by Beers, Laura
Jane placed the cup back onto the saucer. “I disagree.”
“And why is that?”
“I don’t love him.”
Her mother pressed her lips together in disapproval. “I daresay you didn’t give Lord Brinton’s offer a fair chance.”
“I assure you that I considered it most thoughtfully.”
Baldwin spoke up from the head of the table. “What’s done is done,” he said, lowering the morning newspaper in his hands. “There is no reason to fret about it now.”
“I worry that Jane is being too picky in selecting a suitor,” his mother stated. “I just don’t want her to end up as a spinster.”
“Being a spinster isn’t the worst thing,” Baldwin remarked.
His mother removed the napkin from her lap and placed it on the table. “A marriage brings forth security,” she asserted.
“Or a myriad of new problems,” Jane argued.
Baldwin smirked. “Jane does bring up a valid argument.”
“I just want you to have what your father and I had,” their mother said. “We loved each other and were fiercely devoted to one another.”
“I want that, as well,” Jane responded, “but it won’t be with Lord Brinton.”
“May I ask what you objected to? Was his title not lofty enough for you?”
“Heavens, no—”
Speaking over her, her mother pressed, “Was he not handsome enough for you?”
“That had nothing to do with my decision.”
Her mother frowned. “You truly could not grow to love him?”
Jane shook her head. “Lord Brinton is undoubtedly handsome, and any young woman would be lucky to have him.”
“But?”
“But he isn’t the right man for me.”
Her mother leaned back in her chair and didn’t speak for a long moment. Finally, she said, “I was hoping to see you settled down with children before I die.”
“Fortunately, I have an ample amount of time before that happens,” Jane remarked, smiling.
Her mother’s face grew solemn. “The doctor informed me that my heart is getting weaker each day.”
“When was this?” Baldwin asked, suddenly alert.
“I met with him yesterday,” their mother replied. “I informed you that I went shopping, but it was just an excuse to meet with the doctor privately.”
“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Jane asked.
Their mother offered them a sad smile. “I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily.”
“Unnecessarily?” Baldwin repeated. “You should have told us at once!”
“Nothing can be done about it,” she said.
Baldwin reached for his mother’s hand. “We shall seek out the best doctors for your care,” he asserted. “With any luck, you will live another fifty years.”
“Wouldn’t that be wonderful?” she asked. “However, I don’t believe that is likely to happen.”
Jane’s eyes filled with tears. “You mustn’t give up, Mother.”
“I have no intention to,” she replied, “but you must understand that I have already led a full, rich life.”
“Not long enough, if you ask me,” Baldwin declared.
“I have lived a life that was full of love and laughter,” his mother said, glancing between them. “That is what I want for all of my children.”
“Why are you speaking as if you are saying goodbye?” Jane asked.
Her mother smiled tenderly. “We don’t know what this world will throw at us, but I am ready for anything that comes my way.”
“But I’m not,” Jane pressed.
“You are a strong woman, much stronger than you give yourself credit for,” her mother said. “Now do you understand why I have been so adamant for you to find a suitor?”
Jane nodded. “I do.”
“I just want you to be happy.”
Baldwin pushed back his chair and rose. “If you will excuse me, I have work that I need to see to, but we shall continue to discuss this later.” He walked over and leaned down to kiss his mother’s cheek. “I love you, Mother.”
“I love you, too,” she murmured.
After Baldwin exited the parlor, she rose and said, “I believe I shall rest for a while.”
“Would you like me to escort you to your bedchamber?” Jane asked.
“That won’t be necessary.”
Jane watched as her mother glided out of the room, and she found herself dwelling on the unwelcome news that had just been shared. Her mother had always been the one constant in her life. She couldn’t imagine a life without her mother in it. Frankly, she didn’t want to.
Rising, Jane walked out of the parlor and stepped into the entry hall. A knock came at the door. She watched as Pratt strode across the marble floor to answer it. He opened the door and the familiar voice of Lord Evan drifted through the air. A thrill of anticipation raced through her at the sound of his deep, baritone voice.
As Lord Evan stepped into the entry hall, his eyes landed on her and a slow smile spread across his lips. He bowed. “Lady Jane,” he started, “what an enchanting surprise.”
She tipped her head. “How are you faring this morning?”
“I am well.” Lord Evan took a step closer to her and stopped. “We have to stop meeting like this,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Unsure of what to say, and afraid of making herself look like a fool, she rushed to say, “Are you here to see Baldwin?”
“I am.”
“Would you like me to escort you to his study?”
“I would be honored,” he replied, offering his arm.
Jane stepped forward and placed her hand on his sleeve. “I would be remiss if I didn’t ask how your father is faring.”
He grew serious. “Not well.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“As am I.”
As they walked down the hall, Lord Evan glanced over at her. “I would much rather hear how you are faring.”
“Well, I am dreadfully bored.”
“Why is that?”
“Baldwin has insisted that I don’t leave Hawthorne House without taking him along as my escort,” Jane shared.
“I think that is wise.”
“You do?”
