Lord Clayborne's Fancy

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by Laura Matthews


  “Well, my head hurts and my stomach feels funny, but I doubt there is anything to worry about.”

  “Shall I send for some food for you, or a drink?”

  “No, I could not face that just yet.”

  “Rebecca, do you feel well enough for me to talk to you a bit? I know this is not the time but I have been waiting for the right time and it never comes. I cannot bear to wait any longer.”

  “Of course, Jason. But you must not speak out of pity for me, you know, for I shall be all right. I’m sorry to give you such a scare.”

  “Pity? It is an emotion I cannot even conceive of in connection with you. Perhaps I should have told you,” Clayborne said slowly, “that I was in love with you when I married you.”

  Rebecca’s startled eyes searched his face and knew that he spoke the truth.

  “I did not wish to tell you because I knew you didn’t love me and I was afraid of frightening you away. I was so used to thinking myself possessed of an endless passion for Lady Hillston that I didn’t recognize it myself for some time.” He paused and sighed, rubbing his forehead as if to clear his thoughts.

  “When I thought, on our wedding night, that you had deceived me, I was truly shattered. I thought that I had again chosen to love someone who was not what I had believed her to be. No, perhaps chosen is not the right word. Never mind. You know that I went back to Lady Hillston in my hurt and rage. I did not do it to cause you pain. I did it as some sort of punishment to myself, I suppose. By then I was well aware of Lady Hillston’s real worth.”

  He stopped talking for a while, trying to best phrase his next words. Rebecca did not speak, but she kept her eyes on his, her countenance unreadable.

  “I tried to tell myself a hundred times, a thousand times, that you were just such another. At first your attitude enraged me, and I was sure I could hate you as easily as I had loved you. But it was not so. I could not bear to be near you then; but when Meg came and I was home again, I knew that I would always love you. You must not think I let you go so easily to the Cotswolds because I wanted to rid myself of you. I let you go because I loved you and could not bear to see what I was doing to you.”

  “Yes. It was then I knew that you loved me. I had not known before,” Rebecca said quietly.

  “You knew then? But why did you go if you knew?” he asked in anguish.

  “Because you believed that I had deceived you. There will never be any way I can prove that I did not,” she said sadly.

  “I am a proud, stubborn man, Rebecca. As long as I thought there was no other possible explanation I refused to believe you. I have learned that there are other explanations, and I do believe you now. No, don’t say anything. I realize my lack of faith in you has destroyed our chance for happiness together. You have trusted me through all of my rages and slights, and I am ashamed of myself. If you will accept it, I shall deed Gray Oaks to you; it is not entailed. You may live here always as your own home. I shall live elsewhere and be content that you are happy. Oh, and the setter is old enough to leave his mother now.”

  “The setter?” Rebecca asked, confused.

  “Your anniversary present. He was too young then, but you can have him tomorrow. I thought of him because, well, because of the dog you gave to Thomas Burns.”

  “Now how could you possibly know that I gave Rags to Thomas?”

  “I know you. It was the only explanation. I have felt terribly jealous of Thomas,” he admitted wretchedly.

  “Well, you need not have. I was infatuated with Thomas, even though I knew he was to marry. It was silly of me and it did not last long, but there was a singular lack of men around Farthington Hall,” she said, “and I was flattered by his admiration of me. Giving him the dog was a sort of farewell gesture. I shall be pleased to have a setter of my own. But you know, Jason, I shall not want to live here at Gray Oaks alone.”

  “Perhaps Mary could live with you. Or another of your friends,” he suggested helpfully.

  “No, I don’t think that would be satisfactory. I am a married woman. I did tell you once what I expected out of marriage, did I not?”

  “I remember the occasion well,” he admitted with a lopsided grin.

  “And you still do not think you could accommodate me?” she asked wistfully.

  “I am certain I could, wretch.”

  “It is the strangest thing, you know, for I feel sure you could, too. And should you still expect me to observe the proprieties and offer you obedience?” she taunted.

  “No more than would put a strain on you, I feel sure.”

  “Then the matter is settled?” Rebecca asked.

  “Not quite. I think you still have something to tell me, little one.”

  “You must ever have your way,” she sighed.

  “But I need something to ease the pain of being called an insufferable toad,” he retorted.

  “I love you, Jason. I seem to have loved you for a long time,” she admitted shyly.

  “Do you suppose it would hurt your head if I...”

  When Mary peeped in at the door and saw her sister passionately kissing his lordship, she withdrew, giggling, but they were oblivious to the interruption. Mary was delighted that her sister was recovered and that the young people would be able to stage their jousting exhibition very soon after all.

  Copyright © 1980 by Elizabeth Rotter

  Originally published by Warner

  Electronically published in 2005 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228

  www.RegencyReads.com

  Electronic sales: [email protected]

  This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.

 

 

 


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