Why did Upton insist upon asking a lot of questions about Mrs. Bunbury? Jane could barely concentrate on his words. Instead, she’d been staring at the sensual curve of his lips. Confound Lucy for telling her anything. “Because Mrs. Bunbury is going to become horribly ill the night of the wedding and leave before Mama has a chance to check on her.”

“Poor Mrs. Bunbury.” Upton shook his head.

Jane wanted to thread her fingers through his thick, dark, curly hair. “Don’t worry. Mrs. Bunbury shall recover.” Though Jane might not.

Upton smiled again, flashing his perfect white teeth at her. Since when did she notice that Upton’s teeth were either perfect or white?

“It’s ludicrous, of course,” he said. “But you and Lucy are so confident about it. That is her secret, isn’t it? Lucy makes things work because of her supreme confidence in their working.”

Jane returned his smile. Was he thinking her teeth were perfect and white? She didn’t know about the perfect part, one of the teeth on the bottom was a bit crooked, but they were white. Weren’t they? “I’m not certain what Lucy’s secret is, but she does have confidence. To spare.”

Upton sighed. “I suppose it will give even more credence to the story if I mention to your mother that I’ve met Mrs. Bunbury and she’s a lovely woman and an apt chaperone.”

Jane blinked at him. “You’d do that for me?”

A resigned smile tugged at his lips. “I’ve learned that going against Lucy when her mind is made up is a losing battle. Being a former soldier, I like to have the field in my favor.”

Jane spun around and around in the dance, barely hearing his words. Garrett Upton was going to do her a favor? Without being asked? Without being begged? Oh, heavens. The man was indeed madly, madly in love with her.

Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

There was nothing, absolutely nothing, redeemable about Isabella Langford. Perhaps her beauty, but beauty was fleeting. Awfulness lasted forever.

Jane eyed the woman the next day as the houseguests took a walk to the lake. Lady Moreland had promised there would be rowboats available. Finally, the one enjoyable outing since the house party began. Enough of picnics and balls. Jane could truly enjoy herself relaxing in a rowboat under the shady willow trees, reading her book. She’d tucked a novel in her reticule and marched down here with the rest of them. She wore a serviceable yellow morning dress. No more low-cut ball gowns for her. A white bonnet completed her ensemble and she felt quite returned to her natural element, that of a bluestocking spinster.