But before she could step outside on the terrace and see if James was out there, she was intercepted by Mrs. Fontaine, who asked her to help Cook in the kitchen since Tilly was feeling a bit under the weather.
This kept her busy until after dinner. By the time she was done cleaning the dishes, it was past ten o’clock. So rather than look for James any further, she chose to retire and wait for him in her chamber. But whether or not he came to see her, she did not know. She woke the next morning, aware she’d fallen asleep before managing to read a full page of the book she’d borrowed from the library.
Well, at least she’d gotten a good night’s rest and was ready to face the day with a bit more spring to her step than usual. Which was necessary since she had to help not only prepare the breakfast but also serve it. Thankfully, Margaret helped with the trays that had to be brought up to Lady Camden and Lady Rockwell, so Jane would not have to face either woman.
Having to do so this early in the day would definitely put a damper on things, that was for sure. Still, it did not prevent her from having to face the lovely Lady Elise, who was prettily attired in a stunning riding habit and a cute little hat adorned with a large feather plume.
“I do wish Camden was up,” Lady Elise was saying when Jane arrived with a tray filled with plates of food. “But since he is not, I hope you and Harrington will join me for a ride, Rockwell. We could even have a race.”
“Sounds like a delightful suggestion,” Rockwell murmured while Jane began arranging the plates on the sideboard. “Are you up for it Harrington?”
“Absolutely,” Harrington said. “It’s been days since I have enjoyed a bit of sport. I could do with the activity, you know?”
With her chore completed, Jane returned to the kitchen. “The guests are having their breakfast and intend to go for a ride immediately after, so I intend to go and clean their rooms now,” she told Mrs. Fontaine, who glanced at her just long enough to okay this decision with a nod before returning to the conversation she was having with Cook about that evening’s meal.
Leaving them to it, Jane headed upstairs and went straight toward James’s bedroom. She had to speak with him about Goodard. So she knocked gently on his door and then slipped inside the room without waiting for a response. And then she froze, because there he was, God help her, sprawled out on the bed face down, so she was presented with the finest view of his butt.
He opened a sleepy eye and squinted in her direction while she quietly closed the door behind her, locking it for good measure because…Jesus! Anyone could have walked right in and seen him like this. The thought of Lady Elise doing so…Jane’s grip on the door handle tightened, even though she knew the other woman would likely have fainted. She certainly wouldn’t have known what to do with a naked earl who looked like a mythical God.
Heart fluttering, Jane approached the bed.
A smile tugged at James’s lips, and his arm reached out, luring her to him.
“What a lovely sight to wake up to,” he murmured when she was within his reach. His hand avoided hers, going instead to her thigh.
“Not as lovely a sight as mine. I assure you.” Her voice had gone slightly breathless, no doubt because his fingers were gently massaging her flesh through her skirts. Heat surged inside her, pooling low in her belly and filling her with a shameless amount of need.
He grinned and caught her waist, dragging her down as he turned himself over, so she fell with her breasts pressing into his chest and her legs tangling with his.
“You like seeing me like this, do you?” Wickedness gleamed in his eyes, then he kissed her, ferociously as if he was starved. The effect immediately heightened her own desire, and she greedily kissed him back, loving the feel of his hands in her hair, the warmth and the hardness of his body lying beneath her.
“You’re amazing,” she whispered, because saying she loved him…well, she wasn’t quite ready for that just yet. Not until she was 200 percent sure.
“And you, my little maid, are the most sinful fantasy come to life.” He kissed her again, harder than before while his hands moved lower, tugging at her skirts and reaching beneath until he found the access he sought.
She sighed in response to his touch and welcomed their joining with a groan of pleasure.
“Yes,” he murmured while she moved over him, loving him with her body and showing him, without the use of words, how deeply she cared.
It was beautiful in a life-altering sort of way. Much more so than the first time they’d done it, because this time her heart was completely invested. “I cannot stay,” she told him regrettably, preventing him from pulling her down to lie next to him when they were finished.
She smoothed her skirts and straightened. Noting the look of adoration in his eyes, her heart thrummed with joy. “Perhaps I should come to check on you more often,” she said with a wry grin.
His eyes darkened. “Come as often as you like,” he murmured, his tone so suggestive she knew he intended the pun. Which of course made her blush.
She looked away. “Perhaps you ought to get dressed.”
He chuckled and she heard the bed creaking and then the tread of footsteps as he moved across the carpet. In another second, his arms came around her in a tight embrace. “What?” he whispered against her jaw, the scrape of his stubble sending a shiver down her spine. “Am I too distracting for you?”
“Yes,” she said, not denying the effect he had on her, because really, what would be the point? “And since I have other things to do besides roll around in bed, that’s something I can’t afford right now.”
Making a deliberate effort, she stepped away from him and moved toward the window with the intention of broaching the subject of Mr. Goodard. She heard him sigh, then the rustle of fabric and the sound of him putting on clothes. Drawing the thick velvet curtain aside, she peered out into the grey exterior, her breath hitching slightly in response to the streaks of water trickling down the beveled panes of glass. “It’s raining and it looks like the wind’s picking up.”
