Immediately, Robert came upright, his eyes instantly searching her face for signs of the previous day’s indisposition and was relieved to see that the color had returned to her cheeks and there was no sign of the discomfort she had experienced. “Good morning,” he said, smiling. He quickly lifted the map from the table and rolling it, placed it into its leather case. Giving it to the steward, he ordered it to be taken to his cabin. Returning his attention to Jane, with a slight bow, he indicated that she should join him at the breakfast table.
“Again it would seem that I am in your debt,” she said, advancing into the salon and taking the proffered chair.
He paused briefly before seating himself at the opposite side of the table and somewhat baffled asked, “Whatever for now?”
“For your ministrations yesterday, sir,” she replied, smiling. “Many a man would have fled at the mere thought of a nauseous female. You were extremely heroic; even my own brother would have taken flight when faced with such a task.”
“Then he would not be worth his salt,” he replied catching some of her humor. “Although I must admit I am glad ’tis not an everyday occurrence. At least, I hope it’s not. How are you this morning? Restored I hope?”
Jane straightened in her chair and smiled to prove her words. “Fine as a trivet, I think that is the expression, and I do believe that I am in a fair way of being hungry, just as you predicted.”
The duke gave a bark of laughter and motioned to the waiting steward to serve their breakfast.
A short while later, after the dishes had been removed and they sat over their coffee, the duke asked with deceptive nonchalance, “Do you still find it so difficult to accept my assistance, Jane? I promise you my motives are genuine and assure you I have no hidden cause.”
Blushing slightly at thought of her previous response, Jane met his gaze openly. “I can only hope you will forgive my earlier reaction, sir. When our father was alive, I had need to be resourceful and I have become used to having the command of things. Harry has no mind to business matters either, so I have, by necessity, always had the arranging of affairs. I beg your pardon if I seemed ungrateful. In fact, should truth be told, to have undertaken the journey on my own would have proved a very daunting task. I am truly thankful for your help.” Then almost as an afterthought, with a mischievous smile, “But I must warn you I can be very independent, and I like it so.”
“Your independence is assured, my dear,” Robert replied, making an effort to keep the amusement from his voice. “I can see we will do famously for I have no wish to be accompanying a simpering female who is ever ready to succumb to a fit of the vapors.”
“Of that you may be quite sure, sir!”
“Of that I am quite grateful, my dear!”
Jane joined in his laughter and was taken by surprise at the transformation of his previously austere countenance. She would have been even more surprised had she known of its rarity, indeed, its total absence for some considerable time. She thought, this man should laugh more. It makes him almost human. She said ‘almost’ for there was still an unfathomable air about him, and at times a sadness that pervaded his whole being. Nonetheless, she felt that here was someone she could trust for all his overbearing ways and need for command. In truth, though she would not admit it, at times it would be a great relief to have someone to whom she could relinquish the burden of responsibility.
She mentally took herself to task, thinking, this would never do, she hardly knew him and to think of placing herself in his hands bordered on the ridiculous. However much she was tempted, she must be on her guard and not rely greatly on his protection.
***
Dawn of the fourth day found the two travelers settled in an equipage which, if not built for speed, afforded a certain degree of comfort. The duke, being mindful of his companion, had attempted to provide at least some basic comforts should the terrain prove inhospitable. Rugs, cushions, wine and a large hamper had been placed in the interior whilst the portmanteaux had been strapped to the roof. Seeing these arrangements, and aware that they had been ordered for her benefit, Jane warmed toward her companion, appreciating his consideration for her welfare.
Trying not to alarm her, Robert did not mention the brace of loaded firearms he thought it necessary to place in the pocket of the carriage door or the small pistol that he could now feel pressing against his thigh in the pocket of his greatcoat.
It would not do to admit that he thought their expedition could prove hazardous. Jane had enough to cope with by way of her concern for Harry without having to dwell on possible dangers. Indeed, he would spare her whatever anxiety he could during this very difficult time.
Not wishing to draw attention to their journey, he had dispensed with outriders. Instead, he ordered that Hills, a wiry, middle aged, individual who was first mate on The Mistral, should accompany them. He was to act as interpreter and guard, and now traveled alongside the hired coachman. He hoped that by presenting a less opulent appearance they would prove less attractive to those who would seek to waylay them.
Sitting in the forward facing corner, opposite the duke, Jane found it difficult to hide her impatience when the coach was forced to lumber through the narrow streets of Lisbon at a painfully slow pace. Now that they were once more on dry land, and within reach of Harry, her anxiety would not be suppressed and manifest itself in a scarcely concealed irritability.
“Can we not go any faster?” she asked, frowning as she looked out of the window. “How long will it take us to reach Elvas?”
Robert leaned forward from the opposite seat and took her hand, patting it reassuringly. “Be assured we will make what time we can,” he said, attempting to calm her unease.
“Do you think we will be in time?” she asked, turning her anxious gaze on him. “I cannot bear the thought that we may not. I dare not even think it!”
