by Anna Small
He swiped his hand over his eyes. “I’ve been so wretchedly tired these past weeks. Marlborough and his lot won’t come to any agreement. The speeches go long into the night, and most of the time, I’m too tired to even manage the drive home.” He caressed her knee through the soft fabric of her traveling dress, which matched her pelisse and bonnet.
She’d noted the dark circles under his eyes, but when pressed, he’d shrugged it off to the stresses of Parliament. The brandy decanter in his dressing room was put to use more of late. He was also partial to a silver flask he carried in his inner pocket. When she’d asked him about it, he’d said it was a special tonic, but she’d recognized the underlying sweet scent of sherry that indicated laudanum.
“What are they fighting over now?”
She wanted to speak of anything but what was really between them. He seemed relieved the subject was one on which he could converse without emotion.
“The Regent demands a controversial bill. It has raised many a powdered hair on the wigs of both sides.”
“What is the bill? I should think if he wants something, the House should pass it.”
He snorted, but his soft expression told her it wasn’t meant for her, but for their subject of discussion. “He intends to cast off all rights and privileges owed his wife, so he may marry his mistress instead. According to some nasty rumors, he has already gone and done the very act, illegal or no.”
Jane gaped. “How can he do such a thing?”
“He is of the opinion he may do as he likes, which is not unusual for any of our exemplary monarchs.” One eyebrow rose. “We—most of us in the House, anyway—are of the opinion he may not. It is positively criminal for a man to cast off his own legally wedded wife for the sake of a strumpet.” He swiped his hand over his mouth, as if the very pronunciation of the word was distasteful. “Of course, saying so publicly could set me an appointment with a very nasty gaoler.”
Jane gazed down at his hand still clasped in hers. “Will you be able to dissuade him?”
“I do hope so. It looks particularly bad to the rest of the world if Parliament were to give in to the self-centered prattling of a spoiled boy. Henry VIII broke away from the Catholic Church for the sake of a pair of pretty eyes and look where it got him.” He shrugged. “And her.”e paused.H
She murmured assent, even though she was still shocked at the idea a man would marry his mistress while his own wife still lived.
“My brother Henry was named for that self-same king. Ironic.”
“What is?”
He settled back into the seat, raising his legs to rest on the opposite seat. “That Henry Blakeney should be as much a scoundrel as Henry Tudor. Although I do not believe my brother had as many affaires du coeur as the king. And he never beheaded any of them, at any rate.” His smile softened his words. “My brother was quite a rogue, as I’m beginning to discover. Two of his mistresses have already appeared in my rooms at White’s. Apparently, they never heard of his death. I am only too grateful Alice has no knowledge of his proclivities.”
Jane’s heart skipped. “I would not say that.”
“Oh? How do you mean?”
“Alice told me once…” She hesitated, unsure if she were betraying Alice’s trust. She inhaled sharply. “I think she knows about Henry’s mistresses.” The last word was a whisper.
“I suppose it cannot be kept too long a secret from a wife, especially if she suspects. The late hours, the perfume…”
“Jasmine,” she murmured.
“Making excuses every time he wishes to go away,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. He abruptly lifted her hand to his lips and planted a kiss there. “I am happy to have this time with you, my dear. I know how much you hate living in town. It won’t be much longer.”
“I hope so.”
“I can hardly wait to show you Dornley Park. You’ll love it there, Jane.”
The hairs on the back of her neck tingled. Could he really mean it? Would he give up London and Susanna for her? She maintained a cautious outlook until she could be absolutely certain.
“I would love to see it.”
“Did I tell you about the secret pond?” His eyes lit up with mischief.
“There’s a secret pond?”
“Yes. Henry and I, along with our cousin Felix, discovered it one summer. Well, it was probably not too secret, but to young boys, it was a veritable enchantment. It was perfect for swimming, fishing…We even made a little raft once.”
“Did it float?”