Whatever sounds James had been making ceased. Jane placed her fingertips lightly upon the cool surface before her, tracking the path of a plump droplet.
“You should go,” he murmured, prompting her to turn toward him. His eyes, so alive with passionate sparks only moments earlier, were dead now, like flames snuffed out in a heartbeat. “It is what you have been waiting for, Jane. The storm to take you home.”
“You said.” Her eyes began to burn while her throat closed tightly around her words, squeezing until it ached. “You said you would come with me.”
He nodded. “I know. But not until I have seen justice served. I cannot allow Tatiana’s killer to go unpunished.”
She understood. Of course she did. To think it hadn’t occurred to her it would be like this, that solving the crime first would be a stipulation, was ridiculous. Struggling for breath while her heart threatened to shatter into a thousand pieces, she returned her gaze to the window. “It’s not a storm.”
“What?”
“Just some rain and a bit of wind. No thunder or lightening.” She allowed the curtain to fall back into place before turning to face him again. But it was awkward now. The compatible ease she’d felt in his company had vanished, overshadowed by her reaction toward the weather. She stepped toward him, hoping to find the right words to appease him, but he was no longer looking at her, his attention on tucking his shirt into his breeches. “James…”
“You do not have to explain it, Jane. I understand how you feel.”
“Do you?” Tears welled in her eyes as the distance between them seemed to increase. “Do you know what it is to feel as though you belong in two places at once? What it’s like to face a choice, a life-altering decision, that once made might never be undone? To not know which direction to turn because uncertainty lies in both directions, each with the promise of heartache and pain?”
His expression eased, the hard edges smoothed away as compassion entered his eyes. The edge o
f his mouth lifted, and the look he gave her, so full of pity and something far worse – something final and decisive – ripped her soul from her body. “If you are uncertain about what to do Jane, about whether to stay or whether to go, then I believe you have already made your choice, whether you know it or not.”
“What are you saying?” She didn’t want him to answer that question and yet she had asked it.
He reached for his vest and put it on quickly, buttoning the buttons with swift efficiency before going to his wardrobe and selecting a jacket. “When it comes to courtship, most men worry over having to compete with other men.” He winced while shoving his arms into the jacket sleeves. “It never occurred to me I would have to compete with the future, and frankly, I do not know how to do so or if I even can.”
“Then don’t.” Jane desperately tried to think of the right thing to say. “Let’s continue working together, to give you the closure you need so you can be ready to come with me when the chance to do so arises.”
Silence swamped her while he stared at her, his dark eyes searching her face until unease crept under her skin. It warned her, before he even spoke, that she’d said the wrong thing and lost him.
“No other woman has ever made me feel as alive as you, Jane. You have challenged me, broadened my horizon, and opened my eyes to the possibility of true love. Sharing my life with you was all I wanted. It seemed so simple, and yet it is the most complicated thing in the world. Too complicated, I fear.”
“Because I cannot stay?”
“Because whether to stay or to go is even a question for you.” His eyes shimmered and he turned away, taking a seat on the bed in order to put on his hose and shoes.
“But, you said you would come with me. I don’t—”
“Thinking you would happily make the same sacrifice for me!” He held one hose between his hands while staring down at the carpet. “I offered to give up everything for you because I wanted you to be happy, to have the life you were accustomed to and the man who…” His words trailed off, and he suddenly shook his head and pulled the hose over his foot with brisk movements. “It no longer matters, Jane. Our hearts are obviously not aligned.”
Tears fell onto her cheeks, and she quickly wiped them away before he could see. “You’re wrong about that.”
“Am I?” His gaze drove into hers with deliberate force. “Then why are we even having this conversation?”
“Because…because…” She tried to grasp for words that didn’t seem to exist. “I cannot stand the idea of having to give you up!”
With a shake of his head, he put on his other hose and proceeded to put on his shoes. “In other words, you want it all without having to sacrifice anything in return. Which brings us back to you not sharing the same affinity I feel, in which case, I fail to see the point of us even trying to be together.”
What was left of Jane’s heart dissolved into dust. “I was hoping—”
“No. I cannot do this unless I know you love me so much you would give up everything for me. Because that is the only way in which I would ever be able to give up everything for you. The certainty that at least we have each other and the kind of sustainable love that will overcome any challenges is what assured me of my decision. Except I cannot be sure of anything, least of all you or us, when it feels as though your feeling for me is but an illusion.”
“That’s not true.”
“Then stay here with me. Forget your future and be my countess. Let us face the scandal our marriage would cause together.”
He was giving her a chance – an opportunity to prove her devotion to him – but she hesitated too long, the uncertainty causing a rift in her brain and making all logical thought impossible.
Seeing this, his eyes shuttered and he strode for the door. “You may remain in my employ as long as you wish, but whatever we shared on a personal basis is effectively over. You may consider yourself free to do as you please.”
