Her One True Love

by Rachel Brimble

  Her need to see him smile, and the rapidity of her heartbeat when it finally appeared, was shameful. Add the reaction of her traitorous body, and it was downright common. Tears pricked her eyes, and Jane swiped at her face as annoyance rose and squeezed at her heart. She would not falter. She was strong and would be in charge of her life from the moment she escaped Marksville’s clutches.

  Knock, knock.

  Jane hurried toward her suitcase atop the bed, feigning the action of closing the locks. “Come in.”

  Her sister’s familiar scent accompanied Monica as she swept into the room. “Are you ready? Matthew’s arrived and I must say, he’s looking more handsome than I’ve seen him in weeks.”

  Jane briefly closed her eyes before planting on a serene smile and turning around. “Is that so? Well, maybe my words to him at dinner permeated that stubborn head of his and he’s decided to brush up his act.”

  “Brush up his act?” Monica laughed and closed the space between them, taking Jane’s hands in hers. “Are you really determined to continue this charade with me as you are with Matthew?”

  “What charade?” Jane frowned. “He jolly well knows I meant it when I told him he needs to get on with things.”

  “Hmm . . .” Monica raised an eyebrow. “Yet once he’d left, you returned to the dining room with a smile worthy of a woman one hundred percent in love.” She frowned. “You will try to play nice on the journey, won’t you? Moreover, accept that Matthew is still reeling from his wife’s betrayal. I know how you feel about him, but to expect any more on his part is—”

  “Foolish. I know.” Jane eased her hands from Monica’s and walked to her dressing table, lifting her hat from its stand. “Which is why I will be polite and courteous during the miles to Bath and bid him good wishes for the future once we arrive.”

  Monica came up behind her and took the hat from Jane’s hands. She nodded to the chair in front of the mirror. “Sit.”

  Jane did and allowed Monica to pin her hat into place. As she did so, Jane stared at her sister’s reflection. “You’ll be absolutely fine here with Thomas. You do know that, don’t you?”

  Monica laughed, but the tears in her eyes belied her sadness of Jane’s leaving. “Of course I do. You forget the many years I spent in Bath without you and him.” She lifted her gaze to Jane’s. “I’ll miss you. You’ve become somewhat important to my life over the last year or so.” She winked. “But I’m sure I’ll survive while you’re gone.”

  Jane laughed, her eyes stinging with tears. “I do love you.”

  “And I love you.” Monica slid a final pin into place. “There. Done. Now stand so I can see you.”

  Jane stood, and they smiled at one another before Jane pulled Monica into her arms and held her. “Please don’t worry about me. I’m made of the same stuff as you, am I not? I want to go. I need to go. That doesn’t mean I won’t trip and stumble, maybe even fall flat on my face.” She pulled back and brushed her thumbs under Monica’s eyes, her own tears sliding over her cheeks. “But at least I’ll have Jeannie to pick me up, and know I have you, Thomas, little Thomas, and Mrs. Seton to come home to whenever I wish.”

  Monica smiled and wiped at Jane’s face. “You will. Always. Now, enough of this melancholy nonsense. Let’s get downstairs and see what the men are up to. I daren’t leave Thomas alone for too long or he might break our news to anyone prepared to listen, with or without my say-so.”

  Jane frowned. “Your news?”

  Monica’s eyes lit up like the stage lights she loved so dearly. Her cheeks reddened, and her smile stretched to a grin. “I’m with child again, Jane. Thomas and I are going to have another baby come the summer.”

  The revelation pushed like a fist into Jane’s stomach, stealing the air from her lungs. A baby. Monica was to have another baby. As happy as she was for her sister, Jane fought the sadness for her own lack of love and children, her fears for what she’d never have squeezing at her heart like a vise. She forced a smile. “Oh Monica. That’s such wonderful news.” She pulled her sister into her arms as her vision blurred. “Such wonderful, wonderful news.”

  As they embraced, Jane berated her envy and inability to wholeheartedly celebrate the joy in her dear sister’s life. Yet her longing was a fight too painful, too bloody, and there was nothing to do but tolerate it as she would the slash of the sharpest knife.

