When to Engage an Earl by Sally MacKenzie

Author:Sally MacKenzie [MacKenzie, Sally]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2017-05-29T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Loves Bridge, Mid-February 1818

Jane stood in the Spinster House study, books to her left, old harpsichord to her right, and looked out on the bleak landscape. The garden that had been so green and wild in the late spring and summer was shriveled and dead in the chill, gray February light.

She felt a bit shriveled and gray and dead, too.

Poppy jumped up on the window seat in front of her and leaned over to butt her head against Jane’s limp hand.

“Oh, Poppy.” She started stroking the cat. As her fingers moved rhythmically over the soft fur, the knot in her chest began to loosen.

She knew part of what was causing her low spirits. She wasn’t lonely, precisely, but she definitely missed her friends. Anne had moved away entirely, and Cat might just as well have, being so busy at the castle.

No, that wasn’t quite it, either. Jane had been avoiding Cat, because, well, she didn’t want to talk about babies. Even Randolph and Imogen were infant-mad.

She liked her independent, orderly existence. She was in complete control of her days. She arrived at Randolph’s office precisely at the same time every morning and left at the same time in the evening. She set her schedule at the lending library. She ate what she wished when she wished. If she wanted to go to bed early, she did—or she could stay up most of the night reading. No one would comment or complain or offer any sort of an opinion on her choices.

Well, no one but Poppy.

But if she had a husband, she’d have to consider his wishes. Even worse, husbands led to babies—she had plenty of evidence of that around her, didn’t she? And then her precious independence would fly out the window. Babies ruled a mother’s life completely.

“Being independent needn’t mean being lonely, Poppy.”

“Merrow.”

Of course Poppy would agree. Cats were at heart solitary creatures. Jane just needed to find new friends, people she could discuss books and current events and other non-baby topics with. But who was there? Loves Bridge was a small village. Every woman her age was married, and she certainly couldn’t join a group of men.

And that made her think of Lord Evans. She’d thought of him rather too often since she’d come home from Chanton Manor.

Of course she had. He was an intelligent, articulate man. It was a pleasure to converse with him.

And he made her feel oddly alive.

What would have happened if I hadn’t stopped his kiss in the garden?

An unpleasant mixture of regret, desire, and nerves twisted in her chest.

She made a dismissive sound and looked away from the window. The reason for her blue-devils was clear—and it had nothing to do with the earl. A dark sadness permeated the entire country. They’d only just put aside formal mourning for Princess Charlotte, who had died three months earlier after giving birth to a stillborn son. The succession was in shambles. The three royal dukes who were free to marry were scrambling to find a wife and produce a child.

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