At The Stroke Of Midnight: Tales From Seldon Park, #3

By Bethany M. Sefchick

Lady Jane Ashford has been known as "Plain Jane" for as long as she can remember.  Never a favorite with the gentlemen of the ton, she has remained on the fringes of ballrooms for years until one night at the height of the season, she encounters a man who is everything she has ever desired - Lord Sebastian St. Giles, the dashing and much-sought-after Earl of Covington - and in an instant, her heart is lost.

Captivated by Lady Jane, Sebastian is determined to make her his, at least until business calls him out of London.  When he returns, he is dismayed to discover that in his absence, his mother has taken it upon herself to select his bride, and she has chosen the worst possible candidate, Jane's half-sister, Lady Elizabeth.

Now as Christmas fast approaches, Sebastian is forced to attend a house party where he is expected to announce his betrothal to Lady Elizabeth.  Except that he cannot forget about Jane, the woman he truly desires.  Unable to resist her, he finds himself spending every spare moment in her company, often times in the dark of night.  Will he find a way to make Jane his by the time the clock strikes midnight on Christmas Eve or will their fairy tale romance end before it even begins?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bethany M. Sefchick
• Release date: Nov 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9781386592686

Bethany M. Sefchick

Making her home in the mountains of central Pennsylvania, Bethany Sefchick lives with her husband, Ed, and a plethora of Betta fish that she’s constantly finding new ways to entertain. In addition to writing, Bethany owns a jewelry company, Easily Distracted Designs. It should be noted that the owner of the titular Selon Park - one Lord Nicholas Rosemont, the Duke of Candlewood, a.k.a. "The Bloody Duke" - first appeared in her mind when she was eighteen years old and had no idea what to make of him, or of his slightly snarky smile.  She has been attempting to dislodge him ever since - with absolutely no success. When not penning romance novels or creating sparkly treasures, she enjoys cooking, scrapbooking, and lavishing attention on any stray cats who happen to be hanging around. She always enjoys hearing from her fans at: [e-mail]

Book preview

Chapter One

April 1819

Well, I believe this qualifies as yet another horrific Devonmont musicale.  We are earning something of a reputation in that regard, I fear.  Lady Jane Ashford, the daughter of the Earl of Devonmont, watched as Marcus Cheltenham, the current Viscount Breckenright, and Benjamin Sinclair, the Duke of Radcliffe hauled a still protesting - and rather obviously foxed - Lord Norton Drake from her father's ballroom.  Lady Julia Radcliffe, Sinclair's wife, trailed serenely behind them, as if she had not just witnessed her husband and the brother of her best friend threatening to dispatch the young Lord Drake in any number of terrible - not to mention rather inventive - ways.

Beside Jane, her friend Lady Caroline Turner did her best to hide her laughter.  "Look at it this way.  No one will want to miss next year's event.  For two years in a row your musicale has proven to be one of the most talked about events of the entire season.  That is a feat many of the ton's most elite hostesses cannot claim."  

Caroline was, of course, referring to the previous year when the misses Henrietta Cartwright and Letitia Worth had publicly shamed Lady Julia at Jane's event, causing Radcliffe to swoop in to defend her like a fairy tale knight in shining armor.  Many in the ton credited that specific moment as the beginning of what was now considered to be one of the greatest love matches that society had ever witnessed.  That Lady Julia and the duke were now blissfully happy and as rumor had it, with a child on the way, that only added to the mystique.

As I am certain Lady X will no doubt be quick to point out, Jane sighed with just a hint of melancholy.  She did not bother to mention to Caroline that, if her father and stepmother had their way, this was the last musicale Jane would perform at.  Ever.

Laying a hand on her friend's arm, Caroline's eyes glowed with what looked suspiciously like pity.  She is not as bad as all that.  In fact, I believe that Lady X will talk up your event, not disparage it.

Jane turned away rather than allow her friend to see the true depth of her hurt.  I pray that you are correct.  For I am certain that my stepmother will not abide a scandal, even a small one, when she is so desperate to land a title for Lizzie.  However, in Jane's mind, what Angeline and her willful daughter desired was no longer of any consequence.  Nor did it matter what Lady X wrote about the evening's events.  There would not be another musicale.  However Caroline didn't know that.  Yet.

For a long moment, the two friends stood there in silence watching the rest of the guests mill about and exchange gossip as the orchestra tuned up to begin the first set.  Jane was to have preformed that night before the dancing began, just a small piece on the pianoforte meant to showcase her musical talents.  However after the quarrel, which had ended immediately after the viscount had punched Lord Drake squarely in the jaw, Jane's father thought that dancing might help to soothe the remaining guests.

