Free The Perfect Lady Worthe by Rose Gordon

reprieve for what it was, he considered joining Holbrook on the balcony. Had he not had something else to fixate his interest on, thus making the horrendous noise more tolerable, he’d have gone home after the fourth bar. But he did find something of interest, and for the sheer pleasure of being able to get his fill of Jane’s perfect form, he stayed rooted to that uncomfortable chair until the final C was screeched out by the young man dressed as a canary.
    Applause, undeniably borne of sympathy, filled the room for but a moment before everyone carried out the same goal: get out of the room with instruments as quickly as possible to avoid being tortured any longer.
    Gareth stood and moved off to the side.
    In the corner, Jemma, Charlotte, and Jane remained seated amid the chaos.
    From where he stood, Gareth couldn’t hear what was being said, but Jemma’s hand gestures told him enough. She was expecting Charlotte and Jane to stay there for a moment. Gareth knit his brow. Where was Jemma going?
    Just then, one of the musicians, the skinny one with spots, gripped the back of Jane’s chair and shoved it forward.
    Jane lurched forward, and simultaneously, so did Gareth’s heart.
    “I’ll take that,” Gareth said tightly, reaching for Jane’s chair.
    Jane turned her head to face him, shocked. She schooled her features and offered him what he interpreted as a grateful smile.
    He smiled in return. “Where shall I escort thee, Miss Cavanaugh?”
    “Wherever my sister would like to go.” She turned to her sister. “Charlotte?”
    Charlotte bit her lip. “Mrs. Fairchilde.”
    Jemma wrung her hands. “See… um…” She moved her hands to idly run her fingertips over the strap of her reticule, and gave a quick glance in the direction of the salon across the hall where all the other guests were congregating.
    Dread built in Gareth’s stomach as understanding settled over him. Charlotte and Jemma wanted to go mingle with the other guests, but with such a crush it’d be hard for Jane’s chair to navigate the crowd with them. That’d leave her to have to sit alone in the corner. A bitter taste filled his mouth.
    “Go on, then,” Jane said suddenly, as if she’d just puzzled it out as well. “I’d rather not be forced to stare at the bottoms of such a large crowd anyway.”
    Jemma’s mouth fell open.
    Charlotte’s face flamed red.
    And for as much as he tried to hold it inside, Gareth chuckled. She did have a point.
    “Jane,” Jemma said coldly. “Be mindful—”
    “There’s no use, Mrs. Fairchilde,” Charlotte cut in. “Jane thinks it’s the privilege of her throne chair to say such scandalous things.”
    “Well, it’s the only privilege I have,” Jane replied quietly.
    Gareth’s heart squeezed painfully for her. Even she thought marriage wasn’t in her future. “You two are missing prime husband-seeking time,” he said, reaching for an empty chair nearby. “Don’t worry about Miss Cavanaugh, she’ll have her own handsome gentleman to keep her company.”
    Quickly, too quickly, for Gareth’s liking, the pair was arm in arm and making their way to the others. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend time with Jane—he certainly did. But no good could come of it.
    “I hope you don’t mind…” Gareth placed the chair near Jane then took a seat.
    “No, not at all.”
    Gareth smoothed his hair, unsure what to say to her. Her expression seemed cool and impassive, but even he knew that had to be a veneer. Nobody would be unaffected by the exchange that had just taken place. He cleared his throat. “Would you like to play cards?”
    “Oh, I didn’t see any card tables.”
    “That’s because they weren’t set up.” He reached a long arm over toward another empty chair and gripped the seat, then pulled. “We shall set up our own.”
    Jane smiled at him. A true smile. One that sent a jolt of lightning straight to his groin.
    Shifting uncomfortably, he reached into his breast pocket and