She could not help it, she turned back. She could see enough without the glasses to know Robert was looking in her direction, along with half the men in his group.
A slight, deep laugh erupted beside her. Lord Sparks had followed the direction of her gaze once more. She felt his gloved hand cover hers, which over-tightly gripped the glasses in her lap.
“Barrington is not the sort to kiss and tell, if that is what you are worrying over.”
Her gaze spun to Lord Sparks. She surely could not be any redder. “
You know
?” Her whisper was half question, half accusation, at the thought that Robert had told him.
He let go of her hand. “I was with Violet when you returned.”
Jane was mortified, if only the ground would swallow her whole. To think Violet had been – while Jane had refused. “We did not—”
“It is none of my business, if you did. Really, Your Grace, I do not care. I only meant to reassure.”
“I have warned her,” Violet piped up, leaning across Lord Sparks. “I told you Barrington is an out and out bounder, Jane. He is playing you off against that woman.”
“He is not so bad, Vi. If the Dowager Duchess likes him—”
Violet visibly bristled. “I know he is your friend, and I know your sister’s silly theory about his broken heart, but that man
has
no heart.”
“As you may tell,” Lord Sparks laughed, glancing back at Jane, “Violet is very opinionated on the subject of Lord Barrington. She disapproves of our friendship.”
“You may have whom you like as your friend. It is what he does to mine I care about. He is callous. Anyway, Jane, you have done what you have done, and that will be an end to it in any case.”
A shot rang out, setting the horses underway, and any thought of their conversation was lost as the crowd began to yell for the various horses. Jane lifted her glasses to her eyes and saw the black mare. The jockey was in the colours of the Barrington’s livery, maroon and cream, and his short whip tapped regularly at the animal’s rump, driving the mare on.
The horse was a dream. She flew through the rest of the field, her head down and focused as though she enjoyed the sheer thrill of the race. When she stretched over the finishing line, Jane could not help but cheer, and turned to see pandemonium break out in Robert’s box. Robert was gifting Lady Baxter with a very thorough
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