‘How did she misread seeing you torture her kitten?’
‘Torture? An exaggeration, my dear chap, I assure you. That is the trouble with females, is it not? They are prone to leap to conclusions, allowing their emotions to colour the facts before their eyes.’
Anthony put down his glass, leaned back in his chair, and steepled his fingers, propping his chin on them. The pose brought Father to mind—how many times had he seen both his father and Dominic adopt a similar pose? Nausea again churned his stomach. Would he feel like this every time his father was brought to mind?
Again, that scandalous idea crept into his thoughts. He thrust it aside, concentrating on what Anthony was saying.
‘I bitterly regret what happened, my dear chap, but you must believe I had no intention of hurting the little creature. It startled me, leaping upon me from above as I browsed the bookshelves. Those claws are needle-sharp, and they dug straight into my scalp. I didn’t know what attacked me—I swiped it away by reflex, and that was what Jane saw. She would not listen to reason, and so I beat my retreat.’
Alex recalled the spot of blood on Jane’s gown...proof indeed of the sharpness of Mist’s claws.
Anthony leaned forward. ‘Surely you can see how that might be misinterpreted? Ladies’ sensibilities are so easily upset, are they not?’
Alex did see how a misunderstanding might arise, but Jane was no fool and she was no delicate flower, prone to fits of the vapours. But, whatever the truth, the result was that Anthony was leaving for London and Alex did blame Jane for that.
‘Indeed,’ he said. ‘But there is no need to leave on Jane’s account, Anthony. I shall talk to her...explain it was a misunderstanding.’
‘She has banned me from your house, dear boy.’ Anthony’s brows rose, and his eyes widened. ‘I had so hoped to put to rest all those past disagreements with your branch of the family. I fear there is little hope now. Your lady wife will no doubt confide in the other Beauchamp ladies and, once your father gets to hear of it...’ He sighed. ‘He is an implacable enemy, Alexander. You will not have seen that side of him, but I have. Too often. What your poor, dear mother endured...but... There. I have said too much. Your family loyalty must of course be with your father.’
Tears burned behind Alex’s eyes. He held his breath, desperately clamping down on all the emotion threatening to erupt.
‘My dear boy! What have I said?’
Anthony’s sympathetic tone was his undoing and, once the words began, he could no more stop the flow than he could stop the sun rising every morning.
* * *
Alex rode home two hours later, his spirits lighter after letting out all his pain and confusion. And Anthony was the perfect person to talk to—his loyalties never tested because there had never been any love lost between him and Alex’s father. He had sworn on his life never to reveal what Alex told him, not to anyone, and Alex had no choice but to believe him for, by the time his brain had caught up with the torrent of his confession, the worst had been said and it was far too late to unsay it.
But nothing he said had persuaded Anthony to change his plans. He was leaving for London that afternoon.
Alex left his horse at the stables and headed for the house under a sky turned pewter by massing storm clouds. His pace faltered, despite the icy raindrops that spattered him. What to say to Jane? What explanation could he offer? His immediate crisis had passed...he was better able to control his feelings now he’d had his chance to vent...but he knew his wife. She would not let this go. She would want to know... He could hear her in his head.
What happened? Why did you run off? Where have you been?
Tension seized him again. He couldn’t tell her. How would she ever face his family again? In time, he could face them although he would never willingly meet his father again. Ever. But Jane would never be able to keep her expression free of such dreadful knowledge.
He met Jane in the hall, at the foot of the stairs, her eyes puffy and pink. She stiffened when she saw him.
‘You’ve come home, then?’
‘As you see.’
‘Alex...’ She put her hand on his sleeve. ‘I’ve been worried. Are you all right?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ His voice sounded raw to his ears. ‘I’m sorry I stormed off.’
‘No. I am sorry for plaguing you to talk to me. But...you can trust me, you know. I wouldn’t think you less of a man for talking of your feelings as a child, if that makes sense?’
Her brown eyes were open and honest, warm and caring. She still harboured the hope he would share more of himself...his past...with her, as he’d known she would.
He stretched his lips in a smile. ‘I know I can trust you, but there is nothing to tell. I spoke to Anthony, by the way, and you need worry no further. He leaves for London this afternoon.’
* * *
Jane stared at Alex. He’d gone to Lascelles? Run from her as though she were the devil incarnate, and gone straight to that evil...? She sucked in a deep breath, desperate to calm herself. The last thing she wanted was another argument but...could she really keep biting her tongue? Was this how she wanted to live her life? She’d had no choice while she was growing up. She did have a choice now.
‘You said you had work to attend to.’
Alex scowled. ‘I did it for you, Janey. You wanted me to tell him never to darken our doorstep again. That is what I did.’
She scanned his pale face; the shadows beneath his eyes; the deep grooves from nose to mouth. He appeared to have aged ten years since yesterday.
‘Alex...please...’
He snatched his arm away. ‘I’ve told you. There is nothing more so please stop nagging me. I cannot tell you what doesn’t exist.’
Her hands clenched into fists. Infuriating man!
‘Very well. I am going to consult with Mrs Godfrey about dinner.’
