by Jane Lark
Was there something behind the change in Robert? Jane looked ahead and watched Violet walking beside Ellen and leaning to brush back the little girl’s curls. Jane glanced at Edward again. “Why did he go abroad?”
“I still have no idea. He dropped out of Oxford early and went carousing in town. I remember father in a rage, waving about the I-owe-yous Robert had sent home for payment.”
Jane had not known Robert had dropped out of university. An odd feeling of coincidence settled in her stomach.
“Ellen is closer to him than I am. If you are seeking someone to talk sense into him, then it’s her. The two of them have an understanding that escapes me. Fortunately, I know exactly how Ellen feels about me, otherwise, taking into account my brother’s reputation, I would have cause to be a very jealous man.”
“Ellen is wonderful. You’re lucky, Edward, and your family is lovely.”
He laughed and said, “I know.”
This was a man very confident of what he had, and very happy.
She wondered, then, if the problem between him and Robert could be envy. She envied Edward.
Their conversation shifted, turning to the past. Smiling, Edward reminded her of when her skirt had caught on his hook when she’d insisted on fishing with them. She had lost her balance, struggling to free it, and fallen in the lake. Robert had pulled her out. She’d been covered in weeds and crying.
“You were a cruel boy,” Ellen uttered.
Jane looked up, holding back her laughter as she realised Ellen, Violet and John had stopped to listen. “In fairness, I think I was a pain.”
“In fairness, you were a downright nuisance. Robert was always rescuing you from one thing or another, like when you climbed up that tree after us then were too afraid to climb down.”
Jane laughed again. Oh yes, she remembered. Robert had always come to her rescue. He’d rarely grumbled about it, but often chastised her for her stupidity.
“Papa!” Mary-Rose held her hands towards her father. “May I have my ice now? I’m hot.”
Edward smiled at Jane, as he accepted his daughter once more. “We shall reminisce some more tonight. But for now, if you will excuse us, ladies, I have a promise to keep. We shall see you this evening, Jane.”
“Yes, this evening at seven, if that is not too early,” Ellen completed.
“I will look forward to it. Till then,” Jane answered.
Edward and his family walked away.
“I’m sorry I did not believe just how thick you really were with Barrington when you said you’d been close,” Violet whispered when they’d gone.
Jane shot her friend a dismissive look. “What does it matter? He’s still angry with me.”
“But not disinterested if he must run.”
“You forget, Violet, I do not want him interested. It is better if he does run. Less complicated, certainly.”
~
Jenkins held the door as Robert entered his townhouse, listening out for voices. He’d returned after midnight, hoping Jane would be gone. There was no sound of conversation.
Robert stripped off his gloves and took off his hat, then passed both to Jenkins.
“Robert, I did not think you would be so late.”
Ellen.
Robert’s fingers rubbed the tense muscle at the back of his neck. “Sorry. Did I miss your guest?”
“I should think so. It is nearly one, Jane left hours ago.” Ellen arched an eyebrow.
It was the look she gave him when she knew he was fabricating. At times, it was intensely irritating how easily the woman could read him.
“I have asked Jane to come to our dinner party on Friday.”
“It was supposed to be a family meal … ”
“Well it seemed to me, from what Edward has said, that Jane is virtually that. But she said you may disapprove.”
Robert narrowed his gaze. If he argued, Ellen would know there was something more to it. If he let Jane come, he need not speak to her.
“She can come,” he answered, then changed the subject. “I am going to have a nightcap. Is Edward still up? ” He began crossing the hall to escape her.
“I’ll have hot chocolate, Jenkins, please,” she called back to the butler, following. “Edward’s retired. I waited up for you.”
The woman was too tenacious when she got hold of something. Ignoring her intense gaze on his back, Robert disappeared into the male sanctuary of his study, but Edward’s beautiful, determined wife invaded it.
