Claiming The Chaperon's Heart. Anne Herries

ink. She had just begun her first reply to an invitation when a tap at her door heralded the arrival of the impatient guest. She waited as the door opened and the man she was expecting was announced. Getting slowly to her feet, Jane looked at the man that entered, her heart suddenly beating faster. He was at least a head taller than she, and she was a tall woman. Harry had been slightly shorter but that had never mattered because they were so much in love, but this man could look down on her. Her first thought was that he had a harsh face, but was otherwise unremarkable, and then she looked at his eyes—fierce, and wild, she thought with a little shock, untamed.

      ‘I have come to speak with Lady March and my ward, Miss Amelia Bellingham. Would you have the goodness to ask them to come down, ma’am?’

      ‘I am Lady March, and I will certainly ask Melia to come down shortly, but perhaps it might be wise if we spoke first alone?’

      ‘You—but you’re far too young...’ he said, looking astonished.

      ‘What have you been told?’ Jane felt a laugh escape her, try as she might to control it. ‘Forgive me, sir, but I believe you are Lord Frant—and I am certainly Lady March. My brother, the Viscount Salisbury, will verify that if you wish.’

      ‘Of course not...forgive me,’ he said and his eyes glinted, though she was not sure whether it was anger or something else she saw in them. ‘I presumed from...but no matter. I hope I do not inconvenience you but you did say any morning at this hour?’

      ‘So I did,’ Jane replied. ‘Melia is trying on some gowns that were delivered this morning, but I will send for her in a moment. When we have established why it is so very urgent that you see both of us.’

      ‘I merely wished to make her acquaintance,’ he said, looking as if the wind had been taken out of his sails. ‘Without my consent or knowledge, her father made both Amelia and Elizabeth my wards. The elder girl is married but I thought...’ He paused, as though he was not sure what he wanted to say. ‘It was never my wish that they should be turned from their home and I wanted to make sure that they—Miss Amelia in particular—had all she needed for her comfort and happiness...’

      ‘Ah, then we are in agreement,’ Jane said and smiled at him. He stared at her as though he did not quite know what had hit him. ‘Melia is my friend and—although it is not certain, she may one day be my sister. I believe my brother is fond of her and, if they find they suit, he intends to make her an offer of marriage....’

      ‘Indeed...’ Lord Frant went on staring at her. She thought he looked shocked and felt quite sorry for him. Jane suspected that he had come spoiling for a fight, and something—she had no idea what—had pricked the bubble of anger, leaving him drained like an empty balloon. ‘I am glad to hear she has prospects. It was—and still is—my intention to settle five thousand pounds on her. I intend to do the same for her sister. Ten thousand pounds is more or less the sum I shall receive once I sell the Bellingham estate, and I have no wish to profit from any of it.’

      ‘It is your intention to sell then?’ Jane appraised him with her clear eyes. ‘I had thought perhaps you had come home to live?’

      ‘Yes, perhaps I have,’ he said, seeming to come back to himself all at once. He smiled and she saw that his mouth was soft and sensual, not at all hard or harsh as she’d first thought. ‘I have not decided; it will depend on various things...’

      ‘Well, I see we have reached a happy agreement,’ Jane said, realising she had quite misjudged him. ‘I shall send Melia down to you so that you may talk in private.’

      ‘Oh, no,’ he said quickly. ‘Pray send your servant to fetch her, ma’am. There is nothing I wish to say that you may not hear...’

       Chapter Four

      ‘We have an engagement for the theatre tomorrow evening,’ Paul told Adam when they met at the boxing club that afternoon. ‘Please keep the evening free, dear fellow. I want you to escort my ward, while I entertain her chaperon.’

      ‘Do you mean Lady Moira?’ Adam asked, reluctant, for he had not liked the lady Paul had chosen for the task when she called at the house.

      ‘Oh, no, that is all changed,’ Paul informed him in a blithe tone that made him arch his brows. ‘Lady March will be accompanying us. Melia is happy with her and there seems no point in taking her away from where she is settled. Besides, it was all arranged on the spur of the moment. I did ask Viscount Salisbury—Lady March’s brother—to accompany us, but he was engaged to play cards that evening.’

      ‘So you thought I would oblige?’ Adam gave him a clear look. ‘I suppose Miss Bellingham looks like a horse?’

      Paul gave a shout of laughter. ‘I think her quite pretty. Of course she cannot hold a candle to Lady March... She is lovely, Adam. Truly lovely...’

      ‘Good grief, if I did not know better I would think you smitten,’ Adam said and his eyebrows rose higher as he saw the expression on Paul’s face. ‘Are you? Is she more beautiful than Annamarie?’

      ‘Completely different and utterly wonderful...’ Paul shook his head as he saw the astonishment in his friend’s eyes. ‘Yes, you may stare. Such a letter she wrote me! I thought she must be some old trout and went there prepared to put her down—but one look from those eyes and I was floored. I just stood there and couldn’t speak for some minutes. I have never experienced anything like it, my dear fellow. She took my breath away when she smiled.’

      ‘You have got it bad,’ Adam said drily, still hardly believing that he was hearing those words from Paul’s mouth. ‘In India you could have had any woman you wanted...including the daughter of an earl, but you barely spared any of them a look.’

      ‘Wait until you see her,’ Paul said. He grinned at his friend. ‘If you value your life, please do not fall in love with her. She’s mine...’

      ‘Prepared to fight to the death for her, are you?’ Adam teased, thinking he was merely jesting, and then caught his breath as he saw the answer in Paul’s face. ‘What is so special about Lady March?’

      Paul stared at him for a full minute in silence and then shook his head. ‘I’m damned if I know, Adam. She is beautiful, but it isn’t that...the laughter in her eyes, perhaps, and yet it isn’t just that. To be honest, I have no idea why I feel this way; it just came out of the blue. I was angry, prepared to come the injured party and demand my rights, but then...it was just so sudden. One minute I wanted to strangle her, and the next it took me all my resolve not to take her in my arms and kiss her until she surrendered.’

      ‘I should not advise that you do any such thing,’ Adam warned. ‘I met her brother this morning at my club and he told me that Jane is still grieving for her husband. He has only been dead just over two years.’

      ‘Jane...her name is Jane? Sweet Jane, my love,’ Paul said and sighed. ‘Yes, I was told she was recently a widow but I didn’t realise...I thought her older. She is the woman for me. If she will not have me then I shall never marry.’

      ‘Nonsense,’ Adam chided. ‘You do not know her yet. Supposing she turns out to have a vicious temper and a sharp tongue?’

      Paul looked rueful. ‘She may have, for all I know. She certainly wrote me a cool letter but perhaps I deserved it, for mine to her was curt and I was angry when I left the viscount’s house.’

      ‘Be careful, my friend. You do not know this lady yet. Take your time, for if you plunge straight in one of two things will happen...’ Paul looked enquiring and he smiled. ‘Either she is on the catch for a husband and she will take you for your money—or she truly loved her husband and will break your heart by turning you down instantly.’

      ‘I do not think there is a lack of money there,’ Paul said. ‘Nor do I think she is on the catch for a husband—but she would very likely turn me down flat. No, you are right, Adam. I must play a long game—but I could not help