She pivoted on her heel and stalked down the hall to the kitchen, not trusting herself to say another word.
* * *
Early the next morning, Jane lay awake next to a still-sleeping Alex. He’d been restless, crying out several times in the night, but had not woken. Jane had soothed him each time, longing to shake him awake and demand to know what was troubling him, but she’d resisted, telling herself he needed his sleep. Telling herself she’d talk to him in the morning. But now that morning was here she realised that to badger him again would simply result in the same reaction. And an idea had come to her in the night.
She would agree to not spending Christmas at Cheriton Abbey but—in the hope Alex might confide in Dominic—she would try to persuade Alex to go to Clystfield Court. Today if possible, for hail had clattered against the window in the night and it was noticeably colder. If it should snow, they would be going nowhere.
If that failed, she had no idea what to do next, but she was close to the end of her tether. Was it really asking too much to be allowed to help him?
She waited until they were at breakfast before broaching the subject.
‘Alex. Please may we discuss going to Clystfield Court?’
His expression darkened as he put down his knife and fork. ‘We discussed it yesterday. You know my decision.’
‘I understand you don’t wish to go to the Abbey, but could we not visit Dominic and Liberty? It will only mean two weeks away, including the travelling...surely we—’
Alex leapt to his feet, thumping the table with his fist, making the crockery rattle. ‘No! Stop harassing me. I won’t go. Let that be the end of it.’
‘But I wish to go, Alex.’
‘Then go, if it’s so important to you. Go with my blessing. I’ll even order the carriage for you.’
She stared at him, horrified at his implacable expression. He had called her bluff, knowing she would not go without him. But she couldn’t give in. Not yet.
‘Mayhap I shall.’
Jane drank her coffee, holding his gaze.
Alex shrugged, and picked up his cutlery. Jane’s cup rattled as she placed it in its saucer and she silently cursed her trembling hand. She wanted to sink her head in her hands so she could order her thoughts, but she refused to reveal her devastation. Her mouth was as dry as a desert, but she picked up her toast and bit into it, chewing as best she could while Alex continued to eat his bacon and eggs. An awkward silence ensued, until they were interrupted by Kent, bearing a note. Alex opened it, and Jane, perplexed, watched utter relief suffuse his expression.
‘Who is it from?’
Alex looked up. ‘Anthony.’
‘What does he say?’
‘He didn’t leave yesterday after all.’
And Alex’s relief not only made sense but it tore at her heart. What was going on? Why was Lascelles so essential to Alex?
Alex thrust back his chair. ‘I have business to attend to, and then I’m going out. I shall see you later.’
No words of endearment, no teasing smile, just a stern-faced near-stranger who banged the door behind him. When he went out, would it be to see Lascelles?
Tears bubbled close to the surface.
If only I hadn’t nagged him about Clystfield. If he does visit Lascelles, I have no one to blame but myself!
But it was not long before she realised she was doing what she always did—blaming herself when it was Alex who was being unreasonable, laying down the law without explanation. After a short while, she gathered herself together and rose from the table, determined not to allow the matter to rest there. Alfred, their new footman, was in the hall, waiting to clear the breakfast dishes.
‘Did you see where His Lordship went, Alfred?’
‘No, milady. But he did speak to Mrs Kent...’ he pointed to where the housekeeper was talking to Sally on the stairs ‘...so she might know.’
The housekeeper looked around at her name.
‘Mrs Kent, do you happen to know where His Lordship is, please?’
‘He’s gone out, my lady. I presumed to the stables. He asked me to put a letter in his business room, and then told me he’s dining out tonight and not to expect him back till late.’
Jane’s heart plummeted. He’d gone already? And he intended to dine out, without even informing her?
‘Thank you.’
She marched to the business room. The letter must have been the one from Lascelles, and she wanted to know exactly what that scoundrel had written.
She found the letter straight away and read it with an increasing sense of disbelief.
I am persuaded you need me more than ever, dear Alexander. You convinced me it is my duty as your friend to remain, at least until I can be of no further comfort in your hour of need.
Come to Halsdon whenever you wish. Stay here as long as you need to. Come tonight to dine! We shall put the world to rights over a bottle of that claret you enjoy so much.
Your loyal friend and confidant,
Anthony Lascelles
Confidant!
Fury raged through her as she stalked from the business room, swung her cloak around her shoulders and strode down to the stables, driven by the urge to follow Alex and challenge him. Except...she knew his stubbornness. Knew the more she reasoned with him, or badgered him...whatever tactic she might try to bring him to his senses...he would resist her.
And wasn’t that exactly why he had gone to Lascelles now? Her nagging had driven him from her. Her anger seeped away and her shoulders slumped. What was she to do? Going along with whatever Alex decreed might satisfy him, but what if that made her unhappy? Yet standing up for herself merely widened the rift between them. If only he would listen—she was worn out with trying to get through to him.
She spent time petting Pearl, feeding her with slices of carrot she found in the feed store, at a loss to know what else to do with herself. Frost was gone, so Alex had definitely left Foxbourne. If he’d already gone to Halsdon, he would be all day and evening with that evil so-and-so, even though she’d told him what he’d done to Mist.
