Time. He needed time to think and plan what to do for the best. He couldn’t allow Luke to be hurt by all this.
Constantine drove his fingers through his hair. The pain of it was almost more than he could bear. But he needed a clear head to resolve this mess. He wouldn’t achieve that if he stayed here. He needed to get away from her. He needed to get out of this house.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“What are you doing?” Jane stood at the doorway of Constantine’s bedchamber, watching him pack his bags.
He barely spared a glance for her. “Exactly what it looks like. I’m packing for London.”
“But we don’t go until tomorrow.”
When he didn’t answer her, she addressed the servants who bustled about the chamber. “Leave us, please.”
They bowed and curtsied and left the room. Jane shut the door. For a moment, she leaned back against the panels, watching Constantine. He had not ceased packing various curiosities into a large trunk.
“What is all this?” she asked quietly.
He straightened, then turned to face her. “It’s as I said. I’m going to Town.”
“Running away.”
His eyes flared, but he merely shrugged. “If you wish to put it that way. I have some inquiries to make about Luke that cannot wait.”
Something in the manner his gaze cut away made cold fingers wrap around her heart.
She whispered, “You’re leaving me, aren’t you?”
He blew out a long breath.
“You are.” Her lips worked without making a sound. “But I—”
His head tipped in an ironic bow, but she couldn’t miss the banked fury in his eyes. “Yes, you issued your royal decree, princess. You ordered that the betrothal continue, despite the opinion you obviously hold of me. Yet, I dare commit the treason of choosing for myself in the matter.”
Blood drummed in her ears so loudly, she could barely take in his words.
Instinctively, she moved toward him. “But Constantine—”
He held up a hand. “Pride. I know, it’s my besetting sin.” He sighed. “I have tried to conquer it. Thought I had, but Jane … Was it too much to expect that you’d have faith in me, despite appearances? Just this once?”
The truth dawned on her then. “Oh, God!” she whispered. What had she done? “You are not Luke’s father.”
Slowly, he shook his head. “I can swear on anything you care to name that I did not—and never have—rogered any poor housemaid and gotten a brat on her.”
His words crushed her righteous anger as a lion might crush a worm. She stammered, “But I … but you said Violet—”
“She was the most likely candidate,” he said impatiently, “that’s all.”
“But why?” Her voice scraped over the hard lump in her throat. “Why did you let me believe the worst, Constantine? You could so easily have told me the truth.”
“Yes, and I’d fully intended to do so, until I saw the condemnation in those fine eyes of yours.” He blew out a long breath. “I’m a fool, aren’t I? What a stupid impulse, letting you show what you truly thought of me. I wish to God I hadn’t seen that. But I can’t ignore what you revealed to me in the library just now. With the grave misgivings you obviously harbor about my character, it’s clear to me our marriage would be a very great mistake.”
Remorse flooded Jane’s chest in a sickening wave. Why had she been so quick to doubt him? Constantine had shown her over and over that he was a good man. His attitude toward his tenants and his servants was exemplary. He’d never so much as flirted with any of the housemaids while he’d been at Lazenby. He’d even refrained from whipping those bullying stable boys, as most men of his station would have done.
And yet, she’d believed him capable of seducing and abandoning a housemaid in his uncle’s employ.
Tears blurred her eyes at how grievously she’d misjudged him. Oh, his stubborn refusal to explain hadn’t helped matters, but he was right. She’d convicted him before he’d had the chance to defend himself. She’d summed up the evidence like a judge passing sentence, not like a woman who loved a man.
So determined not to be taken for a fool a second time.
Jane stared into Constantine’s face and the agony in his expression told her the truth. Even if he hadn’t said it aloud, he loved her.
She’d betrayed him, refused to place her faith in his decency, just as the rest of his family had done.
And now she’d lost him.
She moved toward Constantine, intending to put her hand on his arm. Palpably, he braced himself, as if for a blow. With a pain that tore at her heart, she let her hand fall.
“Don’t go,” she whispered. “Please. I made a mistake. A huge one. But—”
His face seemed to shut, locking the pain away. “No, Jane, it’s too late. It is finished between us. You will inform the duke that you have decided he’s right. That you ought not to marry a—what was that expression you used? Lout?—like me.” His jaw set. “And never fear, in London I’ll give them all ample evidence of my depravity. No one will blame you for playing the jilt.”
No, no, this was all wrong. All of it. Her brain screamed at her to take action, to stop him. “I can’t break the engagement! Constantine, what will people say?”
He looked down at her for a moment. “Since when does a Westruther care what people say?”
“I don’t! Not for myself, but … I cannot bear to cast yet another undeserved slur on your name.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “Oh, I’ll survive. I’m quite accustomed to it, in fact. Don’t worry your head about me.”
The thought of him going to the devil just to show everyone they were right about him made her furious at the waste. Courage flowed back into her, like blood through her veins. “I won’t do it.”
His dark brows snapped together. “What?”
“I won’t release you.” She stuck out her chin, scarcely conscious of mimicking his own obstinate expression. “You will marry me, Constantine. I’m not going to let you go.”
