Lord Garson’s Bride: A passionate Regency romance novel by Anna Campbell

Author:Anna Campbell [Campbell, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: dp books
Published: 2024-12-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

Despite finding Hugh’s friends much less daunting than she’d feared, Jane was uneasy about coping with Caro, Helena, and Fenella on her own. It wasn’t just that she felt like an outsider in a group of women who were such close and long-term friends. She was afraid that now the men had gone, the ladies might bring up the one name that had hovered, resonant because unspoken, all evening.

Damn it, she didn’t want to talk about Morwenna. In fact, she’d be overjoyed if the unknown but clearly peerless Mrs. Nash sank into a bog, never to be seen again.

Even as these thoughts arose, she knew they were unworthy. But that didn’t mean she intended to spend her first night out in London, listening to how wonderful Morwenna was and how she’d broken Hugh’s heart.

Once everyone found their places around the fire, she pre-empted the conversation before it could veer toward Hugh’s lost love. “Helena, I’d love to know the name of your modiste. I adore that dress, and I’ll need a new wardrobe if Hugh’s planning to join the social whirl.”

Helena smiled at Jane from where she sat on the sofa near the window. She was drinking port, while Fenella had served tea to everyone else. Jane suffered a moment’s curiosity as to why Caro didn’t play hostess in her own home, but didn’t know these women well enough to ask. “It’s natural that he wants to show off his new bride.”

How Jane wished she merited showing off. Then she reminded herself that she’d renounced self-pity. Since she’d discovered her husband was mad for her, her confidence had advanced in leaps and bounds. It was forgivable to feel a little wobbly here, because of Morwenna’s ghost and because she hated what she was wearing, but now was the time to put her nerves away.

“Then I need something better than this.” She glanced down at the wasp dress, which created a vile clash with her chair’s orange and green striped upholstery. “My sister Susan says it’s the last word in style, but I don’t think it suits me at all.”

“Your sister is Lady Bacon, isn’t she?” Caro asked from her place beside Helena on the sofa. She tactfully avoided remarking on the dress, Jane noted.

Helena frowned. “I remember your sister made a great splash when she was introduced to London.”

Wry fondness curved Jane’s lips. “She’s always been the beauty in the family.”

“I wouldn’t say that’s true, Jane.” Fenella subjected her to a thorough inspection. “You’re lovely, although in a very different style. No wonder Garson is so besotted.”

Jane stifled a snort of derisive laughter. Her husband might want her, but nobody in their right mind would believe his feelings extended past that. Still, Fenella was generous to try to make her feel better.

“You are pretty,” Caro said, saving Jane from summoning a response to Fenella’s remark that combined discretion and truth. An impossible task, she couldn’t help thinking. “But a different color might work better, if you don’t mind my saying.

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