‘Must you?’ Edward asked. ‘I hoped we might speak more and come to some sort of reconciliation. I care for you deeply, you know.’
Jonathan’s throat tightened. The admission was spoken with such sincerity and he had no doubt Edward meant it. Not enough sleep and too much to drink the previous night was taking its toll and it was too much to take in everything that he had learned.
‘I have spent a day on my own interests when I should have been at the mill.’ He could not resist adding, ‘Even if my involvement in your business is a legacy that was contrived as an inheritance of some sort, I intend to fulfil my duties to the best of my abilities.’
Edward flinched as if he had been struck. He looked away. When he met Jonathan’s gaze next he looked more wounded at his words than at any other time. Jonathan felt a surge of guilt.
‘Don’t take me for a fool, Jonathan,’ Edward said drily. ‘Whatever Christopher and I meant to each other I can assure you that if you had been anything other than capable I would never have proposed you became my partner. You got where you are thanks to your own efforts.’
The two men locked eyes. All Jonathan saw in Edward’s was the same affection and sincerity there had always been. He wondered if Edward could see any of the confusion that consumed him.
He nodded, picked up his hat and left. There was work to be done, but as he strolled to the mill his mind returned over and over to what he had learned.
One thing in particular tormented him: his father had been married to his mother while he loved another. Edward and Christopher had been denied the chance for love that was so close, yet so far out of reach. After what Aurelia had told Jonathan that morning about her own broken heart the similarities were disturbingly uncomfortable. He had to hope she had been telling the truth about not being in love any longer with the despicable Arthur. The thought that she was still pining for another man while Jonathan’s heart was hers was too terrible for him to contemplate.
Chapter Nineteen
Aurelia was waiting by the fire when Jonathan returned home. She had feared he would be as late as the previous night and return in the same state of inebriation, but he strolled through the door whistling to himself. She let go the breath that she had been holding since hearing the door and sat at the piano. Softly she began to play an old folk song she had been trying to teach Jonathan. She heard the door open, but didn’t turn to greet him. Instead she carried on playing and waited to see what he would do.
He stood at the edge of the rug; she could hear his footsteps stop. He began to whistle along with her playing, adding a harmony of his own invention. When the piece was ended she finally turned and greeted him. He strolled across the room and sat beside her. As always, she felt a flutter deep inside her as his leg brushed against her skirt and she caught a hint of the fragrance surrounding him.
‘You seem happier this evening,’ she ventured.
‘I accomplished a lot this afternoon. The new dyes will be perfect for my designs for the damask. We’ll have a fine selection to exhibit in London.’
‘We? So you settled your differences with Edward?’
‘No.’ His face changed. ‘Not yet, at least. I learned some things that I need to consider. About my past and my family.’
He took her by the hands and ran his fingers up over the inside of her wrists. The warm, firm digits on her sensitive flesh sent sparks of delight racing over her. ‘I mean we. Us. I’d like you to come with me to London. If you wish, that is.’
‘I’d like that. Very much,’ Aurelia replied. They held each other’s eyes. Jonathan was the first to break eye contact.
‘I recognise that song you were playing,’ he said.
Aurelia gave him a playfully severe look. ‘You should. It’s one I told you to practise. I don’t believe you’ve been attending to your lessons.’
Jonathan scratched his chin ruefully. ‘I know. I am a terrible pupil. I hope your boys will prove better than I am.’
Aurelia smiled, but her conscience wormed inside her belly. She was determined that the girls would be taught as well as the boys. Then she would reveal her work to Jonathan and he would have no hesitation in letting the girls learn openly. All afternoon she had talked with Dora about how to accomplish this. She disliked keeping secrets, but this one could do little harm, she reasoned.
‘It always confounds me that you can look at the holes in a Jacquard card and know exactly how the threads will wind together when you have hundreds of squares to consider, yet the keys of this piano are beyond you,’ she said.
