Jane felt quite proud of herself after a few minutes. She was enjoying Mr.Sedgeworth'scompany, she told herself, to such a degree that she had scarcely noticed that Lord Fairfax had joined Honor and other young people at the pianoforte, where Honor was entertaining them with her dubious skills at the keyboard.
Chapter Four
Later in the evening, after supper, Jane was sitting with a group of ladies, listening with half an ear to their conversation. She sat deliberately with her back toward the rather noisy group of young people across the room, Honor and Fairfax in their midst. It had been a great deal easier to remain oblivious of them when she had been talking to Mr.Sedgeworth. But he had been drawn away by their hostess to make up a fourth at a table of cards. Jane tried to concentrate on the story one lady was telling of the gay life she had led in Brussels until her return to England ten days before. It seemed that half the fashionable world was there, and almost all the dashing young officers.
"Miss Matthews."
Jane looked up, startled to find Lord Fairfax standing beside her.
"I have been forced to conclude that you have no intention of speaking with me this evening," he said. "Is it because you have readJoseph Andrewsand find that my recommendation was ill-founded?"
"Oh," she said with a laugh. "I have started the book, though I am afraid I have not read very much, yet. Not enough to make any sort of judgment."
"Indeed," he said, and he drew up a chair and seated himself beside her. "Then why have you been avoiding me?"
Jane's eyes widened. "But I have not been doing so, my lord," she said. "You have been in other company all evening and so have I. This is the first time I have come face-to-face with you."
"I thought you would have been with the young people," he said. "I waited in vain for you to approach the pianoforte. You did tell me at my aunt's ball that you play, did you not? Why do you not come and play for me now?"
"Oh no," she protested, blushing. "I have never felt comfortable performing in public. I play for my own enjoyment, usually at times when I can forget my surroundings and even myself."
"Do you?" he said. "Then I shall not press you. I do the same myself."
"You play, my lord?" she asked in surprise.
"Yes," he said. "But why I admit the fact, I do not know. Some people think it an unmanly accomplishment."
Jane looked blank. "Why?" she asked. "All the famous composers are men. Why should not they play as well?"
He shrugged. "Enough of me," he said. "Tell me more about yourself, Miss Matthews."
"Oh dear," Jane said. "I do hate that request. There is nothing more calculated to tongue-tie me than to be invited to speak of myself. I search frantically in my mind for something to say and find to my dismay that there is absolutely nothing."
"That is refreshing, at all events," he said. "One would not dare put the question to many ladies for fear that one might be listening to the answer for the next several hours. And pardon me, ma'am, I did not mean to cast a slur on your sex. There are as many men who find themselves fascinating topics of conversation."
Jane smiled. "I really live a quite dull life," she said.
"Nonsense!" he said. "I am sure you malign yourself. You told me you have several nieces and nephews. Do you spend a great deal of time with them?"
Jane nodded. "I believe rather more than either my brother or mysister thinkgood for the children," she said. "They accuse me of spoiling them."
"And do you?" he asked.
"I think not," she said. "I am afraid there is always a frightful noise and a great deal of rushing around when I am with them, for I believe that most of the time children should be allowed to express themselves freely and move about as they wish. There is a need, of course, to learn restraint and good manners.But not in the nursery.My views are not popular, of course. I am considered to be a bad influence."
Jane was flushed. When two people conversed at a social gathering, they usually gave each other one half of their attention and the room at large the other half. The viscount's eyes and apparently the whole of his attention were on her.
"Some children find it harder than others to be quiet and disciplined, though, dotheynot?" he said. "Amy—my elder daughter—is almost always quietly busy about some task, even though she is only four years old. Now, Claire finds it almost impossibly irksome to sit still even to eat a meal. She is two."
"But you surely do not try to force such a baby to sit still?" Jane asked.
"Oh, by no means," he assured her. "I am afraid your brother and sister would not allow me within a mile of their children, Miss Matthews. I am far too indulgent, so my old nurse constantly tells me. I dote on my children and spoil them quite shamefully. I merely meant that Claire is vastly different from Amy, though they have the same parents and the same home. It is strange. One imagines, I suppose, that all of one's children will be very much the same as one another and easily molded into the sort of people we would like them to be."
Jane smiled. "Your daughters must miss you," she said.
"I believe so," he agreed. "I received a painting from Amy today. It has a band of blue sky across the top of the paper, a band of green across the bottom, and a coach and horses suspended in midair. The most ghastly face is peering out of the window. Nurse has written at the bottom of the page, 'Papa on his way to London.' "
Jane laughed. "I would wager the painting has been given the place of honor in your bedchamber," she said, and then blushed hotly at her own choice of words.