He slipped his arm around her shoulders to draw her close again. She loved this mood. Carefree and sanguine, without the worries of Parliament and the earldom on his shoulders. In less than an hour, duty, Susanna, and London had faded. Like a shimmering mirage on the horizon, a future with him seemed possible.
“It broke apart. I was only five years of age and couldn’t swim very well. Henry dashed home to find someone to fish me out, leaving Felix barking orders to swim to shore, but my clothes were tangled in the sticks and twine. Luckily, Father was home. I can still see him running behind Henry, heaving and out of breath, cursing Henry and Felix for trying to kill his helpless little boy. He jumped into the pond and ruined a perfectly good pair of boots in the process. And that was when we discovered it.”
“Discovered what?”
“The pond was about three feet deep. I could have walked to the edge. Father strapped them both soundly that day.” A slight smile touched his lips. “Strapped me, too, come to think of it.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “You were lucky you weren’t killed.”
“Believe me, a belting from Father made us wish we had been. But”—he tapped the tip of her nose—“I’ll wager you were never quite that naughty.”
She smiled, lost in remembrance. “I was the quiet one. Amelia and Rosalind tried to pull me into their schemes on a number of occasions. I think they thought if I were involved, they wouldn’t face any serious consequences.”
He nudged her shoulder. “I can imagine them trying to sway you. But you were too well-behaved for your own good, I think.”
“How do you mean?”
“You denied yourself some fun. A little mischief is good for the soul.”
“I do not believe in mischief,” she replied.
He had moved closer, his gaze on her lips. When she spoke, he pulled away, his brow furrowed in consternation. The expression vanished just as quickly as it appeared.
“You are too good for me,” he teased, but his air was not as light as his words.
She tried desperately to ease the sudden tension between them and took her former place, snug up against his side. “I don’t mean to be,” was all she could say.
He heaved a sigh. “I feel you moving farther and farther away.”
“I am right here.” The breath froze in her throat. She never understood him when he spoke in riddles.
“I meant a different kind of distance.” He reached up and brushed a wayward strand of hair from her forehead.
If there was any distance, she wanted to say, it was because of Susanna’s presence and had nothing to do with her own feelings.
“I don’t want to be distant.” Her voice choked. She stared into his eyes, willing him to read the torment eating through her heart. He pulled her into a tight embrace, his lips cool and burning at the same time on her eyelids and cheeks and, finally, her mouth.
“Oh, Jane, Jane. My dearest, lovely girl.” He spoke between kisses while she clung to him, dragging her fingers through his hair without concern if she mussed it. “Be mine forever.”
“I am. I will.” The sobs broke from her lips and her tears made his kisses too wet. He laughed softly and brushed at her cheek with a gentle finger.
“Damn Parliament, and damn the earldom! We will visit your sister and flee to the country. I will not lose you.”
She pressed her face against his waistcoat as her sniffles subsided. He held her so tightly he squeezed the breath out of her, but she didn�
�t mind. By some miracle, he’d decided to give up Susanna. It had taken being far away from his mistress to do it, but she didn’t care. Nothing else mattered anymore.
He flung open the curtain, and she blinked against the invading sunshine, not knowing which was more brilliant. His smile or their future.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Amelia and her family resided in a lovely part of the country, less than a half day’s journey from London. Jane had only visited twice before, and though Lyonsgate was as fine a home as Falconbury House, there was a comfortable air about it. No marble statues in the foyer for Francis and Amelia. Pleasant and inviting, it was already filled with children—twin girls, born the year before.
Normally, Jane would have been thrilled at the prospect of seeing her sister and nieces, but a sense of unease nagged at the back of her mind. Frederick would soon know of her deception, and she had no idea how she would explain her actions.
As the coach wound its way down the ash-lined road leading to Lyonsgate, Jane regretted her lie. Frederick would only be more pained by her actions should he discover it. Better to admit the truth. But how? To confess she had planned to leave him only to change her mind sounded ridiculous. She wrung her hands together.
His eyebrow quirked. “How are you?” he asked.
