She surreptitiously looked over at Garrett again. So far she hadn’t thought beyond the house party and their little, ahem, flirtation, but they would have to have a talk at some point, the two of them. That much was clear. Would he be contemplating proposing marriage? Jane plucked at the neck of her gown. She couldn’t think about that now. It was too much.

The fact was, in addition to Mrs. Bunbury, and Isabella Langford, Jane had a third problem, and it might well be the most pressing. She had the nagging feeling that she was falling in love with Garrett Upton. It seared her brain every time she had the thought, coming back to haunt her again and again. Each time she tried to push it away, it returned, more insistent than before.

She was surprised to think it. Upton had proven to be funny, intelligent, and well read. The well read part alone was enough to send her halfway to being in love with him. If the first edition Mary Wollstonecraft hadn’t got her, quoting it certainly would. Add to that the fact that the man was gorgeous and knew how to do amazing things with his mouth and fingers, and she was nearly without hope.

She couldn’t tell Upton she loved him. Could she? Lucy had convinced her he loved her, but Jane wanted to hear it from him. It was far too frightening a pronouncement for her to be the first to make it. But butterflies, of all poetry-dwelling, nauseatingly happy things, fluttered in her belly every time she thought about Garrett. When she caught his gaze again and he gave her that sensuous half-smile of his, the butterflies doubled.

She mustn’t think about such things right now. All she needed to do was enjoy the ceremony and look forward to tonight. Her ankle was still sore, but perhaps she could muddle through a waltz with Garrett. Just one. She’d remember it forever. A sly smile spread across her lips. Aside from the waltz, she hoped tonight would be similar to last night actually.

She was going straight to hell for thinking about it in a church of all places, but ooh, last night. Heat rushed between her legs at the memory. The things they’d done. The things they’d almost done. She’d nearly begged him to take her right there on the settee in her friend’s drawing room. Not very ladylike and certainly not very bluestocking spinsterish of her, but that was perhaps the best part. She plucked at the neck of her gown. It was getting warm in the church with such a large crush. Her thoughts were not helping.

Jane turned her attention back to the ceremony and watched with delight as her two beloved friends promised their lives to each other.

Chapter 32

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO