LITMIR.BIZ

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will make the arrangements. Wait here.’

      He turned on his heel and strode away and Jane felt the tension leach from Alex. She eyed those left in the clearing. Stepmama was already crowing to Papa about the connection and the splendid society wedding she would arrange. Alex’s uncle, Lord Vernon Beauchamp, walked over to Alex and Jane, followed by Mr Graystoke—a half-Romany whose father was an earl, and who was married to Alex’s Aunt Cecily, but refused to be called ‘uncle’. Stepmama—for all she fawned over the Duke—held his brother-in-law in disdain and made no secret of the fact.

      ‘Alex? What can I do to help?’ Concern etched Lord Vernon’s face as he gripped his nephew’s shoulder.

      ‘You can shut her up about lavish society weddings,’ Alex growled. He looked down at Jane. ‘Come and stay at the Abbey, Janey. Don’t go back there and let her terrorise you into having what she wants. Unless…do you want a big wedding?’

      Jane shook her head. She could think of nothing worse. ‘Stepmama only wants one because she thinks it will help my sisters attract husbands.’

      Mr Graystoke’s lip curled. He strolled unhurriedly across to where Stepmama was still talking at Papa. Silence descended.

      ‘The young couple prefer a quiet wedding. Family only,’ he said.

      Papa flushed red as Stepmama visibly bristled.

      ‘Who do you think—?’

      Her mouth shut with a snap as Lord Vernon joined them.

      ‘And Lady Jane will stay at the Abbey until Alex obtains the licence,’ he drawled. ‘I foresee no objection from the Bishop and you may rest assured Jane will be well chaperoned in the meantime.’

      ‘I shall come myself to collect her belongings,’ Mr Graystoke added and Stepmama spluttered, spots of outrage colouring her cheeks. ‘Shall we say in two hours? If you leave now, that should give you sufficient time to pack her belongings.’

      The two men turned their backs on her parents and strolled back to Alex and Jane.

      ‘That shut her up,’ Lord Vernon said, with a wink.

      Over his shoulder, Jane watched her parents leave, Stepmama gesticulating furiously. Even though she wanted them gone, it still hurt to see Papa walk away without a word.

      ‘Maybe you should take her back to the house, Alex, and not wait for Leo,’ said Mr Graystoke. ‘She’s had a shock.’ He crouched slightly and tipped up her chin, holding her gaze with his dark eyes. ‘All will be well, my dear. You are part of the family now. You are protected.’

      The anxiety agitating her stomach settled and stilled. ‘Thank you.’ She glanced up at Alex, who was frowning at her. ‘What is it?’

      ‘You can’t go back with your gown all torn like that. I—’

      His jaw snapped shut and Jane followed his gaze. Alex’s father, a gown draped over one arm, was approaching, the Duchess—Alex’s stepmother—by his side.

      ‘Vern, Zach, Alex…come. Let us return to our guests. Rosalind will help Jane. The fewer people who know what happened here, the better.’

      ‘We’d better find a way to stop Lady Stowford from spewing her poison all over the district, then,’ said Lord Vernon. ‘I believe Zach and I might have contrived to upset her. Just a smidgeon, you understand. And totally without intention.’ The twinkle in his eyes belied his apologetic tone.

      ‘I have already helped the Stowfords to understand it is in their best interests to remain quiet,’ said the Duke.

      ‘We met them on their way back to the house,’ added the Duchess, ‘and Lady Stowford made the mistake of attempting to pull rank on Leo, claiming rights as the mother of the bride. I believe she now accepts it is what Alex and Jane want that is important. Now, off you go, you men, and leave me and Jane to make her respectable. Go on! Shoo!’

       Chapter Three

      Left alone with the Duchess, Jane found her voice again.

      ‘I shouldn’t have accepted Alex, Your Grace. I’m sorry. He doesn’t want to marry me. I know he doesn’t. Stepmama gave him no choice.’ Suppressed tears thickened her voice. Why would anyone want to marry her? She wasn’t pretty or even vivacious. Alex had been trapped. ‘She would keep saying I was ruined and I must marry S-Sir Denzil.’

      ‘Jane…you cannot possibly marry that villain after what he tried to do.’ The Duchess took her hand. ‘You and Alex have always been friends, have you not?’

      Jane nodded.

      ‘Then allow him to help his friend and…’ The Duchess paused, a line stitched between her brows. Then her chin tilted. ‘And, in return, you can be a friend to him. Alex needs someone like you in his life…’ she nodded, emphasising her words ‘…although he would never admit it. Unless, of course, the thought of being wed to him truly repels you?’

      Hazel eyes searched Jane’s face. She shook her head. No. That thought did not repel her. Not at all.

      ‘Good. Now, come, let us get this gown off you and make you respectable. I have even brought a comb and hairpins. No one will guess what so nearly happened and Leo has already shut Sir Denzil in one of the outbuildings until he sobers up and can be…um…“brought to fully appreciate the iniquity of his actions” were, I believe, Leo’s exact words.’

      They were all being so kind, but Jane dreaded to think what they really thought of her. She knew Alex had stopped Pikeford in time, but did anyone else believe her? She shuddered at the memory of his hand painfully squeezing her breast…his fingers between her legs… Her stomach roiled, pushing the contents up. She ran to a nearby bush, bent double and vomited. Tears blurred her eyes. She could not stop retching, even after her stomach was empty and sore. Gradually, the heaving slowed and she became aware of hands supporting her, holding her hair back.

      ‘Better now?’

      ‘Yes. Thank you, Your Grace.’

      ‘Then let us make you respectable again and return to the house.’

      They avoided the lawn at the rear of the Abbey, where the garden party continued, by following the lake around until they met the grass path that wound up through the copse towards the formal gardens leading to the terrace and the library. The Duchess peered through the hedge into the gardens before smiling encouragingly at Jane.

      ‘They’re empty. When the Duke told me what had happened, I ordered bath water to be heated and a bedchamber prepared. You must be exhausted. Come.’

      She slipped her arm around Jane’s waist and they hurried through the gardens and up the steps to the terrace, where one of the French doors into the library stood open. Within minutes the Duchess had whisked Jane upstairs.

      Father, as was his wont, moved swiftly to avert any scandal. Pikeford had already left for Plymouth, escorted by two footmen to ensure he took passage on the first ship bound for the Continent, thus thwarting Alex of the chance to thump the bastard again. But Father did not broach the subject of Alex’s impending marriage until after dinner that evening, when he invited Alex to join him in his study.

      Alex braced himself for the interrogation, every muscle locked tight, as though his body was preparing itself for physical battle.

      ‘Well, Alex?’

      Alex unclenched his jaw with an effort. ‘Well… I hope you will wish us happy, sir.’

      Father stared at him for several seconds, his eyes troubled, before pouring them both a glass of brandy. He handed one to Alex and gestured

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