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A burst of warmth in her chest was like sunshine. She felt light and happy, warm and soaring. She beamed at him as she imagined living in their own home, waking up to him, going to sleep with him. Having family visit. Friends. Going to balls where he wouldn’t need to be embarrassed by her but would be proud she was his wife.

Like he was proud to be with her now.

She wanted to say yes. The word was on her lips. And even though fear started to slowly clench around her heart, she could still imagine saying yes to him. She could imagine being brave and allowing herself to believe that she could be a part of this world.

That she deserved to be with him. That she belonged with him.

That she wasn’t drifting through life anymore but could finally come to shore. And that shore was him.

She smiled at him, a smile that said yes. But out loud, she said, “I haven’t decided yet.”

He beamed a glorious, beautiful smile that made him look like a half god. “So it’s not a no,” he said, satisfied.

“It’s not a no.”

31

During the dance, she never stumbled, never stepped on his toes. They just flew. A few times, she glanced at Calliope, curious to see her with her dance partner. They were a dashing couple, Calliope and Kelford. She in her golden-yellow gown and he in his dark blue coat with the collar and lapels trimmed in gold braid and the cuffs embellished with gold buttons. His blond hair was tied in a tail at the base of his head. Like a lion and a lamb, their eyes never tore away from each other. Calliope’s face was flushed, practically burning with some emotion. Jane had never seen the usually calm and collected Calliope affected like that.

When the dance ended, Richard accompanied Jane through the crowd of guests to the group that almost felt like her second family now. Sebastian and Emma, Preston and Penelope, all smiling warmly at her as though she were an old friend or, indeed, their sister.

With Penelope was a beautiful woman in her fifties, wearing a sapphire-colored gown, who stood next to a tall, balding man. He was dressed very richly, his dark waistcoat sitting well on his still-athletic body. His strikingly blue, narrowly set eyes under stern eyebrows held a cold intensity.

“Miss Grant,” said Penelope as she gestured to the lady and the gentleman. “Allow me to introduce the Duke and the Duchess of Ashton.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Jane. She didn’t have the same feeling of awkwardness and shyness anymore. Another duke and duchess, and yet, she didn’t feel like she wanted to run away and cower.

“The pleasure is ours,” said the duchess with a graceful smile.

“The duchess is a patroness of my art,” said Penelope. “Very kindly.”

“Excuse me,” the Duke of Ashton said and left the group.

As Jane followed him with her gaze, a little surprised at his abrupt departure, she saw that he joined an overweight man with a large belly who wore a black velvet coat heavily embroidered with gold braid. As Ashton said something to him, the man threw his head back and laughed, his long, sharp nose pointing in the air.

“The prince regent…” she murmured.

Richard followed her gaze. “Yes, it’s His Highness.”

The Duke of Ashton and the Prince of Wales were joined by a man in his fifties in a navy uniform with golden epaulets with intricate embroidery featuring stars. Smiling pleasantly to the prince and to the duke, he bowed. Three gold stripes on the sleeves of his uniform coat, indicating he was an admiral, flashed as he put his hand behind the small of his back.

Jane wondered briefly if, perhaps, he could be of help in the search for Spencer. But before she could say anything to Richard, there was a flash of a yellow gown and auburn hair, and Calliope grabbed Jane by her gloved hand. “May I speak with you?” she asked, her eyes burning, her cheeks red.

Jane glanced at Penelope and Emma, both of whom Calliope had known longer, but it seemed both were occupied in conversations. She looked at Richard, who threw a concerned glance over the crowd, probably looking for Kelford.

“Of course you may,” said Jane. “Excuse me, Richard.”

He nodded briefly. “Is everything all right, sister? Did that scoundrel do something?”

“Everything’s fine, brother,” she said. “It’s just a talk between ladies. You’ll be bored to death.”

She pulled Jane to the side, finding a place that was free of people next to the window draped in rich golden curtains. The garden beyond was beautiful with the blue moonlight illuminating blooming peonies, hydrangeas, and delphiniums growing along the paths among the trees. Three matrons sat on a settee, drinking wine and, probably, gossiping, but they were out of earshot.

“What is it?” asked Jane.

Calliope leaned close, her eyes sparkling like two diamonds. “That gentleman…the Duke of Kelford.”

Jane chuckled. “I see how he affected you.”