‘It does not last, romantic love.’ Ivo stepped back from her stabbing finger before she could make contact to emphasise her point. He turned away and it must have been that which made his voice seem less distinct, less assured.
‘Ivo?’
He turned back to face her and she thought she saw that darkness shadowing those blue eyes again. ‘There might be a fleeting attraction, but mature, sensible people can ignore it, turn from it until it fades, believe me.’
Was he speaking from experience? ‘But Verity and Will—I cannot imagine their love fading.’
‘The Duke and Duchess met when both were free to indulge their feelings, to build on that first attraction. If they had not been free, then it would all have been forgotten soon enough.’
‘So cynical!’ She could not believe it, not after seeing the look in Will’s eyes when he watched Verity, not when she saw the bloom of happiness that love had brought to her friend.
‘I am realistic,’ Ivo said, his voice harsh. He raised one hand to touch cold fingertips to her cheek and his tone gentled. ‘Jane, the situation we now find ourselves in makes your fantasy quite untenable.’
She opened her mouth to protest that if he meant her career in art, she knew that, but if he meant her dreams of true love, then he must be wrong.
The door creaked before she could speak. ‘Jane dear?’ Her mother peeped around the edge with a coyness that made her toes curl. ‘Now then, you two young people cannot be alone in here so long, you naughty things. You must come out and share your news.’
‘Not quite yet, Mrs Newnham,’ Ivo said with a smile that did not reach his eyes, Jane saw. ‘We will go out into the garden.’
‘The back garden,’ Jane added. ‘Then, Mama, you may watch us from this window if you fear for the proprieties. This way, Ivo.’
Ivo held the door open with the hint of a bow. ‘Do come in, ma’am.’
&n
bsp; Jane stood aside as her mother, smiling a little uncertainly at Ivo, allowed herself to be seated at the window. They escaped into the hall, out of the back door into the grassed area to the rear of the house. It was scattered with old fruit trees, apples and pears and cherries, lichen-covered and bent with age.
Ivo offered his arm and Jane took it. They could hardly stand in the middle of the grass glaring at each other.
‘That...my painting...is nothing to do with this,’ she said, picking up their argument as they began to pace away from the house.
‘I wish I could believe that,’ Ivo retorted. ‘It is inconceivable that you could establish a business in Bath relying on the patronage of the middle and upper classes without Mesdames Tredwick and Merrydew discovering it. They know your true identity. Can you imagine the gossip? I guarantee that you would be characterised as my discarded mistress, or the hussy who jilted me or the poor creature that I jilted within days. No one of any respectability would dream of commissioning you to paint their family.’
‘I know that,’ she said at last, trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. If he sneered, if he said, I told you so, she would not forgive him. ‘I do not have enough money.’
‘No, you do not,’ Ivo agreed. ‘I am sorry. If there was almost anything else that you wanted so badly, then I would give you the money and be happy to do so, but I am not going to pay for your ruin.’
‘I could not take money from you anyway.’ Jane saw the pale oval of her mother’s face at the window of the book room. She walked further under the shelter of the trees. ‘That would make me a kept woman, would it not?’ She tried for a laugh and failed. ‘You did warn me about that.’
‘It would if I asked for anything in return,’ Ivo said.
‘Thank you, but I shall return home to Dorset, having made it clear that I have refused your most flattering offer. No doubt I will be in disgrace with my parents for months, but I will be no worse off than I was before.’
‘You will be very much worse off when the gossip reaches the ladies of your neighbourhood—and it will—and they learn that you were declaring yourself betrothed to the Earl of Kendall in the street one day and jilting him the next, once your parents arrived. Goodness knows what the tale to explain that will be, but I have no doubt that it will be lurid enough to make you the talk of the county for months.’
‘Oh, those wretched chairmen! Why did they have to take a fit of gallantry just then?’ She glanced up and saw Ivo’s mouth twist into a wry smile. ‘And there is no need for you to look like that, I am quite well aware that it was all my fault. I thought that if I said I was your betrothed it would make the story of an argument more plausible.’
‘Because betrothed couples will surely argue?’ he asked with a flash of the old laughter back in his eyes. ‘Jane, will you accept the inevitable? It is not only for your sake, you know—your parents and your cousin will be saved much distress and anxiety. My grandfather is ready to accept it now he realises that I am not going to dance to his tune and marry to order.’
‘And it would be best for your reputation,’ she said, making the argument that he would not.
Ivo made a dismissive gesture with his free hand.
‘Tell me one thing, then.’
‘Anything.’
‘Is there anyone who has hopes of you? Are you in love with anyone?’