The Spring Bride Read Free Page A

suddenly turned and gestured urgently. Lord Cambury’s voice grew louder, saying, “Tomorrow then, Lady Beatrice. I look forward to it.”
    He was leaving. The girls rose and hurried up the stairs out of sight.
    At the landing, Jane turned and peered down cautiously between the rails. She caught a glimpse of a pink and shiny pate, over which thin strands of fair hair had been carefully combed, and then Featherby was handing Lord Cambury his hat, coat and cane.
    The front door closed behind him and Jane let out the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding.
    Featherby glanced up and said in a voice that carried up the stairs, “Yes, m’lady, Miss Jane and Lady Davenham are here with Miss Daisy. I’ll call them down, shall I?” The girls hurried downstairs.
    â€œTea, m’lady?” Featherby asked as they entered the drawing room.
    Lady Beatrice nodded. “And something stronger for me.” Featherby bowed and withdrew. Lady Beatrice pulled out her lorgnette and regarded Jane through it. “Well now, you’re full of surprises, miss.”
    Jane’s jaw dropped. “
I
am?”
    Lady Beatrice frowned. “You didn’t expect this?”
    â€œI’m not entirely sure what ‘this’ is.” She glanced at Daisy. “Daisy said Lord Cambury was making an offer. Of marriage. For me.”
    Lady Beatrice nodded. “Nothing wrong with the gel’s ears. Not that any of you should be listening at doors.”
    Daisy gave her an unrepentant grin. “Best way to keep up with all the news.”
    â€œMinx.” The old lady shook her head, sending her vivid red curls bobbing. “But you’re quite right.” She turned to Jane. “Lord Cambury has made a formal offer for your hand.”
    So it was true. Jane stared at her, stunned. “But . . . he hardly knows me.” She tried to remember the times she’d spoken to Lord Cambury, and could recall only the most commonplace exchanges—a comment about the weather on one occasion, and her partiality for cream cakes on another.
    â€œAnd from the sounds of things, you don’t know him either,” Abby pointed out.
    â€œNevertheless, it’s an excellent offer,” Lady Beatrice said. “He’s rich, as rich as Golden Ball they say, only without the vulgarity. Lord Cambury prides himself on his exquisite good taste.”
    William, their footman, brought in the tea tray with a large pot of tea and a plate of cakes and other delicacies. Featherby followed, bearing the brandy decanter. Under Lady Beatrice’s supervision, he poured her tea—more brandy than tea.
    Abby poured for the rest of them, just tea with a little milk. For a few moments the silence was broken only by the clattering of teacups and spoons.
    â€œWhat did you tell him?” Jane blurted out as soon as William and Featherby had left.
    â€œThat it was your decision, of course.”
    â€œIt’s ridiculous,” Abby declared. “As if Jane would even consider such an insulting offer. So he’s rich and a lord. Does he think he is so rich and important that he doesn’t even have to bother courting her?” She looked at Jane expectantly.
    Jane said nothing.
    â€œRidiculous, perhaps,” Lady Beatrice said after a moment, “but it’s quite a coup for your sister. The caps that have been set at Cambury these past ten years—you have no idea, my dears—and he’s offered for Jane before the season has even begun!”
    She drained her cup and signaled for Abby to refill it with teathis time. “Whether or not you accept him, your success is assured, my dear. What a season this is going to be! Two of you brilliantly married already and now, a magnificent offer for Jane—and from Cambury, of all men.”
    â€œWhat do you know about him?” Jane asked.
    There was a sudden silence.
    Abby put the teapot down with a thump