Odd the word choice ascribed by his sister was how Jane, too, would have described him. And yet… “You are fortunate that he at the very least cares.” Unlike her, who was the shameful, dirty secret of a lofty duke.

“I don’t doubt he loves me,” Chloe whispered, the words spoken more to herself. She fanned the pages of the top volume. “However, in his love for me, in his desire to see me protected, he would take upon himself finding a gentleman who’d suit.” With a snort she slammed closed the book. “Only, he doesn’t realize I don’t want any gentleman.” She beamed. “Why, I’m quite content to become the eccentric spinster who doesn’t give a jot for Society’s opinion.”

With that handful of words that revealed so very much of the young woman she’d serve as companion to, Jane came to the swift realization—she liked Lady Chloe Edgerton a good deal. A smile pulled at her lips. “I can only imagine how Mrs. Belden would have responded to such an opinion.”

Chloe wagged her eyebrows. “Poorly.”

A burst of laughter escaped her and she stifled it with her fingers. “Never tell me you told her your hopes for your marital state.” Or lack thereof.

Chloe gave a vigorous nod, a devilish sparkle in her eyes. “I told her quite often.”

At last Gabriel’s dismissal made sense. Any one of Mrs. Belden’s instructors would have come here staid, proper, and determined to help Lady Chloe coordinate an advantageous match.

Some of Chloe’s amusement lifted, replaced instead with a contemplativeness. “My brothers and friend, Imogen, are quite insistent that I’ll one day wed and,” she gave a wry smile, “fall in love.” The droll edge to her tone indicated Lady Chloe Edgerton was not one of those romantic sorts, with hopes of a powerful match and the dream of love all rolled perfectly together.

Clearing her throat nervously, Jane then filled the quiet. “Are you familiar with her works?” she asked, nodding to the pile as Chloe proceeded to leaf through the books. All the books in question were the products of Mrs. Wollstonecraft, the unwed philosopher and mother with two illegitimate children. With her scandalous thoughts, she’d hardly be a favored figure in polite and, most times, impolite Society.

The young lady shook her head.

Well, if he’d not sacked her already, Gabriel would likely do so for this. And yet, she had an obligation to Chloe that moved even beyond the security Jane craved that would come at the end of these two months—if she could behave.

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Alas, she’d never properly behaved.

She gestured to the stack of books. “Mrs. Wollstonecraft was an English writer.” Interest sparked in Chloe’s pretty blue eyes, and she then picked up the book she’d been toying with earlier and skimmed the cover. Her lips moved silently as she read the title.

“Mrs. Belden, your brother, Gabe—” Chloe whipped her head up and Jane’s cheeks heated at her inadvertent error. “The marquess,” she substituted lamely. “They will urge you to make a match, all the while trusting they know who will make you a good match.” Gabriel’s face flashed behind her eyes. “Perhaps he will be powerful,” she added. Her lips still burned with the imprint of his kiss. “He’ll have wealth and status, and Society thinks they know what you want, because Society believes you can’t yourself know what you want.” As Jane spoke, Chloe stilled, frozen, with her silence giving no indication as to whether she approved, disapproved, or worse, was indifferent, to Jane’s words. Regardless, Jane pressed forward. “Mrs. Wollstonecraft didn’t believe women were inferior. She believed we are uneducated and through that forced ignorance, we are treated as less than logical, rational people.”

The hum of silence met her words. Treasonous ones, Mrs. Belden had claimed. Then a slow smile turned Chloe’s lips upwards. “Mrs. Munroe—”

“Jane.”

“Mrs. Munroe, I quite like you.” She eyed the book in her hands a long moment and then set it down. “Are you certain you were one of Mrs. Belden’s instructors?”




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