‘Yes.’
‘I am Matthew Jackson, the Duke of Westmore’s secretary. I am to accompany you today.’
She nodded. Mrs Bates had tears in her eyes when she said goodbye and a lump rose in Belle’s throat as she impulsively squeezed her housekeeper’s hand.
She followed Mr Jackson outside to the street where her trunk and valise had already been strapped on to the chaise. Lady Georgina followed her. She looked at Belle for a moment and then stepped into her waiting carriage.
‘Lady Milborne.’
Mr Jackson waited for her. She turned and slowly climbed into Justin’s chaise and Mr Jackson joined her. The door was shut and the horses set into motion. A wave of loneliness washed over her and she fought it down. She could not allow herself to give into such feelings or she would be truly lost.
Chapter Eight
They reached the inn before nightfall. Belle had fallen into a fitful sleep and she awoke when the motion of the carriage stopped. She opened her eyes, disorientated for a moment, and then realised they had halted.
‘We have reached the White Dove. We will stop here for the night,’ Jackson said from the other corner.
She nodded. Her travelling companion had proved to be a remarkably efficient young man who had the amazing ability to read in a moving chaise. He had spent most of the journey with a stack of papers on his lap. He was polite but no more and she had no doubt he disapproved of her. Undoubtedly, he wondered why his employer wished to involve himself with a woman of her reputation. Or perhaps he merely disapproved of such relationships on principle. At any rate, his disinclination towards conversation suited her as she was still not feeling particularly well. She peered out and saw they were in the yard of an inn. Another coach was there and a cat sat on a bench outside the door.
Her stomach was starting to hurt again. The coachman opened the door, and Jackson stepped down first and then assisted her down. The cool afternoon air was welcome on her overheated cheeks. She blinked, not certain what to do next.
‘Belle.’
She turned and saw Justin approaching them. He looked completely familiar and until she saw him she did not realise how much she needed to see him. He nodded to Jackson. ‘I’ve bespoken two rooms and a private parlour. I would like a word with Lady Milborne and then I will escort her to the parlour.’
‘Very well,’ Jackson said.
Justin waited for a moment and then took her elbow. ‘Was your journey comfortable?’ he asked politely.
‘Yes, although I will own I slept most of the way.’
‘Wise of you. I’ve requested an early dinner. I will see you to the inn and then I must look after the colt.’ He was guiding her towards the building, his touch impersonal.
She suddenly did not want to be left with only the taciturn, disapproving Jackson. For a moment longer, she wanted to be with someone who would at least talk to her. ‘May I see your horse?’
He glanced down at her, slight surprise in his eyes. ‘If you wish.’
‘I would like to.’
‘He is in the stable.’ With his hand still on her elbow he guided her towards the stables at the back of the inn. He released her arm and she followed him inside, lifting up her skirt a little as she walked. The colt was in the very last stall. Justin spoke softly to the horse. In the dim light of the stable, she could see the animal was in the far corner but at the sound of Justin’s voice the horse moved forward.
‘He is beautiful,’ she said softly. He was a bay with a dish-shaped face and dark, intelligent eyes. He tossed his head but calmed under Justin’s hand. ‘Have you named him?’
‘Not yet.’ He stroked the animal’s neck. ‘You could probably pet him if you wanted to.’
‘If he will let me.’ The colt stayed still while she touched his soft, sleek neck and then he snorted and moved away. She smiled. ‘I think that is as much as he wishes to know me.’
‘At least for now.’ His thoughts seemed to be elsewhere, but he brought his attention back to Belle. ‘I had best escort you to the inn.’
The parlour was small and dark but clean. Jackson was not yet there. She removed her cloak and bonnet and shivered a little. Justin saw her. ‘I will have them build a fire for you. Is there anything else you require?’
‘Not now.’ He was so politely formal. She would prefer his anger over this but the façade around him was impenetrable.
He moved away then. ‘I will see to the colt and then join you for dinner.’