“The coachman says it should take no more than three days, possibly a little less. You must try to reconcile yourself to the journey; it will make it far less tiring and wearing on your nerves. See, we already leave the bustle of Lisbon behind, we will soon be out in open country and although the roads may prove a little rough, there is nothing to hamper us and we shall make good time.”
“There is no need to humor me, sir,” she said sharply, retrieving her hand from his clasp and leaning back against the squabs. “I am fully aware of the possibilities; I have known from the outset that the result of our journey is far less than certain. Indeed the odds are set against us. I should not have involved you in my schemes; you ought not to have been troubled on our account.”
He frowned heavily, becoming impatient with her repudiation of his support. “Whatever ails you now, Jane? If I am not mistaken, I involved myself. Can you not, even now, come to accept my aid? I had thought you to have become reconciled to it.”
Immediately contrite she held her hand out to him. “Indeed I have. Forgive me. I know not what I am at and I worry so. Will you not shake hands and make amends?”
“Humph,” he said, folding his arms across his chest and ignoring the outstretched hand. “If this is to be your way of thinking throughout the journey it will seem a very long one indeed. I am in no mind to try to fathom your moods. The workings of the female mind ever remain a mystery to me.”
They fell silent, each retreating into their corner deep in their own thoughts, Jane suppressing a desire to cry with frustration, and the duke suppressing a desire to box her ears. The remainder of the day passed with an awful civility between them, Elvas did indeed seem a great distance away!
So remained the state of affairs until early evening when as they approached the outskirts of Marateca darkened skies and a loud clap of thunder heralded the storm that was to come.
“I think it would be prudent to seek accommodation for the night,” Robert said, rapping his cane against the roof of the coach to attract Hills attention, and as his face appeared against the hatch, directed him to find a suitable hostelry.
�
�Could we not have traveled just a little further?” pleaded Jane. “The light is still good.”
“That may be so, but who knows what kind of accommodation we will find once we have cleared the confines of the town. We have to change horses, therefore we have need of a coaching inn, so we may as well take advantage of the halt to rest until morning. It would not be wise to travel further if there is to be a storm.”
“You are right of course,” she conceded with a rueful smile. “I confess my limbs are feeling cramped, and I would welcome a hot meal, would not you, sir?”
“I must admit that a hearty repast would not go amiss,” he agreed, obviously still not in the best of humor. “The thought of a comfortable bed certainly appeals. I can assure you, you will not be troubled with my company for much longer this night.”
“Come, sir, could we not cry truce,” she appealed, trying at a reconciliation. “It is entirely my fault; I am not at my best. You of all people should understand my feelings at this moment in time.”
He hesitated, and seemingly examined the gold signet ring on his little finger before replying in a subdued tone, “That I do, Jane. That I do!”
Suddenly, in large heavy drops, the rains came unbidden. They drove against the sides of the coach and it became necessary to pull up the windows, the coachman springing the tired horses in an attempt to reach the first coaching inn that would provide a comfortable resting-place for the night.
***
A bright flash of lightening illuminated the yard followed by a crash of rolling thunder when the travelers finally arrived at the inn. The coachman found it difficult to control the horses as they plunged about in the confines of the enclosure until an ostler emerged from the stables to come to his aid. Hills sprang immediately from the box and ran inside the inn reappearing just a few minutes later to inform his employer that suitable accommodation was available and would be placed immediately at his disposal.
Issuing orders that they should leave at first light, the duke assisted Jane to alight and with his arm about her shoulders, hurried her into the inn and to the private parlor that Hills had arranged.
The parlor was a low beamed room of average size with a welcoming blaze in the hearth and two settles drawn close enough for travelers to feel its benefit. A long table with several chairs ranged about it stood in the center, a branch of candles at each end providing the light within the room, its corners remaining in shadow.
The storm that raged outside made the air chill and casting aside their outer garments the two travelers went to stand before the fire, holding their hands to the blaze. Almost immediately, two maids entered the room to lay the covers and bring ale and wine for their refreshment, bobbing a brief curtsey before making their departure. The proprietor arrived in their wake, bowing low before such an eminent personage as an English duke. In broken English, of which he was very proud, he assured the visitors that they would receive the very best his establishment could offer and discussed with them what dishes they desired for their evening repast.
When, bowing profusely, he withdrew, the duke noticed that Jane was chuckling silently to herself as she sat on the settle.
“What has occurred to amuse you, my dear?” he asked, taking his ease on the opposite seat.
Eyes dancing, she asked, “Are you always accorded such reverence, sir?”
“But of course,” he replied soberly. “Should it be any other way?”
For a moment, she was taken aback by his self-assurance but upon scrutiny, she saw the teasing light in his eyes. “You are bamming me, sir,” she cried, continuing to smile.
He attempted hauteur, but she had seen the birth of the smile before he had been able to repress it. “Not at all. Am I not a personage of rank and fortune and thus entitled to such homage?”
Suppressing her own smile Jane folded her hands demurely in her lap. “Of a certainty, sir! Where are my wits? I forget myself. I should return to calling you your grace and my lord duke...”
