It was only the evening before that the scales had fallen away from her eyes and she had seen clearly. In what way was she inferior to Lord Fairfax? She was not beautiful; he was extraordinarily handsome. Did that make her inferior? She had the sort of character that could win her the affection of those close to her but that did not attract people in general; he had a charm that could focus the attention of a large gathering onhimselfif he chose. Did that make her inferior? She was the daughter of an untitled gentleman of impeccable lineage and comfortable fortune; he was titled and reputedly very wealthy. Did that make her inferior? She had been educated by a governess and had learned a great deal for herself through reading and listening; he had gone to a good school and university and liked to read and develop his mind. Was she in any way inferior?
These thoughts did not occur consciously to Jane's mind as she walked with Viscount Fairfax at the theater. But the sudden realization that she had made herself into an abject, poor creature did strike her quite consciously. Although perhaps Fairfax did not mean his words in quite the way they sounded, although perhaps he was nervous and not projecting a true image of himself, his urging that she give him her answer had made Jane very angry indeed. She had not wanted to give him a reason for her refusal. Indeed, she could hardly frame a reason in words even to herself. But he had pressed her, and she had become evenmore angry.
She had had no time to think out her words in advance, but she had found once she started that words came pouring out of her. And she had tried to convey to him her anger in being thought of by labels. She was needed as a wife, a mother, a housekeeper. She was not needed as Jane. She was not a wife, a mother, or a housekeeper. And she would never be primarily one of those things even if she did eventually marry. Primarily and always she was Jane, a unique and very real person. She could never marry anyone who would not recognize that. She would not allow herself to be treated as a commodity. Even if she loved Lord Fairfax fifty times more than she did—impossible!—she could never marry him unless he could look at her and see Jane and assure her that it was Jane he wanted, not any other woman in the world.Just Jane.
She had been very proud of herself for the rest of the evening, proud of the fact that her sense of worth had overcome her awe at being addressed by Viscount Fairfax. She did love him. She knew that she would live to regret never seeing him again. She knew she would suffer from a sense of emptiness, knowing that she could have married him and lived her life with him. But for that evening she was proud. She had watched the second half of the play attentively, her cheeks hot, her eyes intense. And afterward, she would not have been able to recall one action or one word that had taken place on the stage.
Her aunt and uncle had unexpectedly decided to invite their guests back to their house for supper. When Mr. Leighton had been forced to decline because of a previous engagement and it was seen that Mr.Sedgeworthwas alone in his box, Uncle Alfred had walked over there himself and invited him to supper. Jane had thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the evening. She was glad they had company. She was not yet ready to be alone with her own thoughts.
She had agreed to partner Mr.Sedgeworthat cards. And she had enjoyed his company. She thought now that she might even have flirted with him a little. He was so thoroughly friendly and so completely unthreatening. He was a man she could like and respect and yet one for whom she felt not one ounce of physical attraction. She could relax in his company. That was what she would concentrate on for the rest of her life: building friendships with men—and women—whom she could like. Life did not have to be dull even for a spinster.
That had been the night before. Now, after a few hours of sleep, the future did not seem quite so bright. Would she see Fairfax again?shewondered. She supposed it was inevitable that they would be in the same room occasionally and glimpse each other from a distance. But surely he would be anxious now to avoid her.As she would be to avoid him.And once the Season was over, she would never see him again.Never.It was an awfully long time.
She could not feel sorry for her decision. She still thought as she had the night before. In many ways she felt like a new person. No longer would she undervalue herself. She looked back with some horror now to the attitude with which she had come to London. Almost any man would do as a husband, she had said, provided he was amiable and had no obvious vice. And she had convinced herself that it was common sense that had led her to that decision. It was not common sense. It was a conviction that she could expect very little of life.
Never again would she take that attitude. She was in fact very satisfied with herself as a person. She had developed her talents and her mind as far as she was able as a female in a male-dominated society. If she compared herself to Honor, she would have to say, even if it seemed immodest to do so, that she was inferior only in beauty. Honor was not unintelligent and she was not without accomplishments. But Honor was ashamed of both. She felt they took away from her femininity and so she lived a lie. She subjected everything that made her an interesting and a unique person to the all-important need to find herself a husband. And what was the criterion by which she judged a man suitable as a husband?His looks merely.Jane did not believe Honor loved Lord Fairfax. She doubted if the girl knew him even to the limited extent that she, Jane, did. But he was a handsome man and so Honor pursued him.
Jane looked unseeingly out the window. The rest of the Season suddenly seemed quiteunenticing. She longed to go home. At this moment she would give a great deal to be able to put on a bonnet and set out on a long walk across the moors, nothing to come between her and her thoughts except nature at its wildest and bleakest. She did not want to have to continue going to balls, routs, soirees, and everything else that various members of thetonhad devised for the mutual pleasure of all.