  Monica pulled back and grinned. “Now, stop that silly crying, young lady. You have a brand-new life to start living.” She swept toward Jane’s bed and lifted her suitcase. “Are you ready?”

  Jane laughed. “I’m more than ready. Give me that suitcase. You shouldn’t be carrying anything in your condition.”

  Monica rolled her eyes. “For heaven’s sake, don’t you start with that babble. Thomas is already fluttering around me like a mother hen.”

  Jane followed her sister out of the bedroom and down the stairs. When Matthew looked up from his place in the hallway and their eyes met, the pain in Jane’s heart gathered strength, telling her in no uncertain terms her toughest journey had only just begun.

  She lifted her chin.

  But, by God, she would have the strength to endure it.

  Matthew kept his eyes averted from Jane for the entirety of the time it took him and Thomas to load her and Jeannie’s luggage onto the carriage. He continued the same throughout the lengthy farewells on Marksville’s doorstep. It wasn’t until it was time to help Jane into the carriage that he allowed himself a second glance at her since she’d appeared on the stairs inside the house.

  Resplendent in a dress of mauve, trimmed with purple collar and cuffs, the darkness of her hair shone beneath her matching hat, tilted to the side as seemed to be the women’s fashion. So used to her in dresses of less eye-catching colors as she went about her business in the village or tending to her family’s needs, her message was clear. She was setting on a new path. One that he and her family would not necessarily be a part of.

  Protectiveness unfurled as Matthew turned his hand to Jeannie. Even with her maid accompanying her, Jane had no idea of the types of men who would undoubtedly be vying for her attention in the city.

  Cads and dandies often dressed in the finest clothes to hide the most devious of hearts. Confidence tricksters and lowlifes paraded around as men of good breeding, watching and waiting for their prey like vultures.

  Did she think they would care for her as he did? Would want to ensure her happiness and safety?

  She was a woman with a beautiful face and a stunning figure. A woman forging her own life and making her own decisions. She was leaving behind, not just Marksville and her long-suffering duty to a mother who cared not for her daughters’ happiness, but also her position in the village and beyond. She was moneyed, financially independent. Did she not understand the immediate danger such a standing gave her?

  With the women comfortably seated, Matthew pulled his lips together and levered himself inside the carriage, beside Jane. He slammed the door and glanced at Jeannie and Jane in turn. “Are we all set?”

  Jane nodded, her spine rigid and her smile far too wide. “We are.” She looked at Jeannie. “We can barely contain our excitement. Isn’t that right, Jeannie?”

  “It is, Miss—”

  “Ah, Jane from now on, remember? We are outside of Marksville’s doors and, from this moment on, you are my companion, not my maid.”

  Matthew clenched his jaw. Did the woman think this jaunt a joke? That she was embarking on a day trip with friends? He leaned toward the open window of the carriage. “On we go, Simmons.”

  The carriage jolted away, and Jane leaned across him to wave to Monica, Thomas, and Mrs. Seton. Matthew stiffened as the scent of rose water and something else that must be entirely Jane drifted beneath his nostrils. He stared at the dark curls at her cheeks, the smooth curve of her neck . . . how was he to allow her to be exposed to God only knew what?

  Laughing, she pulled back and glanced at him as she settled against the seat once more. “I c
an’t believe I am actually doing this.”

  Matthew stared. “Me neither.”

  “Oh Matthew, do you have to be such a killjoy? Can you not be happy for Jeannie and me and wish us well?”

  “Not when you act so nonchalant about such a gigantic change. I fear you have no idea what dangers you could encounter without protection.”

  Her smile dissolved and her eyes darkened. “I will have all the protection as and when I need it. Do you remember Adam and Laura Lacey?”

  He frowned as hazy recollection filled his memory. “The playwright and his wife?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I will look them up as soon as I am able. I’m certain they will be more than happy to escort me if the need should arise. Now, we have hours of traveling ahead. Can you at least try to be happier company?”