There would be no need for her to play he had said, as Jane's stepmother hovered nearby, soothing her own daughter - and Jane's half-sister - Elizabeth.  It would only make the evening more confusing and could hurt Lizzie's, as she was called by family and friends, chances of making a successful match during this, her debut season.  Being the good daughter that she was, Jane had merely nodded mutely and turned away before her father could see the tears that pricked at her eyes.  Not that he was likely to care.  He never did.

Most young women hated to be on display like so many bonnets, as Caroline often remarked.  Jane did not.  Oh, it was not that she had a great desire to perform for crowds, certainly, as that would be unladylike, not to mention unbecoming for the daughter of an earl.  Rather it was because she loved to play the pianoforte, and, were she being completely honest, she thought that she was rather good at it.  Even if she wasn't, in Jane's mind it didn't matter.

When her fingers flew over the keys and the power of the music swelled inside of her, Jane felt freer than at any other point in her life.  The music was her expression, her passion.  She created the notes.  She created the music.  And in her restricted world where she could do little else, the music was the one thing that fed her soul and kept her happy.

Not tonight.  Tonight, as was the case most nights as of late, her father chose to side with his new wife and picked the potential success of his second daughter over the needs and feelings of his first.

Not that Jane could precisely blame him, however.

Lizzie was the beauty of the family with cornflower blue eyes, pale skin and honey gold hair that was the envy of just about all the other debutantes that season.  She was just the right height, with just the right amount of curves and the most angelic smile of any girl in all of England.  At least according to her mother.

In truth, Jane could not disagree.  Especially not when compared to Jane herself.  At five and twenty, Jane knew that any charms she might have possessed had dimmed significantly when she failed to make a match at the end of her first season.  At the time, it hadn't bothered her.  After all, her friends Lady Caroline and Lady Amy had not made matches either.  Things had changed over time, however, and while Caroline became a much-sought-after enigma of a woman, and Amy had risen to become The Paragon of the ton, Jane had stayed precisely where she was - overlooked and un-remarked upon.

This year, though, things were changing.  Quickly.  Amy was clearly enamored with Dr. Gibson Blackwell, the would-be Viscount of Ardenton, and he with her.  There was a scandal brewing between them to be certain, but neither seemed inclined to care, and Jane was happy for her friend.  As for Caroline?  Well, if the way her gaze followed the retreating form of the Viscount Breckenright was any indication, Caroline clearly longed to be more than friends with the man who had been her steadfast companion and friend when they were children.  If the heated glance Marcus had given Caro in return was also something to judge by, then he, too, was seriously considering the possibility of renewing that friendship and quickly.

As for Jane herself?  She was another story entirely.  And she was still overlooked.  By almost everyone.

Amy and Caroline were true diamonds of the first water.  They were beautiful, elegant, poised and as circumspect as any young lady could hope to be.  Jane?  Well, to put it delicately, she was not.

At a smidge over five foot ten inches, she was far taller than was considered fashionable, not to mention that she towered over a good many aristocratic men, who, at least in Jane's opinion had been bred over the years to be rather on the short side.  She was also far curvier than she should be, with generous hips and breasts.  Too generous, if one asked Angeline, her stepmother.  Which happened rather a lot in Jane's opinion.  At least to hear Angeline tell it.

Then there was the matter of her hair.  In her youth it had been a fiery red that had thankfully deepened to a lovely copper hue threaded with strands of mahogany, gold and bronze.  Even though Jane privately liked her hair, it was still not the color to wish for at all, no matter the season.  Combined with her gray-green eyes, the traces of her deceased mother's Scottish ancestry were rather obvious.

When she was a child, and when her mother had still been alive, Jane's father had celebrated the fact that his daughter looked so much like his beloved Catronia, a Highland beauty and daughter of a viscount that he had quite literally swept off her feet.  Then, when Jane was six, her mother had died of a fever.  Barely a year later, and to some hint of scandal, Charles Ashford, the fourth Earl of Devonmont had taken a new wife.

Their first child, the golden haired Lizzie, had been born less than a year later, followed in even quicker succession by a son.  Jane's half-brother William, who was heir to the Devonmont earldom, was still away at school, but his absence from the family home didn't matter.  He was the heir so therefore, he would always hold a place of honor.  Just like Lizzie, the golden child.  It was clear, to Jane anyway, that her father now favored his new family over his old one.

Which left her precisely nowhere.  With her unremarkable looks and no one to champion her, she had been passed over season after season, though she supposed she should consider herself fortunate that she had been given a season at all, let alone many.  Now, with her advancing age, it was clear that Angeline was worried that Jane's near spinster status would reflect poorly on Lizzie and hurt her own daughter's chances for making a brilliant match.

