To Love a Lord (9 page)

Chloe returned her attention to her plate. From over the top of her head, he caught Jane’s gaze and lifted his cup in silent challenge. She narrowed her gaze, and then with stiff footsteps made her way to the sideboard. The lady heaped eggs, kippers, ham, and bread atop her plate. His lips twitched at the healthy portion for the trim young woman. His skin pricked and he glanced over at his sister who paused, her fork midway to her mouth, and studied him.

Silence descended upon the breakfast parlor, which with his usually garrulous sister was a rarer occurrence than a solar eclipse. Jane slid into the vacant chair beside Chloe and a footman helped push the chair forward. She gave a murmur of thanks and then, head bowed, proceeded to butter that warm, flaky bread just as she’d done yesterday morn.

Gabriel settled back in his seat and cradled his cup between his hands. He eyed Jane over the rim. In the two days with which to develop a proper entreaty to put to his sister regarding Jane’s suitability as a companion, she was now silent. He broke the impasse. “I trust you’ve had several days to resolve yourself to the necessity of a companion, Chloe. As you are in the market for a husband, it is essential you,”
we
, “have a proper,” at his sidelong glance, Jane’s frown deepened, “companion.”

Chloe finished her bite and then dabbed her lips with the edge of her white napkin. “There is no need for a companion.” She paused. “I’ve resolved that your presence will suffice.” She cast a sheepish glance at Jane. “I mean no offense, Mrs. Munroe. I simply do not need you.” With those six words, she severed Jane’s connection to his household.

Jane politely inclined her head in acknowledgement. For a moment, panic flared to life in those expressive, crystalline eyes, and the depth of emotion there froze him. The fear and desperation there went beyond mere pride. She opened her mouth, as though prepared to launch a defense, but then her lower lip quivered. The muscles of his stomach clenched and he hated he’d noted that slight tremble, but there it was. And it could not be unseen. Through the young woman’s tumult, Chloe attended her breakfast, unknowing that she’d ultimately decided Jane’s fate.

The matter of Jane and her position as companion to Chloe was at last settled. As he’d demanded from the onset, Jane would board his carriage and return to her post at Mrs. Belden’s. So why did that prospect cause this odd, empty, bereft feeling in his chest? Where was the earlier victory? The elation? He stared at the contents of his plate.

“Despite your hopes and expectations for me,” his sister spoke, bringing his head up. “I am not in the market for a husband.” Those words were said to both of them. With the same show of defiance she’d practiced since she was a mere girl, she pursed her lips and favored Gabriel with a glower. “I’ve no intention of marrying.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Jane sit forward in her seat, as though intrigued by his sister’s bold pronouncement.

Oh, bloody hell. He fought back a groan. Chloe would have this discussion again. Jane forgotten, Gabriel finished his coffee and set the cup aside. He waved off the servant who rushed forward to refill his cup and settled his elbows upon the table. “Chloe, you are one and twenty, nearly two and twenty,” he continued when she made to speak. “With several days in which to consider our last exchange, surely you see the necessity in securing a husband. I have already assured you, the man chosen will be honorable, caring, and considerate.”

“The man chosen?” His sister gaped at him.

What was it with young women and parroting back a person’s words?

Jane hopped to her feet so suddenly, the crystal clattered noisily on the table.

He spared a distracted glance for the young woman whose kiss had stolen his logic and, for that maddening loss of control, a reason he needed her gone. For a moment, he thought she intended to do precisely that. To turn, abandon the table, collect her valise, and then be gone. Forever. A vise squeezed his lungs. He tugged at his cravat. The blasted fabric was too tight, was all.

Instead, she made for the sideboard once more. He cast a glance down at her untouched plate and the impressive mound of breakfast meats and pastries and eggs she’d assembled.

“And I’ve told you, I do not want that.”

Gabriel jerked his head around to look at his sister. He really should do a better job of attending. Yes, Mrs. Munroe could not be gone soon enough.

“Do pay attention, Gabriel.” He winced as Chloe rapped him in the knuckles. “If you are going to speak on a matter of import, such as my marital state, then at the very least you can pay attention to me while I speak.”

Ah, yes. The business of finding her a husband. As he’d seen few results in ordering her about over the years, now he gentled his tone and appealed to her sister’s reason. “All I ask is for you to trust me and allow me select your husband as I did Philippa.”