Jonathan shrugged and laughed. ‘I know. It’s a mystery to me, too.’
* * *
Late that night as Jonathan struggled to undo the hooks and eyes of Aurelia’s corset, her mind returned to that conversation.
‘Your fingers would be nimbler if you practised your scales daily as I instructed,’ she said with a grin.
He looked at her gravely as he undid the last remaining hooks, then scooped her over his shoulder, strode to her bed and placed her on top of the coverlet. He knelt beside her and began to run his fingers up and down her belly, humming the tune from earlier. She giggled and squirmed as his fingers tickled her.
‘Jonathan! What on earth are you doing?’
‘I am practising scales as you told me,’ he said. He tapped out a rhythm as he moved his right hand from the hollow of her throat to her navel and his left from her navel to her groin. ‘You should provide the melody and tell me which end of the keyboard I should play at.’
Aurelia bit her lip and stretched out. Jonathan in a playful mood was rare, but if it stopped him brooding over his fight with Edward she was more than willing to play.
‘Which end is which?’ she asked.
‘Why don’t you hum something and find out?’ he said with a glint in his eye.
She hummed a low arpeggio and discovered the answer in a way that made her gasp out the final note. Jonathan looked pleased at the effect his ‘playing’ had. She raised her head and looked up at him through her eyelashes coyly.
‘I wonder if my pupil has mastered playing with two hands simultaneously?’ Aurelia murmured.
Jonathan lifted her hand. He brushed his lips over the knuckles while giving her a look that set her heart pounding.
‘I’m not sure. I think I should practise very thoroughly this evening. My teacher can be quite demanding, you know.’
A thrill raced through Aurelia, sending her stomach pitching up and down. ‘I think you should, too,’ she said, stretching out and letting her legs flop apart.
Jonathan flexed his fingers and bent over her. Aurelia began to hum once more and managed to get quite a long way through her tune until Jonathan’s fingers began tickling her in such a way that she was reduced to making tuneless gasps. Shortly after that they abandoned all practice.
* * *
Afterwards they lay in a lethargic tangle of limbs. The reluctance Jonathan had had and his reservations about getting her pregnant seemed to have disappeared completely. Jonathan had made no attempt to leave Aurelia’s bed, but now he let his hand fall to the floor where his discarded nightshirt lay.
‘You don’t have to go, Aurelia murmured. She slid her hand across his bare chest and downwards to settle on the hard muscles of his abdomen. She loved that part of him—the fine hairs of his chest that became a single line like a map guiding her fingers to the thicker thatch below his belly. She walked her fingers down the line and was dismayed when Jonathan took hold of her hand and gently guided it back up to his chest.
‘I will stay the night with you on condition that you let me sleep now, you insatiable creature. I must not neglect my work tomorrow and don’t have the luxury of staying in bed all morning like today.’
Aurelia settled against him and closed her eyes. Sleeping in his arms was a new and exciting pleasure enough to satisfy her. She was on the cusp of sleep when Jonathan gave
a great sigh, sounding as if the world was on his shoulders.
‘What’s wrong?’ she whispered. ‘Can’t you sleep?’
‘I’m just thinking of the past.,’ he said quietly. ‘My father loved another and my mother would not set him free. All our lives might have been so different if she had.’
‘That is a tragedy for both of them,’ Aurelia agreed. She waited to see if he would continue, but he lapsed into silence and she listened to his breathing grow slower as he fell asleep. She rolled over and lay on her side and after a moment Jonathan turned behind her, tucking his legs in the crook of hers and wrapping his arm around her shoulder as he nuzzled down behind her.
Aurelia slept uneasily. She didn’t think Jonathan loved anyone else, unless he was regretting not marrying Cassandra. Even if that were the case, Aurelia was not sure she could bear a life of loving him when that love was not returned.
* * *
Relations between Edward and Jonathan were still cool in the weeks leading up to the Great Exhibition. Edward had taken to working from his study at home, using a series of bobbin boys to relay messages to Jonathan who worked in the office on the mill site.
