Jane spent the first several moments in the boat trying not to notice how good Garrett’s muscles looked outlined in his shirtsleeves. He’d removed his jacket in order to row more effectively. He’d worked up a bit of a sweat on his forehead and that, combined with the scent of him, his spicy cologne she’d become intimately acquainted with recently, was making her uncomfortably warm. She turned her bonneted head away in an attempt to catch the slight breeze coming off the water.

She made a mental note to scold Lucy and Cass for leaving her alone with Upton and Mrs. Langford. What could they have been thinking? That she would enjoy herself with these two? Even if Lucy was making a poor attempt at matchmaking, it made no sense for a threesome to be on the water together. Hardly romantic. Not that she wanted to be romantic with Upton. Er, again. Certainly not. Definitely not.

“It’s a lovely day for rowing,” Mrs. Langford said.

Jane nearly breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps the widow would stick to such inane comments and Jane might be left to read her book in peace. Though she couldn’t help but glance up at Upton from time to time, just to try to determine if he was indeed in love with her and perhaps to catch a glimpse of those muscles.

“It is indeed,” Upton replied just as innocuously.

Jane pulled her book up to her nose.

A gasp came from Mrs. Langford’s general direction. “Don’t tell me you intend to read during this lovely boat ride, Miss Lowndes.”

Jane didn’t care for the way the woman pronounced the word “read,” as if it might be interchangeable with shaking babies or kicking puppies. She didn’t even spare the woman a glimpse. Nor did she lower her book. “That’s precisely what I intend to do.”

“Egad. I cannot imagine a less interesting way to pass the time,” Mrs. Langford replied. “The only things I read are fashion magazines.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Jane murmured under her breath, peeking over the top of her book momentarily to give the widow a disdainful stare.

“What was that?” Mrs. Langford pushed herself up from her reclining position, bracing both hands on either side of the boat, presumably in an attempt to gain a better vantage point from which to hear Jane.

“I’m not certain that browsing through fashion magazines can be equated with reading, but it sounds like a valiant attempt,” Jane replied. “At any rate, this particular chapter of this particular book is quite compelling. I do hope you’ll excuse me while I get back to it.” Jane could have sworn she saw Upton smother a smile.

“What book is it?” he asked.

Jane’s head snapped up to face him. She lowered the book. “Pardon?”

“What book is it?” he repeated.