Nicola Cornick: Miss Verey’s Proposal

Miss Jane Verey…She had practically ignored him after their passage of arms during the waltz and he could not blame her for it. He was deeply ashamed of his behaviour towards her and considered it unforgivable. One did not go to Almack’s in the expectation of threats and bullying. Miss Verey was young and inexperienced and, whatever she had done, she did not deserve to be treated so harshly.

The trouble was that she had read him all too well. It was true that he had been angry because she had overset his plans. Alex’s calculations had not allowed for Jane’s feelings at all, but now that he had met her he could ignore her no longer. Ignore her! He gave a mirthless laugh. There was no possibility of that!

Alex squared his shoulders. He was unaccustomed to being made to feel guilty. Miss Verey had done that and had made him question his own judgement into the bargain! Well, Philip had to marry; he was still resolved on that. The Verey match had been his grandfather’s dearest wish and who better to manage Philip than a girl who had already shown her quick wit and devious ways? Besides, he was persuaded that Miss Jane Verey would soon relent. A spell in Town would make her realise that Philip was quite a good catch. All young ladies were anxious to marry well, after all, and why should Miss Verey be different? A show of reluctance was probably required for form’s sake, but would be followed by meek acquiescence.

The matter was settled. Alex let out a long breath. He would continue to promote the betrothal, although perhaps in a more subtle way. Miss Verey would soon conform and then all this fuss could be forgotten. Alex frowned. The decision should have cleared his mind, but for some reason he still felt vaguely dissatisfied. This had to be Jane Verey’s fault in some vague way that he could not specify. What a stubborn and opinionated chit! Who would have thought that the henwitted Clarissa Verey would have bred so unconventional a daughter?

He had reached the portico of Haye House and as he was about to start up the steps an extraordinary thing happened. He suddenly remembered with perfect clarity the softness of Jane Verey’s body within his embrace, the translucent radiance of her skin and the dazzling challenge in those wide green eyes. His imagination, normally firmly subject to his reason, presented him with the further image of Jane held naked in his arms, her lips parted beneath his own. It was so vivid and shocking an impression that he stopped dead. The immediate ache in his body told him that the idea held instant appeal.

‘Damn it all to hell,’ Alex said forcibly, and raised his hand to knock with far more violence than was necessary.

‘Oh, Jane!’ Sophia curled up on the end of Jane’s bed, leaning her chin on one hand. ‘Was that not the most exciting evening you have spent in an age? And is not Lord Philip the most-’ She broke off, blushing a little. ‘I know that he left Ambergate with indecent haste,’ she said in a rush, ‘and he has admitted to me that his behaviour was not that of a gentleman, but…oh, surely he cannot be all bad! He seemed to me to be charming and lively and…oh, everything a high-spirited young man should be!’

Jane put down her hairbrush with a smile, looking at her friend in the mirror. ‘I saw that you were enjoying his conversation,’ she teased. ‘I think that you had a better evening than I!’

Sophia’s eyes sparkled in the candlelight. ‘Yes, for you were obliged to be kind to that awesome Duke! Oh, but Lord Philip and I had a hundred-and-one things to talk about! It seemed as though we had known each other forever!’ A slight frown entered her eyes. ‘Dearest Jane, you do not mind, do you?’

Jane shook her head. ‘No,’ she said with perfect truth, ‘I do not mind for myself. But…’ she hesitated ‘…did Lord Philip tell you that his brother has plans for his future-very definite plans?’

‘Yes-’ Sophia hugged her knees ‘-but I am persuaded that I need have no concern over the Duke’s plans to marry Lord Philip off! You see…’ she looked suddenly shy ‘…Lord Philip can marry no one but me! Oh, Jane, he is the man I dreamed about all those years ago on St Agnes Eve! As soon as I saw him I recognised him at once!’

Jane stared at her friend in stupefaction. ‘Oh, no! Surely that was just a childish game!’

As soon as she had spoken she saw Sophia’s face fall.

‘But, Jane, I thought that you did not mind! You just said-’

‘I know!’ Jane put out a hasty hand to touch Sophia’s. ‘I do not mind for myself, dearest Sophia, for you know that Lord Philip and I would not suit! But the legend of the Eve of St Agnes is just that-a legend! It cannot be true!’

Sophia was looking distinctly obstinate. ‘All I know is that I dreamed of Lord Philip that night and now I have met him! It seems quite simple to me!’

Jane knew that there was no arguing with her. Sophia was a sweet girl but she could be frighteningly stubborn at times. Besides, who was to say that it was not true? Sophia had dreamed of a handsome young man and now she thought that she had met him. She had certainly tumbled into love. What was more surprising was that Lord Philip appeared equally smitten. Jane, remembering the bad-tempered young man who had visited Ambergate, suddenly wondered whether it had been frustration and anger that had made Philip behave as he had. Certainly Alexander Delahaye was imperious enough to try the patience of a saint, as Jane herself had discovered, and if he had pushed Philip beyond endurance…

She moved over to give Sophia an impulsive hug. ‘Oh, Sophy, I’m sorry! I did not mean to appear disbelieving! I am very happy for you!’

Sophia hugged her back, her spirits restored at once. ‘Jane, it is so exciting! I am just sorry that you did not dream of your future husband that night! That would have been marvellous!’

Jane tried not to smile. ‘Well, to tell the truth I did dream of a man that night, but-’

Sophia clutched her. ‘Jane! Why did you not tell me? Who was he?’

Jane dropped her gaze. ‘It was nothing, Sophy! I woke in the night and saw a man in the corridor and then I dreamed about him, but it turned out that he was just one of my parents’ guests…’

Sophia’s brow was furrowed. She focused on the one point of importance. ‘Yes, but, Jane, who was he?’

‘It was the Duke of Delahaye,’ Jane said reluctantly.

Sophia squeaked and clapped her hand to her mouth. Above it, her eyes were huge and round. ‘Jane! The Duke! But-’

‘I told you that the legend could not be true!’ Jane said urgently. ‘Besides, I was awake when I saw him, and although I dreamed of him later I am sure that it does not count.’

Sophia was not so sure. She shook her head stubbornly. ‘But you went to bed without supper? You did not look behind you?’

‘No,’ Jane admitted, wishing she had never mentioned it. ‘It’s true that I did those things, but-’

‘Then it must be true!’ Sophia’s blue eyes widened even further. ‘Oh, Jane, the Duke of Delahaye! Only think!’

Jane was thinking. With a shiver that was half-fear, half-pleasure, she remembered the curious attraction that Alex Delahaye held for her. Would it be so terrible to be married to him? Then she remembered that he wanted her to marry his brother and that he was still in love with his dead wife. How many reasons did she need to prove that it was all foolish superstition? She slid into her bed.

‘It has to be nonsense, Sophy,’ she said firmly. ‘If Alexander Delahaye proves to be my future husband you may have that pair of silk gloves of mine that you so admire-yes, and the straw bonnet with the matching ribbons! That is how certain I am that it will never come true!’