Read Online The Private Affairs Of Lady Jane Fielding by Viveka Portman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Viveka Portman
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and I am dreadfully embarrassed, and yet still have not completely declined this mad, vulgar, plan. And in truth I do not know if I even want to. Yet there is nothing for it, I admit I do have a curiosity…’ I sighed then. ‘Mayhap if you had looked at me like a dirty letch, Matthew, my repulsion would give reason for reluctance and yet…’
The men were completely silent.
‘As the days pass, I find myself less and less reluctant.’
There, I had said it, and the men were still. The only sounds in the carriage were the muffled footfall of the horses as we made our way to Stanton.
Eventually, I gathered the courage to look up at Jacob’s face. Unsure of what I would see there. Resentment? Anger? Acceptance? I could not judge. He caught my gaze, and smiled slowly.
‘It is the only way to ensure the safety of our family and the title.’
‘I know this,’ I replied, then looked up at Matthew. His eyes, such an attractive deep blue, stared at me in bewilderment. He licked his lips, and his large hands clenched tightly in his lap.
He said nothing for the remainder of the journey to Stanton.
We arrived at the party unfashionably late, and it seemed in full revelry. The gardens, I must say, were beautifully finished, and the renovations to the buildings added a charm they had previously lacked. As our carriage was taken by the groomsmen, we were directed to a large white marquee where refreshments were being served. Jacob was occupied introducing Matthew to those who had not made his acquaintance. This left me free to observe the party attendants in relative peace, and struggle silently with my own mystifying thoughts.
As I followed my husband around the party, inattentively listening to banter about hunting, I found myself facing the young Lady Catherine Bexley. I curtseyed and greeted her, though I know little of her. Pretty to a fault, she seems rather timid to me. If I am not mistaken the girl has been married only a month or so. Her husband, Lord Joseph Bexley, is an acquaintance of Jacob, and is many years Catherine’s senior. It is perhaps kindest if I describe the gentleman as an imposing figure, and one most proper. Else there is little kind to say about him at all. I almost pity her; a wedding at the best of times is ironically both the happiest and most terrifying day in a gentlewoman’s life, and to be married to Lord Bexley! England has never seen such propriety. The man is so damnably rigid one suspects he may shatter if he were to mistakenly bump something.
I smiled at Lady Catherine during a lull in our conversation, and turned to glance once more at her husband. He was perhaps an inch or two taller than both Jacob and Matthew, who were fine tall men. He was broad, handsome I suppose, if one likes a brooding visage. Then, may the good Lord forgive me, my eyes brushed past his breeches, and there was no mistaking the magnitude of his maleness.
I felt that wretched heat swell in my breast and I fanned myself furiously.
It was then the young Lady Bexley drew me back into conversation. ‘How fare your children, Lady Fielding?’ she asked, though I am most certain it was politeness that urged her to ask, rather than genuine interest in the subject.
I was certain she would have had word of Jacob’s injury. Was she inquiring into that area? I wondered. I felt myself frown slightly. ‘Well, thank you. And you? Does marriage suit you?’
For a brief moment, I saw a shadow pass over her youthful features, before she smiled. ‘Quite.’
‘Soon you shall have children of your own,’ I said and nodded. ‘I shall be happy to recommend a wet nurse and governess should you ever feel the need.’ I hesitated, as I saw Mrs Lidia Swinton walk past, her arm latched through her husband’s in a markedly possessive gesture. ‘Mrs Swinton,’ I hailed her to come. She turned and smiled, raising a gloved hand in greeting. She whispered something to her husband; he turned a handsome face in our direction and
The men were completely silent.
‘As the days pass, I find myself less and less reluctant.’
There, I had said it, and the men were still. The only sounds in the carriage were the muffled footfall of the horses as we made our way to Stanton.
Eventually, I gathered the courage to look up at Jacob’s face. Unsure of what I would see there. Resentment? Anger? Acceptance? I could not judge. He caught my gaze, and smiled slowly.
‘It is the only way to ensure the safety of our family and the title.’
‘I know this,’ I replied, then looked up at Matthew. His eyes, such an attractive deep blue, stared at me in bewilderment. He licked his lips, and his large hands clenched tightly in his lap.
He said nothing for the remainder of the journey to Stanton.
We arrived at the party unfashionably late, and it seemed in full revelry. The gardens, I must say, were beautifully finished, and the renovations to the buildings added a charm they had previously lacked. As our carriage was taken by the groomsmen, we were directed to a large white marquee where refreshments were being served. Jacob was occupied introducing Matthew to those who had not made his acquaintance. This left me free to observe the party attendants in relative peace, and struggle silently with my own mystifying thoughts.
As I followed my husband around the party, inattentively listening to banter about hunting, I found myself facing the young Lady Catherine Bexley. I curtseyed and greeted her, though I know little of her. Pretty to a fault, she seems rather timid to me. If I am not mistaken the girl has been married only a month or so. Her husband, Lord Joseph Bexley, is an acquaintance of Jacob, and is many years Catherine’s senior. It is perhaps kindest if I describe the gentleman as an imposing figure, and one most proper. Else there is little kind to say about him at all. I almost pity her; a wedding at the best of times is ironically both the happiest and most terrifying day in a gentlewoman’s life, and to be married to Lord Bexley! England has never seen such propriety. The man is so damnably rigid one suspects he may shatter if he were to mistakenly bump something.
I smiled at Lady Catherine during a lull in our conversation, and turned to glance once more at her husband. He was perhaps an inch or two taller than both Jacob and Matthew, who were fine tall men. He was broad, handsome I suppose, if one likes a brooding visage. Then, may the good Lord forgive me, my eyes brushed past his breeches, and there was no mistaking the magnitude of his maleness.
I felt that wretched heat swell in my breast and I fanned myself furiously.
It was then the young Lady Bexley drew me back into conversation. ‘How fare your children, Lady Fielding?’ she asked, though I am most certain it was politeness that urged her to ask, rather than genuine interest in the subject.
I was certain she would have had word of Jacob’s injury. Was she inquiring into that area? I wondered. I felt myself frown slightly. ‘Well, thank you. And you? Does marriage suit you?’
For a brief moment, I saw a shadow pass over her youthful features, before she smiled. ‘Quite.’
‘Soon you shall have children of your own,’ I said and nodded. ‘I shall be happy to recommend a wet nurse and governess should you ever feel the need.’ I hesitated, as I saw Mrs Lidia Swinton walk past, her arm latched through her husband’s in a markedly possessive gesture. ‘Mrs Swinton,’ I hailed her to come. She turned and smiled, raising a gloved hand in greeting. She whispered something to her husband; he turned a handsome face in our direction and
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