by Pamela Lynne
Wesley threw his hands in the air and shouted. “Because I failed to protect you then!” He took a deep breath and calmed before speaking again. “I failed to protect both of you, and I cannot have the blood of two people on my hands.” Wesley turned and walked to a table in the corner. He filled a glass nearly full and then walked back to Richard. He held out his arm to help Richard up, handed him the glass, and then returned to the table to fill another. He sat in a nearby chair and gently held the brandy in his hands as his arms rested on his knees. “I should have removed her from that house as soon as I reached majority. I had no money of my own, only what he allowed me, and I used that as my excuse for inaction. But it was Litchfield, his words and his manipulations, that kept me by his side instead of helping her.”
His demeanor softened for a moment, but a lifetime of resentment could not be diminished with a few sentences, so Richard once again lashed out. “May I ask what caused this surge of guilt?”
Wesley looked at him disbelievingly, hurt clearly showing in his eyes. “Do you forget that I was the one who found her? I carried her frozen, lifeless body from the pond to the manor, all the while begging her to wake up. Begging her with the same desperation she used to beg him. But it was too late. I failed her.”
Richard stood unspeaking for several minutes, trying to adjust to the new information. He eventually moved to sit in the chair beside his brother. “I did not know you were aware of what was going on. I assumed that, because you were always with him, you did not see what he truly was.”
“I had no choice but to stay at his side. Any time I showed any sort of weakness, the two of you were punished. If I spoke to Mother at dinner or accompanied her on her walks, she would be banished to her rooms for a month, or at least as long as it took the bruises to heal. And then, the one time I defended you…do you remember? We had been playing in the house, and I broke a vase in the gallery. I told him over and over that I had been the one who broke it, but he beat you instead.”
Richard knew his father was a manipulative bastard, but realizing how well they had all been controlled still overwhelmed him. “He wanted me to hate you.”
Wesley nodded. “You cannot control a rational person. Their mind would not allow the manipulations. Great emotion, however, is more easily worked on. He used everything we felt against us for no other purpose than to feel the power of having control over the weak.”
A silence stretched on as Richard attempted to calm before speaking again. He could now add the long years of estrangement from his brother to his list of regrets.
“You are not the only one with guilt. I should not have joined the army. I should have stayed and protected her, removed her somehow. We would have been paupers, but she would have been alive.”
“No, Litchfield never would have let you live. He would have found you no matter where you were. In spite of my regrets, I know that her only way out was the one she took. He took away all of her choices, all of her spirit. She was only a shell, waiting for the next time he would unleash his anger on her. His power was absolute. He proved that in the way he manipulated us all our lives. But we do have a chance to stop him now.”
“Jane?”
Wesley nodded and walked to his desk. He unlocked a drawer and fiddled a bit as he loosened what appeared to be a hiding place. He returned to Richard carrying a wooden box. “If you had stayed the day of the funeral, I would have shown you this. I found it in my room after I had found her. She left it there for us.”
He opened the box, and inside, Richard saw a good many different pieces of jewelry, many of them quite stunning and no doubt expensive.
“These were the jewels of her family. I imagine Litchfield did not approve of them, much like he did not approve of Jane’s gown. They had not been of his choosing. I sold several pieces in order to purchase McAlister’s debts and the loyalty of some of Litchfield’s men. The one he has following me only tells Litchfield what I want him to. I am sorry, but the ones he has watching you and Jane have been in his employ too long. I feared their loyalty might be binding, so I did not approach them.”
“He is watching Jane as well?” Richard sighed and rubbed his face. A thought suddenly occurred to him. “What else have you bought? Did you hire someone to cause the disturbances in Kent?”
Wesley nodded. “McAlister took care of that for me. He knows many men who have left the army and are now in need of money. After you threatened to kill Litchfield again, I knew I had to distract him and get him out of town.”
“And Blanchard’s land as well?”
“Yes, if he had remained here, he would have been doing our father’s bidding.”
“And perhaps taking his frustrations out on his eldest daughter?”
Wesley sighed. “I do not know why he has allowed her to remain unmarried and defy him as much as she does. It certainly is not because he is a doting father. I fear he is using her somehow, and if I can put some distance between them, I will.”
Richard nodded and leaned his head against the back of the chair. “I am tired, Wesley. I learned when I was very young that I could not beat Litchfield, but I could out run him. I have never stopped. We cannot fight the past. We must surrender it, all of it, if we are to continue on. I am tired of the anger, of the suspicion.” He paused and breathed in deep. “Of the regret. I want peace between us, Brother.”
“Shall we work together now?”
Richard smiled slightly. “I assume you already have a plan?”
Wesley nodded. “The beginnings of one. McAlister was not the only one with me in the carriage tonight. But let us retire to Julian’s. I have taken pains to secure my private rooms against Litchfield’s eyes, but I would still feel more comfortable discussing things there.”
Richard agreed. “Not only is it more private, but unlike here, there is always food left in the lauder and water for tea should anyone desire it in the night.”