By the fury lighting Chloe’s eyes, she appreciated his calming tone as much as Jane had two days prior. “I’ve already told you…” Her words trailed off and Gabriel followed her stare.

Jane marched over with an empty plate and thrust it under his nose. He eyed the porcelain dish and then gave her a perplexed look. What was she on about? She shook it at him. “Well, take it.”

And
that
was likely the clipped tone that had earned this woman and every other at Mrs. Belden’s the moniker of dragon. He quickly accepted the dish. “And what would you have me do with this plate, J—” His sister’s eyebrows shot to her hairline and he swiftly amended, “Mrs. Munroe?”

Chloe’s eyes formed perfectly round moons as she alternated her stare between him and Jane Munroe.

A steely glint lit the silver flecks of Jane’s eyes. She lowered her voice. “With such a total lack of faith in your sister’s decision-making on the matter of her future and the man she’d wed or not wed, perhaps you should begin selecting her choices for meals as well.”

Gabriel widened his eyes. By God. Had she just given him a public dressing down? Jane wheeled around and strode toward the door, nothing at all ladylike or Mrs. Belden dragon-like about her pace or furiously frantic movements.
And
she’d dismissed him. How had he ever taken her for a weak-willed, spiritless creature?

Jane stopped suddenly and spun back to face them. Color heightened her cheeks and he braced for her apology. “Forgive me, Lady Chloe.” Chloe? What of his apology? “I am sorry we did not suit and I wish you the best of luck.” She shot a glare in Gabriel’s direction. “With that one.” This time, without a backward stare, she stomped from the room.

The footmen at the back corner of the room shifted back and forth. By the tightly compressed lines of their mouths, they fought off humor.

With a curse, Gabriel grabbed his cup and raised it to his lips. His damned empty cup. He slammed it down with a loud thunk. How dare she enter his home and question his care and regard for his sister? By God, he’d failed his siblings in the past and, as such, he’d committed his life to righting those wrongs, and seeing to their happiness. Now this stranger, with her damned ugly spectacles and her painfully tight chignon, should challenge him for caring?

And then he registered a small laugh. He snapped his gaze toward Chloe, pleased that one of them should find Jane’s antics entertaining. There was solace to at least be found in knowing she was even now packing her hideous brown skirts and apron and preparing to join the other dragons. A growl rumbled from deep within his chest. He grabbed his knife and fork and with a gleeful delight, carved the ham on his plate.

“Gabriel?”

He looked up.

A smile lined his sister’s face—mischievous and coy—and as life had taught him, all things dangerous. “I rather like her a lot.” He stilled. The wheels of his mind turned with a staggering slowness and then roared to life, spinning wildly out of control. Those words. Her enjoyment.
Oh, blast, damn, and double-damn
. “In fact,”
Do not say it. Do not say it.
“Mrs. Munroe will do splendidly as a companion.”

With that, she popped up from her seat and took her leave. Laughter trailed in her wake. Gabriel dropped his head into his hands. What had he done?

J
ane marched through the house. What madness had possessed her to not only return the kiss, but also
crave
the kiss of an insufferably arrogant, condescending, pompous lord such as Gabriel? With each step that carried her away from the breakfast room and above stairs to her private chambers, the more her fury and annoyance grew. This position posed one hope for freedom, and yet, how could she ever dare live beneath the roof of a man who’d disparage the beliefs and hopes of his sister, believing he knew what was right for her? Though if he truly knew, he’d realize that any and all gentlemen were nothing more than priggish, domineering louts who—

“Mrs. Munroe!” The breathless cry brought Jane up short and she stumbled.

She came down hard on her palms and grunted. Pain shot out from the palms of her hands.

“Oh, my!” Chloe Edgerton cried out. “Do forgive me.”

Jane’s cheeks burned with a blend of annoyance, embarrassment, and remembered fury. She sat back on her haunches when the young lady held her fingers out. She eyed her fingertips a moment and then accepted the kind offering. “Thank you,” she said shakily. She’d never possessed the grace that would have earned her a position as companion if it hadn’t been for her father’s insistence.

“Where are you off to?”

