by Anne Ashley
‘Yes, my darling,’ he responded softly, cradling her against him. ‘I came back. And here I mean to stay. And so shall you… You see, I do not think I could ever bear to be parted from you again.’
He laid his cheek gently against the soft curls, treasuring this first moment of tender contact, and did not notice the figure standing silently in the doorway, or hear the door close softly again a moment later.
Chapter Thirteen
Mary waited until the nursery-maid had taken Charles from the room before addressing the figure standing before the window. ‘You’re going to have to decide what you’re going to do. You cannot possibly carry on like this, you know.’
Jennifer continued to stare out across that section of park land with which she had grown very familiar during the past week or so. It had long since lost its power to hold her interest, but even so she made no attempt to turn her back on the view. ‘I cannot imagine what you mean.’
‘You know full well what I mean,’ Mary countered, as plainspoken as ever. ‘You’ve been up and about for almost three weeks, and yet here you are, still keeping to your room much of the time, like some feeble invalid. His lordship has the patience of a saint to put up with your megrims, so he has! To be sure he’s the most kindly, considerate soul!’
This pronouncement certainly succeeded in capturing her attention, and Jennifer swung round. ‘Kindly, considerate soul?’ she echoed, regarding her normally very sensible companion with narrowed, assessing eyes. ‘Have you been at the gin bottle again, Mary?’
‘Well, upon my…’ For perhaps the first time ever, Mary seemed momentarily lost for words. ‘What a thing to suggest! Not a drop of that demon spirit has ever touched my lips, let alone passed them, as well you know, Miss Jenny!’
‘Well, don’t rip up at me, you ill-natured shrew,’ Jennifer responded, half laughing. ‘Something must be amiss with you to say such a ridiculous thing. Wroxam a saintly man indeed!’ she scoffed. ‘You’ve certainly changed your tune.’
Mary didn’t attempt to deny it. ‘To be sure, since coming here I’ve begun to see his lordship in a different light. Any man that can love a child the way he loves that boy of his cannot be all bad. Furthermore,’ she went on, without offering her faintly bemused mistress the opportunity to argue, ‘any man that goes out searching the moment he learns that his wife is missing, continues searching until he finds her, and then remains by her bedside throughout the night, is hardly a man lacking in feelings.’
Jennifer was clearly taken aback, and it showed. With the possible exception of recalling feeling extremely nauseous when she had finally regained consciousness, she retained little memory of anything else until she had woken the following day.
‘Yes, I thought that might surprise you,’ Mary announced, with smug satisfaction, a clear image of that touching little scene she had very nearly intruded upon appearing before her mind’s eye.
Jennifer swiftly overcame her astonishment. ‘Guilty conscience, Mary, nothing more,’ she ventured, raising a shoulder in a gesture of indifference. ‘After his behaviour that morning, I suppose he felt he must go in search of me. Besides which, his concern didn’t last very long. He took himself off to London the very next day, might I remind you.’
Mary, easily detecting the peevish tone, suppressed a smile. ‘So he did. But that wasn’t until after he’d been assured by the good doctor that you were over the worst, and no longer giving cause for concern. His lordship informed me that he needed to pay an urgent visit to the capital in order to see someone without delay.’
‘Yes, I bet he did need to see someone urgently—his mistress!’ Jennifer scoffed. ‘He must have been sorely missing her attentions after several week’s abstinence!’
‘Oh, you’re hopeless when you’re in one of your stubborn moods!’ Mary retorted, raising both hands in a despairing gesture. ‘And if it concerns you that much, perhaps you should start thinking about becoming a wife, because carrying on this way won’t solve anything.’
She swung round, about to leave, when she bethought herself of something, and delved into the pocket of her apron to draw out a letter. ‘I almost forgot… This came for you this morning, and it quite slipped my mind.’
