The Return of Lady Jane

by Michaels, Jess

  Jane shut her eyes. “Did he?”

  “Yes. And after I told him how uneventful it was, he asked me to deliver this letter to you when you were readying yourself.”

  Jane’s lip trembled and she pressed them together to stop it. “Was there anything else you observed while you were with him?”

  Laura shifted. “I saw a stack of other letters on his desk, and paper and a quill.”

  Jane caught her breath, and the maid looked uncomfortable.

  “There is more, I suppose?” Jane asked, trying to set aside her curiosity at the idea of Colin being surrounded by letters that were apparently to her. “Did you hear something below stairs? I’m sure the servants must be going wild with this strange turn of events.”

  Laura worried her lip. “I wouldn’t want to repeat gossip…”

  Jane arched a brow. “We’ve known each other a long time, Laura. Repeat away. I need to know.”

  “Well, the servants are confused, I admit. After all, Lord Wharton does not come here often and never since your marriage. Carson, the third footman, said…” She trailed off. “Perhaps I ought not.”

  Jane let out the breath she had been holding. “I already told you, I want to know. What did Carson say?”

  Laura leaned forward, her voice a whisper. “He told me that Lord Wharton arrived here completely unexpectedly. He gave Chadwick a list of a dozen preparations to make and then locked himself in his chamber next door.”

  Jane wrinkled her brow. “What has he been doing in his chamber?”

  “Writing. All he does is write,” Laura said, clearly taken in by the tale she was telling. Clearly oblivious to how much it affected her mistress. “Carson said he eats at his desk in his chamber and he only calls for servants when he needs more paper or supplies like a quill or ink.”

  Jane shut her eyes. Colin had been writing since his return and there were thirteen letters she had sent the man in their time apart. Surely he couldn’t be writing her the same number of responses.

  She sighed. “If he calls you to him again, please tell him I asked him to slip the letters beneath my door. There is no need for him to disturb your other duties.”

  Laura nodded. “As you wish, my lady. Though I don’t mind going between.”

  “I mind,” she muttered. “Now, why don’t you pick out a gown for me. I plan to take a long walk through the estate later.”

  “Of course.”

  Laura stepped away to the wardrobe and Jane let out her breath in one, long shuddering exhale. She stared at the letter in her hands and then turned it over and broke the seal. Just as before, Colin had included her own letter in the pages of his own. Hers had been another message asking him for kindness, pleading with him to come to her or allow her to return to London. As she read the plaintive words, she felt the raw agony once again, like she was transported back in time before she turned to his response.

  Dearest Jane,

  I would have responded to this letter. I may have looked like I had a cold heart in the time we were apart, but I can admit to you and to myself that I thought of you every day. I tried to remain angry with you, to hate you as Arthur wished me to do. But this letter could not have gone unanswered.

  Still, I cannot lie and say that I would have opened myself entirely. My situation with Cassandra changed me, but I was already wary of strong emotion even before I was betrayed in love. My father, you see, punished the expression of my feelings. I learned to hold them inside, to deny them. I once thought that was a strength, but I can see now that it is a failing of the highest order, thanks to you.

  Jane left off reading with a gasp. Colin had never shared any depths like this with her before. He was a proud and proper gentleman. And yet he was inspired to give her a glimpse of his true heart now. To pour it out in paper in an attempt to show her how earnest he was about winning her back.

  She glanced over to find Laura brushing a pretty dark green gown free of lint. She would have a moment’s privacy to finish his missive, and she ducked her head to do so.

  I might have told you that I wasn’t sure if you should come to London, the letter continued. I might have told you that I knew you had betrayed me and that I couldn’t trust you. Of course I would have been wrong, but my God, at least it would have been out then. You could have been given a chance to explain and defend yourself against such bitter lies. I regret that deeply, Jane. And I love you.

  Yours always, Colin

  Colin

  She dropped her head back over her shoulders and let out her breath in a long, heavy sigh. His honesty was appreciated even if it stung her. As did his words of love. What would she have said if she received an answer months ago that claimed she had betrayed him? Would she have asked for clarification of his terrible accusation? Would she have had the strength to go to London over his protests and confront him?

  They would never know. Thanks to Arthur. Thanks to Colin, himself.

  “Are you ready, my lady?” Laura asked, her tone laced with hesitation. Jane took another deep breath and then smiled at her servant.

  Laura came to her and helped her as she dressed. Normally, Jane would have talked more, but today she remained silent as she pondered what Colin had said to her in both his letters. Laura did not push and her toilette was finished in no time.

  “I know you have a great deal to do after our travel,” Jane said. “I will go and take a walk through the estate. I have no idea if Lord Wharton will demand my time, but if he inquires after me, tell him I intend to be back for luncheon.”

  Laura’s worried gaze pierced briefly, but she did not press. “Yes, my lady. I will share that message if he inquires.”