She did not want to see him again.
She ached with pain and emptiness at the thought that she might never see him again. And that her exile from him was of her own doing.
For the following week and a half Jane and Honor saw almost nothing of Viscount Fairfax. He raised his hat to them and nodded one morning from the opposite side of the street when they were out shopping. Honor reported that he had stopped his horse to talk to her for a few minutes in the park one afternoon when she was driving with one of her admirers. But he had not stopped for long. He was on his way somewhere, not just out for the social exercise.
Honor was disturbed for a few days by his absence from their drawing room and every entertainment they attended. Then she shrugged the matter off. "It is true that he is easily the handsomest man in town," she said to Jane, "but if he chooses to be moody, I shall have nothing to do with him. It is not as if he ignores just me, Jane. We have been where everyone else of any consequence has been for the last few days, and he has not been in sight. So it seems he shuns everyone. I shall not worry my head over him any longer."
The presence in London of the Earl of Henley helped lessen her disappointment. He was recently returned from Vienna and was much in demand by people who wanted firsthand news of what was happening at the Congress there. The earl was in his forties and no match in either looks or physique for Viscount Fairfax. But he was distinguished-looking and wealthy. And he was popular with theton. He was an earl. Two facts endeared him more than any others to Honor, though. He had a reputation as something of a rake. And he very openly singled her out for his gallantries from the moment of his arrival.
"I have not at all decided if I shall have him," she confided to Jane one morning while they were enjoying a quiet stroll in the park. "He is a little older than I would wish my husband to be. Just imagine, Jane. By the time I am thirty, he will be close to sixty! However, he is much more distinguished than Max or Harry or even Percy. And the idea of being a countess is quite appealing."
Jane offered no opinion. She considered it likely that if the Earl of Henley had made it into his forties without succumbing to the charms of any female or her mama, he would continue to do so. However, if his attentions would keep Honor's mind off Fairfax, Jane would be thankful. She did not wish to be forever listening to her cousin talk about him. She did not even wish to think about him.
They did not see the viscount, but Mr.Sedgeworthcontinued to be much in evidence. He called twice at the house during the next week and a half and took Jane driving on one of those occasions. He appeared at almost every social function they attended and always spent some time with Sir Alfred Jamieson's party. He danced with both Jane and Honor atAlmack's. He led Jane in to dinner one evening and sat beside her. Later he turned pages for Honor while she played the spinet, and fetched her tea when she was finished. He sat beside Jane at a musical evening and between items described to her some of the concerts he had attended in Italy and Germany.
Both ladies grew to like him.
"He certainly proves that one does not have to be extraordinarily handsome to be amiable," Honor said. "And indeed he is quite handsome when one looks closely. He is not very tall, of course, and his hair is no decided color, just light brown. But he has a very pleasing face. His eyes and his mouth seem always to be close to smiling. I think he would do very well for you, Jane. Much better than that dreadfully dull Mr.Faford, who does not bother you any longer, thank heaven. I was very afraid you might marry him. And I believe Mr.Sedgeworthlikes you."
"The same might certainly be said for you, Honor," Jane pointed out. "Whenever he dances with me, he dances with you too."
"Yes," Honor agreed, "but he does not spend a great deal of time conversing with me, Jane. I think he is one of the few gentlemen who like to talk to an intelligent woman. And I, of course, am the merest ninny-hammer."
"If he believes so, the fault is no one's but yours," Jane said. "No one who does not know you closely would guess that there is a brain somewhere beneath all that dark hair."
Honor laughed. "You must not give away my secret, Jane," she said. "I would lose my following instantly if anyone suspected."
"As far as I can see," Jane said, "you seem to despise the bulk of that following anyway, Honor."
The girl laughed again. "But it is irresistible to be the most sought-after debutante of the Season," she said. "Besides, Henley would likely not have given me a second glance had there not been a whole host of lovelorn males around me when he first set eyes on me."
Jane welcomed her growing friendship with Mr.Sedgeworth, especially when it became clear that being with him was not bringing her into contact with Fairfax. He referred to his friend only once, and that was during their drive in the park.
"I am worried about Fairfax," he said. "He positively refuses to go anywhere where he is likely to meet ladies. That limits his activities almost entirely to visits to his clubs. I had great hopes of bringing him out of the gloom he has been in since the death of his wife. But he is being attacked by homesickness. I suppose it is not easy to get over the death of a wife one has loved. However, Miss Matthews, I must not bore you with my own worries."
Jane had made no comment and the topic had been changed. She found Mr.Sedgeworthvery easy to talk to and very interesting. When he realized that stories of his travels did not bore her, he told her a great deal about various countries.
"It must be wonderful to be free to travel wherever you wish," she said with something of a sigh one day.