  Turning away, she leaned forward and grasped Jeannie’s hand. The two of them instantly started to excitedly talk about the prospects ahead of them.

  Dragging his gaze to the window, Matthew silently cursed his negativity. What good would it do to annoy Jane further when he wanted her to come to him if she was concerned or worried about anything? A single letter or message from her and he would come to Bath instantly. Nothing romantic had occurred between them, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t always held hers and Monica’s best interests in his heart.

  Maybe Jane’s more than Monica’s, but that was only because Monica had left Biddestone a long time ago, only to return these past two years.

  Liar.

  Jane had always meant more to him, but his work and lineage, added to her family commitments, had put a stop to pursuing anything further with her . . . so he’d married Elizabeth.

  And just look how well that turned out.

  He risked a glance at Jane’s profile as she pointed at something in the distance through the opposite window. Jeannie laughed.

  Matthew clenched his jaw.

  When Jane had slid her hand into his as he helped her aboard, the fear she might not return, but instead seek a career in Bath as Monica had, gripped him with the ferocity of a boa constrictor.

  Her increased fortitude wasn’t that which he’d known before when she had helped him with a dispute or upset among the villagers. The determination emanating from her now was a raw and time-ready resolve and, by God, it unnerved him.

  He took the unobserved moment to study her. Her flawless, almost innocent beauty conflicted with her oft-sharp words and opinions. She was like a silk glove encased around an iron fist. What kind of man did it make him that he noticed Jane so intensely now she was to leave? Self-disgust rippled through him, and Matthew turned away.

  He’d worked feverishly to put plans into place in order to better Biddestone’s prospects. He had plans and aspirations he would see through to the end. What did it matter that he’d brought those ideals forward through a mad, impulsive need to accompany Jane to Bath?

  She sighed and settled back against the seat as they headed along another lane that would lead them through Biddestone and out the other side toward the city.

  Matthew glanced at her lap. The continuous clenching and unclenching of her fingers at her pursestrings betrayed her tension. Tension he was certain she’d not felt around him until recently.

  He cleared his throat. “You still maintain you’re doing the right thing by leaving the village?”

  She snapped her gaze to his, her hazel eyes steady and determined. “Of course. I should’ve explored Papa’s house and everything it entails months ago.”

  “So why is now your chosen time to make this new beginning? Your father’s will was read more than a year ago. Hasn’t someone been renting the property?”

  “Yes, but the tenancy wasn’t renewed and . . .” She looked to her lap. “Other things have happened over the last few months that made me question why I continue to live day after day in a place where nothing ever changes.” She met his eyes. “Now is the right time for me to start exploring my life more fervently.”

  Her response brought questions to his tongue, questions he had no right to ask. She had been beside him in one way or another for months before today. Shame pinched hot at his cheeks. He’d never thought to ask her what she needed or sought outside of Biddestone’s affairs. He only needed to know she was there when he needed her unwavering support with decisions that might not necessarily be popular with the villagers.

  The bitter taste of self-revulsion burned his throat. “I owe you further explanation for my recent behavior.”

  She lifted her head, her gaze boring into his before she turned to the window. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “Yes, I do.” He took her hand in his, without thinking, as if the contact were a reflex he couldn’t control.

  She stiffened, but he held firm.

  She glanced at Jeannie, a blush rising on her neck as Jeannie snatched her gaze to the window, her cheeks bright with color. Matthew waited.

  Jane turned and eased her hand from his. “What is it you have to say, Matthew? I will listen to you but do not understand why you feel you owe me anything.”

  He briefly closed his eyes as he grappled to find a suitable explanation for his miserable attitude and cold treatment of her and the many others who had done their best to reach out to him over the past weeks and months. The same people he’d sworn he would never neglect nor close his door upon their visits and needs.

  He exhaled. “When Elizabeth left . . . when she told me she had taken a lover, my entire life was ripped from underneath me. Her actions, the clarity in which she delivered her betrayals, knocked me entirely off-kilter. I didn’t realize how much I had planned.”