  Jane gave her one more smile that she wished was more comforting than it felt. Then she slipped from the room. She glanced down the hallway toward the door that led to his chamber, but ignored the tug to go there. She still needed time. Still needed to think. She had placed both of Colin’s letters in her pelisse pocket after getting dressed and she pulled them out now, smoothing her thumb along the paper as she slipped through her halls and toward the crisp autumn morning.

  She could only hope the fresh air might give her some clarity. Right now she needed it desperately.

  Chapter Eleven

  Colin stared out the window of his study, watching as the lithe form of his wife moved across the estate grounds, toward the pathways that twisted to the sea. He couldn’t help but smile, even though his chest felt tight when she walked away. She was going to walk on the beach. How he’d loved to do the same as a boy. It was the place where he often thought on his more pressing problems, allowing the sharp air to clear his mind.

  He swept up the spyglass on his desk and glanced through it. Now he had a clearer view of Jane. She wore a pretty green gown, and a lighter green shawl was wrapped around her shoulders. He caught his breath and leaned closer to the window.

  She was holding his letters in her hands. Well, letters of some kind—he had to assume they were the ones he’d written. She was reading as she walked.

  He set the spyglass aside and went to his desk. Papers were strewn across it. Not the normal day to day accountings of his fortune or his political aspirations. No, they were notes for his letters to her. He still had so many to write.

  He picked up the next in the series that Jane had written and smiled. It was the sixth missive she’d sent. This one was about the lighthouse along the shore. How she sat in the window seat in the middle of the night and watched the flickering light that kept the sailors safe from the rocks.

  He’d done the same so many times. He hoped they’d have a chance to do these things together. To celebrate this beautiful estate, to explore London together, to just spend time making up for all the days he’d wasted on irrational anger.

  He sat at his desk, writing for the next hour, then got up. He’d leave this letter here, add it to his pile of responses up in his chamber in a while. For now, he wanted to take his own walk. He wou
ld avoid the seaside path, let Jane have her privacy, no matter how much he wished to intrude, press, push.

  He smiled and acknowledged the servants as he passed through the halls, then walked out the front door and around the path that led to the woods. Away from the sea. He drew in long breaths of fresh air, trying to clear his mind, though it was an impossible endeavor. He’d been out close to half an hour when he made a turn and came to a halt.

  There, sitting on the tree stump, was Jane. She looked up at the same moment he noticed her and jumped to her feet.

  “My lord,” she said, her hands shaking as she shoved his letters behind her back, like she didn’t trust that he wouldn’t comment on them, force her to do the same despite his promises. He had earned that, of course. Now he had to show her she was wrong through his actions.

  “I’m sorry, Jane. I did not mean to intrude upon your privacy. I meant to allow you that as long as you needed it.”

  She worried her lip for a moment, and he couldn’t help but look at her mouth. Remember how it tasted. How it felt on his.

  “You knew I was out walking?” she asked.

  “I did. Your maid told me this morning and I saw you from my study window not long ago. I thought you had headed to the beach, though, so I believed I would not disturb you if I took my exercise in the woods.”

  She nodded. “I intended a walk along the beach, yes. But when I started down the dune path, the wind was too high.”

  “Ah,” he said. “Say no more. The breezes can be fierce on the water this time of year, even when it feels still above. I shall leave you to your place here.”

  He turned to go, though he ached at the idea of leaving her, but her soft voice kept him from walking away. “I am not ready to discuss our…situation,” she said.

  He forced himself to turn slowly. “I would not dream of asking you to advance whatever timetable you need, Jane. That is why I will not trouble you.”

  “We could walk back up together,” she suggested. “If the topic of your letters, of our separation, will not be one that requires pressing.”

  He stared at her, with her wide blue eyes and her soft lips. The woman he loved. Truly, deeply. She was offering him a connection, despite her misgivings. He would be a fool not to take it. To take anything she was willing to give and hold on to it with both hands.

  “I would be very happy to walk with you,” he said softly, and stepped forward to offer her a hand.

  She blushed as she placed his letters into her pocket and then took the hand he held out. He tucked it into the crook of his elbow, and together they turned back toward the house. For the first few moments, he let the silence hang between them. It was not entirely uncomfortable, to walk with her and not chatter on, though she glanced at him from the corner of her eye more than once.

  At last she said, “You have a fine property, Colin.”

  He nodded as they crested the hill and the castle rose up before them, gray and craggy and mysterious. “I loved it here as a boy. I imagined a thousand ghosts running through the halls, found a dozen hidden places to explore.”

  She smiled. “It is hard to picture you as a child, my lord. You are such a…a man.”

  He laughed. “When you say it like that, it does not sound like a compliment.”

  Her smile broadened. “I only mean you are so very serious.”

  “I am that,” he said with a sigh. “I took on a great deal of responsibility at a young age. I had to behave in a way that was seen as ‘right’ or feel the consequences. I put away the ghost stories and hidden passages a long time ago.” He glanced at her. “I admit, I…miss that. Miss being carefree.”

  She turned toward him as they entered the garden maze with the house looming up above them. “You could always be carefree when you chose to be. No one has to be serious at all times.”

