Free Joan Wolf by A London Season Page B

started well. John Bellerman kept his horse close to Jane's the whole way to Bury St. Edmunds. To the secret delight of the whole Heathfield staff, Anne's eldest brother was obviously smitten by Lady Jane. He followed her around constantly, an expression in his eyes that reminded David of a puppy dog he had once owned. Jane was nice to him in an absent-minded kind of way. She made polite conversation to him now, even though she would have infinitely preferred to be riding behind with David.
    The Marquis watched her surreptitiously. Her obvious indifference worried him. It was not natural for a girl her age to be so immune to the charms of a handsome, personable, twenty-five-year-old man who obviously adored her.
    They dutifully toured the abbey and stopped about halfway back to Heathfield to have their picnic. David found them a pleasant glade and began to unload the phaeton as the others dismounted. The Marquis watched as John Bellerman eagerly rushed to assist Jane to alight from her sidesaddle. There was a suspicious quiver about Jane's narrow, faultless nostrils as she allowed herself to be lifted to the ground. Wordlessly her eyes flew to David, inviting him to share her amusement at Mr. Bellerman's unnecessary solicitude. There was a faintly ironic look in David's amber eyes as they met hers briefly, then they both looked away, their faces identical masks of politeness.
    With a deep frown between his brows the Marquis helped Anne to dismount and moved forward to take charge of the picnic. After they had all eaten, Jane suggested that Lord Rayleigh take Anne and Mr. Bellerman to see a particularly fine view that was about ten minutes’ walk from where they were.
    "You must come too, Lady Jane,” John Bellerman urged.
    She shook her head. “I want to stay here with David,” she said bluntly.
    "Then I shall remain also,” he responded, moving toward where she was sitting on a rug.
    Jane's eyes flashed blue sparks. “I am not going to run away, Mr. Bellerman,” she said, temper in the crisp tones of her voice. “Go with Uncle Edward and your sister. You can see me when you return."
    Lord Rayleigh looked at his niece. “Come along, John,” he said genially. “Jane needs a rest."
    Unwilling, but unable to refuse, Mr. Bellerman trailed sadly off after Lord Rayleigh and Anne. “Honestly!” Jane exploded when they were out of earshot. “He is driving me mad."
    David just laughed. He dropped down beside her and stretched his length comfortably on the rug, leaning up on one elbow. He reached for a stalk of grass and began absently to chew it. A lock of sun-bright hair had fallen forward, half hiding his face. “How's the picture coming?” he asked.
    Jane was painting a picture of Heathfield to give to Lord Rayleigh as a wedding present. It was a secret; only David knew about it. With a comfortable sigh she wrapped her arms around her updrawn knees and preceded to tell him about it.
    The Marquis and his party were back much too quickly, she thought impatiently as she heard the sound of voices coming nearer. She shot a look at David from under her lashes and swore. He did not reply but, nearly imperceptibly, he smiled at her.
    Lord Rayleigh had taken Mr. Bellerman with him because he recognized in Jane's face and voice the signs of an impending explosion. However, he had no intention of staying away for any length of time and, as his feelings were shared by both brother and sister, they soon retraced their steps to the glade. Anne and her brother went first and Lord Rayleigh kept his eyes on Mr. Bellerman as they returned. He was handsome, well-born, and well-mannered, the sort of eligible man most young girls dreamed about.
    What was the matter with Jane, her uncle thought. He was beginning to be afraid that Anne had been right about David.
    As they came into the clearing David rose to his feet, holding a hand out to Jane with the ease of long familiarity. To the Marquis's newly opened eyes the unspoken intimacy that