“I do not think you can be that exhausted. Perhaps you may find a little vigour still, so that you may please your new husband?”
It was phrased as a question, but Jane could hear the hint of a warning in his words. There was no room for discussion. Puzzled, Jane looked up at James.
“I am weary from the journey. Might we enjoy our wedding night tomorrow?”
“Then it will not be our wedding night, but the night after. Did you not hear the ‘to honour and obey’ part of our vows?”
A tight smile fixed on his face.
“I did, but I—”
“You will do as you are told, and as you have promised,” he interjected, taking her roughly by the wrist and leading her towards the stairs.
Her heart began to hammer in her chest as he strode up the steps with her in tow.
He is simply tired, she told herself. He loves you; he has proclaimed as much, and with great fervour. This is only your fear talking— your fear of what is to come, for it is a complete unknown.
She urged herself to calm down, for there was no use in becoming frantic. It was nothing but trepidation surrounding the wedding night.
Truthfully, she did not feel that tired at all. She felt quite well; it was only her worries that kept her from giving in to a secret well of desire that burned within her.
I will warm to it once I know how to behave. I longed for this, only this morning. He is being snappish only because he is weary— he does not mean it. Once we are in our marital bed, he will show me kindness and gentleness once more. At least, that was what she told herself, as James continued to drag her up the stairs, his hand gripping her wrist so hard that it burned.
Chapter Two
The following morning, pale and dazed, with a deep ache in the pit of her stomach, Jane curled her body into a tight ball, her knees tucked into her chin. Every muscle shook violently, though she was not cold. James stood at the far side of the bedchamber, his valet dressing him for the day. How he could allow such a man into their private rooms, without so much as consulting her; she did not understand. She had only the covers to shield her dignity from the valet’s eyes, though he did not seem too perturbed by her awkward presence. Indeed, he did not say a word to her the whole time he was there. Neither did James.
“I feel unwell,” Jane whispered, as soon as the valet had gone. Her voice shook as violently as her body.
“Never mind that, my love. The breakfast gong shall be rung shortly, and my mother does so abhor tardiness. You ought to rise before you are late,” he said, flashing her a cold smile.
Tears pricked her eyes, for she did not know what had happened. They had been the picture of happiness but a day ago, and now an entirely different man stood before her.
She did not recognise him as the James she had married. Indeed, she reasoned that a changeling must have come for him whilst they slept in the carriage and had left this impostor in his place. It was the only explanation she could muster that did not leave her feeling utterly hollow inside.
He had not been gentle, and he had not been kind. Her skin bore the bruises of his cruel love, a purple trail dappling her pale flesh, reminding her of every grip and grasp and pinch. In the end, she had stayed still and quiet, in the hopes that he would have mercy. He had shown none. Now, even if she bathed in a thousand baths, she did not know if she would ever feel clean again.
None of it made any sense to her. Where are you, James? My James?
“I believe I ought to keep to my bed for the rest of the morning. I really do not feel like myself,” she urged.
He shot her a cold look.
“You will come down to breakfast, if I have to drag you down there myself. My mother and sister are eager to meet you, as are the children.”
Jane frowned.
“The children?”
“Yes, my three children.”
“What did you say?”
She could hardly believe her ears.
“My three children from my previous marriage,” he explained casually, though he turned his head away for a brief moment.
“My wife died in a tragic accident in January of this year— just after the New Year, in fact. I have been searching for a replacement ever since, as my children require someone to care for them. A maternal figure that they can look up to. I knew you were perfect for the position, the moment I laid eyes on you. Intelligent, soft-spoken, much too kind for your own good.”
His voice was thick with sudden emotion, but Jane could not understand the cause of such pain. It was certainly not for her benefit. She shook her head as though she had not yet woken from a vicious nightmare.
“You did not say you had been married before. You did not mention these children.” Confusion fogged her mind. “Your wife died no more than six months ago— why did you seek to wed again with such haste?”
“I did not feel that it was necessary to inform you of my previous marriage, nor did either of your parents care to ask. What does it matter to you, anyway? I have provided security and good fortune, and elegant rooms for you to use as you see fit. I am of good standing and have lost no scrap of my reputation to licentious rumour. I am not divorced, I am merely a…” he did not seem able to say the word. “You shall want for nothing, as long as you behave. Do I make myself clear?”
“I do not understand,” she whimpered, noticing that he had neglected to answer her last question. In truth, part of her already knew the answer. Convenience.
“You will come to, my dear,” he said. “Now, get out of bed. I have asked my valet to send for your new lady’s maid. I shall leave you to dress alone, if that suits you better, but I will be waiting in the hallway for you. It would not do to make an entrance without my new wife.”
With that, he swept out of the room and left Jane to the overwhelming agony of dawning realisation. He had used her. He had charmed her into marriage, and now he was bored with her company. He no longer had to keep up the pretence, for the marriage contract had been signed and the dowry exchanged. For all intents and purposes, she belonged to him.