“Still determined to sacrifice your happiness on the altar of duty, are you?” He favored her with a cynical smile. “Or perhaps it’s Luke you would miss.” He shrugged. “I’m sure I can send him to visit you on an agreed schedule. You needn’t fear you’d be barred from all contact.”
“This isn’t about any of that!” Jane longed to reach out to him. She sensed his hurt underneath all that biting irony. “I love you, Constantine. In time, I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Closing his eyes, he shook his head. “Jane, Jane, it won’t work. Let me go now. For your own sake, for your dignity, release me.”
Ah, if only she’d learned the arts so many ladies employed to bring a man to his knees, she could use a few of them now. Desperate, Jane clung to his arm. “Constantine, you don’t understand!”
He was tense as a bowstring beneath her hand. “I fear I understand too well, Jane. But then, I judge people by their actions, not by the pretty things they say. You have shown me your qualms, most plainly.” He looked down at her. “What happens next time some scurrilous gossip is raised against me? Will you believe that, too? In your heart, won’t you always have doubts?”
In a low, trembling voice, she said, “My heart told me to trust you. But I’ve been frightened, uncertain of the depth of your feelings for me. Uncertain about so many things…”
She licked her lips. “Constantine, do you know how Frederick died? He suffered an apoplexy while entertaining one of his whores. In those last weeks, he was confined to his bedchamber, but that didn’t stop him bringing women into his room. I used to hear them…” She squeezed her eyes shut.
She took a shaky breath, and opened her eyes. “That night, a girl bashed on my door in a terrible state, babbling that Frederick was dead. I was obliged to smuggle her out of the house and pretend, for form’s sake, that I’d been with him when he’d expired.”
Constantine’s green eyes had flared at her disclosure but his fa
ce remained hard as granite. “I am … appalled and more sorry than I can say that Frederick treated you that way. But not all men are the same, Jane.”
It wasn’t the understanding and forgiveness she’d hoped for. She’d hurt him too deeply. “I know it is not an excuse for thinking the worst of you. But can’t you see how difficult it is for me to trust a husband after that?”
He took her hand from where it gripped his forearm and studied it. She felt the warmth of his fingertips—his hands were always warm. She ran her gaze over him, trying to imprint every beloved detail on her memory. Her heart was breaking; she could almost hear the crack as the fissure snaked through it.
At seventeen, she’d thought Frederick had broken her heart, but that had been a pinprick compared with the agony of this moment.
Still, she clung on. If she didn’t let him go, they could eventually move past this awful moment, couldn’t they? She could make him stay until he forgave her.
She choked on a sob. “I can’t live without you, Constantine.”
Gently, he said, “Perhaps you think that now. But in time, you’ll realize it’s for the best.”
Hurt made her hit out. “The best for whom? I made a mistake, one I bitterly regret, but the mistake had to do with my own fears, not with you. Life has not taught me to trust people easily.”
She softened. “Life has taught you to leave before someone can betray you. I understand that. And I wish I could go back and change it all, but I can’t.”
“You want to change what’s past. What about the future?” He shook his head. “When I told you about Amanda, I thought you understood me. I thought you knew.”
He gripped her upper arms. She almost flinched from the intensity in his face. “Everything I’ve done since I came to this place has been in your service. I wanted to show you…” He exhaled a sharp breath, and it occurred to her how unutterably weary he looked. “I wanted to show myself I wasn’t the man the world thought I was. It seems I’ve failed.”
Desperate for purchase, she clawed to fight her way back. “And now you’re going to prove the world correct? Well, I’m not going to let you. You love me, Constantine. You’re terrified of being hurt and you’re wishing for an easy way out. I’m not going to give it to you.”
Anger blazed across his face. “You’ll give it to me if you want to keep your proud reputation, Lady Roxdale. Break the engagement. The news can’t have spread far yet. Even if it has, you’ll be congratulated on your lucky escape.”
“My reputation?” She snapped her fingers. “What do I care for that? For me, there is no escape from my love for you, no matter where you are or what you do.”
She took a deep breath. “If you want to end the engagement, Constantine, you’ll have to act the scoundrel, indeed. You will have to break it yourself.”
He’d looked pale before, but the last vestige of color now drained from his face.
She’d hit him with everything she had. She knew they could move past this hurdle if only he would give her time. Time to show him how vital he was to her, how much she loved him. How sincerely she believed in his innate decency.
The struggle to rise above her own pain seemed to wrench at her insides. “Constantine, you are the most courageous, honorable man I know,” she said. “Think hard about what you do now. If not for my sake, for your own. You’ve held on to your honor all this time, through some of the worst tests a gentleman can endure. Since you’ve been at Lazenby you’ve earned the respect of more people than you can possibly know. Please, my love. Don’t throw it all away.”
A scratch on the door interrupted them. It was Feather. “Carriage is ready, my lord.”
“Constantine!” Jane pleaded, careless of how she might appear.
His gaze was distant now, as if he’d already left. “I’ll stay away for the Season. That should give you enough time to strip the place of what belongs to you.” Without even meeting her eyes, he made a curt bow and walked toward the door, apparently forgetting that his trunk still lay open in the middle of the room.