He grinned openly. “You will do no such thing. Robert will suffice quite well, thank you.” He saw that she frowned slightly. “What now?”
“I was wondering what would have been my reception had I travelled alone as was my original intent. I doubt I would have been afforded such cordiality.”
He made a rueful grimace. “I doubt it too, my dear. Without as much as a maid to add to your consequence, you would unfortunately have been regarded as very low rank and been reduced to sharing accommodation with the common traveler.”
“Then I must thank you, sir, for lending me the consequence I so obviously lack,” she chuckled.
He laughed, bowing in his seat. “At last you find a use for me. My efforts therefore have not been in vain.”
***
When at last the meal was over, the duke sat at his ease by the table with his legs stretched before him, savoring his brandy, whilst Jane was cozily ensconced on the settle by the fire, its warmth pervading the room and casting out all thoughts of the storm. The tensions of the day had dissipated and an easy silence existed between them, both seemingly lost in their own reverie.
After a short while, the duke became aware that he was the object of his companion’s scrutiny and draining his glass raised an enquiring brow.
“Forgive me, Robert,” said Jane, averting her gaze to the fire. “It was not my intention to make you feel uncomfortable, I was just wondering…”
“Wondering what exactly?” he asked, his voice mellow from the effects of the brandy.
“Whether you would find it would give you any ease of mind to tell me about your brother. You have not mentioned him since we left England and I realize that the very nature of our journey must bring you thoughts of him?”
A dark frown immediately clouded his brow. “No, it would not give me ease of mind, young lady,” he replied sharply, snapping his glass back onto the table. “I can assure you I have no need to unburden my thoughts to anyone. There is no need for your pity.”
“I was not offering you pity, sir,” she said softly, in no way daunted by his change of mood. “I would just offer you understanding and try to afford you some comfort of spirit. Perhaps, as we are so closely linked by circumstances, we can offer each other some degree of solace?”
The duke came quickly to his feet, his agitation driving him to pace between hearth and table, an intense guilt overtaking him at the mention of his brother. Without realizing it, his thoughts of Stefan had not been as all-consuming over the past few days with his concerns for Jane and her predicament. He could scarce believe that he had allowed himself to be so easily diverted.
He dared not look at the earnest little face before him. Without knowing why, he realized that she awoke in him a response to her words and for the first time he experienced a desire to communicate his grief to one who, being in a like predicament, would understand.
“You at least have been afforded the opportunity to rectify your circumstance,” he said with a great passion. “I… What could I do when presented with Stefan’s death? Where was my chance of deliverance?” Of a sudden, it was as if the floodgates had been opened and all the thoughts that had been uppermost in his mind for so long tumbled out unbidden. He turned a ravaged countenance toward her, laying bare his soul.
“He was dead before even the news of his wounds had reached me; he had been dead a month before I even knew. A whole month… imagine! It was I who had signed his commission and sent him off to this terrible war.”
The intensity of his feelings affected Jane greatly, she had not been aware that he was capable of such a passion of grief.
He paused briefly to strike his fist against the mantle before continuing his restless movements. “If I had not listened to his pleadings, ignored his desire for glory, he would now be safe at Stovely or even on the town doing all the mindless things that other young bucks do. Not lying in a cold grave in Spain, slain by his own hand. How terrible were his wounds to have driven him to take such an action? What agonies must he hav
e endured that death was his only release? Whilst I… I was totally ignorant of his plight, knew nothing of his torments.”
She rose to stand before him, halting his pacing. Taking hold of his hand she led him to the settle to sit beside her. “There is no blame attached to you whatsoever, sir,” she said softly, attempting to alleviate his pain. “You could have done naught to alter the outcome…”
“But he was left in my care, Jane,” he interrupted passionately, turning his face away from her. “I was his guardian. When our father died he placed him in my care. A fine protector I proved to be. Stefan looked up to me, idolized me and where was I when he needed me most of all? Probably in some gaming hell or drinking club or involved in some other dissipation that has become my life style.”
He turned to face her, the tears standing in his eyes and for a moment, she knew the impulse to put her arms around him to comfort him, as she would have done Harry. However, she realized that it would be inappropriate. He was a very proud man and to her mind would not welcome such a demonstration on her part and she dare not risk his rejection of her actions.
Instead, she once more took hold of his hand in both of hers. “I am sure you took every care of Stefan,” she said to try to soothe him, “but you must remember he was old
enough to order his own destiny, you are in no way responsible for his death. He was of age and was his own man. When someone close to you dies, it is very difficult to accept their going, no matter their manner of death. Stefan died in such tragic circumstances. It is very difficult to come to terms with the horrors of war, I know, but if that is the path our loved ones have chosen to follow, what can we do but support them? We cannot live their lives for them. There is no need for self-reproach; you were a good and loving brother. No more could be asked of you.”
A silence fell between them, invaded only by the sound of the rain beating relentlessly against the darkened casement.
My Dearest Friend (Books We Love Regency Romance) Page 4