‘Yes.’
He left the room and she sat down on one of the benches. Her back was beginning to ache a little and she was glad to sit. The proprietor’s wife bustled in and built a fire.
Jackson came in a quarter of an hour later and a few minutes after that Justin joined them.
But by the time the pink-cheeked maid brought in the dinner, Belle’s appetite had fled. Her head was truly starting to ache and she felt rather ill. She forced a few bites down her throat and listened quietly to the conversation between Jackson and Justin. When the last of the meal had been taken away, she rose. ‘I would like to retire. If you will excuse me.’
Justin and Jackson stood as well. ‘Will you be able to manage without a maid? Or should I send Mrs Hubbard to help you?’ Justin asked.
‘I can manage.’ She had deliberately worn a gown with a minimum of fastenings.
‘I will be up shortly,’ he said curtly.
Embarrassed, she nodded to Jackson and then fled. Of course Jackson knew why she was with Justin but nonetheless she could not rid herself of her innate modesty.
Her room was small and clean with a low-beamed ceiling. She washed her hands and face as best as she could with the jug of water. After that she pulled the pins from her hair and took out a clean nightshift. But it was when she was finishing the rest of her ablutions that she realised why she had felt slightly unwell much of the day. She sank down on the bed and wondered what she should do next. But there was really no choice; she would have to tell him.
When his knock came, she jumped, and then rose and opened the door. With more than a little trepidation, she saw he wore a dressing gown over his breeches. He stood there, dark and forbidding. ‘Come in,’ she said. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He turned the key with a deliberate motion then turned and his eyes locked on her.
‘Come here, Belle,’ he said softly. He took a step in her direction. His eyes had a determined glitter.
Her face must be turning a thousand shades of red. ‘There is something you should know first,’ she began.
He stopped. ‘What?’
She prayed she would not die of embarrassment. ‘I…I have begun my courses.’ She closed her eyes briefly and then opened them. ‘I am sorry.’ She had never had to tell Lucien such a personal thing. Her abigail had always informed him when she was indisposed.
He looked taken aback. ‘I do not suppose it is something you can help.’
‘I suppose it might be possible to…to…that is it is not so bad at the beginning.’ What was she saying? Perhaps it would be better if she did die.
‘No, I am not that…’ he stopped and she sensed he was as embarrassed as she was. He ran his hand through his hair and frowned. ‘Do you need anything? Should I send for Mrs Hubbard?’
‘No. I should be fine.’
He was still frowning. ‘Are you certain?’
‘It is not the first time, you know. Women do manage.’
‘But you do not have a maid with you.’ His face was a study in masculine bewilderment, as if such female mysteries were completely out of his realm. Perhaps they were. She had no idea how his mistresses had dealt with such matters.
‘I will be perfectly fine. It is not an illness.’ Despite her mortification at even having to discuss this, she felt an almost hysterical urge to giggle.
‘If you are certain.’ He frowned a little. ‘You did not look very well at dinner. Nor did you eat much.’
‘Sometimes I do not feel very well at this time.�
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‘I see. Should I leave you? Or do you need some sort of assistance?’
She had no idea what that would be. ‘I really will be fine on my own,’ she said firmly. ‘I most likely will go straight to bed.’
‘I will bid you goodnight, then. If there is anything you need you have only to summon me.’
‘Thank you.’
He walked to the door and unlocked it then glanced back at her one more time. ‘Lock your door.’ He hesitated. ‘Goodnight, Belle.’
‘Goodnight.’
The door closed softly behind him and then she felt the tears prick her eyelids. She dashed the back of her hand across her eyes. She could not cry—she would not give into such missish behaviour. But it did not help the sudden surge of loneliness that overwhelmed her.
Oh, why must this occur now? She had thought that it would not happen for several more days if at all, for her monthly courses were irregular. She could view it as a reprieve but it did not feel like one. It felt almost as if fate had decreed she was to remain in a sort of purgatory. She would never pay her debt and thus be in his power for all of eternity.