Sometimes Aurelia took the messages herself as an excuse to visit Edward. She was dismayed at the change in her friend who had lost most of his vitality since his argument with her husband.
‘Won’t you tell me what happened between you?’ she begged on more than one occasion, but all her entreaties were met with a firm refusal.
‘You know enough already,’ Edward said. ‘Anything Jonathan chooses to tell you is his choice and I won’t risk incurring his ire further by going behind his back.’
‘I hate to see you both at odds.’ Aurelia sighed. She finished arranging the flowers in the vase. Now it was April the blossoms were in full force and her mother’s gardens were full of hyacinth and marigolds. Edward insisted on keeping his fire lit even on the warmest day and the scent was almost too sweet for the stifling heat. It turned her stomach and made her long for the cool air of the small square her house looked on to.
‘So do I,’ Edward admitted, ‘but I fear it was a natural consequence. I am very pleased Jonathan has you, Aurelia. My suspicions were correct that he needed a wife.’
‘And an heir,’ Aurelia pointed out. ‘That’s why you told him to marry me, after all.’
Edward patted her hand. ‘Do you know, my dear, I believe that is the least of my considerations compared to the change I have seen in Jonathan since you and he married.’
Aurelia smiled inwardly. She resisted the urge to run her hand across her belly and thought to herself that her husband and friend were not the only people capable of keeping secrets. It was too soon to be certain, but she had missed the last two months’ courses. If she had counted correctly, she had moved beyond the time when she had bled in agony at Christmas.
She had said nothing to Jonathan and, though it pained her to deny them both the pleasures they enjoyed, she had maintained the pretence that she was indisposed and he was unable to visit. She would wait until they returned from the Exhibition in London when she would be more certain and Jonathan would not be so distracted with his work. May was approaching and, though everything was prepared for the transportation of the examples of silk ribbons, brocade and even a ribbon loom to the Exhibition site in London, Jonathan spent a lot of time fretting and poring over letters and plans.
Despite that Aurelia realised she had never been happier—or busier. Jonathan shared his concerns and plans with her now that he seemed determined not to speak with Edward. They spent hours discussing ideas as if she was a partner in the business. She would never have expected marriage could be so involving. If Arthur crossed her mind at all, it was only to wonder how she had ever thought a life of idle compliments and chit-chat would ever have made her happy. Life with Jonathan had turned out to be so much more than she had dreamed it could be. He might not love her, but he valued her and that was almost a good enough substitute.
* * *
The end of April arrived, bringing warm sunshine and a sense of purpose. Aurelia and Jonathan walked home as usual along the river path on a fine evening. The newly formed routine had been settled since the apprentice house had been finished two weeks earlier.
Aurelia always arrived at the house for five o’clock to instruct the two girls whose turn it was on the rota how to prepare the evening meal. Millie accompanied her and Aurelia secretly hoped that in time she would take her place as a superintendent in the house and pass on some of the housekeeping skills she had learned under Mrs Barnes. Her confidence had grown and seeing her guiding the younger children made Aurelia happy.
At six o’clock the rest of the apprentices would return home, the girls to finish preparing the meals and the boys to begin an hour of lessons with Aurelia. At seven Jonathan would arrive at the house, inspect the boys and listen in on some of the learning before escorting Aurelia back home while the children ate their supper.
What Jonathan didn’t know was that while the girls were preparing the meal Aurelia was also teaching them reading, writing and some necessary arithmetic using the recipe books and household manuals she had brought with her. Each day a different pair of girls would receive her instruction and then pass that on to the others while Aurelia taught the boys. So far it was proving effective and Aurelia looked forward with anticipation to the day when she could reveal her results to Jonathan and prove girls had an equal claim to education.
She was absorbed with thinking of this and missed what Jonathan had been saying until she realised he had grown silent and was looking at her questioningly.