The pain nearly overwhelmed her. Jane barely mustered the strength to call after him. “I’m not going to release you, Constantine!”
He stopped and turned back. There was grim acceptance in his face.
“You won’t have to.”
And then he was gone.
* * *
The silence was so profound that it buzzed in her ears. Jane put her hand to her mouth, fighting the harsh sobs that threatened to rip from her. She’d lost the battle. He meant to jilt her. Ordinarily, a gentleman could not, in honor, break a betrothal because that would damage the lady’s reputation beyond repair.
But here, the circumstances were different. Constantine had already transgressed once. By jilting a lady of Jane’s breeding and reputation, he would not injure her; he would brand himself a thorough scoundrel, so far beyond the pale that she dreaded to think of the treatment he would suffer at the hands of his peers.
Refuse to marry a country nobody who’d been found in his bedchamber—that was one thing. Break an engagement to a Westruther and he would be shunned the length and breadth of England. The Duke of Montford would come after him like an avenging angel, show him no mercy. Not to mention Beckenham and Andrew, and Xavier, too. Her cousins would tear him to pieces.
Constantine meant to destroy himself.
She couldn’t let that happen. If she had to do the unthinkable and release him from his promises, she would not let him sink that far.
There was no time to waste. Even as a wrenching sob broke from her chest, Jane flew back to her bedchamber. She yanked the bell pull, mentally calculating all she’d need for the journey to London.
Jane glanced out the window, where clouds gathered once again, disavowing the bright promise of the morning. Spots of drizzle appeared on the windowpane.
She couldn’t go anywhere tonight. There were a hundred matters to see to before she left. She’d have to break the news of their altered plans to Luke, as well. She didn’t want to alarm him with a precipitate journey through the night.
The sense of loss, the despair, threatened to overtake her if she didn’t keep moving, doing. She would not rest until she got him back. She’d wield every ounce of the power she held over him to bring him to his senses. She would make him see …
They belonged together. She couldn’t countenance an existence without Constantine Black in it.
* * *
The sick feeling in the pit of Constantine’s stomach grew as he issued last-minute orders to his staff. As he put on his hat, he realized he’d forgotten his collection of curiosities, and swore under his breath. He didn’t want to go back there, and he didn’t ever let anyone else handle them. He’d have to leave them behind.
“Feather, try if you can find Luke, please. I want to see him before I go.”
He’d debated taking Luke with him, but he’d be damnably poor company for the lad. Then, too, he could not take Luke away from Jane, no matter what she’d done.
He looked forward with a grim sense of hopelessness. The trip to London would hardly be the sojourn he’d planned. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying in vain to block out the pain. The town house would ache with emptiness without her. Images flooded his mind, vignettes of everything he’d leave behind. All of them featured Jane.
“Where’re you going, sir?”
Constantine looked down to see the face of his ward etched with concern.
Constantine attempted a reassuring smile, but his facial muscles cramped, refusing to oblige him. “There’s been a slight change of plans. I must leave immediately for London. An urgent piece of business has arisen and I must deal with it.”
“You’re not waiting until tomorrow, to come with us?”
“No.” He hesitated. He ought to inform Luke of the imminent change in circumstances. Jane would soon be gone from Lazenby Hall.
“Luke, I…” The words jarred painfully in his throat.
He put his hand on the lad’s shou
lder. “I need to go away now, but I’ll be back for you soon. Whatever happens, I will come back.”
His guts twisted at the way Luke screwed up his mouth to keep from showing his disappointment. God, why was this so hard? Before he came to Lazenby Hall, he hadn’t needed to consider anyone else’s feelings.
He bent to give the boy a manly hug, then drew back. “Will you do something for me, Luke?”
The boy’s eyes widened. “Yes, sir.”
“You’re the man of the house now. Will you take care of Lady Roxdale while I’m gone?”
Luke’s chest puffed out a little. “’Course I will.” He tilted his head to one side. Those hungry dark eyes seemed to swallow Constantine whole. “When will you be back?”
Someone besides himself to think of now. Someone to answer to. Someone who cared how long he was gone.
“I don’t know, Luke. Soon, I hope. I will see you soon.”
With a sense of ripping out some vital piece of himself, he set his jaw and climbed into the waiting carriage.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Luke sat cross-legged on the window seat while he watched Jane order the packing. It was such a comfort to have him there, like an elf overseeing his workers. She’d sensed a new air of protectiveness about him. Had he guessed the reason for Constantine’s early departure?
Perhaps Luke was like most children; he simply knew when things went awry.
“Lady Arden has agreed, we’ll leave at first light,” Jane said briskly. “I want to get to London as quickly as we can, but we’ll be obliged to stop somewhere along the way. I’ve told Higgins to pack for you, but why don’t you see if there are any special books or games you’d like to bring?”
He hesitated, as if reluctant to leave her, but she smiled reassuringly. “Go on, dear. I’m nearly finished here.”
She stood by the window and looked out over the long, straight drive. In her mind’s eye, she saw Constantine again, galloping up like a prince to rescue his fair maiden from the tower. A dark prince, she’d thought.
Heiress in Love (Ministry of Marriage Novels) Page 29