Given the way the young bucks all clamored for even a mere scrap of Lizzie 's attention, Jane didn't think that was likely, but she was in no position to argue.  It was the same reason why, when her father had gently suggested that this be Jane's last season, and that she perhaps consider seeking out a position as a governess or a teacher at one of the new ladies' finishing schools in the outer reaches of England, she did not protest.

Just as she had not protested tonight when he had suggested, gently but firmly of course, that she not play.  Instead, she had just nodded like the good daughter she was.  Inside, however, she was both heartbroken and seething with anger at the same time.  It made for a curious mix of feelings in the vicinity of her stomach, one she was not at all certain she liked.

Only Caroline, who now looked at her with some measure of suspicion, came close to even guessing the truth of how Jane truly felt.

Jane?  Did you hear anything that I just said? Caroline was looking at her with some measure of concern, and Jane knew she had been foolish enough to let her mask of cool and polite calm slip.  Just a little.  Do I need to fetch a doctor?  Or perhaps see if Dr. Blackwell is still waiting to depart?

Shaking her head, Jane offered her friend a small smile.  No, Caro.  I am fine.  Truly.  Just a little tired, I think.  It has been a long week.  Mostly of new dress fittings for Lizzie, but she didn't mention that.

As long as you are well.  Then Caro frowned, small lines marring her otherwise smooth skin.  I worry about you, Jane.  If there was something truly amiss, you would tell me, would you not?  I am your friend, and I do not wish to see you unhappy.  At thirty years of age, Caroline was a bit older than Jane, but the two were good friends anyway, probably because Jane herself had never really been a child.  Oh, she had been young in years certainly, but everyone always remarked at how Jane had always seemed like a miniature adult, even when she was still falling down and skinning her knees in the nursery.  After her mother had died, it had only gotten worse.

Inclining her head, Jane attempted a cheerier smile.  I am well, Caro.  I swear.  Were I not, I would tell you.  I promise.  And she would.  Just as she would tell Caroline about her father's decision regarding the musicales at some point in the near future.  But not tonight.  It was too soon.  He had only just announced his decision the previous morning and the wound was still too fresh.  Soon though.  She would tell Caroline soon.

I shall hold you to that, Caroline vowed as she linked arms with Jane and began leading her through the crowd.  But for now, I think a glass of lemonade might be in order.  I, for one, am parched after all of that excitement.  And your family's cook does prepare an excellent lemonade.

As the two women made their way through the crowd, Jane could overhead snippets of conversation, most of it gossip about what had just transpired between the doctor, the duke, the viscount, and Drake.  A few however, were whispering about Jane herself, and about how chances of her making a match on the marriage mart were dimming rapidly, especially since she had not been able to display her musical skills earlier.

Those comments were to be expected, Jane decided as she accepted a glass of lemonade from Caroline.  After all, she would be six and twenty in the fall, with numerous failed seasons behind her.  Too old, really, to make a match, even a poor one.  Too plain for any man to desire her as a wife.  Too unsuitable for any but the most desperate of fortune hunters.

The tears that she had somehow kept at bay earlier threatened to fall now, but she had more pride than to allow anyone to see her.  She was about to excuse herself to Caroline when she turned and ran smack into the one thing she never expected - a man who was taller than she was - thereby sending several glasses of lemonade as well as a plate of tea cakes crashing to the floor.

My sincerest apologies.  I am so very sorry, Jane gasped, feeling her face immediately redden and prayed that Angeline had not seen her nearly trip and fall directly into an unknown man.  I was not watching where I was going.  I will find a maid to clean this mess up.  I am forever being clumsy.  Then she looked up and into the deepest, most swoon-inducing brown eyes she had ever seen and forgot everything else she was going to say.

As their gazes locked, she felt something akin to lightning pass through her body, every inch of her coming alive as she stared into the man's dark eyes.  She did not think she could look away even if she wanted to, and, at present, she had no desire to do so.  She felt her toes curl in her satin slippers and knew a flush was beginning to creep further up her neck.

Much to her dismay, she also felt her breasts grow heavy and was fairly certain that other, not to mention extremely pleasant changes were occurring inside of her.  Her breathing was shallow and she felt as if she might swoon where she stood.  Given the way the stranger looked, it was little wonder that he was affecting her thus.

The man was remarkably tall and dressed completely in black evening clothes.  With only the stark white of his shirt and cravat visible, he appeared even taller.  At least to Jane.  He was broad-shouldered with a narrow waist, and when she risked a downward glance, possessed the most well-muscled legs she had ever seen.  His thick, lustrous brown hair was curly, and perhaps, were it a shade longer, a bit unruly as well.

It was his eyes though, that held her completely captive, making her forget how to breathe for a moment.  If eyes could smile, this man's did.  And they were smiling at her.  Plain Jane.  The spinster nobody wanted.