Worse, he had been amazingly kind about the entire business. Unlike Lucien who had, at first, considered her courses an inconvenience to him, and later a sign of her infertility. He had sworn at her and she had come to dread this proof of her inadequacy as a wife. Nor had he anything but disdain for the headache and cramps that had plagued her as well.
She did not want Justin to be so solicitous. For she feared it would make keeping her heart unscathed by this affair impossible.
The painful cramping in her stomach the next morning was not promising. When she sat up, her head spun and she knew the fates were determined to punish her. If only she could crawl back in bed and stay there.
The knock on the door to the hallway caused her to jump. She found a shawl which she draped over her shoulders and padded to the door. She unlocked it and found the proprietor’s daughter standing on the other side with a fresh pitcher of water. ‘My Mama says I am to help you dress, my lady.’
‘Thank you.’ She suspected Justin had sent the girl to her. Another kindness which would only add to her debt. She was grateful for Betty’s help, nonetheless and after she dressed went downstairs to the parlour.
Jackson was already there. He rose and waited until she had taken the chair across from him, before sitting back down. ‘What do you wish to eat? The ham is quite good and there are eggs and toast.’
‘Only toast and perhaps tea.’ She asked as indifferently as possible, ‘Will the Duke join us?’
‘He departed a short while ago. But you are to finish your breakfast at your leisure and then we will leave.’
‘I see.’ She felt oddly disappointed and then told herself it was best if she did not see him. She must not grow to depend on his company.
After a piece of toast and a cup of tea, she felt a little better. By the time Jackson had helped her into the carriage, she had convinced herself she would be fine.
The jolting of the carriage did nothing for her. The familiar cramps had returned and she was beginning to feel slightly nauseous. She sat stiffly upright on the cushions and debated whether she would be better off if she closed her eyes or kept them open.
Perhaps if she concentrated on something else. ‘Have you been with the Duke many years?’ she asked Jackson.
‘Two years,’ Jackson said stiffly.
‘And where are you from?’
‘Manchester, my lady.’
His polite, formal replies did not encourage further comments. She did not want to force conversation on someone so obviously unwilling, so she turned to look out of the window. The scenery passing by only made her feel more ill. She looked quickly down at her lap and closed her eyes.
‘Are you ill, my lady?’
She opened her eyes. ‘No. Sometimes the motion of a coach can make me feel a little unwell, but it is certain to pass.’ At least she hoped so. But the dull cramp in her abdomen reminded her that she was not over the worst of it.
‘We can stop if you wish. There is an inn in another five miles.’
‘That will not be necessary.’ She did not want to hold Justin up. He would regret bringing her more than he undoubtedly already did. But the swaying of the carriage combined with her nearly empty stomach and the pain contrived to work against her. She held on as long as she possibly could, but a mere two hours into the journey she was finally forced to open her eyes. ‘I am sorry, but I must ask you to stop the carriage now.’ She swallowed. ‘I fear I am about to be quite ill.’
Surprise replaced Jackson’s stolid expression. ‘Er, of course.’ He leaned out and rapped sharply on the roof of the carriage. By the time the carriage rattled to a halt, she was starting to retch. Then the door was flung open and she stumbled outside.
Kneeling in the muddy road and losing the contents of her stomach was one of the most humiliating experiences of her life. But suddenly Jackson was beside her and a handkerchief was thrust into her hand. She took it. ‘Thank you. I am very sorry.’
‘There is no need, my lady. I have assisted on such occasions several times in my life.’
‘Have you? Surely not by a roadside?’ She sat back.
‘Even by a roadside.’ He peered into her face. ‘Can you stand? I will help you back into the carriage and then we will head for the inn. You may have me stop the carriage again if needed.’
She allowed him to help her to her feet. ‘You are kind, but I do not wish to hold the Duke up. I know he wants to get his horse to Devon as quickly as possible. I am certain to feel much better now.’