It seemed he wished her to be little more than a governess, with a few additional advantages with which to please himself.
No, no, no, no, no… this must be a nightmare. I shall awake at any moment and find my James beside me, watching me with tender eyes and a gentle touch. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed to God that she was wrong— that he was just tired and cantankerous, or that she was still within the depths of a bad dream.
This could not be the truth. She refused to believe it, not after the things he had told her during their courtship. Every time they had met, he had confessed his love and affection, and said such sweet words that had melted her heart.
Were they rehearsed, to fool me?
She stared at the opposite wall and felt her blood run cold.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A short while later, Jane fixed a smile upon her face and exited the bedchamber. As promised, James was waiting for her. He offered his hand, which she took immediately. She did not wish to annoy him further than she already had, even if she did not know the reason for his irritation. She could not think of a single thing that she had done to prompt such a swift metamorphosis of his character.
Unless, the James she had fallen in love with was a mere fiction, invented by him to woo her.
She could not rid herself of the vile thought.
Heading down the sweeping staircase, the couple crossed the entrance hall and went down an echoing corridor of similarly beautiful decoration. Jane focussed on the tapestries and portraits that hung from the walls, admiring the figures who stared out. They gave her strength, in a moment where she feared she no longer had any left. Their soft smiles and kind eyes cheered her dejected soul.
They turned down another hallway and came to a halt beside an open door. Voices chimed pleasantly within. Jane took a deep breath and followed her husband into the dining room beyond. Beautiful, golden sunlight shone in through the windows, and an aromatic b
reeze wafted in through the open French doors at the back of the room. The flowers in the pretty garden outside, now in full bloom, were giving off their finest perfume. Jane longed to discover more of the grounds, for she had seen little in the darkness of the night before.
Five individuals sat around the dining table. An older woman with a stern, hawkish face, every feature angular and sharp, whose icy-blue eyes scrutinised Jane closely.
Next to her sat a pretty creature of similar age to Jane, with elegantly curled dark hair and the same blue eyes as the rest of the family. Her cheeks were rosy, and her warm smile instantly drew Jane’s grateful gaze. An expression of generous encouragement washed over the young lady’s face, bolstering Jane’s resolve. On the nearside edge of the table, three children got up and stood smartly at attention.
James ignored them for a moment, gesturing to the two women.
“This is my mother, the Dowager Baroness of Waterford, beside her is my sister, Miss Georgette Felling.”
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance at last,” Lady Felling said coolly.
Jane curtseyed.
“I am delighted to be here, and to meet you all. I hope we shall all become true family, in due course.”
“What a sweet creature you have taken for a wife,” the Dowager mused, her smile wry and confusing.
“Well, I hope we shall all become as family, too,” Georgette interjected. “You are most welcome here. If you like, I can show you the grounds once we have finished at breakfast?
Jane offered her first genuine smile.
“I should like that very much.”
Georgette beamed back at her
“I am certain there are alternative endeavours that my brother can distract himself with, for I am desperate to learn more of you.”
“A very fitting exercise for the pair of you,” James remarked. “I have many letters to write and should like to remain undisturbed until the afternoon. You may divert my wife at your leisure, dear sister.”
“Excellent, then it is settled.” Georgette clapped her hands together in delight, and Jane shared in her joy.
Before she could bask in her glimmer of hope, James turned his attention to the children.
“This is my eldest, Sarah,” he explained, motioning to a tall, willowy girl who stood closest. “The young lady beside her is my only son Francis, and my youngest is Thomasina.”
All three bore a resemblance to their father, though there was a flavour of something else within their features. Sarah’s hair was much lighter than their father’s, and her features were less prominent. Francis was slight for his age, yet he favoured his father most. Thomasina had the same dark hair as James, but her eyes bordered more on the green side of things. Either way, they all looked delightful in their neat clothes, their faces clean and fresh. Jane enjoyed the company of children, but the shock of their presence had yet to subside.
She had not been able to prepare for such an introduction and her reaction showed that.
“It is… a pleasant thing indeed, to be acquainted with you,” she said stiffly.
They bowed and curtseyed, though they said nothing. Evidently, the feeling of confusion and uncertainty was mutual. She wondered if James had told them of her arrival, or her position as their stepmother. It did not seem as though he had. They eyed her warily, waiting for their father to sit before they took to their seats again.
Moving around to Georgette’s side of the table, Jane sat down beside her. It meant she had to look into the stares of the children, but at least she had some semblance of an ally at her side.
“I have prepared a schoolroom for the children, James, in your absence,” the Dowager said, as the staff began to serve breakfast. “I trust your wife will not mind teaching them for a while, before a governess can be sourced?”
Jane gulped.
“I do not mind, My Lady.”
“Excellent. I hoped you would not.”
Georgette nudged Jane’s arm, lowering her voice to a whisper.
“I shall assist you, worry not.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, her hands shaking as she picked up her knife and fork.
