Page 19 of Her Rake Fiancé

“Where is that?”

“Whitechapel.”

The countess gulped. “I imagine you are quite in need of protection there,” she said.

Jane had nothing to say to that. Yes, she lived among thieves, criminals, and prostitutes, a place where the scum of London gathered in dirty, crumbling houses.

Where Jane was needed and could make a real difference.

The more time she spent in Hyde Park with these people, the more out of place and rejected she felt. Everything about her was wrong for Mayfair society. She didn’t want any part of it. Even though she fondly remembered the polite visits and soirées at her home when Papa and Mama were alive. Years ago, she had belonged to this world.

Now she did not.

And no amount of acting would change that.

8

Richard watched Jane’s distress grow with every step, her eyebrows drawn together over her spectacles, lips in a thin line, cheeks as pale as the lace on her bonnet. Hercules trotted loyally next to Jane, looking up at his mistress every few seconds as if feeling her unhappiness.

The countess, Lady Isabella, and Grandmama walked and talked ten feet ahead of them. He hated all those questions from Lady Whitemouth. She’d always liked to put her nose in everyone else’s business. He remembered what trouble she’d caused Sebastian, the Duke of Loxchester, who was Preston’s best friend, and his wife, Emma, when she had informed the gossip papers that Emma was a farmer’s daughter.

Richard was sure it was only a matter of time before the countess would tell all her acquaintances in the ton about his engagement. That would make their act more believable. He just wished she wouldn’t have made the connection with Blackmore. Now the gossip would be all about the criminal’s sister Richard was engaged to. He was not afraid for himself, but he was worried for Jane.

He didn’t like the haunted, almost beaten look on her face. She might have been a bit sanctimonious when they met, but she was also confident and brave. He didn’t want her to take the countess’s snarky remarks to heart or to face further humiliation that she didn’t deserve.

“Are you all right, Miss Grant?” he asked.

Jane’s eyelashes fluttered, and for the first time he saw her eyes fill with tears. She briefly looked down at the gravel path disappearing under the hem of her skirt. Then she met his gaze without a trace of vulnerability.

“I am,” she said firmly. “Do not fuss over me, my lord. Or are you going to make some cruel jest?”

Was she getting angry at him? Why the flaring nostrils, the color rushing to her cheeks?

“If you want to fit in—” he said.

“I need to dress to impress. As you already said.”

“Miss Grant—”

“Do you know I already tried?” she demanded.

He frowned. “I’m sure you did. You were raised in Mayfair in your papa’s home.”

“Papa died so unexpectedly,” she said, her voice trembling, making Richard’s chest constrict. “I was just sixteen. I lost my only parent.”

Richard nodded sharply, the loss of his parents as vivid in front of his eyes as it had been six years ago. The memory of his lost brother stabbed him like knife under a rib. He could almost hear the echo of his brother’s voice calling out to him over the din of Portside’s bustling crowds on those Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays they used to spar together.

Richard shook his head, trying to clear it of the past. His eyes were misty with tears.

The heavy weight of Spencer’s absence had settled deep inside him—a constant ache that would never go away.

“I am sorry, Miss Grant,” he said, his voice raspy. “I know that loss. No young lady should have to go through that. That must have been very hard for you.”

Their eyes locked, surprise in hers, and he found himself quite unable to look away. He was transfixed, as if his feet had suddenly grown roots into the ground. The world seemed to drift away—the robins’ chirping silenced, far-off barks of dogs quieted, and the clopping of horses’ hooves no longer disturbed the air.

“Thank you, Lord Richard,” she said without looking away. “It wasn’t just that loss, though. When the house I grew up in was forfeited to the Crown, along with my father’s other properties, I lost my home. I lost the only world I knew. I also lost my first Season. My gown was ready, the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Papa was supposed to take me to my first Almack’s ball.”

Jane reached out to the row of bushes they were passing by and mindlessly brushed her gloved hand along the edges of the green leaves.