  He could not help himself. Slowly, he reached out a hand and traced her cheek with his fingertips. She tensed, but didn’t pull away and he saw her pupils dilate with pleasure, with desire, with even more. It gave him hope.

  “Perhaps one day you can help me better remember that.”

  She swallowed hard. “Perhaps,” she said.

  That one word, said so softly, almost so that it didn’t carry on the breeze, had so much power. Enough to nearly knock him off his feet because it held in it all the promise that there could be a future. That there could be forgiveness.

  That there could be a marriage to this remarkable woman.

  “I will take that,” he said, stepping back. “Thank you for the walk, Jane. If you…if you need me, I will be here. Waiting.”

  She nodded slowly and then turned toward the house, leaving him to watch her as she stepped up the stairs and onto the veranda. Just before she disappeared from view, she stopped and looked back at him. Her blue gaze held his, and then she slipped away.

  Leaving him to hope, to pray, that the future was closer than ever.

  Jane nodded at Laura as the maid gathered up the gown she had been wearing that day and folded it over her arm. “Will that be all, my lady?”

  Jane nodded. “Yes, thank you. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Laura bobbed out a curtsey, then stepped from the room, leaving Jane alone. Alone as she had been most of the day. Her walk with Colin aside, she had not seen him otherwise. She had eaten alone, read in the parlor alone, walked the halls alone. Like her husband wasn’t haunting these halls like the ghosts he had described imagining as a child.

  She smiled at the thought of a young Colin, playing here. Wished she had known him then, before whatever harshness and responsibility that had been laid upon his shoulders had changed him.

  Laura had drawn her covers back, and Jane threw herself onto the bed without pulling them up. She flopped an arm over her face, trying to calm her wild mind before she allowed sleep to come.

  “Ha,” she muttered. “As if sleep will come easily before this situation with Colin is fully resolved.”

  She had no idea how long she lay there, her spinning mind reminding her of every word he’d written, of every kindness he had insured for her while they were under this roof together. Thinking of London and the way he had touched her there, physically and emotionally.

  She knew she loved him. That had been true for a long time, and the depth of her feelings meant she couldn’t just forget it. Or him. But was she a fool for love if she let him in after what had passed between them?

  “Is love enough?” she whispered, the words hanging in the air like a crack of a whip.

  There was a sound at the door that connected their chambers, and she sat up. A letter now rested on the floor close to her door, which meant Colin had slipped it under. Was he still standing there?

  She stood and walked over, crouching down to take the letter and peeking at the space beneath the door. The light from the other room looked unimpeded. It seemed he had walked away after delivering the missive. Aside from their chance meeting in the woods today, he was serious about not forcing his presence on her physically.

  Just his words.

  She broke the seal and drew a deep breath before she read over her letter to him from so long ago. Her hand had shaken less as she wrote this one. And yes, it contained continued pleas for him to respond, but this was where she had shifted her approach. It had been so very lonely in Applegate. She was liked by the tenants and the staff, she knew that. But they all saw her as lady of the manor. None could be counted as friends.

  In her quiet, in her loneliness, she had decided she would write to Colin and tell him about her life. Partly she had hoped it would soften him to her. Partly it was to share something with someone other than her sister, who wrote back regularly, but mostly to protest her being sent away.

  So she had written this letter and told him about the state of his estate, the kindness of those who served him, and one funny story about their minister, who had not noticed that he was wearing two different shoes when he got up to th
e pulpit the Sunday before she wrote.

  Dearest Jane,

  You don’t know how this glimpse into the life you led while we were apart made me smile. I would not have been able to keep myself from doing the same had I read it when it was meant to be delivered to me months ago. After all, Reverend Lancaster has been serving the Applegate community since I was in short pants, and I recall his forgetfulness. I hope to one day tell you stories of pranks we played on the poor man and what a good sport he was.

  I would have written to you by this point, Jane. I would have begun to open my heart and questioned whether or not the lies I believed were true. I must hope I wouldn’t have been so cruel in the face of your sweetness, your light. God, I hope I would not have been.

  That you love Applegate means the world to me, you know. I adored coming here as a child. I have a hundred stories to tell you and a dozen hidden gems to show you if I ever earn the privilege. I cannot wait to read more about your time here, despite all my regrets.

  All my love,

  Colin

  Jane felt a tear slide down her cheek and wiped it away with the back of her hand. It was funny that this was the letter he had written to her, considering their encounter earlier that day. Those moments in his company had shown her how they could explore this place they both loved together. To merge their experiences, share them while they laughed. Perhaps create some new ones together. That future felt so real, so powerful that she could almost grasp it in her hands.

  She crossed to her bed and climbed up, setting the third letter beside the first two. She stared at them, lined up in order, then picked up the first and read it, followed by the second, followed by the third. With every word, with every swirl of his hand, with every moment that passed, her resolve against him weakened.

  “Could you not grasp your future in your hands?” she asked out loud, letting the words hang around her. “Could you not find a way to face this, not alone in this room, but with him at your side?”