Lord Evan nodded. “If someone was brazen enough to attempt to abduct you in Hyde Park, I’m afraid it could happen anywhere.”
“I can’t possibly live my life in fear,” she said. “That is no way to live.”
“I agree with you.”
“I’m pleased to hear that.”
Lord Evan smiled. “You will discover that I am rather agreeable when it comes to you, my dear.”
Jane felt her cheeks grow increasingly warm at his use of the term of endearment. “Is that so?” she murmured.
“Perhaps Baldwin would permit me to escort you on a ride in a few days.”
Jane’s breath hitched at his offer, and she worked to keep the eagerness out of her voice. “I think that would be most agreeable, assuming he is not opposed to it.”
“I hope not,” Lord Evan said. “After all, riding is an excellent pastime for any young woman.”
“That it is.”
Lord Evan stopped in the hall and pointed towards a portrait of her great-aunt. “This is a lovely portrait,” he commented. “May I ask who it is?”
“It’s my dear great-aunt, whom I was named after,” she explained.
“She must have been a remarkable woman.”
“That she was,” Jane replied. “She was widowed at a young age, and she refused to marry again, even though she had an abundance of suitors.”
“Why was that?”
Jane sighed. “She loved her husband with her whole heart, and she claimed she never found love again.”
“That is rather endearing.”
“I agree,” she replied. “My great-uncle left her comfortable, so she was most fortunate that she didn’t have to rely on anyone.”
“That was rather fortunate.”
Jane’s eyes searched his as she asked, “Do you believe in love, Lord Evan?”
“That is a rather complicated question.”
“I don’t believe it is.”
Lord Evan’s eyes left hers to study her great-aunt’s portrait. “I believe it is easy to fall in love, but the real test of that love is if it can endure.”
“Well, I believe two people can fall so deliriously in love that nothing else matters.”
Lord Evan chuckled. “If only it was that easy.”
“It can be.”
“Not in our circles, I’m afraid.”
“Why do you say that?”
The smile on Lord Evan’s face dimmed. “You can’t possibly be this naïve?”
Jane removed her hand from his arm and took a step back. “Pardon?”
“I’m afraid that love doesn’t conquer all,” he asserted. “That is fantastical nonsense, and only happens in books.”
“I disagree.”
Lord Evan’s eyes held a profound sadness. “Love isn’t always enough,” he murmured. “Sometimes, if you truly love a person, you have to set them free.”
“And what if that person doesn’t wish to be set free?” Jane asked boldly as she stared into his eyes.
Lord Evan’s eyes flickered in surprise as Baldwin exited his study.
“I thought I heard Corbyn out here,” Baldwin said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Come into my study.”
Lord Evan gave her a strained smile. “Thank you for escorting me, Lady Jane.”
“It was my pleasure, my lord.”
Jane remained rooted in place as Lord Evan walked into the study with Baldwin and closed the door. Would he ever admit that he held her in some regard, or would she be left pining after him for the remainder of her days? No, that would never do. Next time she saw Lord Evan, she would tell him how she felt and hope he felt the same.
Chapter Fourteen
As Baldwin closed the door behind him, Corbyn walked over to the drink cart and poured himself a drink. He picked up the glass and took a long, lingering sip. He wanted to wipe from his memory the look of hurt on Jane’s face when they had spoken about love. He knew he couldn’t give her the one thing that he knew she wanted. Love. No, Jane deserved better than him.
Her eyes expressed volumes to him in unspoken words, and he knew that he was no good for her. It pained him to admit, but it was the truth. She deserved a marriage with someone uncomplicated whom she could trust completely. And that was most definitely not him.
“Is everything all right?” Baldwin asked, interrupting his musings.
“No.”
Baldwin joined Corbyn at the drink cart and picked up the decanter. “Did something transpire between you and my sister?”
“I did not come here to discuss Lady Jane,” Corbyn stated gruffly.
“I see that you are being especially pleasant this morning,” Baldwin joked.
Corbyn pressed his lips together. “I apologize, but I’m afraid I have a lot on my mind.”
“Such as?”
“My agents have scoured London and have found no sign of Kerley,” Corbyn shared, walking over to the mantel. “Not even a trace of him.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Baldwin remarked.
“I’m afraid he is going to strike again.”
“Why do you say that?”
“It’s just a feeling that I have.”
Baldwin picked up his glass and walked over to the settee. After he sat down, he said, “Kerley won’t be able to abduct Jane from Hawthorne House. I have hired additional guards to protect the perimeter.”
“It pleases me immensely to hear that.”
“Who else do you think he would target?”
Corbyn took a sip of his drink. “He could come after my family.”
“But everyone knows that you are estranged from them.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t care for them,” Corbyn said. “Besides, I am not estranged from my mother.”
Baldwin bobbed his head. “You make a good point.”
“To be cautious, I assigned two agents to guard their townhouse from any potential threats,” Corbyn shared.
“I believe that to be a wise decision.”
Corbyn gulped back the rest of his drink and left the empty glass on the mantel. “I tire of this game, especially since Kerley has the upper hand.”