All of this was too overwhelming. It was as though she had entered some kind of obscure reality, in which everything had been taken from her without her even realising. Her freedom, her mind, her love, her heart. All of it belonged to James now, whether she liked it or not. Indeed, it was all she could do to focus on the plate in front of her and lift each forkful to her mouth.
Chapter Three
A fortnight had passed at the Waterford Estate, and Jane had never felt more alone in all of her short life.
Each morning, she rose in a state of increasing weariness, her face pale and drawn as she looked in the mirror.
Sleep brought no respite, for it held dreams of the life she had hoped for, each one turning into the nightmare of dawn’s harsh reality. James visited her each night, but departed as soon as he was finished with her, with no gentle touch to warm her through the solitary hours that gaped like bleak oblivion afterwards.
Seeking some scrap of comfort, she went to her writing bureau and took out ink, a quill, and a fresh sheet to write upon. Tears began to roll down her cheek as she touched the scratching nib to the virgin paper.
She did not know where to begin, nor what she might try to elucidate to the family she missed with every fractured fragment of her broken heart.
My dearest Claudine,
I pray with every fibre of my being that this letter finds you well, for you have been in my thoughts ever since I departed. Married life is not what I had expected, and I fear I am ill-suited to the practice. You see, my husband is not quite the gentleman I thought him to be. I did not see it whilst we were courting, but it would appear that I mistook his character. He has fooled me, Claudine. He has tricked me into living a life I do not want, nor asked for.
He has children, Claudine. He was married previously, though I do not know the entirety of the situation. His wife died, that is all I know, and now I am expected to pick up the mantle that she left behind. Indeed, one of the children, his son, is poorly indeed, and although it pains me to say so, I cannot help but fear I may be valued only for the sake of bringing forth another son.
The Baron has deceived me, and has grown cold and cruel in a way that has shocked me to my very core. I was aware that marriage could be trying at times, but this is intolerable. The change in him was so sudden that I have been left reeling. I was charmed with a lie and now I do not know what I am to do.
How I long to come home and forget that any of this ever happened. I suppose it is too late for all of that.
Please, do not tell our dear aunt and uncle of my suffering, for it would break their hearts. They thought they were doing the right thing when they agreed to the engagement, because I seemed so utterly in love with James.
In truth, I was. Part of me still is, though it longs for the man I met in York, and not the man who prowls around this house like a beast. He causes me great pain, dearest sister — pain I did not know could even exist. My heart, body, and soul has been crushed beneath his boot.
I miss you so. I should feel better if I could only have you close, where you might shelter me from his violence. Might you find time to come and visit me in Northumberland? I would welcome your visit with open arms. Consider this an open invitation, to visit at your leisure, and bring me back a sliver of my sanity. I fear I am losing hold of it, beloved sister.
My thoughts are crumbling. I do not recognise myself in the looking glass. Truly, I doubt you would recognise me, either. You see, a ghost has taken the place of who I once was, and I have no idea how to resurrect my former self.
Please come to my aid. I need you.
Fondest regards, your sister,
Jane.
Feeling a weight lifted from her heavy shoulders, she folded the letter into a perfect square and stamped her seal into the molten wax that dripped onto the vellum. Her sister, Claudine, would
bring her happiness again. Throughout their childhood, she had always been there to calm Jane’s nerves and make her see the best in all things. Jane hoped she would do so again, at a time of great need. If she could not find something to cling hold of, she dreaded what may come. After only two weeks of marriage, she was at the end of her tether.
Her sole joy in this place was Georgette and the estate’s exquisite grounds. After lunch, they would take a turn about the glorious gardens, with their richly coloured flowerbeds of vibrant tulips, purple begonias, sweet roses, and sprigs of cheerful lavender. The aroma of the blooms filled every sense, wafting around her like an invisible blanket to soothe away her worries. In the gardens and the hedge maze at the back of the house, she found peace. Sometimes, she would get lost in the towering walls of privet and evergreen on purpose, just to steal a moment’s serenity.
Clutching the letter to her breast, she rose from her desk and left her bedchamber. The children would be awaiting her, and James would be cross if he discovered she had arrived late to their daily lessons.
Not that the children themselves cared if she came to them or not. Their coldness towards her had remained, but she did not blame them for their icy front. Their own little hearts were surrounded by a blockade of grief at losing their beloved mother, and finding an impostor in their midst without consultation or warning. Truly, their mother’s spirit lingered in every room, and upon the tongues of every inhabitant of the house.
James would not mention her name aloud, but Jane knew he thought of her often, if not always. How could she contend with a phantom? Set against such a pedestal, she had always been destined to lose.
“My dear, what are you doing in your chambers at such an hour?” James’ voice caught her off-guard. She froze on the landing, meeting his icy gaze.
“I… there was something I needed to do before going to the schoolroom,” she replied, with a forced smile. Even now, she hoped she could change James’ attitude with her charm and good-humour, though both qualities were waning within her.
Rescuing Lady Jane Page 2