“I don’t believe I’ve done anything to lead her on, to allow her to hope … The widows of deceased soldiers have been treated poorly by the government. That’s why I’m in support of Swifdon’s new bill.”
“A noble cause to be sure,” Jane murmured. Once again, she looked him directly in the eye. “What happened over there, Garrett? Were you with Harold Langford when he died?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Garrett hadn’t answered. He’d said something vague about war being hell and promptly left the room. But Jane was certain Garrett knew more about Harold Langford’s death than he wanted to say, something that tied him to Harold’s widow.
Frankly, Jane had her suspicions about the widow when it came to the accident. She’d seen Mrs. Langford’s footman in the stables and wondered if he’d done anything to tamper with her saddle. Tampering with a saddle and then challenging your opponent to a race? A bit predictable, was it not? Of course there was no way to prove it without accusing Mrs. Langford outright. Perhaps that was what Jane deserved for being so quick to race that woman. She shouldn’t have trusted her for a moment. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Jane rang for Eloise to help her put the lilacs in water. Then she settled back against the pillows to continue reading her book. She didn’t have much more time to enjoy the peace and quiet. Mama would be here this afternoon. Jane could only hope the Mrs. Bunbury plan would work. As for the idea of starting a scandal, she was beginning to realize how dangerous that particular plan had been. She’d do well to stay far away from scandal until the house party ended.
* * *
Thankfully, by the late afternoon, Jane was able to walk on her ankle again. It was still a bit tender and she had to rest it more than she would have liked, but she was no longer confined to bed.
After the hunt, the wedding guests began to arrive. Along with Jane’s parents, Lucy’s parents, Lord and Lady Upbridge, came. Garrett’s mother, Lucy’s Aunt Mary, bustled in, hugging everyone and declaring that Cass had never looked more lovely. Derek’s brothers, Adam and Collin Hunt, arrived as well, and so did Lord Berkeley, one of Garrett’s good friends from school whom they had all met in Bath the previous summer.
The wedding was to be held the next morning and the festivities would last well into the night. Jane was torn. Part of her was relieved that the house party would soon be over and she could go back to reading her books and ensuring that Mrs. Cat and her kittens had enough to eat. But another part of her … a part she didn’t want to fully admit to, was a bit melancholy over the thought of leaving the party, and Garrett.
Though, admittedly, Jane had little time to think about Garrett. Well, less time than usual. She was busy bustling around—as best she could on her tender ankle—in an attempt to keep her mother from meeting Mrs. Bunbury.
Jane hobbled a few doors down to her mother’s room to greet her.
“Your father’s in the study with the other gentlemen,” her mother announced. “What is it about gentlemen and studies?” She shook her head.
“It’s lovely to see you, Mama.” Jane kissed her on the cheek.
“How is your leg, dear?” her mother asked, watching her slow progression across the room. “I nearly had an apoplexy when Lady Cassandra’s footman came to fetch your spectacles.”
“It was just a small tumble from a horse. My pride was hurt much more than my ankle.”
A worry line creased her mother’s brow. “Oh, Jane, please don’t tell me you were racing gentlemen on horseback. That’s hardly the behavior one looks for in a wife and—”
It was typical of her mother to be more worried about her daughter’s reputation than her health. “No, Mama. I was racing another lady on horseback. I would have won, too, if the saddle hadn’t given way.”
Her mother put her hands on her hips and clucked her tongue. “Where was Mrs. Bunbury when this was going on?”
Jane nearly winced. “Mrs. Bunbury was there. She approved. It was all in good fun.”
“I’d like to meet Mrs. Bunbury at the first opportunity.”
“And so you shall,” Jane replied. “She’s, uh, gone off to the village just now, to fetch some supplies for the poultice she’s been using on my ankle. Lucy swears by it.” Must remember to ask Lucy to make me a poultice.
Her mother wrinkled up her nose. “The Morelands don’t have the necessary ingredients for a poultice?”
“Er, not this poultice. I believe it requires eye of newt or something like that.”
Jane’s mother shook her head again. “There you go again with that wild imagination. Gentlemen are rarely interested in ladies who are humorous.”