She wandered outside, one slice of carrot left, which she’d saved for Nelson who no longer attacked the men now he was turned out in a small paddock with an open-sided shelter rather than confined in a stall.
Jane tried everything to coax the horse to her, but he merely stared at her from the far fence. She let herself in the gate and approached him slowly, the carrot on her outstretched palm, but paused about ten feet from the horse, sensing he was about to run off.
‘You are as difficult and prickly as your master,’ she muttered, before walking back to the gate in defeat.
As she reached for the latch, she felt something stir her hair. She stilled, holding her breath. Then whiskers tickled her cheek, and a quiet snort confirmed Nelson had followed her. Remembering how Alex had handled the stallion, she didn’t look at him.
‘Good boy...you want to be friends, don’t you, but you can’t quite trust me yet.’
She put the carrot on her palm and held it in front of her. Nelson stretched his head over her shoulder, and whiffled at the carrot, before taking it gently between his lips. The crunch in her ear was loud, and pleasure filled her as she stroked his velvety nose. She let herself out of the gate before she faced Nelson. He moved away, but she didn’t mind. He’d trusted her, and she felt a huge sense of achievement.
She shivered. The wind had picked up, sneaking around corners in eddies, and fingering its way through gaps in buildings and clothing alike, so she started back to the house, following the line of the fence. Nelson, still in the paddock, kept pace with her. Of a sudden, Jane halted, a blinding truth whirling through her brain.
All this time trying to persuade Alex to trust her and all she had succeeded in doing was to drive him away, straight to Lascelles. That was why he had gone this morning. Not because he desperately wanted to see Lascelles, but because he felt cornered. By her.
She shivered again, huddling in her cloak, wondering what to do. Kent had been muttering about winter setting in early and, if he was right, the weather would soon deny them any choice in the matter of travelling down to Devon.
It seemed unlikely they would go. Not now. Unless...
Jane headed back to the stables, where earlier she had heard the murmur of the grooms’ voices from the tack room. Silence fell when she entered, and the three occupants stopped polishing tack and stood.
‘Lilley, might I have a word, please?’
He followed Jane outside.
‘Did His Lordship order the carriage to be prepared?’
‘No, milady.’
She’d known his words were bravado. He never thought for one minute she would go without him.
Well, we shall see what you make of this, Lord Alexander Beauchamp.
Jane sighed theatrically, for Lilley’s benefit. ‘I knew he would forget! Have it ready at noon, if you please. I am going down to Lord Avon’s estate. His Lordship will follow on later.’
Doubt chased disapproval across Lilley’s craggy features. ‘You’re travelling alone, milady? I’m not—’
‘It is all arranged, Lilley. Peg and Alfred will accompany me, so you need not fear for either propriety or for my safety.’
‘Very good, milady.’
Jane headed back to the house, new purpose in her step. She didn’t want to be apart from Alex, especially when he was so very troubled, but maybe the shock of her leaving would bring him to his senses. It was a gamble, but he had told her go. He had given her his blessing, so he couldn’t accuse her of leaving him or disobeying him.
But would he follow her?
That was the gamble. But, even if he didn’t, at least it would remind him she would not stay meekly at home, waiting for him to decide when—or if—he could trust his own wife.
Chapter Twenty
It was midnight whe
n Alex returned to Foxbourne Manor. The wind had settled into a steady, biting blast from the east, and ragged clouds blew hurriedly across the moon, bathing the landscape alternately in a ghostly glow and a blanket of purple shadows. He really shouldn’t have stayed at Halsdon all this time, but every time he had made a move to leave, Anthony had lured him into just one more drink...one more game of billiards...one more hand of cards.
One more story about his mother. His parents. The past.
He should have been stronger. More resolute. Jane would be... His stomach stirred uneasily as he recalled their last conversation. He had slammed out of the house. Again. And it had been easier to stay in the warm and put off facing his wife who would be, quite rightly, angry. And hurt.
He would make it up to her. Somehow.
He shivered as he slid from Frost’s back and led him to his stall. Pat, one of the grooms, emerged from the tack room at the end of the row of stalls, yawning and rubbing his eyes, prodding Alex into an apology.
‘Sorry to keep you up, Pat. I can see to Frost. You get off to bed.’
‘No, milord. I’ll do it. Mr Lilley left me in charge, so he did.’
‘Well, you must catch up with your sleep in the morning.’ Alex handed Frost’s reins to Pat. ‘If Lilley complains you’re late tell him it was an order from me.’
Pat grinned. ‘Thank you, milord, but I meant he left me in charge until he gets back. He thought you’d want him to drive milady to Devonshire himself, to protect her. Him and Nobby have both gone, sir, and taken the blunderbuss with them, too.’
Alex stilled. Then pivoted slowly to face the groom, his mind whirring as he worked out what conversation they were having. Surely...his brain dredged up that last conversation with Jane.
‘But I wish to go.’
‘Then go, if it’s so important to you. Go with my blessing.’
And she’d done it! She’d taken him at his word and gone to Dominic’s without a thought for him, and that he might need her. How could she do that to him?
Christmas with His Wallflower Wife Page 19