Jane stared after him as he left, while numbness clung to her body. It sank beneath her skin, filling her with a damp chill and a deep, unrelenting loneliness. He’d broken things off because she hadn’t been willing to choose him.
Perhaps he was right. Perhaps she didn’t love him enough. She certainly hadn’t been brave enough to say she did. As if in a daze, she went through the motions of making his bed while trying to examine her heart. Which was not an easy thing to do when she no longer felt as though she had one. He’d ripped it from her chest and crushed it with his words – with his need for more than what she was able to give.
And yet, she cared for him more than she’d ever cared for Geoffrey or any of the other men she’d dated. She didn’t want to have to leave him and never see him again. But to ask the world of him without being prepared to give him the same was selfish. Perhaps it did prove she wasn’t good enough for him, no matter how much she wanted to be.
Forcing herself to face this truth, she straightened his sheets and shook out his pillows until she was satisfied the bed looked perfect. Heartbreak was not a pleasant emotion and certainly not a practical one. It had been awful when Geoffrey had called things off and left her, but this was worse. This… She heaved a big breath and forced some measure of control. No. She would not allow herself to dissolve into one of those blubbering women who couldn’t think straight because of the hurt they were feeling. All things considered, that would be silly when she was the one who had made the wrong choice. If anyone ought to be heartbroken over it, it was James, whose feelings had not been reciprocated to the extent he had hoped.
Realizing this, Jane made a decision. She would push her own pain aside and focus on the case. The man she’d planned to marry just half an hour earlier had recently lost his sister. Justice had to be served, and so help her, she would do whatever it took to see that through. It was, after all, the least she could do and would hopefully give her something to think about besides mourning the loss of the man she’d been hoping to spend the rest of her life with.
Chapter 12
Enjoying a game of cards with Harrington, Rockwell, and Mr. Thompson, James did his best to forget about Jane. But it was impossible. Their conversation earlier in the day, coming right on the heels of an incredible bout of lovemaking, had broken his spirit. It was as if his life had lost its luster, and everything around him was dulled by shades of grey.
Not even his friends’ good cheer could brighten his mood, giving him a horrifying insight into the minds of those who chose to end things when it got too hard to carry on. Not that he would ever resort to such drastic measure, but he felt he understood it better now than he ever had before.
Playing an ace, he took the final trick, effectively winning the game. He looked up and tried to smile. “Thank you, gentlemen. Shall we play another round or would you prefer to go for a ride?”
Rockwell frowned. “A ride would be welcome, especially since we were stopped from going this morning because of the rain. But only if you tell us what is troubling you.”
James stood, taking the deck of cards with him with the intention of putting it back in the box where it belonged. It gave him a chance to stall and to not have to face the inquisitive eyes now on him. “I am merely concerned about solving my sister’s murder. With each passing day, it seems to grow more impossible.”
“Perhaps it was a stranger after all,” Harrington suggested. “Maybe a poacher she encountered or a thief she caught by surprise.”
Mr. Thompson, whose expression had gone from relaxed to glum at the change in subject, moved his chair back from the table and stretched out his legs. “I would like to think it was not someone she knew and trusted, even if that would mean the man is still out there.”
“Perhaps,” James conceded just as the door to the parlor opened and his mother swept into the room. She looked as somber as he felt with her black mourning gown and the sort of expression that threatened to scold.
Harrington, Rockwell, and Thompson all stood in order to greet her. She glanced at each of t
hem in turn before pinning her gaze on James. “This house feels like a mausoleum.” The comment was gravely spoken, accentuating her words. “Not exactly the ambiance one wishes to strive for when entertaining guests, Camden.”
So she was here to offer her censure. “What do you propose I do about it?”
Inviting Lady Elise and her mother had been her suggestion, so if she felt they needed entertainment, she could bloody well figure something out on her own. He was already doing his part to ensure the men he’d asked to join him were not bored out of their minds, even though he was starting to wish they would all just leave. Keeping company was no longer something he felt like doing.
“We could visit the assembly room,” she declared.
James almost choked in response, prompting a cough from which it took him a second to recover. “I beg your pardon?” His mother detested the local assembly room and had adamantly protested every effort he’d ever made to visit.
“It will liven things up,” she said, “make everyone forget about death for an evening.”
He stared at her. “You cannot be serious! Going dancing after a death in the family would be highly inappropriate. We need to wait at least a month before engaging in any social events.” How could she suggest such a thing when she’d always been such a stickler for protocol?
She waved a dismissive hand. “You need not look as though you are enjoying yourself, if that is what concerns you. Nor do you have to dance, though partnering with Lady Elise for one set would not be so very terrible.” She gave a curt nod. “Our guests deserve a bit more entertainment than what we have been providing. We owe it to them as hosts.”
“Perhaps—”
“You will not stay home if that is what you are about to suggest. We shall all attend and make the most of it. Is that understood?”
He glowered at her while wondering what it might feel like to tell her to go to the devil. Instead, he said, “You and I will discuss this later.” In a more private setting. He certainly had no intention of forcing anyone into such an exhibition.
The Girl Who Stepped Into The Past Page 16