Once again, Jane caught sight of Sophia and Philip, fair heads bent close, laughing at something Philip had just said. She felt a pang.
‘Would it not be more beneficial for Lord Philip to choose his own bride, sir?’ she said, a little desperately. ‘He might feel a greater commitment to the match under those circumstances!’
‘Happily, his wishes need not concern us,’ the Duke said a little grimly. ‘You are my choice, Miss Verey, and Philip knows it well! The financial rewards of such a marriage are his prime consideration!’
Jane could feel her temper slipping at his arrogance. ‘But they need not be mine, I thank you, sir!’
The Duke laughed a little harshly. ‘No, but there are other levers…I have immense social power, Miss Verey. A word here, a hint there…A reputation is so fragile. Think of the distress to your mother if doors were to be closed to you. I am persuaded that you would not want that. And Miss Marchment…she would be tainted by association, of course.’
Jane looked at him for a long time in silence. She could hear the music sweeping on in the background but it was as though she and Alex Delahaye were quite alone. His face was expressionless.
‘I do believe that you are threatening me, sir,’ she said slowly. ‘Despite our differences I had considered you a man of integrity, but perhaps I mistake you. And I should warn you that I am not easily susceptible to coercion!’
‘No, that was clumsy of me,’ Alex agreed affably. ‘I would not stoop so low, Miss Verey, and I beg your pardon. But perhaps you are more amenable to persuasion from your own family? Investment in Ambergate would be a great help to your brother. Were we to be related, I could assist him…’
Jane glared at him. ‘I saw the ease with which you had gained his confidence! Simon does not deserve false friendship!’
The Duke’s arm tightened about her waist. Jane felt quite breathless, as though the music was whirling faster and faster.
‘Oh, my friendship would be offered in earnest,’ he said pleasantly. ‘I have the greatest respect for your brother and would never offer him Spanish coin! I only wished to point out to you that there are different ways to influence a situation! I must warn you to beware of crossing swords with me, Miss Verey. You cannot possibly win…’
Jane was rather afraid that he was correct. The combined wishes of the Duke and Lady Verey would be difficult to oppose, particularly if he enlisted the support of Lady Eleanor Fane and Simon as well. Together they could chip away at her resistance, ignoring her wishes in their desire to achieve a mutually beneficial alliance. Jane caught sight of Lady Jersey’s fascinated face as she watched them from the edge of the dance floor. She manufactured a dazzling smile. ‘I shall bear your warning in mind, sir!’
‘I am still curious, Miss Verey,’ Alex said slowly. ‘You seem most adamant in your refusal to wed. Can it be that your affections are already engaged?’
‘No, sir,’ Jane said steadily. ‘They are not.’
‘Then perhaps you are of a romantical disposition? A pity-I should have thought you much more practical than that! I did not expect sentiment from you!’
‘I do not consider it sentimental to expect to make a match where mutual respect, if not love, is present,’ Jane said hotly. She seemed to have stumbled from one conflict directly into another! Would this wretched dance never end? She could hardly walk off the floor in the middle of a waltz. ‘Perhaps it is your Grace whose ideas of marriage are prejudiced! Your own experience, perhaps, has led you to reject romantic love out of hand!’
She knew that she had overstepped the mark even before the flash in those dark eyes suggested that she had hit a raw nerve. Madeline Delahaye and her notorious infidelities were common knowledge amongst the ton, but Jane knew it had been ill bred in the extreme to speak of it to the Duke. She closed her eyes briefly and awaited the set-down she knew that she deserved. It was one thing to engage in a spirited defence of her own ideals and behaviour, but quite another to touch on his personal tragedy.
‘Perhaps you are right, Miss Verey,’ the Duke of Delahaye said bitterly. His mouth was set in a tight, angry line, but Jane could read unhappiness in his face and felt a sudden uprush of misery. It had never occurred to her that he might have loved his wife so much that she still had the power to hurt him eight years after her death. And then that she had so carelessly raked up matters best left undisturbed…
‘I am sorry-’ She began, only to be harshly overruled in tones that held more passion than anything that had gone before.
‘Do not be, Miss Verey! Do not seek to pity me! I do not require that from you!’
Jane felt close to tears. It was bad enough to be thought deceitful without Alex Delahaye believing that she had deliberately sought to hurt him. She would have tried to apologise once more, but there was something in his harsh, set expression that forbade it.
The music finished and Jane dropped a very deep curtsy. She found that she was shaking from their encounter, an explosive mix of anger and misery flooding through her. Part of her was burning with fury at Alex’s high-handed behaviour and part was ashamed of what she had said to him. Yet her overriding feeling was shock at the sheer physical impact he had made on her. It was very distressing. Worse was the fact that she could not retire, could not escape the prying eyes and intrusive questions of her companions. Her dance card was full and she had to smile through the rest of the evening. She even had to smile when Lord Philip sulkily and belatedly presented himself for a country dance. By the end of the evening, Jane was wishing the entire Delahaye family to perdition along with the rest of polite society.
Alexander Delahaye, strolling back to Haye House in the early hours beneath an absurdly romantic full moon, found himself beset by various unfamiliar emotions. He had declined an invitation to return to Brooks with Simon and Henry, but had agreed to meet them there the following evening. Just now he was aware only of a need for solitude.
Miss Jane Verey…She had practically ignored him after their passage of arms during the waltz and he could not blame her for it. He was deeply ashamed of his behaviour towards her and considered it unforgivable. One did not go to Almack’s in the expectation of threats and bullying. Miss Verey was young and inexperienced and, whatever she had done, she did not deserve to be treated so harshly.
The trouble was that she had read him all too well. It was true that he had been angry because she had overset his plans. Alex’s calculations had not allowed for Jane’s feelings at all, but now that he had met her he could ignore her no longer. Ignore her! He gave a mirthless laugh. There was no possibility of that!
Alex squared his shoulders. He was unaccustomed to being made to feel guilty. Miss Verey had done that and had made him question his own judgement into the bargain! Well, Philip had to marry; he was still resolved on that. The Verey match had been his grandfather’s dearest wish and who better to manage Philip than a girl who had already shown her quick wit and devious ways? Besides, he was persuaded that Miss Jane Verey would soon relent. A spell in Town would make her realise that Philip was quite a good catch. All young ladies were anxious to marry well, after all, and why should Miss Verey be different? A show of reluctance was probably required for form’s sake, but would be followed by meek acquiescence.
The matter was settled. Alex let out a long breath. He would continue to promote the betrothal, although perhaps in a more subtle way. Miss Verey would soon conform and then all this fuss could be forgotten. Alex frowned. The decision should have cleared his mind, but for some reason he still felt vaguely dissatisfied. This had to be Jane Verey’s fault in some vague way that he could not specify. What a stubborn and opinionated chit! Who would have thought that the henwitted Clarissa Verey would have bred so unconventional a daughter?