  “Such as?”

  “A lasting and happy marriage. Children. When Elizabeth left, I felt as though all those things walked out the door with her.”

  She stared, unexpected sadness appearing in her eyes. “And you still feel that way?”

  He nodded. “I can’t imagine that changing for a long, long time.”

  “I see.” She turned to the window. “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way. One’s happiness should not be entirely given over to another. I have learned over the years, the only person you can truly rely on for your happiness is yourself.”

  He frowned. “You don’t believe a marriage can bring happiness?”

  She faced him, her eyes bright with what looked like tears. “Did you truly love her?”

  Jeannie’s sharp intake of breath caused Matthew to look at her, even though he still felt the strength of Jane’s scrutiny at his temple. Jeannie’s eyes were wide before she blinked and looked to her lap.

  Matthew clenched his jaw, his study on Jeannie’s bowed head as shame engulfed him. “I thought love would come eventually. I tried all I could to encourage it in my heart and hers.” He looked at Jane. “But in the short eighteen months or so we were together, only tolerated companionship emerged.”

  “I see.” Jane cleared her throat, her gaze lingering at his mouth before lifting to his eyes. “Then I’m not sure what else you expected.”

  Irritation churned inside him. “I expected her fidelity. Was it naïve of me to expect such a thing?”

  She swallowed, the determination in her eyes cooling to sadness as she shook her head. “No, that should’ve been expected.”

  “Well, I’m glad we agree on that, at least.”

  She lifted her fingers and swiped beneath her eyes. “Disappointment isn’t your monopoly, Matthew. Others have known it before you and will continue to do so as long as there is life on earth.”

  He had more or less confessed his deepest feelings to her, yet it had done nothing to thaw her coldness. His temper simmered. “I know that.”

  “Good. Then you’ll also understand and not feel the need to ask me again why I am going to the city.” She tilted her chin, her gaze now bright and clear. “I have suffered heartbreak, rejection, and a blasé ignorance of my feelings. It will be as well to find further dismissal of my emotions in Bath, if that is my destiny, than waiting
for another onslaught in Biddestone.”

  “Someone has rejected you in Biddestone? But who? What man could possibly—”

  Her sharp laugh cut the air. “Oh Matthew, do not worry yourself who this man might be. It is of no further concern to me. I wish to forge a new life now. A life where this individual has no bearing on my decisions or feelings.”

  “And what of everyone who loves you in the village? Your family?”

  She smiled. “All I do is leave Monica and Thomas a home of their own as a newly married couple, a village to their squire, and a past I’d rather bury. I leave no wreckage, only lessons learned.”

  She inched away from him, toward the window, as the interior of the carriage darkened with the incoming clouds and the renewed hostility between them. He scowled and turned to the window. Why had he presumed to see more in Jane when it was abundantly clear her determination to live her own her life was so reminiscent of his estranged wife? Well, that was fine. If Jane wanted her independence, she could damn well have it.

  Chapter 4

  Jane clasped her hands tighter about her reticule as the carriage continued its agonizingly slow journey toward the city. Matthew’s pain at his wife’s betrayal, and subsequent estrangement, had been etched upon every inch of his handsome face and in every fleck of his brilliant blue eyes. He might have said he didn’t love Elizabeth, but how could that be when he spoke so vehemently about her? At the bare minimum, he missed her.

  Shame rolled like a brand over Jane’s skin as she thought of the times she had envied Elizabeth’s position. What must it feel like to be in a marriage when you were aware your husband did not love you? Jane frowned. Had Elizabeth loved Matthew? Or had Matthew’s lack of affection toward her forced her into the arms of another?

  His sincerity had been undeniable when he said he’d done all he could to encourage his and Elizabeth’s love. Jane knew him. The soft admiration in his eyes when he looked at her; the supportive way he put his arm about the shoulders of the men in the village while doing all he could to help them. Those were what made Matthew so wholly human. The times she saw him in the village, tossing one of the villager’s children in the air and catching them until the child screeched with laughter. Those were the times she’d ached to share his life.