entangled in the cart’s left wheel, and felt herself dragged to the ground. It all seemed to happen in the blink of an eye before Jane could scramble back to safety.
‘Oh!’ It was Jane’s dignity that had suffered most, but tears of shock swam in her eyes. Her hands felt bruised from the sudden contact with the ground and she had bumped one knee painfully as she fell. Tumbled in the gutter in a heap of petticoats and rubbish, she struggled to recover herself.
‘Allow me to help you, ma’am.’ A quiet voice spoke in her ear at the same time as the gentleman slid a supportive hand under her elbow and helped her to her feet. ‘Are you injured at all?’
Jane looked up and experienced her second shock. This time there could be no mistake. It was certainly the man that she had seen at Ambergate, though this time more formally dressed in immaculate buckskins, top-boots and a mulberry-coloured jacket. At such close quarters he was disturbingly attractive, a man quite outside Jane’s limited experience. He was certainly handsome, with wicked, dark good looks that quite took her breath away, but there was a rather austere expression in those very dark eyes that contradicted the impression of slightly rakish attraction. There was also an aura of strength about him and an impression of power held under tight control that was instantly reassuring.
He was holding her very gently with an arm supporting her about the waist and there was concern in his face and something else…an extraordinary tenderness, surely, that made Jane feel suddenly faint. She swayed a little and his arm tightened.
‘You should sit down, I think, to recover from the shock. Where did your companions go?’
‘I thank you, sir, I am quite well,’ Jane said shakily, catching sight of her mother’s face peering in horror through the shop window. The carter chose the same moment to start justifying himself to the gathering crowd. His diatribe on foolish young women who did not look where they were going was silenced by one glance from the gentleman.
Jane realised that she was bruised but not badly injured. She felt foolish and embarrassed. She noticed that one of her hands was resting confidingly against the lapel of the mulberry jacket, whilst the gentleman’s arm still held her close. It was most comforting, but surely rather improper. Dark eyes smiled down into her hazel ones. Jane felt her knees tremble again.
‘Thank you for your help, sir,’ she said again, trying to extricate herself. ‘You have been most kind, and I am quite well enough to-’
‘Jane!’ Lady Verey and Sophia came dashing out of the shop, accompanied by the modiste and half of the staff, adding to the confusion on the pavement. The carthorse started to stamp and rear, disturbed by the noise. Sophia helpfully removed a cabbage leaf from her friend’s skirt.
‘Jane!’ Lady Verey said again. ‘Are you hurt? Whatever has happened-’ She broke off, staring in sudden confusion at the gentleman. ‘Your Grace!’
The gentleman removed his arm from Jane’s waist at last and executed a bow. ‘Lady Verey. How do you do, ma’am.’ Jane thought that she could detect the very slightest hint of rueful amusement in his voice. ‘I do not believe that Miss Verey has come to any lasting harm, but perhaps she should be conveyed home for a rest. I shall call a hack for you.’
‘Yes of course, but-’ Lady Verey’s gaze was darting from Jane to her rescuer. ‘I had no notion that you were the gentleman who had come to Jane’s rescue. We had no idea that you were even in Town! Is your brother with you? You must permit us to call and express our sense of obligation-’
‘Of course, ma’am, I should be delighted.’ The gentleman cut her short in the politest, most deferential manner possible. ‘I shall not detain you any longer. Good day…’
He bowed again and the crowd parted to let him pass as though obeying some unspoken authority. The cart pulled away and a hackney cab took its place. Jane, bewildered and shaken, allowed Sophia to help her solicitously inside.
‘Who was that gentleman, ma’am?’ she heard Sophia ask Lady Verey as the cab set off in the direction of Portman Square. ‘He seemed quite…’ Sophia hesitated, but Jane knew just what she meant. The gentleman in question had seemed quite awesome. She felt again the power of his glance, the tender strength with which he had held her. Jane shivered.