Sighing, Robert turned about and folded his arms over his chest as he leaned his bottom against the desk. “Go on, then, Ellen. Pray, have out with it. Tell my why you stayed up. What are you stewing on?”
“I am not stewing,” she declared, crossing to the decanters and upturning a glass. “Which would you like?”
“Brandy,” he said with little patience. He was tired. He’d been tired for days. He’d hardly slept since he’d seen Jane with Sutton.
Ellen brought him the full glass, as if the liquid contained in it could fix all ills. “Edward told me Jane married the Duke of Sutton not long before you left for the continent.” Her voice was all social gossip, and yet her gaze swept his face for any sign of reaction.
Women. Who on earth would want one for a wife?
“Yes.” Was his only answer, in a so what, Ellen, voice, as he took the glass from her hand.
“I was merely wondering if there was any connection.”
“If there was, I would not wish to tell you about it,” he answered, sipping the fiery liquid and watching her calculate her next move.
“Why have you fallen out with her?” Again, she watched carefully, undoubtedly looking for some slip in his expression or demeanour.
“That, my dear, is for Jane to tell you, not I.”
“She said it was her fault, a misunderstanding.”
Robert’s eyebrows lifted. If you could call being caught indelicado with your stepson a misunderstanding. “Perhaps.”
“So, you agree it was a mistake? I’ll send her an invitation tomorrow.”
He grunted acceptance, but felt manipulated.
Ellen’s hot chocolate arrived.
“I’ll take it upstairs,” she advised the maid before looking back at him. “Goodnight, Robert. Jane is very beautiful, isn’t she?”
At that, he gave her a twisted, mocking smile, silently telling her to stop fishing, then bid her goodnight.
His sister-in-law had clearly taken three pieces of a puzzle and made a jigsaw. Well, she would find herself disappointed if she expected anything of it. Jane was not for him and never would be. He just wished his bloody heart would recognise it and stop hankering after what he could never have. Even now, the loss of her was like a lead weight in his chest. But he could not forget the sight of her in Sutton’s arms. It hurt, even more than it had hurt at nineteen to be told the woman you loved had chosen in your stead a man old enough to be her grandfather.
Chapter Eleven
Jane was incredibly nervous when she arrived at Robert’s townhouse nearly a week later. Fortunately, Geoff and Violet were with her as the family party had been extended to include friends, a fact which Jane could not help but think had changed due to her inclusion.
She hadn’t known what to say when Ellen had invited her. The idea of making Robert feel uncomfortable in his own home had appalled her, but Ellen had been persuasive, and Jane had accepted, providing Ellen confirmed Robert’s agreement.
Geoff and Violet were not the only friends Robert had asked either. There was quite a group of their acquaintances, enough for Robert to avoid any need for welcome as they entered. Ellen immediately filled the vacuum and introduced them to her distinguished relations, the Marquess of Wiltshire and his wife – Ellen’s eldest sister and her husband, the Earl of Preston and his Countess – Ellen’s middle sister and her husband, and the Duke and Duchess of Bradford – Ellen’s youngest sister and her husband. Heavens, for a small family affair, a quarter of the House of Lords were in a
ttendance, and the conversation buzzed vibrantly.
But later, when Jane sat silently on a sofa in the drawing room after dinner, watching the various activities and conversations, she was left with the familiar feeling of loneliness despite the crowd. She stole a look at Robert’s tall, immaculate figure. He was speaking with friends including Geoff, and, therefore, Violet, in the far corner, a move Jane would swear was deliberate. Over dinner, she’d been placed three seats from him, and yet, he’d successfully managed the conversation to ignore her.
He was hurt, and she had a feeling there would be no truce this time.
But even so, as she watched his back and noted the way his hair curled at his collar, the contour of his calves and thighs, his narrow hips and his broad shoulders, she knew she still loved him – longed for him.
The current pianoforte music ceased, and Jane was drawn back from her contemplation as a hand settled on her shoulder, a warm, male hand, Edward’s. “You’re quiet, Jane. Is everything well?”