Intelligence sparked in Lady Chloe’s eyes, and yet surely, the young woman knew precisely where Jane was headed. Unless this lady, like so many before her, merely toyed with Jane the way she might a bothersome rodent “I was just returning to my chambers,” she said cautiously eying the young lady and braced for a heavy dose of gloating from the woman who no more desired Jane’s presence than Jane did the company of the shrewish Mrs. Belden. When Lady Chloe still remained silent, she added, “If you’ll pardon me, I must see to my belongings.”
And either swallow my pride and contact my father or, well, was there really another option?
She couldn’t very well live on the streets of London. Her gut churned at the prospect of humbling herself before the stranger who’d sired her. She made to step around the young woman.

Gabriel’s sister stepped into her path. “You are not a dragon.”

She cocked her head.

“I daresay you overheard me in the breakfast room. I referred to you as one of Mrs. Belden’s dragons and yet…” She leaned close and peered through squinted eyes, until Jane recoiled under her scrutiny. The young woman gave her head a slow shake. “And yet, I do not believe you are truly one of those dragons.”

Jane thought of the other instructors who’d honorably earned their posts at the finishing school. Always frowning, grim, and determined to train the joy and free-thought out of a young lady’s mind.

“May I walk with you?” Lady Chloe did not wait on a response. She looped her arm through Jane’s. “That was a rather splendid showing.”

Jane cast a glance back at the carpeted floor she’d stumbled upon.

The young lady squeezed her arm. “Not your fall.” She wrinkled her nose. “A fall, which was very much, in fact, my fault. Rather, your exchange with Gabriel, my brother,” she said almost as an afterthought.

She needn’t clarify. Jane knew precisely the gentleman referred to. She’d kissed him quite eagerly in the dead of the night. “It was not my intention to put on any type of show for anyone,” she said quietly as they turned down the corridor and then came to a stop beside the first door—her chambers. Or now, her former chambers. “I—”

“Merely spoke the truth.” A wide smile wreathed Lady Chloe’s heart-shaped face. “My brother is unaccustomed to women who speak their opinions.”

The domineering marquess, who’d first greeted her and summarily dismissed her, slipped into her mind. “I gathered as much,” she muttered.

Lady Chloe tossed her head back on a loud, and a not at all ladylike, laugh that would have made Mrs. Belden cringe with horror. “Oh, you are delightful, Mrs. Munroe.” She leaned around Jane and pressed the door handle. “May I speak to you for a moment?”

“I—” The young woman sailed past her.
Of course, you may
. Jane closed the door behind her and froze.

A determined gleam lit the young woman’s soft blue eyes. “Mrs. Munroe—”

“Jane,” she offered. Lady Chloe Edgerton was not a young lady who’d not yet made her Come Out. She was a woman of one and twenty years. Jane had not been hired as a governess, but rather a companion. Or rather, she had been, before the whole business of being sacked by first the marquess and then his sister.

“You must call me, Chloe.” Gabriel’s sister settled her arms akimbo. “And you’re not leaving,” she said with a firm resolve that increased the beat of Jane’s heart.

Life should have taught her the perils of foolishly dreaming and yet that blasted corner of her heart still filled with optimism and innocence clung to the fragile hope. “I’m not.”

“Oh, no,” Chloe gave a firm shake of her head. She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “Well, at first, I’ll admit, when I learned you were coming from Mrs. Belden’s, I was glad to have you gone.” She claimed Jane’s hands in her own and gave a squeeze. “Now, I would have you stay.”

What would the lady say if she were to discover the nasty headmistress had, in fact, turned her out? Likely she’d name her a forever friend. Since that numbing day in Mrs. Belden’s office, when she’d been sacked from her post and then subsequently stole off and lied her way into Gabriel’s home, terror gripped her. “Thank you,” she said softly.

The young woman applied a gentle pressure to her hands once more and then released her. “He means well. Gabriel,” she clarified and stepped away. She wandered a distracted path around the opulent ivory guest chambers and paused beside the small, mahogany table stacked with Jane’s books. Her lips pulled in a grimace. “He’d have me wed.”

And when that was the goal and expectation for any and every lady in Society, this woman would not. “You would remain unwed, then?” Jane asked, studying the young lady’s distracted movements as she ran her fingertips over the aged and cracked leather volumes.