It was I who was being absent minded, he said with a smile, revealing perfect, even white teeth.  No, not perfect she realized quickly.  His canine teeth turned in a bit at the edges and were longer than the others by a small bit.  It made him seem more human, as did his husky, almost smoky baritone, which warmed her all the way to her toes.  Oddly, it seemed that he was just as affected as she, something that she considered nothing short of a minor miracle.  At the very least, he was not berating her and did not seem all that angry.  More amused than anything, were she to give the expression on his face a name.

Ahem.  That came from Caroline and Jane immediately tore her eyes away from the stranger to look back at her friend.  She was probably embarrassed that Jane had been so clumsy.  Or that she was staring so outrageously at a man to whom she had not been introduced.

Except that she wasn't.

Instead, Caroline was smiling, that same secretive smile that she gave when anyone asked her a question she did not particularly want to answer.  Jane, she said with a twinkle in her eye, may I present Lord Sebastian St. Giles, the fifth Earl of Covington.  He is a bit of a rake, but do not allow that to frighten you.  I have it on excellent authority that, at heart, he is a good man.  At that, Jane dropped into a deep curtsey, one that would have made her mother proud.  Or she liked to think that it would have anyway.

Then Caroline turned to the man whose shoes Jane had probably ruined and graced him with one of her infamous Caroline the Lady of Mystery smiles.  And, my lord, may I introduce Lady Jane Ashford, the eldest daughter of the Earl of Devonmont.  The man bowed low and once more, Jane was struck by the sheer size of his body and wondered, just for a moment, at the strength and power it must contain.

Caroline gave Jane a quick smirk, obviously noticing how taken Jane was with the newcomer.  Lady Jane was supposed to perform on the pianoforte for us tonight.  After all, this was to be a musicale.  However, I am afraid that her father has decided that it would not be proper after all the excitement.

A pity, the earl offered, still smiling, and, in that moment, Jane wondered if he might not be a bit addled in the head.  Which would truly be unfortunate given the way he made her stomach flutter.  Men, at least in her experience, did not smile at her.  They gave her a polite grimace and then turned away.  She knew this.  Obviously, this man did not understand the way of things.  I should have liked to hear you perform.  I am given to understand that you are quite good.

Jane laughed.  She could not help herself.  No one, especially no one from the aristocracy, remarked on the quality of her playing.  She was good, of course.  She knew it.  However, she was also far too plain and undesirable to be seen as a good match for anyone, so therefore there was no need to sing the praises of her talents.  On the other hand, Lizzie, who was only a passable singer at best, was constantly being praised as possessing the voice of an angel.

I am not certain whom you have been speaking to, my lord, but I am afraid that perhaps they are tone deaf.  Jane always belittled her own talent, at least in public.  It was the acceptable and proper thing to do.  Proper young ladies did not boast.  Well, unless they were Lizzie, according to Angeline, who had every right to do so because she was so remarkable.  It was only in the privacy of Jane's own musings in a little notebook she kept hidden under her bed that she admitted that she was a decent musician.  Actually, better than decent.  She was very, very good.

Jane!  Caroline clearly was horrified this time.

However, the earl held up his hand, fully laughing now, but not at her, Jane quickly realized.  But rather with her.  As if he knew she had deliberately lied about her skills.  As if he knew that she was far, far better than she admitted.  No, no, my lady.  It is astoundingly refreshing to meet a lovely young woman who is honest enough to admit her shortcomings rather than expound on non-existent talent.  I so tire of that prattle rather quickly, I'm afraid.  Better to know a woman's failings up front, I say.  The twinkle in his eyes let Jane know that he was joking and she found herself becoming a little more enchanted with the man in front of her.  As if she wasn't quite taken with him already.

Then it will please you to know, my lord, that I am also equally as horrid at watercolors and embroidery, though I do try.  After all, what young lady does not wish to at least appear skilled at all of the feminine arts?  Then Jane smiled serenely, as if this sort of discussion was a common occurrence.  In turn, the earl smiled back and she thought she saw a spark of true interest flare in his eyes.  He was enjoying this; so was she.

Jane did not talk this way.  Ever.  She did not say what she thought or use sarcasm.  She did not flirt or skirt the boundaries of propriety - which she was most certainly doing at the moment.  She was always unfailingly polite, even to the point where she thought her teeth might crack from false smiles.  She told pretty lies and demurred when asked about her skills.  She was always the perfect lady.  The perfect, overlooked wallflower.

So whether it was the events of the evening or the realization that, in some ways, it no longer mattered what she said or did because she was to be banished at the end of the season, Jane decided in that moment to allow her true personality to shine through.  She would be brazen and reckless and daring.  She would say slightly scandalous things and tease this man.  He seemed willing enough to play the game and for once, she was enjoying herself.

With this man,