“Oh, but Jane, Mama and I will be gone then. You would not want to deprive us of Mr. Dunkirk’s company, would you?” She turned back to Mr. Dunkirk and looked at him through her long lashes. “Do say you will stay for dinner.”

“I—” He glanced at Jane, as if pleading with her for aid. “I really must not stay.”

Jane said, “We shall have you over when Mama and Melody return from Bath. At the moment, though, I am certain that your thoughts are with your sister, who is not well.”

“Yes. Yes. That is exactly it. My sister, who is not well. I need to return to Beth, my sister, who is not well. Yes.” He had begun backing slowly to the door.

Melody let go of his arm, seeming to realize that she was fighting a losing battle. “I am so sorry to hear that Miss Dunkirk is ill. Do give her my regards.”

“Thank you, I shall.” He bowed, said his good-byes, and exited.

“Jane, you surprize me. Two suitors, when I thought you had none!” Melody tossed the cherried bonnet to Jane. “You had best keep this. It will go so well with your favourite pink shawl.”

Jane reached to catch the bonnet, but it tumbled to the floor. The delicate Venetian glass cherries cracked against the hard marble floor. Trembling with outrage, she stooped to pick it up, turning it so that the fractured glass caught the light. “What have I done to inspire such ill feelings? Tell me now so that I may apologize or make amends, but do not keep punishing me for an offense which, if given, was unconscious on my part. You have said that Mr. Dunkirk and Mr. Vincent hold no interest for you, and yet it seems that you resent their attentions to me.”

Melody’s face, unexpectedly, softened and saddened. “Jane; oh, Jane. You understand nothing. I resent the fates that gave you all the tools to interest them and left me with nothing.”

“What? Gave me the tools?” Jane laughed, half sobbing. “Have you not seen how I stand against the wall at a dance, wanting to dance but having no suitors? Or the way the gentlemen come to your side when you hint at wanting them to appear? Should I thank the fates for giving me an overlong nose? Or shall I thank them for my sharp chin? My sallow complexion, rather?”

“Thank them for your arts and talents.” Melody lifted her perfect chin. “I have nothing to offer them but my pretty face, and once they have seen that, what reason can I give them to remain by my side?”

There were Melody’s jealously claims again! Jane understood them no more than she did at any point. She had been given the same advantages and opportunities as Jane, with the added gift of beauty. If she had not learned music or painting, it was because she had taken no interest in either, not because the opportunity had not presented itself. “They must surely see your merits when they talk with you.”