Page 40 of The Favourite

Jane took a deep breath. “Merely that having observed us both and consulted with his instructors, he had determined Helen held all the promise for a glittering match.” She was pleased to hear her voice was steady, not showing any foolish hurt after all this time. “It was hardly a surprise,” she added frankly. “My sister was always more beauteous and cleverer than I. I knew that long before I reached the age of thirteen. Neither of us was shocked by his words.”

“Now that is more like it,” he uttered approvingly. “Such composure and sense. Truly, womanly virtues to aspire to.” He lapsed into silence for a moment. “For all that, I expect your aunt preferred you.”

Jane huffed with irritation. “Well, you suppose wrong,” she said roundly. “My sister was perfectly charming to a miserable invalid. She brought laughter and amusement to her sickroom while I stood awkwardly by and bleated platitudes.”

He laughed at that. “I have never met a charming thirteen-year-old, and if I did, I would be extremely wary of them.”

“My sister was twelve at the time.”

“I was not talking of your sister.”

Jane sighed. “You are so—”

“What? Tell me.”

“Maddening!” she burst out, turning on him. “Why are you always thus with me? Why must you poke and prod at me until I am ready to burst?”

He laughed. “Do you really want to know?” he asked, the laughter suddenly gone from his voice. There was a challenge in his voice that made her suddenly breathless. “Because I don’t know if you’re ready for it, Jane.” Something about his tone made the words stick in her throat. Finding her quiet and still, he leaned in close. “I have a confession to make,” he whispered, his words tickling her ear. “It matters not one bit how open you are with me, Jane, it is not enough.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, resisting the impulse to scratch her ear.

“It means that everything you do and say intrigues me, and my appetite for all things Jane grows at a monstrous pace.”

She had to bite back a gasp. “I don’t know what you—?”

“On the morrow,” he continued coolly, ignoring her interruption. “I shall look up Mertford on a map, just so I can better picture youthful Jane in her original setting.”

“What?” she gasped. “Why on earth—?”

“Then I shall send out enquiries,” he continued thoughtfully, “for anyone who can give me a first-hand account of your time there.”

“No one in the vicinity would even remember me!” she burst out, appalled. “I was entirely forgettable as a child. You surely do not mean to bother my mother and her household?” She quavered as the horrible thought occurred to her. My gods, what would everyone at Mertford make of this husband of hers?

He laughed under his breath. “What a charming notion. Is it possible you have not yet informed your mother of our recent union? How unfilial of you! Or …” he said, drawing out the word, “is it possible you would be ashamed of me, Jane?”

“Of course not! It’s not that! I wrote her a very brief note before we left the palace.” She really did not know why she was so vehement in her denial, but hearing his chuckle relieved her. She huffed out an indignant breath. “But you knew that already. Sometimes …”

“Sometimes, what?” he asked, sounding intrigued. “Tell me.”

“Sometimes, I feel exactly like a struggling mouse under your cat’s paw!”

“Ah, but the truth is, you hold all the power in this little game of ours,” he murmured. “You are just too blinkered to notice the fact.” Jane caught her breath. “Though you were right about one thing,” he said thoughtfully. “I do want to poke and prod you until you burst. I have a notion; the view will be spectacular.”

“View? What view?” She felt completely at sea by this point.

He reached out and patted her knee, making her jump. “Rest assured; I will wait for the right time. Lie back for now and breathe easy.”

She would never sleep after all that stimulation, Jane was sure. Still, following his directions, she lowered herself onto the mattress and, after a while, sleep did come. When next she woke, it was to find she had overslept and the hour much later than customary. Moreover, she was lay in the bed alone.

12

Jane spent the next hour scrambling to catch up on the time she had lost. The house was strangely quiet. It took her a while even to summon a servant to fetch her water to wash and dress. When she asked for Beth, the maid looked uncomfortable and said she knew not where to find her at this hour, for the house was “quite turned upside down with all the doings.”

Jane gave up and made do with the girl’s offices, though she needed a good deal of instruction, and at the end of it, Jane had to pin her own veil over her hair which was far from its usual standard. By the time she ventured below stairs, it was surely after eleven.

The whole household should have been up and about; however, the place seemed practically deserted. Jane took a seat near the fire and reflected on how dissatisfactory everything at Kinnerton was. Hearing a footfall, she turned her head and found Alisander gliding into the Great Hall from the opposite direction.

“Ah, there you are,” he hailed her. He was as beautifully turned out as ever in a forest green tunic, trimmed with gold braid, though he wore no jewels this morning.