Jane shook her head to clear it of the prior subject. In the wake of this news about Upton, her plan to fool her mother didn’t seem quite as pressing, but Lucy was correct. Jane’s mother would be appearing in a few days and they needed to have a solid plan in place. Jane’s first attempt at scandal had ended hideously. She was wary of a second attempt.
“I, er, I cannot think of a sufficient scandal,” Jane mumbled.
“We’ll need a secondary plan in the meantime. Here is what I propose.” Lucy stood and shook out her skirts. “Between the three of us, you, Cass, and myself, we shall endeavor to keep your mother guessing. ‘Why, Mrs. Bunbury was just here not five moments ago, didn’t you see her? No, she’s not here now, but I just saw her near the refreshment table a bit earlier.’ That sort of thing.”
It sounded insane. But then again, most of Lucy’s plots sounded insane. That was the beauty of them, but even Jane had to admit they usually worked.
“Very well, we’ll take turns,” Jane agreed.
She had come to Surrey a few days ago, convinced that her Mrs. Bunbury plot was the most complicated thing in her life. Now she wasn’t certain about that. Not certain at all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Garrett scrubbed a hand through his hair. There was only one way to get to the bottom of this. He was going to bloody well ask Jane Lowndes himself. Was she or was she not in love with him? First, he would ask her to dance. The Morelands were having a dance tonight. A plain little dance. No dominoes, no hidden identities. It was quite simple.
He hadn’t been able to get what Cassandra had told him earlier out of his head. Jane Lowndes was in love with him? Could it be? It was true that she had been quite … congenial with him the other night, but that had been when they didn’t know who the other was, hadn’t it? Or had she known all along? No. It couldn’t be.
He was tired of guessing. He would ask her to dance, they would talk, and he would be able to tell by her reaction whether she was in love with him. It would be simple enough. Didn’t women who were in love simper and bat their eyelashes and that sort of thing? He could hardly imagine Miss Lowndes doing something like that. Normally, if she did anything of the sort, he’d probably ask her if she had something in her eye, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that there must be some sign, some tell, of a woman in love, some indication of whether Miss Lowndes, Jane—why was it so difficult to remember to think of her as Jane?—was such a woman. He would know soon enough.
Garrett squared his shoulders and took a deep breath, then made his way to the refreshment table where Jane hovered near the teacakes. She wore a light pink gown that wasn’t at all hideous. In fact it enhanced her figure. Had he ever seen her in pink before? Bloody hell, this was going to be awkward enough without him thinking about her figure again.
“Miss Lowndes?”
She swiveled on her heel and turned to face him, a large, telltale lump of teacake pushing out her cheek. She had the look of a hare trapped in a game warden’s snare. Pure fright.
She had the grace to chew and swallow before she responded. “Upton,” she said, gulping down the last bit. “What can I do for you?”
He bowed slightly. “I’ve come to ask you to dance. Would you do me the honor?”
She glanced back as if she expected another lady to be standing there. “Me?” She pointed to herself, eyes wide.
He had to smile. “Yes, you.”
Without looking, she set her empty plate on the table, pushing it behind her with a flick of the wrist. “I suppose I can dance with you.”
He bowed to her. “Thank you.” He held out his arm. She took a step forward and put her hand on his arm. He led her to the dance floor.
Was her hand trembling?
He pulled her into his arms as a waltz began to play. He’d tipped the musicians a goodly sum to play this waltz. It afforded the perfect opportunity to speak with Jane.
He spun her around. “Are you having a good time?”
Again, she had the look of a hare caught in a trap. Her eyes were wide and she was trembling. “Here? With you?”
“I meant at the party in general,” he said.
“Yes, of course.” She didn’t meet his eyes. A sign of a woman in love, was it not?
He laughed. “You’re lying. You’ve never enjoyed a party before in your life.” Her throat worked. Another sign of a lady in love?
“Then why did you ask me? I’m doing my best, Upton. Don’t I deserve credit for that?” She met his gaze this time and her dark brown eyes were bright and full of mischief. Quite charming, actually. Damn it. Now he had to look away.