He appeared unconvinced. ‘We will stop nonetheless. The Duke wished me to watch over you.’
‘I pray you will say nothing to him about this.’ She resolved she would do anything in her will-power to not be sick again. She was almost convinced that things would be quite fine now that she had lost everything but a mere half-hour later she knew it was not. She closed her eyes and prayed she would not humiliate herself again.
She nearly died of gratefulness when the coach halted and she saw they were at another inn. The fresh air made her feel better and as she followed Jackson to the building she was certain she would be perfectly fine. The innkeeper came to meet them and to her surprise, greeted Jackson as if they were old friends. He showed them to a private parlour and promised to procure refreshments.
Belle sank into a chair, the thought of eating making her feel unwell. She forced herself to speak. ‘I will be fine after I rest for a few moments. Please promise me you will not tell the Duke.’
She thought he nodded before he left the room. She closed her eyes, resisting the urge to curl up on the sofa. Her head was now hurting as well and the thought of slipping away into oblivion was becoming more appealing by the moment.
She must have dozed off for the next thing she knew someone was saying her name. Dazed, she opened her eyes and then was completely confused when she saw Justin bending over her. She sat upright. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Jackson sent the groom for me. We were not far in front of you. He said you are ill. Why did you not send word earlier?’
She must still be dreaming. He actually appeared worried. ‘I did not want him to send word to you at all. It is nothing really. I will be quite fine after I rest.’
‘You don’t look well. I will procure a room for you and then send for a physician.’
‘No! Please do not. I am not ill.’
‘Then what is it?’ He frowned down at her. ‘Is it because of your courses?’
‘Yes.’ She had no reason to deny it. ‘Sometimes on the first day or two I feel out of sorts. Then it passes.’
She waited for his disgust or impatience. ‘You should have told me last night,’ he said abruptly.
Her cheeks heated. ‘It was humiliating enough that I had to tell you such a thing. I had hoped that perhaps I would be fine.’
‘You do not need to feel humiliated by telling
me.’ He still frowned. ‘After you are settled in a room I will send Mrs Clarke to assist you. We will halt here.’
‘Surely not you as well. You must continue with your colt.’
‘I am hardly about to leave you here by yourself.’
‘I am quite used to travelling by myself when necessary. I am, after all, five and twenty.’
‘A great age,’ he said drily. ‘You are, however, my responsibility and under my protection. I’ve no intention of leaving you here while you are ill and without so much as a maid.’
She stared at him. ‘I am not your responsibility.’
‘You most certainly are.’ He straightened. ‘One I have no intention of delegating.’ He strode to the door. ‘Mrs Clarke will be in shortly. By the way, she is a distant cousin of Jackson so I’ve no doubt she will take good care of you.’ He left before she could say a word.
He considered her his responsibility? Certainly not one he wanted if his curt manner and grim expression was any indication. Why had he even brought her with him? She had thought it was only for revenge but then she recalled his offer of marriage. Despite everything between them, he still felt responsible for her. There was no pleasure in the thought.
Justin ran his hand down the colt’s sleek neck. Instead of trembling, he now stood still. The animal was doing much better than he had anticipated as if he now did not mind the travel and unfamiliar accommodations quite so much. The Hare and Hart’s were certainly luxurious compared to most inns and undoubtedly due more to Jackson’s connections rather than to his ducal title, his colt had been given the best stall. He gave the horse a final pat and left him to his hay. He had best return to the inn. And Belle.
He had no idea what he was going to do with her. His anger and bitterness towards her had died the moment she had told him, her face flushed and vulnerable, that she had her courses. Her cool reserve was gone, instead she had looked like a mere girl, her mortification over confessing such a feminine and personal thing apparent. She had looked so fragile in her nightrail with her hair down her back that it had taken all his will power not to pull her into his arms and comfort her.
Nicola Cornick Page 11