“And who will make the tea? I have never known any cook agreeable enough to make tea after midnight.”
“I shall make it. It is simple enough to do.”
“Is this one of the skills you have acquired in the army?”
“It is. You would be surprised what a gentleman can learn to do when not surrounded by eager servants.”
“That is good to know. You will likely need those skills sooner rather than later.”
Richard looked at him questioningly, but Wesley said no more as they passed through the door and into the blackened city streets.
Chapter 13
Jane sat in her bed with her arms wrapped around her knees, staring at the faint light beginning to show through the window. It was Monday, and the banns had been read again the day before. She was now in the middle of her betrothal, and the conflicting thoughts that continually swirled within her made her anything but a blushing bride.
She had not been able to hold her composure the other night and, in her momentary weakness, had allowed truth to creep in when she needed so desperately to maintain denial. Her father had been right. There were too many people around her who were at odds with her goal, though she did not believe all of them were intentionally trying to tear her apart.
Wesley’s and Rachel’s words to her over the last few days rang in her head. The viscount’s subtle question about obligation, coupled with Rachel’s story of enduring love, made her feel like a snake for pursuing something so meaningless. More than that, however, was the earl’s own behavior that troubled her.
Outwardly, he was everything that was proper and polite. He was no swooning lover, but that was not to be expected from someone of his age and stature. She was bothered by his reaction to her blue gown, but she had been able to explain that away easy enough. When she told him that she did not accept the invitation from Lady Blanchard and then continued to refuse as he insisted that she accept, Jane saw something in his eyes that chilled her. She had seen the look before, but only fleetingly. He was obviously a man who liked having his way, and Jane was beginning to
fear what would happen if he did not.
Rising from the bed, Jane contemplated what plagued her most. Not what, actually, but who. His voice echoed through the hollowness that was growing within her, and every touch and look he gave her was both sweet and torturous. Deception had become such a part of her existence, but something in him demanded the absolute truth, and something in her responded willingly. She never spoke about David, yet she allowed Richard to know her deepest feelings about her brother’s death. And when he looked at her the previous night, when she was full of longing for what her aunt and uncle shared, she knew that he once again saw right through her and accepted everything that was there.
Not wanting the company of their maid, Jane opened her closet to begin dressing herself. She pulled on the ties of her nightgown and slipped it off her shoulders, allowing it to pool on the floor. She kicked it away and pulled on a long chemise before perusing the selections before her. With her mouth in a straight line, she fingered through the stacks of muslin and silk. Since the earl had been gone, Jane had chosen to wear her old gowns rather than the ones he had purchased. Determined to conquer her doubts, she laced her corset as tight as she could on her own and slipped on the ivory silk of the earl’s choosing.
“I must remember to whom my loyalties are owed,” she whispered as she sat down at her vanity. She made promises to the earl and to her family. Silly romantic notions and the opinions of people she had only known a short while could not outweigh that. She could not allow it. After pinning her hair, she rose and walked toward the door. The closer she came, the more constricting her clothes felt, and by the time she reached for the latch, she could hardly breathe. She reached behind her and frantically began undoing the buttons on her gown and then tore at the ribbons of her corset until it finally loosened.
A sob escaped her as she leaned her head against the door. It was all supposed to be so simple. The earl’s proposal seemed too good to be true, but it was a blessing for her family after so many years of unhappiness. How could she risk that now? She needed a respite from both her company and her doubts. Allowing her gown and corset to fall to the floor as she walked, Jane returned to the bed. She would receive no callers today, and by tomorrow, all would be well.
* * *
“Are you sure about doing this, Richard? Would it not be better to speak to her father? If he broke the engagement, it would not be so scandalous.”
“You met the man, Julian. Does he seem the type to be bothered by such a trivial thing as his daughter’s safety? I doubt he would believe her to be in any real danger. But she has had glimpses of Litchfield’s true character. I hope it will be enough to convince her to run far away from him before it is too late.”
“It will not be easy.”
“No. Will you speak to Miss Amy?”
“I suppose I must. She is so innocent and trusting. I hate to be the one to tell her there is great evil in the world and it is stalking her sister.”
“The best way to protect her is to arm her with knowledge, Julian.”
He nodded and then looked back at his cousin. “Will Wesley’s plan work, do you think?”
“It is a good plan, but too much could go wrong. Litchfield is a dangerous man when he is in control. We will be pushing him far beyond his limits, I fear.”
“Even if all goes according to plan, the ensuing scandal will ruin every one of us.”
“Yes, that is the hope.”
Richard watched as Julian’s concerned frown turned into one of determination. He was pleased to see it. The fact that Julian was willing to put his own reputation at risk to help a family he had known for only a short time spoke far louder than any mistake he had made in the past.
“Shall we go in, then?”
Richard nodded and opened the carriage door. As his feet hit the ground, he looked around for Litchfield’s men. They were easily spotted, as they were making no attempt to disguise their presence. Their arrogance annoyed Richard, but he quickly put it out of his mind as they ascended the steps of the Carrington home. They were shown into the parlor, where Amy was sitting alone.
