Mr. Dunkirk compressed his lips and looked to Jane, his gaze seeming to carry a suppressed laugh. “Well, Mrs. Ellsworth, regardless of where the fault lies, I believe it is clear that Beth and I should end our call.”

Miss Dunkirk rose reluctantly from the sofa. “You will be all right?”

Jane smiled. “Of course. Have you never fainted from too much glamour?”

“Oh, I do not know how to work glamour.” The girl shook her head, and some of the darkness of her mood came back to her features.

“What?” Mrs. Ellsworth cried. “But how could your mother allow it? What were your governesses doing to earn their keep if not teaching you such necessaries?”

Jane interjected, “Mama, you might as well ask why everyone does not play the piano. Glamour is no more a necessary than that. I am certain that Miss Dunkirk is accomplished in other regards.”

Despite Jane’s efforts at glossing over her mother’s callous remarks, Miss Dunkirk retreated into her shy silence once again. Mr. Dunkirk placed a hand on her shoulder to guide her out, and Jane was reminded of the girl’s youth.

They parted, with Jane promising to return their call on the morrow. Only when they had departed did Jane realize that in the flurry over her swoon, all had forgotten Melody. She almost went upstairs to check on her sister, and then, upon reflection, decided that Melody needed to learn to govern her passions.

She would have to do that without Jane.

Five

Art and Glamour

Tapping her fingers on the brim of her straw bonnet, Jane tried to evaluate the effect of the Venetian glass cherries against a green silk ribbon. She had hoped that the ribbon would serve as leaves, but it was too pallid. She switched to a velvet ribbon in a deeper Pomona green, pinned the cherries in place over it, and nodded in satisfaction. Though it was silly to take so much care with her appearance, she had never before called at Robinsford Abbey by herself. If not for the excuse of returning Miss Dunkirk’s call, she would not have dared to go now, but there was no harm in looking her best in case she happened to see Mr. Dunkirk.

“That looks very nice.” Melody stood in the door of the drawing room.

“Thank you.” Jane considered the drape of the ribbon, pretending that it held all her attention. Melody had not spoken to her beyond the barest monosyllable since the Dunkirks’ visit the day prior. Desire to mend the breach between them warred in Jane’s breast with simple pride. She had done nothing wrong to make Melody deal her such petty slights, but she knew it would be fruitless to wait for Melody to apologize. “Are you feeling better?”

“Pardon?”

“You were cross yesterday, so I thought you must be unwell.”

“Oh.” Melody twisted her fingers together. “Yes. I had a headache.”

Jane took up her needle and thread. “I see. It was a pity you had to leave without saying good-bye. Mr. Dunkirk remarked on your absence.”