‘That was the Duke of Delahaye,’ Lady Verey was saying composedly, ‘the elder brother of Lord Philip. Jane…’ she saw her daughter’s pale, stricken face ‘…are you sure that you are quite well? You must go to bed as soon as we reach home or you will not be well enough for Almack’s this evening! I am sure that the accident must have overset you!’
‘Yes, Mama,’ Jane said submissively. ‘I confess I feel a little shaken.’
‘Well, perhaps we should not go tonight-’ Lady Verey broke off, looking torn. ‘But on the other hand it could be construed as a snub to the patronesses…oh, dear, how provoking! I do not know what to do!’
‘I shall be better directly, Mama!’ Jane said, leaning back and closing her eyes. ‘I pray you, do not consider cancelling our attendance…’
‘I had no notion that the Duke was in Town,’ Lady Verey said, smoothing her gloves. ‘He is seldom in London, you know, for he much prefers the country!’ She frowned. ‘How odd! And how curious that he should be passing just when you fell, Jane!’
Jane, remembering the way in which the Duke of Delahaye had stood watching her from across the road, was tempted to say that he had hardly been passing. She held her peace. The whole episode had been most disconcerting. Why had the Duke been watching her beforehand and what could account for her strange reaction to him? The colour flooded her face as she remembered the sensation of his arm about her. She had met plenty of personable gentlemen in the past week, but never before had she been so aware of a man’s touch. She closed her eyes. It was best to forget it, best to forget him. It seemed that, between them, the Delahaye brothers were causing her nothing but trouble.
It was Simon Verey who heard the rumours first. Whilst the ladies were out shopping he had had a meeting with Pettishaw, his man of business, and had then spent a convivial afternoon with Lord Henry Marchnight, one of his oldest friends. They had met by chance at Tattersall’s and, as the evening advanced, made their way to Brooks.
‘Covered yourself with glory on campaign, I hear,’ Henry said with a lazy grin, after they had tried the claret and considered it more than tolerable. ‘Whatever will you find to do with yourself here that could compare?’
Simon laughed. ‘I intend to enjoy the pleasures of Town for a little, then turn into the complete country squire! Ambergate will be back in good order soon, but I don’t want to be an absentee landlord for too long!’
‘A country squire needs a wife and brood to look the part!’ Henry observed. ‘Plenty of pretty girls out this Season!’
Simon grimaced. ‘So my mama keeps reminding me! She is forever pushing likely heiresses under my nose! It will be a little while yet before I set up my nursery, though I don’t deny I’m looking out for a potential bride!’ He shot his friend a look. ‘If Mama becomes too pressing I suppose I could always offer my hand and heart to Lady Polly Seagrave-’
Lord Henry’s gaze narrowed. ‘She wouldn’t have you! Lady Polly has just turned down her seventh suitor this Season!’
‘And it would be a shame to ruin our good friendship,’ Simon murmured, signalling for more wine.
Lord Henry relaxed infinitesimally. ‘As you say…’
‘Are you settled in Town for the Season or do you travel again?’ Simon thought it wise to turn the conversation away from his friend’s unrequited passion for Lady Polly. The Earl of Seagrave’s daughter had rejected Henry’s plea to elope some three seasons before, but Simon knew that, despite Henry’s apparent indifference, his friend’s feelings were still deeply engaged.
Lord Henry shook his head slightly. ‘My plans are uncertain…I must go abroad again shortly and I think that there may be trouble brewing closer to home but…’ he shrugged ‘…I seldom know where I will be sent from week to week!’
Simon let it pass. He knew that Lord Henry worked for the government in various shadowy capacities and equally knew that his friend wished that to remain a well-kept secret. They paused in their conversation as a couple of slightly inebriated young men staggered past on their way to the card tables.
‘Are you staying for a hand of whist?’ Henry asked.
Simon shook his head. ‘Promised to look in at Almack’s tonight. M’sister and Miss Marchment are making their debut. Bound to be a crush!’ He put his glass down and got to his feet. ‘Damned slow, squiring one’s own sister