“I am afraid you find me by myself this morning, gentlemen. My aunt has gone out, and Jane is indisposed.”
“Is she well?”
“I believe so, Captain Granville, just slightly tired. She sent word earlier that she would keep to her room today.”
“Which room is hers?”
Amy stood in place, wearing a shocked expression, and did not answer.
“Never mind. I will find it.”
He quickly left the room, and Amy began to sputter. “What…what is he doing? He cannot go into her room!”
“Sit down, Miss Amy. There are some things we need to discuss.”
Amy ignored him and walked toward the door. Julian came up behind her and closed the door before she could leave.
“Sit down, Amy.”
She returned his stern look with one of absolute indignation but did as she was told. Julian sat beside her and took her hand.
“Now, we must speak about all the reasons why your sister cannot marry Litchfield.”
* * *
Richard kneeled beside the bed and took in the vision that rested there. Jane was in repose, free from every burden that plagued her as her mind wandered in whatever dream it now conjured. He reached out and touched one blonde lock that had freed itself from its pins and then moved it away from her face. Dried tears stained her cheek, providing a stark contrast to the peacefulness of her countenance. He wished he could prevent more from being shed, but neither of them would leave the room that morning unchanged. He was sorry for it, but he must wake her.
“Jane.” His soft whisper accompanied his hand as it cupped her cheek. She stirred and he whispered again. “Jane.”
Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled softly as she nuzzled closer to her pillow. “Richard.” Her voice was quiet and full of sleep, as if she were still dreaming. As his thumb moved across her lips, however, the spell was broken, and she was suddenly wide awake.
“Richard!” She sat up and pulled the counterpane up to her chin. “Why are you in my bed chamber, sir?”
He could not keep a smile from forming. He knew there was a fire in her, and it pleased him most thoroughly to see it.
“Waking you.”
“Why? If I had wanted to receive callers today, I would be downstairs. My uncle would take great exception to you being here.”
“You might be surprised,” he mumbled as he rose and walked to her closet. Much as she had done earlier, he looked over the gowns there, but he chose one of her old ones. “I am not here to seduce you, Jane. Although seeing you like this is a great temptation.” He looked her straight in the eyes as he handed her the gown and then turned to face the door.
She rose from the bed and quickly threw the simple morning gown over her head. “Are you going to explain yourself? It is most improper for us to be alone like this.”
He turned around and walked toward her.
“It is, and so is what I am about to do.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. Then, his lips delivered on the promise his eyes had made the other night, descending upon hers with a gentle warmth that had her instinctively melting into him. It was some time before he moved away.
“What are you doing?”
“Showing you one of the many reasons why you cannot marry Litchfield.”
He kissed her again, and the long, deep movements of his mouth over hers caused her to sigh as she learned to reciprocate his attentions. After some time, he again pulled back, reminding himself that he had come to talk. He kissed her forehead and then led her to sit on the bed.
“I need to show you something.” He pulled something from his pocket and sat beside her. “I spent much of the day yesterday talking with Wesley about our mother. I found this in a box of family jewels she left for us.”
He handed her a framed miniature painting of a beautiful young woman with b
right, curious blue eyes.
“This is not your mother? It is very different from the one at your father’s house.”
Richard nodded. “It was done the year she came out, before she met Litchfield. The artist who painted this must have been quite talented. I believe he was able to capture her spirit. Tell me what you see.”
Jane looked closely at the portrait and smiled. “She seems to be teasing somebody. She is bright and playful, like you and your brother when you are not brooding.”
“And the other portrait? What do you remember about it?”
Looking back at him, she swallowed and answered weakly. “She seemed resigned, defeated.”
“That is what life with my father will do to you, Jane.” He drew a shaky breath and looked down. “Litchfield hated me from the moment I was born. Wesley says it was because I resembled my mother’s family, whom he considered weak. I know nothing about them—if they knew what he was or if they cared or if they loved her with their whole hearts. But she was taken from them and everyone else she knew and was forced to remain in Kent. The estate can be a beautiful place, but for her, it was a prison. She had to dress and behave in a certain way or suffer the back of his hand—or worse. A few months after I left for the army, she must have determined it was finally time to seek freedom. She did so with a bottle of poison.”
Jane gasped and shivered next to him. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. She reached up and touched his cheek, her fingertips grazing the corner of his eye now filled with unshed tears. She spoke in a shaky whisper. “And what did he do to you?”
“A great many things before I learned to run.” He lowered his forehead to rest on hers. “But I cannot run now and leave you behind. You must come with me.”
She shook her head and rose from the bed. “No, Richard, you cannot ask that of me. I made promises. My family needs this connection.”
He followed her, standing so close he could feel the quick rise and fall of her chest. “Your family will never see you again once you are in his power. Can you accept that? Could you go the rest of your life without seeing your sisters?”