Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Drink this,” she urged her. “Breathe deep and try to calm down.”
“Yes, be calm,” said Rosalind. “I’ll have my father find those ladies and toss them out. How dare they insult you?”
“They didn’t speak to me directly, I overheard them,” said Jane. “And don’t tell your father, please. I could never repeat to him the things they said.” She gazed at her friends, with too many questions and too much fear of the answers. “Is it true that… Oh goodness, I am so upset. You must tell me, honestly.” She held their gazes, tears spilling onto her cheeks. “Did your brother propose to me by…by mistake?”
“What?” Rosalind shook her head. “No. Who said such a thing?”
“A group of women were talking about it and laughing. They said…” She took a shuddering breath. “It’s so outrageous. They said Edward meant to propose to June to get back at Wescott because…because he loves Ophelia…”
She burst into fresh tears, shaken, remembering the times he’d seemed to look through her, as if thinking of someone else. Remembering the times he couldn’t quite tell her he loved her. It was because he loved another. He loved Ophelia, the woman she’d considered a friend!
“It’s true, isn’t it?” She gazed at Rosalind and Elizabeth through a blur of grief. “Because it never made sense for him to propose to me.”
“Who is telling these tales?” Rosalind asked.
“It was a tall woman with auburn hair, and her friends.”
“Arabelle and her lot,” said Elizabeth.
Rosalind nodded, eyes blazing. “I know exactly of whom you speak, Jane. Lady Arabelle is the worst sort of person, a vile gossip. I tell you right now, I’ll never acknowledge her existence again.”
Her friends’ outrage was all well and good, but it didn’t take away what the women had said. A stunning creature. A mistake. Does she pet his snake just right? Jane wished to believe it was all made-up gossip, but Elizabeth and Rosalind’s expressions unsettled her.
“Is it true?” she asked, with a plea in her voice. “Does Edward love Ophelia? Of course, that’s why he and Wescott turned against one another,” she cried, answering her own question. “How stupid I’ve been. It wasn’t because Wescott jilted June. It was much more than that.”
“You must calm down, dear love.” Rosalind put an arm around her as Elizabeth tried to dry her tears. “My brother does not love Ophelia. He loves you. You are his wife, Jane.”
“By accident, it seems.” She sobbed harder. “By mistake.”
Rosalind was staring hard at Elizabeth. Elizabeth stared back.
“We must tell her,” said Elizabeth.
“No.” Rosalind’s lips grew tight. “This is not the time or place. We’ll throw out Arabelle and her mean little cabal and…” She turned to Jane. “You must let Edward address the rumors. It’s a more complicated story than they make it seem.”
“It’s true though, isn’t it? He never meant to marry me. It was a mistake. I was a mistake.”
Elizabeth led her to the divan, sat beside her and put her arms around her. Rosalind sat on the other side, more stiffly, her features dark with misery.
“You are not a mistake.” Rosalind was crying now, too. “You are a treasured member of our family. You are Edward’s beloved wife. I know my brother, Jane, and he loves you.”
“But there is truth in the gossip you heard,” said Elizabeth gently. “Edward ought to have explained what happened before now, so you would have been prepared for their rude whispers.”
“That’s all they are, rudeness,” Rosalind said. “Vile gossip signifying nothing.”
“Jane deserves to know the truth for her own understanding.” Elizabeth stood fast in the face of Rosalind’s rising agitation. “What’s more, until she knows the truth, their union cannot be whole and good. That’s my opinion on it.”
“Despite what you believe, Elizabeth, your opinion is not always right.”
“Please,” Jane said. “Please stop arguing and tell me the truth of our betrothal, all of it.”
Her strained voice sounded harsh in the silent parlor. Elizabeth sighed and took her hand, squeezing it gently.
“To understand all of it, you should know that, not very long ago, Townsend fell in love with Lady Wescott. She was Lady Ophelia Lovett then, for she was not married yet. He was obsessively in love with her, to be truthful about it.”
“Elizabeth!” Rosalind warned.
She gave her a cross look. “She must know the whole of it, or she might as well know nothing at all.” She turned back to Jane. “It will make you feel better to know this obsessive love was not returned in kind. Anyway, one night last fall there was a fire in the theater district, and when my brother rescued Ophelia from the spreading flames, they became trapped together and forced to spend the night in East London. To prevent undue gossip and to protect her character, Wescott proposed to Ophelia shortly afterward. You see, this is why he had to break things off with your sister so abruptly.”