In his favourite chair, Julian sat, empty glass in hand, staring forlornly at the gradually dying embers in the hearth. The early August day had been both bright and sunny, and yet he had felt decidedly chilled after eating dinner on his own yet again, and had requested Slocombe to light the fire in his library.
It had been his intention to occupy the evening hours by working on some estate matters but, as had happened all too frequently of late, he had found it impossible to keep his mind on his work. How could he possibly concentrate when his thoughts continually dwelt on his less-than-idyllic domestic situation, and he was tormented by feelings of guilt? Perhaps if he hadn’t tried for so many weeks to convince himself that a combination of wounded pride and a thirst for revenge for keeping his son’s existence secret from him was what had prompted him to force Jennifer’s return to Wroxam Park, he might have faced reality far sooner. The truth of the matter was, of course, that he had at some point since their first encounter in London fallen deeply in love with his own wife.
Placing his empty glass on the table by his elbow, he ran his hands down his face, contorting his features. He was arrogant enough still to believe that he would one day succeed in winning her regard. None the less, what he could no longer continue to do was force her to remain under this roof against her will. He had to release her from that cruel bargain he had obliged her to make, to leave her free to come and go as she pleased and to allow her unlimited access to their son. But, dear God, by doing so he ran the risk of never rekindling her love or, worse, perhaps one day losing her to someone else!
He detected the faint click as the door opened. Supposing it to be Slocombe entering to light the candles, he didn’t immediately attempt to turn his head. When, however, no one passed his field of vision, he did take the trouble to look round.
‘Jenny?’ he murmured, uncertain, not quite able to believe the evidence of his own eyes, and fearing that he had consumed one brandy too many.
The fear was well founded, for he felt himself swaying slightly as he rose to his feet, a circumstance that his unexpected visitor was not slow to note. She had never seen him the worse for drink, but she guessed by the slight glint in his eyes, and the empty glass on the table, that he was not perfectly sober.
‘I wished to speak with you, Julian, but if it is inconvenient, I—’
‘No, no, not at all. As a matter of fact your arrival is most opportune, for there is something of importance I wish to discuss with you,’ he interrupted, his voice reassuringly steady, and so she decided to remain.
Seating herself in the chair opposite the one he had just vacated, Jennifer watched him position himself by the hearth, resting one arm on the mantelshelf, and placing one foot, encased in a highly polished top-boot, on the solid brass fender. He might not, she supposed, have been considered handsome by the vast majority of her sex, his features being a little too sharply defined and faintly harsh for masculine beauty, but no one could deny that he was a fine figure of a man, his physique wonderfully proportioned and muscular.
‘What is it that you wished to see me about, Jenny?’ he asked, forcing her to raise her eyes from their contemplation of his strong, shapely legs, and reminding her of the reason she had sought this interview.
From the moment she had apprised herself of the contents of the letter which Mary had given to her a short while ago, she had guessed the truth, and had felt so very ashamed. Seeing him had only strengthened her belief that it was indeed he who had been responsible, but she needed to be sure. Furthermore, she wished him to confess and explain his reasons for acting as he had.
‘I received a letter from Serena today,’ she confided, deciding to come straight to the point. ‘It would appear that Lord Sloane has withdrawn his offer for her hand.’
H
is lordship received this information in silence, not even by the raising of one of those expressive brows betraying the least surprise. ‘She must be feeling excessively relieved.’
His tone was dry, almost bordering on indifference. Surprisingly enough this display of sublime unconcern, far from making her doubtful, only succeeded in strengthening her belief that he had wrought the miracle.
‘Indeed she is. What she cannot understand is why he should have experienced this change of—er—heart. Moreover, she finds it impossible to comprehend what must have prompted him to return all her mother’s letters.’
There was no response at all this time, but Jennifer was not deterred. ‘One might almost suppose that Lord Sloane had suffered an attack of conscience… But I doubt very much whether he is the type of person to be troubled by that condition. Or from remorse, come to that. Therefore I’m forced to the conclusion that someone persuaded him to change his mind, or induced him to do the honourable thing.’