She gulped. “I am just anxious to reach Lyonsgate. I know the long ride has tired you.”
“On the contrary. It’s a pleasure to be away from the city.” He reached for her hand. “I will be true to my word, Jane. Once our visit with your sister is over, we’ll retire to the country.”
“You will be away from—from your friends when we leave. I’m afraid you’ll miss them.”
“Pshaw! Any one of my friends will always be welcome at Dornley Park, and they know it.”
“But Susanna…She will surely miss us.” She was about to say you but thought better of it.
“Susanna will be happy where she is.” He seemed to dwell on something, but shrugged. “Her happiness will come from elsewhere, not from us.”
She resisted the strong impulse to throw her arms around him. “I’m sure she will find it.”
Oblivious to her rocked emotions, he faced the window. “The house is impressive. I don’t know Copeland at all. We hardly spoke at our wedding, but he seems a good fellow.”
He made further observations about the grounds and charming fountains in the park and didn’t notice her silence. Never again would she fear losing him. He’d made his decision, which was the important thing.
The carriage rumbled up the driveway, and Jane’s fear of discovery returned. Her pulse quickened, but she reasoned with her fears. After all, Amelia might be too busy with her children to comment on their visit. Crossing her fingers for luck, she waited while the footman opened the door, and Frederick stepped out first. He helped her from the coach, inhaling deeply.
“What fine-smelling air! I should enjoy staying here a few days. Get the stench of London out of my lungs, hey?”
Amelia burst from the house, one of the twins cradled in her arms. She was accompanied by a nurse, who held the other baby.
“Jane! How wonderful to see you! And Colonel Blakeney! I mean to say, your lordship.” She laughed. “What a lovely surprise!” She kissed Jane’s cheek, and Frederick stooped to receive his own. “Just look at the pair of you! What a beautiful set of newlyweds you are! Francis will be so thrilled to see you. He’s been talking for ages about going into town, but I can’t at the moment.” She indicated her budding figure with another laugh. “Oh, but listen to me. Please, come inside! Are you on your way to see Mamma and Papa, or have you just been to Hartleigh? I can’t believe you’re here!”
Jane was unable to look at her husband, who had remained silent during Amelia’s exuberant speech. She followed Amelia in silence, while Frederick lingered a few steps behind. She was almost at the door when his soft voice reached her.
“We must talk, Jane,” he murmured.
She gave the barest nod, her gaze on her sister’s back while her pulse raced. Why had she lied about her sister’s condition? Amelia bustled through the door ahead of them, easily moving around despite her pregnancy. She gulped, but her throat remained dry. A fluttering in her middle added to her discomfort.
She was grateful their arrival brought a mild upset to the house, as Amelia set about planning an elaborate repast, but she would have to face him eventually. Her hand shook as she handed her bonnet to a servant. What could she possibly say to appease him? He would certainly notice her trunks and their contents: her old clothes and possessions she’d brought from Hartleigh. All the traces of her old life and nothing from the new.
Amelia showed them into the drawing room. Painfully aware of Frederick’s muted expression, Jane sat by her sister while he took a chair opposite. The twins were a blessed distraction, and Jane focused her attention on them to avoid looking at Frederick, whose stiff posture pierced her soul.
The babies, Helena and Sally, crawled around on the floor, amusing the adults with their babbling and antics. Jane slid from the sofa and sat on the floor with her nieces, her back to Frederick. It was a fortunate arrangement, as his taut expression was more than she could bear.
“Have you been to Dornley Park, Jane? Rosalind told me Mr. Shelbourne had been as a boy and said it is lovely,” Amelia said. She was fresh-faced and beautiful as ever. Motherhood and pregnancy had made her only more enchanting. Jane shrank a little. Frederick had probably made the comparison between them, as her mother had always done, and found her lacking.
“Not yet. We will be settling there once the session’s over.” She almost stumbled over her words.