“Yes,” she answered, forcing a smile. “I was just listening to Ellen. She has a wonderful voice and plays with such skill.”
A proud smile lodged on his face. “Quite. The first time I heard Ellen and John both sing, I admit, it took my breath away.”
Next, the four sisters sang together, a truly remarkable sound, as good as any professional performance. Once the song was over and the applause received, Ellen relinquished her seat at the pianoforte and came to stand beside her husband.
“Why don’t we play whist?” she said to Jane before calling across the room, “Robert, you will play?”
Jane blushed and longed for a hole to fall into.
“Sorry, I have just agreed to play billiards. Someone else will step up,” Robert answered bluntly, trouncing Ellen’s manoeuvre.
It was an obvious put-down, and Jane felt as though she would expire from humiliation as Ellen tried to persuade him. Jane rose, excusing herself and claiming she wished for some air. Then she slipped through an open French door, on to the balcony beyond. It was folly coming here. She should have known she was not welcome, and yet, some stupid, girlish hope had stirred in her chest when she’d received the invitation with a note confirming Robert’s agreement. It was obvious now, he had not agreed, merely complied.
The warm night air was barely any different to the close air indoors, thick with the scents of floral perfumes from the garden below, but the night was bright and starry. It reminded her of the night she’d lain in a punt with Robert, looking up at them.
She felt tears in her eyes.
Perhaps she ought to go back to Bath?
Perhaps she ought to just accept her fate and let Joshua have everything. She was still young, after all. She could become a governess or lady’s companion. Lord, how the ton would laugh at that, the Dowager Duchess destitute and forced into service. But what did she care? Nothing for such shallow people who knew her not at all.
“Jane.”
She jumped at the sudden intrusion into her solitude. Ellen stood behind her.
“I see how you look at him and how he looks at you,” Ellen said quietly. “When Edward and I met, Robert did his utmost to push us apart, not because he did not care for Edward, but because he does. He has a tendency, when he is afraid someone may forgive him for something for which he cannot forgive himself, to push that person away.”
Jane knew Ellen was speaking on Robert’s behalf, apologising for him, undoubtedly without his knowledge.
Jane looked at the garden and set her palms on the stone balustrade. “That is not the case with me. The fault really is mine.”
“But you have feelings for him? And he for you?” Ellen’s words were spoken as a question, but her voice said she already knew the answer. “Was there something between you before your marriage?”
“Yes.”
Ellen’s fingers touched Jane’s shoulder. “Then why not now?”
With a self-deprecating smile, Jane faced Ellen. “A better question would be, how? Who we were, then and now, are very different people. It was a long time ago, Ellen. The past is gone.” Jane felt a sudden affection for this woman. She’d become a friend.
“Need it be, if you both wish it to be different?” Ellen’s eyes were silver and jet in the darkness, her features white and black. It would be so easy if all things in life were black and white in clarity, but the truth was, things were many shades of grey. There were ifs and buts, not just yes and no.
“It’s too late,” was all Jane could answer.
“In my experience, it is never too late, Jane. I know my brother-in-law’s reputation, but I have seen his immeasurable ability to love the children. You have seen the way he is with them. I think you are alike; both longing for more than life has dealt you. Why not try to find it together?”
Jane sighed, her heart hammering at the thought, yet she shook her head. “You do not understand, Ellen. It is too complicated.”
Ellen squeezed Jane’s shoulder for a moment then let go. “Life is complicated, Jane, but we must live it. Surely, it is best to do so with the person you choose beside you.”
Tears filled Jane’s eyes as she shook her head again. That was what she wished for, but it could never be. Ellen passed Jane a small handkerchief, then, after embracing her briefly, disappeared.
~
From the billiard room, Robert watched Jane prepare to leave. She’d worn amber silk tonight, a colour which engaged with her green eyes. Having Jane here was like having a living, breathing work of the masters in his home. Despite himself, he’d found his gaze wandering in her direction all night, just as it had now. With his shoulder resting against the door frame, he watched her in the hall, his cue gripped in his hand.
