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At the imperious voice, Alexander stiffened. Asher felt the change and released his grip on the earl, stepping away quickly. He looked at Alexander and must have seen the frustration written on his face and assumed it was directed toward him. With confusion in his eyes, he darted behind Jane’s skirts, leaving Alexander all the more incensed over the interruption.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Pinnock,” he said, making little effort to hide his irritation. “Miss Pinnock.”

The redheaded young lady had the grace to blush, and he wondered if she’d been forced into seeking him out much as he’d been forced into accepting his mother’s calculated guest list.

“You have proven to be most elusive this afternoon, my lord. Arabella has been longing to speak to you about the divine gardens you have here at Bloxley Hall,” Mrs. Pinnock said. “I told her I was quite sure you would be happy to give her a tour if you only knew of her interest.”

Miss Pinnock’s blush deepened.

“I fear you have been misled, ma’am,” he said. “I would be hard-pressed to tell the difference between a daisy and a tulip. My mother is the expert when it comes to the Bloxley Hall gardens, and I believe you will find her near the marquee on the lawn. I have no doubt she would be happy to arrange for one of the gardeners to identify any number of plants for Miss Pinnock.” He inclined his head toward the women. “And now, if you will excuse me, ladies, there is a young man to whom I must speak rather urgently.” He swung around to reassure Asher that he had done nothing wrong, but to his dismay the child was gone. And so, too, was Jane.

“Well!” Mrs. Pinnock filled the one word with the full extent of her affront and displeasure.

“Mother, please.” Behind him, Miss Pinnock was attempting to placate the insulted matron. “We interrupted the earl when he was speaking with someone else. He has every right to cut his conversation with us short.”

Mrs. Pinnock’s indignant response was lost on Alexander. He was already striding back toward the lawn, scouring the crowds for a beautiful young lady in a pale-green gown and a small, dark-haired boy.

Chapter 21

Jane stood at the window in the drawing room of Charwell Park the next morning and watched the clouds scudding across the sky. Lady Bloxley had chosen the day for her picnic well. Yesterday’s blue skies were gone, and if the ache in Jane’s leg was any indication, there would be rain by nightfall.

“I shall not know what to do with myself now that Lady Bloxley’s picnic is over,” Phoebe said with a dramatic sigh. “It was quite the most wonderful day of the whole year.”

Jane smiled at her sister, who was sitting next to their mother on the sofa and was studying her needlework despondently. Phoebe had spent most of her time at Bloxley Hall making new friends amongst the young ladies and gentlemen—several of whom had seemed most enamored with the new, young resident of Charwell Park. It was no wonder that the prospect of a gray day indoors was causing her to feel glum.

Their mother reached out and patted Phoebe’s knee encouragingly. “Do not fret, my dear. It would not surprise me in the least if some of the new friends you made yesterday come visiting.” She smiled hopefully. “Perhaps one or two of the gentlemen, in particular.”

Jane was glad that at least one member of the household had enjoyed the outing the day before. Aunt Millward was still abovestairs nursing an injury she sustained while playing battledore and shuttlecock. Why the older woman had chosen to play a game usually reserved for younger people was quite beyond Jane, but whatever the reason, she had a sore arm to show for it.

Asher had yet to bounce back from his perceived rejection by Alexander. Jane had tried convincing him that the earl’s response had assuredly been caused by Mrs. and Miss Pinnock’s interruption rather than to his embrace, but the child would not be persuaded. His hero had rebuffed him, and he was crushed. Jane had led Asher away, concerned that even if Mrs. Pinnock deigned to acknowledge the child, she would be more disparaging than uplifting in her comments. The pretentious woman was not known for her kindness.

She had hoped that Alexander would seek them out afterward, but soon after they returned to their picnic blanket, her father had declared it time to return home. He had seen enough sun, and the discomfort in Aunt Millward’s arm was worsening by the minute. Although her mother and Phoebe had been disappointed by their early departure, Jane had been secretly glad. As used as she was to being overlooked at social functions, this one had been more painful than normal. And she had a tired and crestfallen little boy to take to bed.

An unexpected knock on the door drew the attention of all three ladies. Albert walked in and bowed.

“Lord Bloxley is here, ma’am,” he said.

Jane’s mother instantly sat a little taller and gave Phoebe an “I told you so” look. “Well, send him in, by all means.”

Alexander was here. Jane pressed a hand to her stomach, attempting to quell the churning. Surely it was nothing to be overly excited about. After all, he had not yet made a formal visit to Charwell Park. She moved away from the window but had not quite reached the armchair when Alexander walked in. Her mother and Phoebe stood, and all three curtsied.

“Welcome, Lord Bloxley,” her mother said. “How lovely to see you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hadford.” He bowed politely to her, then turned and did the same to Phoebe and Jane. “Miss Hadford. Jane.”

Jane’s eyes flew to his, shocked that he had chosen to use her given name in this setting. By the looks on their faces, her mother and sister were equally astounded. Neither of them knew of the time she and Alexander had spent together, of the letters they had exchanged, or of the mystery surrounding Miss Brown’s child and the Foundling Hospital boys they had teamed up to solve.

“Please.” Her mother sat and gestured toward a chair across from her and next to the one Jane had just claimed. “Do sit down, and I shall call for some tea.”

“We were just saying how much we all enjoyed the picnic at Bloxley Hall, my lord,” Phoebe said.

Jane studied her clasped hands. She would not look at him. Quite apart from the fact that he cut far too fine a figure in his dark-blue jacket, tan breeches, and black boots, she could not allow him to see that she did not share Phoebe’s enthusiasm for the event. After all, her and Asher’s disappointment that they had not been granted more time with him was of their own making. Logically, Jane knew that Alexander was obligated to mingle with all his guests; unfortunately, her heart did not listen well to logic.

“My mother will be pleased to hear it,” Alexander said. “I had nothing to do with the production and, therefore, can take no credit whatsoever. For my part, I found the vast number of people there made it difficult to single out those with whom I would have wished to spend more time.”

Jane’s palms were sweating, but wiping them on her blue silk would only make her agitation more obvious. She slid them to her sides and set them upon the brocade chair covers.

“I have no doubt all your guests understood your dilemma, my lord.” Her mother smiled pleasantly. “Surely no one lacked for company in such a large gathering. I myself spent a delightful time conversing with some of the other ladies, and Mr. Hadford left the place with the names of several gentlemen set upon hunting together later in the year.”