“I have no doubt you will find him and end this madness.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence.”
Baldwin held up his glass. “You’re welcome.”
Corbyn placed his hands on the mantel and leaned forward. “I still haven’t heard from Sanders,” he said.
“You haven’t?” Baldwin asked, growing solemn.
“Frankly, I am getting worried,” Corbyn admitted. “Perhaps I put him back into the field too soon.”
“You mustn’t think that way.”
“How am I supposed to think?” Corbyn asked. “I made it very clear to Sanders that he was to keep me posted on his progress.”
“You don’t think Kerley found him first?”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
Baldwin leaned forward and put his glass on the table in front of him. “Sanders is a competent agent,” he said. “He might have a good reason for not writing.”
“I hope so, because I can’t lose another agent.”
“You won’t.”
“I wish I had your confidence.” Corbyn straightened from the mantel. “On that note, I should go visit my father.”
“I wish you luck, then.”
“Thank you.”
Corbyn walked over to the door. “If you need anything,” Baldwin said, “all you have to do is ask.”
“I appreciate that, Baldwin,” Corbyn replied as he opened the door. He started walking towards the entry hall, hoping he would get another chance to speak to Jane, but he was not so lucky. She was nowhere to be found. Truth be told, he had stopped by Hawthorne House under the guise of speaking to Baldwin, but it was really to see Jane, even if only for a moment.
After he was situated in the coach, it lurched forward and departed from Hawthorne House. Due to light traffic, it wasn’t long before he arrived at his family’s townhouse.
The coach came to a jerking stop, and the footman stepped off his perch to open the door. Corbyn stepped onto the street and stared up at the townhouse. Would he ever be able to see this place without it bringing forth a wave of unpleasant memories?
The main door opened, and Mott greeted him. “Good morning, milord.”
“Good morning,” Corbyn replied as he stepped inside.
“Would you care for some breakfast?”
Corbyn removed his gloves and extended them towards the butler. “That won’t be necessary,” he said. “Is my mother available for callers?”
“She is taking breakfast in her dressing room,” Mott shared.
“Then I shall go speak to her.”
“As you wish, milord.”
Corbyn walked up the stairs and headed towards his mother’s dressing room. He stopped outside of the door and knocked.
“Enter,” she ordered.
Corbyn opened the door and stepped inside to see his mother seated on the settee, wearing a wrapper. A tray of food sat on a table in front of her.
“Evan,” his mother greeted, rising. “What a pleasant surprise.”
He stepped over and kissed her on the cheek. “I thought I would come earlier to speak to Father.”
“He will be most appreciative of that.”
“I doubt it.”
His mother gave him an understanding smile. “Your father loves you, but he isn’t very good at conveying his emotions.”
“No, he is not.”
“I do wish you would let bygones be bygones and appreciate the little time that you have left together.”
Corbyn frowned. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, Mother.”
“And why is that?”
“Father wants me to be something that I’m not.”
“I disagree,” she replied. “You are precisely that man, but you refuse to accept that and come home.”
“I am content where I am at.”
“I know, but you can’t blame me for trying, especially since I worry about Simon.”
“Why is that?”
His mother sighed. “He hasn’t stopped drinking since Catherine left,” she said. “He is taking her leaving rather hard.”
“It was because of his choices that led to her abrupt departure.”
“I know, but I can tell he is hurting,” she remarked.
“Do you suppose he will go after her?”
She shook her head. “Your brother is much too prideful for that.”
“Then he doesn’t deserve her.”
A loud thud came from his father’s bedchamber. Corbyn raced over to the door that separated the rooms and threw it open. To his horror, his father was on the ground, struggling against a dark-haired man who was smothering him with a pillow.
“Unhand him!” Corbyn ordered as he retrieved the pistol from the waistband of his trousers.
When the man didn’t immediately respond, Corbyn took aim, intending to only wound him, and fired. The bullet struck the man’s right arm, causing him to release his hold.
The attacker rose, his beady eyes not straying from Corbyn’s. With his left arm, he retrieved a dagger from his boot and held it out in front of him.
Corbyn heard his mother gasp from behind him. “Have Mott send for the constable!” he ordered over his shoulder.
He eyed the man’s bloody shirt sleeve. “Fighting is futile. You are injured.”
“I’ve had worse injuries than this,” the man scoffed.
“You’ve been shot before?”
“Many times.”
“Then I daresay you are in the wrong profession,” Corbyn quipped.
The attacker stepped closer. “You are a dead man.”
“I think not,” Corbyn replied, his body alert. “I would prefer to live another day.”
With a lunge, the man swiped his dagger at Corbyn, forcing him to jump back. “Don’t worry, milord, your death will be quick,” he taunted.
“Who hired you?” Corbyn asked.
“A wise man who knew I always get the job done.”
Corbyn let out a dry chuckle. “How do you propose you will make your escape from here?” he asked. “Even now, I hear the footmen at the door, and it is only a matter of time before they apprehend you.”