“How wonderful.” Amelia gave a happy sigh. “I do enjoy town, but only in small doses. Still, the theatre and the balls and parties must be great fun. Have you been to the opera?”
Frederick’s cup rattled on the saucer. Without turning to look, Jane knew it was balanced on his knee. Normally, she would ask for a small table for him. But she was too afraid to look at him, not knowing what she’d see in his gaze.
“We went last night. I wasn’t aware of our traveling plans until late last evening,” Frederick said in a measured tone.
Jane couldn’t stand it anymore. She stared helplessly at Amelia. “Do not you recall writing and asking me to visit?”
Amelia’s look of puzzlement vanished quickly. “Oh, er, yes. Yes, of course.” She gave a wavering smile. “I have such a terrible memory these days. You are both so kind to put aside your busy lives to see us here.”
An awkward silence followed. Helena clambered onto Jane’s lap, and she picked up her niece and held her close, burying her face in the child’s warm, soggy collar that smelled faintly of milk. Behind her, Frederick moved, and the teacup and saucer clinked on the floor where he’d placed them.
“It’s lovely to be out of the city, if only for a few days.” He paused. “Please say if our visit has come at an inopportune time. We would not like to impose.”
Amelia reached down and took a button from Sally’s chubby little hand. “It’s perfectly fine you’re here. We’ve plenty of room, and I know the babies just love their Auntie Jane. And their Uncle Frederick,” she hastily added, casting Jane a quick look. The three were silent until Amelia rose from the sofa. “Dear me, I should show you both to your chamber. After a long drive, you must be exhausted. Jane, will you bring Helena with you?”
Frederick reached down and scooped the other baby in his arm. “I’ll bring this princess with me,” he said.
Still careful to avoid his gaze but knowing the inevitable was fast approaching, Jane lingered as much as possible on the way up the stairs. Amelia opened a door, revealing a tastefully decorated chamber in blue and white. A large, ornately carved bedstead occupied the middle of the room, facing a large fireplace.
“It’s my favorite guest chamber,” Amelia explained, dusting her hand over the impeccable mahogany writing desk by the window. “I’ll have your things brought up directly. Have
a rest, and I’ll come for you when Francis arrives.”
“Thank you,” Frederick responded.
A nurse appeared at the door and removed the babies from the room. Amelia’s brow furrowed, but she smiled at Jane and closed the door behind her.
Jane unbuttoned her pelisse, her face hot and damp despite the cool room. Her palms were moist, and she wondered how it was possible so much of her could be wet, when her mouth was dry as dust. Frederick struggled to remove his coat. He seldom wore this particular garment, since the tight buttonholes made it difficult to remove on his own. She raised her hands to help but he clamped down on her wrist.
“I’ll manage.” His voice was cold, filled with hurt and the intent to cause hurt. She blinked back tears.
“Does your injury bother you?”
“My injury is of no concern, madam.” He gave a harsh tug, and a button popped and flew across the room. His face darkened, and his black gaze pierced hers. “Clearly, you were planning to leave me. I now understand your reticence last night when I offered to escort you. When were you planning to tell me? Or were you not going to say goodbye, but simply flee, like you did at Everhill?”
“I don’t want to leave you, Frederick.” She spoke carefully, but her voice trembled just the same. “At first, I thought it was for the best, but then I came to see…”
He held up his hand. “I am nobody’s fool, Jane. If you wished to leave me, you should have said so, instead of dragging me here on false pretenses. Now, as I do not wish to cause a scene, I must endure a few days here, knowing that you—”
He bit off the rest of his words and turned his back, fighting with the rest of the immovable buttons. Tears blurred her vision as she stooped to pick up the button from the floor. She closed her hand around it. He heaved a shaking sigh.
“I won’t make a public spectacle out of this, Jane.” His voice was quieter, gentler. “You don’t deserve my anger. I…I rushed into asking you to marry me, because I was afraid you would choose another before I could make my suit. I should have given you more time, more…”
Tears streamed down her face. She tugged on his sleeve.