“Robert! Your shot!” someone called behind him, and as they did so, Jane turned in time to catch him staring. He could see a question in her eyes. A question which welcomed his attention and offered more.
No, not any more. I have had my fill of being kicked in the gut by you. I’ll not let you knock me down again.
He narrowed his gaze in disgust and turned back to his game.
It was a good two hours later, after all their guests had left, that Ellen approached Robert to say goodnight, and when she leaned to bestow a sisterly kiss on his cheek, she whispered, “I knew the old Duke of Sutton. He was a manipulative man. If I were to make a guess, I would think Jane’s marriage was forced and certainly sour. I would feel sorry for her, if I were you.”
At her words, a cold shiver ran across Robert’s skin, and a sick feeling rose in his stomach.
Ellen did not stay to talk, instead she pulled away with a little smile that said quite bluntly, go to her, before turning to take Edward’s arm and retire.
It left Robert in a state of flux, all sorts of unwelcome thoughts racing through his head. Thoughts that told him perhaps he was the villain. Thoughts Robert did not want to face with a clear head.
“Forced?” It implied the day he’d ridden away, when she’d told him of her engagement to Sutton, he had deserted Jane. Had she needed him then? When he’d left her there. Had he left her to endure something that had not been her choice? Had she loved him then, truly, and been made to marry another man? A man old enough to be her grandfather.
To drown out the voice of conscience, he retired to the study and befriended a decanter of brandy.
His feet on his desk and his ankles crossed, Robert leaned back in his chair and put the doubts Ellen had generated to rights.
Jane had turned him down. She’d thrown his proposal back in his face. For God’s sake, he’d seen her in the arms of her stepson – that could not be explained away.
Bloody interfering woman.
Ellen had spoken to stir his guilt, he knew it. But if it was true, he had guilt to be stirred.
But he’d have seen it in Jane’s eyes that day, surely, or heard something since.
He kept drinking.
Wouldn’t he? Perhaps her affair with the son was a sign of her un
happiness and not her debauchery.
Hell!
He filled his glass again and remembered his seething anger that day. Anger that was enough to make him blind and deaf to details he did not seek to see.
Hell!
He took another swig of brandy and let it numb his mind, unwilling to look at the past with any logic, as he cursed Ellen. Ignorance was bliss. He did not want to know.
Did he?
Hell!
~
Come morning, Robert awoke where he’d sat the night before, the shattered decanter on the floor amidst the last of the brandy. His head thumped, but his thoughts were clear. He needed to know the truth. He had to understand what had happened, if only to silence his conscience. He needed to see Jane at least once more.
It was far too early for polite calls when he left, clean-shaven and clothed, to look at least half-decent in comparison to his previous half-dead appearance.
He walked to help clear his hangover, his mind continually racing.
Was Ellen right, had Jane been forced into marrying Sutton? Had he ridden away that day and left her to endure a life sentence?
By the time he approached Grosvenor Square, it was just after eleven.
As he walked along the street, his cane rapped on the pavement, matching his long, quick, restless strides.
A few yards from Lady Rimes’s property, a man yelled down from the driving seat of a dray.
Robert’s progress was suddenly arrested. He was stunned as his eyes took in the scene. Jane was on the far side of the street, and the driver of the dray shouted in her direction. She looked horrified. Robert followed her gaze and saw Sutton.
He’d jumped down from his curricle, abandoning it in the middle of the road. As his tiger, the groom, ran to grab the horses’ harnesses, Sutton approached Jane. His body taut with anger, he moved almost at a run, bearing down on her. When he reached her, he yelled something in her face.
She did not flinch. She seemed to stand more erect, and her chin tilted.
Sutton’s hand lifted in an instant, and in the next, he dealt her a sharp blow.