Jennifer rose from the chair and went across to stand before the window. Although the evening was now well advanced, there was still sufficient light for her to see across the park. This view certainly made a welcome change from the one she had been surveying from her bedchamber window during the past days, but even so it failed completely to capture her interest.
‘Serena seems to suppose that it is I who am responsible for saving her from a disastrous union. But I know differently.’ She turned again to look at him, and this time glimpsed a hint of irritation flickering over those harsh, aristocratic features. ‘I believe it was you, and that is why you paid that recent visit to the capital.
‘You’re not the only person to admire honesty, Julian,’ she continued, when once again she failed to elicit a response. ‘You might not wish to disclose what took place between you and Lord Sloane, but I do insist upon knowing precisely what sum you were forced to disburse on my behalf.’
‘You owe me nothing, Jennifer,’ he responded, after a further lengthy silence, during which he moved over to the decanters and poured out two glasses of wine. ‘I didn’t part with a penny piece, and I had no intention of you doing so either.’
Automatically accepting the glass he held out, Jennifer re-seated herself. ‘Is that the reason why you objected so strongly to my paying Lord Sloane a visit?’
‘In part, yes.’ Taking up his former stance by the grate, he looked down at her, the saturnine smile which she always found faintly unnerving curling his lips. ‘As I mentioned once before, I believe Lord Sloane would have demanded more than just money from you in return for those letters.’
‘Yes, and you thought I would have willingly paid his price!’ Jennifer returned, hackles rising at the all too vivid recollection.
‘No, I did not,’ he didn’t hesitate to assure her. ‘However, I had no intention of allowing my wife to place herself in a situation whereby she would of necessity be forced to be alone with a man of Sloane’s unsavoury reputation.’
Not quite knowing whether to feel touched by his evident concern, or annoyed by the fact that he obviously considered her unequal to the task of dealing with a man like Sloane, she said, ‘I would be the first to admit that my experience of such men has been virtually non-existent, but I believe I know the type. I’m therefore quite certain that you didn’t appeal to his better nature in order to induce him to hand over those letters, because Sloane simply doesn’t possess one.’
‘Very true, my dear,’ he concurred, smiling down at her in a way that sent her pulse racing. ‘And when dealing with such persons one must learn to ignore one’s own conscience.’
He paused to sample his wine. ‘I know something to Sloane’s discredit which, if it should become common knowledge, would ruin his reputation completely. Out of respect for his late uncle, who used to be a close friend of my father’s, I have remained silent. However, I made it perfectly plain to him, when I called to see him in London, that if he didn’t return all those letters to Lady Carstairs forthwith, and retract his offer for her daughter’s hand, I would have no hesitation in revealing the particularly unsavoury event in his past to the world at large.’
Jennifer, following his example, sampled the contents of her own glass. It was quite evident that he didn’t wish to divulge any details, and she decided not to press him for more information. Instead, she said, ‘What I quite fail to understand, Julian, is why he should have selected Serena as a prospective bride in the first place. I would have thought pretty simpletons were more in his style.’
Not for the first time he found himself admiring the brutal honesty. ‘That is easily explained, my dear. The previous holder of the title, the present Lord Sloane’s late, lamented uncle, was both honourable and shrewd. Having produced no legitimate heir, there was nothing he could do prevent his disreputable nephew from stepping into his shoes. He could, however, ensure that he didn’t inherit his private fortune. It was common knowledge that he held his nephew in low esteem, but he was not a vindictive man by any means, and decreed that should his heir contract a marriage, within six months of coming into the title, to a lady of good birth and unquestionable virtue, he would receive the lion’s share of the private fortune. If not, the money was to be divided between various other family members.
‘And given his unsavoury reputation,’ his lordship continued, ‘I suppose he felt not too many avenues would be open to him. So he looked about for a female who was unlikely to capture the interest of many gentlemen, or receive a more advantageous offer for her hand than his, and his eye fell upon Miss Carstairs. Also time was not on his side, and he had in his possession the means by which he could force the union.’
