Her One True Love by Rachel Brimble Page A

laughter. Now she would create a life that meant more than being the dutiful daughter of a wealthy land owner and her mother’s lifelong companion. Those days were well and truly behind her.
    Eventually the grade of the streets grew steeper until the horses’ hooves clip-clopped over the cobblestones of Gay Street, higher still, into the Circus. Her inheritance was situated on the end of one of the three curved rows of houses that made up the circumference of John the Elder’s beautiful Georgian structure of residential homes.
    Matthew had already instructed his groom to her father’s address, having been his visitor several times while in the city on business.
    The carriage drew to a stop outside her new home and Jane stared up at the three-story house. The carriage swayed as Matthew stood and swung open the door. The cold blast of air blew his masculine scent across her, and Jane took a deep breath, sending up silent gratitude that she had at least made it through the first part of her new beginning, considerably unscathed.
    She had no idea if her comments to Matthew about her heartbreak had come across with the cryptic intent she’d hoped for. If he had any suspicions of the depth of her previous feelings for him, she caught no glimpse of it in his expression. Long may his ignorance last. His discovery of her love for him now would be nothing short of mortifying.
    Matthew held out his hand to her at the door, and Jane slipped her reticule onto her wrist before laying her hand in his. Pushing her fears of potential humiliation far from her mind, she stepped onto the cobbled road. Matthew would soon be gone from the city, and then her new life would truly begin. The November evening held a chill, but the air was cleaner and clearer at the elevated height above the city. Jane breathed deep as nerves battled with excitement in her stomach.
    The house’s façade was beautiful, and she couldn’t wait to get inside. Her father had always kept the place to himself, preferring the family stay in her mother’s friend’s house during the seasons he deigned they could come. Jane suspected the house would be as staid and impersonal as Noel Danes. She smiled softly. She would change the décor to her own liking soon enough.
    There was a rustle of clothes behind her and Jeannie came to stand beside her. Jane glanced at her and her smile widened to see Jeannie’s delighted gaze as she stared at the house.
    â€œShall we?”
    Jane started at the sound of Matthew’s voice as he leaned close, his masculine scent drifting beneath her nostrils once more.
    â€œOf course.” She opened her reticule and pulled the front door key from the little pocket inside. Her key. Her very own home. Pride swelled her heart as the final, confused connotations of her father’s surprise bequest slipped away.
    He had been proven right in his decision to leave Monica the Marksville estate. Maybe he would also be right in his decision to leave Jane his Bath property. With a final fleeting glance behind her at the circular parade, Jane stepped ahead of Matthew and Jeannie and walked up the short pathway to the black painted door, complete with a polished brass knocker.
    She slipped the key into the lock and pushed open the door.
    The house was in semidarkness, but with the strike of a match behind her, Matthew lit a lamp and the hallway flooded with faint light. Jane turned. Matthew carried the lit match to another lamp and the hallway illuminated further. He blew out the match. “Would you like Simmons to take your cases upstairs?”
    â€œOh. No. Not yet.” Jane smiled at Matthew’s groom, who stood just inside the doorway, one of her suitcases in each hand. “Could you bring all the luggage into the hallway for now? I’ll take everything upstairs once I know which room I’d like for my bedroom.”
    â€œAs you wish, miss.” Simmons placed the cases on the tiled floor