‘I’m sorry, my mind was elsewhere,’ she apologised.
‘I said I have taken the liberty of booking us a suite with adjoining rooms,’ Jonathan told her. ‘I hope you don’t mind. We don’t have to use both rooms, of course...’
Aurelia squeezed his arm.
‘I’m sure whatever you have decided will be perfect,’ she assured him and she meant it, too. He was considerate and, dare she say it, loving and she could not imagine a time without him in her life. She was truly happy and the other secret she was nursing, which she was becoming more and more certain of, would seal that happiness for both of them.
She was so certain that there was nothing that could happen to end her happiness that it was doubly a blow when the moment came.
* * *
The house was in a state of disarray as Jonathan and Aurelia prepared to travel to London the following morning for the opening of the Great Exhibition. Annie was to accompany her mistress, while Jonathan’s valet had already travelled ahead to prepare the hotel for their arrival.
Since Aurelia and Jonathan now spent every night sharing one of their beds, some of their possessions had found themselves moving between rooms and it was no surprise to Aurelia when Sarah bobbed a curtsy on the landing.
‘I found your book, Mrs Harcourt.’
Sarah held out a thick book bound in brown leather.
‘This isn’t mine. What makes you think it is?’ Aurelia asked.
‘It has the odd writing you read,’ Sarah said. ‘The one that looks like shapes.
Aurelia opened the book at the first page, curious to see what the girl meant.
Η ταλαιπωρία της μητέρας μου έχει τελειώσει. Δεν έχω χάσει.
The Greek script was written in a confident hand.
‘“My mother’s suffering is ended. I am...”’ She translated the words under her breath, struggling with the final verb.
The book wasn’t hers. It was Jonathan’s. This was a diary entry.
‘Thank you. You may go now, Sarah,’ she said absentmindedly.
She had not realised Jonathan kept a diary, or that he understood Greek and could write in a hand better than her own. Fascinated, she couldn’t help herself and flicked through the volume as she wal
ked back to her sitting room. The date on the first page had been from a few years previously. He didn’t write in it every night. There were weeks with only one or two entries and three months were missing completely. Towards the middle of the book they became more frequent and one of the most recent entries caused her blood to run cold. Jonathan talked about marriage being a trial. He was unsure of his decision. Aurelia’s eyes stung. She flicked back further. She knew that to intrude into Jonathan’s thoughts was wrong, but couldn’t help herself. There had to be something, even a sentence, that would suggest he might be happy with her. She found an account of their first quarrel and deciphered it.
My wife wishes to visit the mill. Why she would like to surround herself with noise and workmen is beyond me and I will not expose her to that.
Turning the pages further back, she let her eyes fall on a list, methodically set out. She read it and immediately wished she could pluck the words from her memory, but it was too late.
She closed the book and sank into her chair, clutching the book tightly to her chest. Jonathan had listed all the reasons he should marry Cassandra. Through blurred eyes Aurelia found the page and read it again. Some were practical, dealing with the need for the land, others—the ones that were harder to read—listed Cassandra’s beauty, her wit and so on. There was no mistaking the meaning. Jonathan had even finished the entry by declaring on a fresh line his intention to marry Cassandra.
Aurelia bit her lip, feeling sick. Jonathan had only asked for her hand because Cassandra had refused him. She’d known that from the day he had proposed and had thought herself immune to any pain caused by the knowledge. To see her sister’s merits and advantages laid out so clearly with the incontestable conclusion that she was the right bride for Jonathan filled her with anguish. She stifled a sob.
Because the fact was, she had fallen in love with her husband. She hadn’t meant to and was not even sure when it had happened, but little by little through the kindness he had shown, the dedication to ensuring her happiness, the gentle touches and passionate kisses, she had come to realise what a prize she had won. She closed the book and walked out of her room to return it to Jonathan’s. She didn’t want to see the hateful volume any longer and already felt guilty for having pried into his private thoughts.
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