The Last Duchess (The Lennox Series)(131)
Remembering her hurt from the last time she entered the hallowed halls of the Bloomsbury home, Jane could almost laugh. How long ago it seemed, and how unimportant.
The announcement of their names had most everyone within the ballroom straining to look their way, openly staring as they made their way around the periphery, Blix leading them toward a less populated section of the wall.
Jane stood next to her husband, shoulders back, head held high, meeting the gazes of those she would call friend, but for a viscous lie. They returned her gaze, unsmiling, unwelcoming, but in some, she detected perhaps a trace of admiration. That she would attend the ball was courageous, they thought. How could they know that any fear she harbored was not due to being shunned and ignored, but because she was to face MacDougal for the first time since the night she leveled her pistol and shot him in the bollocks?
Determined not to show the slightest crack in her demeanor, she remained by her husband and gained strength from the support of his warm, muscled arm beneath her gloved hand.
Within five minutes, she spotted MacDougal across the room, conversing with Wrotham and Miss North, along with a handful of other young unmarried misses. She stared. Blixford stared. Sherbourne and Lucy stared. Eventually, half the ballroom stared.
At precisely the moment MacDougal realized he was being studied much like a bug in a jar, the Bloomsbury butler announced in an excessively loud voice, “James Lennox, Viscount Hildebrand. Lady Northern. Mr. John Lennox. Mr. Henry Lennox. Mr. Julian Lennox. Mr. Bramwell Lennox. Mr. Robert Lennox. Recently of Scotland, Miss Mary Anna MacGruder.” The last he practically shouted, and a hush fell over the ballroom.
Stunned, Jane didn’t move her gaze from MacDougal, but whispered beneath her breath, “What a remarkable man you are.”
“I can’t take all the credit,” Blix replied softly. “She replied to my letter immediately and enthusiastically vowed her assistance. Seems she also determined the make of the man, luckily before she married him. Your Aunt Northern was gracious and welcomed her as her houseguest. As to your brothers appearing en masse, I believe you’ve your father to thank for that. He sent notes around this afternoon, mentioning you would be in attendance tonight.”
Her eyes devoured them. How she had missed them while she lived in Scotland, and barely back in England, she’d married and had gone from them again. She vowed to ask them to Eastchase Hall in summer. They would catch up at last.
Miss MacGruder was a lovely woman, fair and blond, with incongruously dark eyes. Her petite form in the midst of Jane’s brothers made quite an impression. Those who were not already staring stopped what they were doing and joined the others.
While they stared, Miss Mary Anna MacGruder of Scotland, on the arm of Mr. Henry Lennox, walked straight up to the earl of Haversham and said in a loud, but cultured voice, lightly accented by a soft burr, “By all the saints, my lord, this is a surprise! You’ve grown courage, it seems.” Her gaze darted toward Jane before returning to MacDougal. “Are you not afeared your cousin might again produce a pistol and shoot to unman you? She’s as great a reason to try now as she had last time, does she not? She suffered from your lies, and now suffers again.” She looked to Jane. “Ma’am, you have my sympathy for the stone about your neck that is your cousin. I’ve the great fortune of not being related to him, and praise God I cried off of marrying the louse when I realized his true character. If I could shoot half as well as you, I believe I’d finish what you attempted.”
Jane realized it was her cue. Reaching into Blixford’s pocket, her hand closed around the small pistol he had given her, the beautiful wee thing with a pearl handle and engraved barrel. Lifting it free, she pointed it toward MacDougal. A collective gasp resounded through the ballroom and the distance between she and MacDougal hastily cleared of people, all of them moving back out of her line of fire. “It occurs to me, Miss MacGruder, that you’re correct. I’m shunned, so what have I to lose by shooting him? I will, at least, gain satisfaction for myself, my husband and my family. Blixford would have called you out, MacDougal, but it would imply you deserve the honor of a level field. Instead, you’ll be shot by a woman and thus unmanned in more ways than one.” She lowered the barrel and pointed the pistol directly at his crotch, her hand amazingly steady.
His eyes widened with fear. “Jane, you would not!” He looked about at the shocked faces of Lady Bloomsbury’s guests before refocusing on her –and her pistol. “Tell them the truth, Jane. Despite being ruined to any gentleman, you pursued me endlessly, determined I would marry you, instead of merely keeping you as my mistress. When my betrothal to Anna was announced, you went into a fury and shot me.”