Jennifer’s lips curled into a faintly satisfied smile as she refreshed herself once more from the contents of her glass. ‘Well, he was certainly wrong about one thing, because unless I much mistake the matter, Serena has captured the interest of an extremely discerning and very likeable gentleman. By all accounts Theo is staying with a friend in Hampshire, and has paid several visits to Carstairs Hall.’
She glanced suspiciously up at him. ‘That, I suppose, was not at your contrivance?’
‘My dear, you must think me omnipotent!’ He watched one finely arched brow rise even further, and relented. ‘I may possibly have mentioned during that evening when Theo and I dined together at our club that he was looking faintly bored with life, and that a short visit to our mutual friend Sir Percy Phelps might succeed in restoring his spirits.’
‘And I do not doubt that Sir Percy, a gentleman quite unknown to me, just happens to be a close neighbour of Lord and Lady Carstairs.’
‘Now that you mention it, yes, I do believe he is.’
Hurriedly finishing off the contents of her glass, Jennifer rose to her feet, feeling more ashamed than ever now for the way she had behaved recently, incarcerating herself away in her room for much of the time, sulking like some spoilt child who had been thwarted, and treating his lordship like some kind of pariah on the odd occasion their paths had happened to cross. She could never possibly repay him for what he had done, but at least she could relieve him of one anxiety which must be continually lurking at the back of his mind.
She looked gravely up at him. ‘You asked me once to give you my word that I would never remove Charles from Wroxam Park…I give it to you now, Julian. I shall never take Charles away from here without your knowledge or consent.’
She received no response, not even the faintest visual sign that her pledge had gratified him, and moved over to the door, but turned back as something suddenly occurred to her. ‘Did you not say that there was a matter you wished to discuss with me?’
He looked across at her, his expression as before totally inscrutable. ‘Thankfully, my dear, I no longer think that will be at all necessary now.’
The promise had not been an easy one to make and Jennifer was well aware that she had burnt all her bridges by giving her word. The decision she came to make three days later caused very many hours of soul-searching, and was a
far harder one to reach, because it meant losing the daily support and companionship of two people she had come to look upon as far more than mere friends. However, she was determined not to change her mind and, in consequence, summoned both her loyal companions to her private parlour to inform them of their fate.
Patrick, not totally unhappy to learn he was to return to the land of his birth, cast a hopeful glance in Mary’s direction before asking, ‘You wish us to take care of the property in your absence, Miss Jenny, is that it?’
‘No, Patrick. I have no intention of becoming an absentee landlord. I promised James O’Connell I never would. I am giving both the house and the stud to you, providing you promise to run it together.’
‘But you can’t, Miss Jenny!’ Mary exclaimed, having been the first to overcome stunned surprise. ‘Master James left the place to you.’
‘Exactly! That is why I’m at liberty to do just as I wish with it. And I have decided to give it to you.’ Although she raised her hand against further argument, she could not forbear a smile. ‘It would make matters a great deal easier, however, if you two were to wed.’
If possible Mary appeared more stunned than before, while Patrick’s expression changed to one of comical dismay.
‘Miss Jenny, what a thing to suggest!’ Mary reproved, eventually finding her voice. ‘Patrick Fahy is the most rascally womaniser who ever drew breath. No female in her right mind would ever wed him.’
‘His faithfulness has yet to be proved; his love has not. He has been in love with you for years. And you are not indifferent to him, Mary—a fact I should have realised some time ago, and perhaps would have done had I not been so selfishly wrapped up in my own concerns. However,’ she went on, moving over to the desk to collect a letter, and a purse of money for their journey, which she handed to Patrick, ‘the decision, naturally, is yours, and yours alone.’
‘When do you want us to leave, Miss Jenny? We could be on our way this very day if you wish.’