“No, please, Mrs. Linden was much more helpful after you intervened the first time. Thank you for that.” She sighed. “I have been thinking about something and I was wondering if I might ask…What did you mean when you said that the Duke likes his women in nice dresses?”
Catherine stopped and turned to face Jane. “Miss Hester wore the nicest dresses, and that pleased Michael. You see, a man enjoys buying a woman he desires nice things, dresses included. It was just a comment about the general ways of men, nothing more.”
Jane worried her lip.
“Did he offer you something more than dresses?” Catherine asked.
“He is a kind man and I do not wish to speak ill of him. However, just this morning he showed me a necklace that belonged to his deceased wife. It held a pendant with blue gems.”
Catherine gave a deep sigh and shook her head slowly. “It is as I feared,” she said, taking Jane’s hands in hers. “Keep in mind that I warned you that this might happen, so please, do as you wish, but be careful.”
“I will,” Jane promised. “And thank you. I have no one in which to confide, and your friendship means much to me.”
“But of course,” Catherine said with a laugh. “If you ever need a shoulder on which to lean or an ear into which to speak, I am here for you.”
Jane felt relieved that she finally had someone to go to if anything happened with Michael. What she had shared with Catherine had already given her a sense of camaraderie that had been lacking in her life since leaving Anne’s tiny cottage, but she still struggled with how to handle her situation with Michael. How could the man offer her jewelry belonging to his former wife? What woman in her right mind would accept such a gift?
Yet, that was where the issue lay—Michael was not in his right mind, was he? No, he was either so disconnected from the real world that he could not see that what he had done was wrong, or he simply did not care. Either situation would be reprehensible, and she wished there were a third option. Unfortunately, the more she tried to find this alternate solution, one would not come to mind.
Frustration raced through Jane. What had begun as a wonderful day had slowly descended into sorrow. Then a peculiar thought struck her. Turning to Catherine, she came to a stop in front of the bank.
“How is it you came to be in town today and then found me so easily?” she asked.
Catherine smiled, but something flickered in her eye that Jane did not like. “His Grace told Robert of your outing today, as well as the dresses he planned to have you order. I must admit that I was curious to see how you would do, and thankfully, I showed up to help you lest you embarrass yourself and the Duke’s good name.”
“Thank you for your honesty,” Jane said, though the barb to the woman’s words stung. Yet, what she had expected was a superficial excuse about how she had also wanted to purchase a new dress, so at least the woman was forthwith and honest. However, something tickled at the back of her mind, something that brought her discomfort.
“Now, come. I believe I know where Michael might be.”
As Jane followed the woman, her footfalls felt as heavy as her heart. She could not shake the feeling that things were not as they should be when it came to Michael. Perhaps she was naive and refused to see the truth, but she could not shake the feeling that maybe there was more to the Duke’s story than she realized.
Regardless, no matter what happened, she needed to take extra care in guarding her heart lest the Duke take it and break it later on.
***
The day had been long, and yet Jane found herself wide awake, sleep eluding her as she thought of the Duke offering her the necklace of blue sapphires that once belonged to his deceased wife. Then her mind turned to his insistence that she purchase new dresses. When she saw the bill that he would receive for her purchases, she thought she would faint, the cost was so high. Perhaps he would faint. She had been too afraid to tell him, and he did not ask, so they had returned to Wellesley Manor, he much too delighted with the progress he had made on the outing to notice how quiet she was.
Samuel, however, took notice of Jane’s state of mind and asked after her.
“I am well,” she had answered to his whispered question. “I believe that today was just too much for me.” Her response seemed to quell his concern, but it did little for her own.
Kicking off the covers, she donned her dressing gown over her nightdress and made her way down to the garden. The house was quiet, all of the servants already abed, likely exhausted from their long day of work. Michael and Samuel would also be fast asleep, dreaming of what each had accomplished during their day in town. Somehow, that thought did nothing for her discomfort, so she pushed it aside and allowed her mind to turn to other things.
Unfortunately, the next topic to spring up was that of Samuel’s former governess. Was it true that the Duke had bought Miss Hester an array of dresses and gowns as a means to get her into his bed? The idea seemed utterly ludicrous, but then why had the woman left a position with a child as wonderful as Samuel? Granted, Jane had to leave Arthur due to the Earl’s misconduct, but she could not imagine Michael to be such a rogue as Lord Clarkson.
She stopped and sat on a bench that allowed her to look up at the night sky, the stars shining brightly with no moon. She heaved a sigh. No matter what was truth and what was a lie, she could not deny the fact that she cared for Michael as deeply as ever, and yet she feared doing so would be her undoing.
Footsteps on the stone path came to her ears, and she turned to see the man in question approach. He was in his shirtsleeves, the front of the shirt unbuttoned halfway to display a muscular chest. His breeches seemed a bit tighter than usual—not that she took all that much notice at such things, of course—and a wave of heat rushed through her body as she thought of him pulling her into his arms.
She went to rise, but he waved her off. “Please, there is no need to stand,” he said in a quiet voice. “I see I am not the only person who is unable to sleep this night. What is troubling you?”
Jane shifted in her seat, not certain how to respond. To mention the dress or the necklace would be much too bold. For the moment, she had no evidence that she should be concerned, although perhaps her own uneasiness should be evidence enough. Instead, she decided to approach the topic of Miss Hester.
“I have been thinking about my lessons for Samuel in the coming week,” she said. “It is a shame I never had the chance to meet his previous governess, Miss Hester I believe was her name?”
“It was.”
“Well, as it is, I have been curious about how she conducted her lessons.”
“I promise you,” he replied with a chuckle, “there would be no need for you to worry about that, for you would end up instructing her.”
Jane laughed. “Is that so?”
“Oh, very much so.” He sat beside her and tilted his head. “Samuel is fortunate to have you.”
This man could do no evil, she thought as she wondered if she could ever be in his presence without blushing. However, this still did not explain why the woman left. Even the greatest of rogues could layer his words with more sweetness than candied fruit. “Thank you for saying so,” she said aloud. “I forget. Why did she leave?”
Michael hesitated for a moment before he replied. “She had told me that her mother had fallen ill, though I wonder if it was true. I believe it was due to the fact that the rumors surrounding me and my household were more than she could bear, so she no longer wished to be associated with them…or me.”
“Rumors?” She wondered which rumors could make a servant leave a position she had kept for more than a year.
He waved his hand in the air as if the gossip was not worth his time. “Oh, most households that employ a multitude of servants must endure such tales, true or not. Apparently, they are true often enough that they are easily believed.” He chuckled again. When she said nothing, he turned to her and took her hand in his. “Jane? Has something upset you? You have grown unnaturally quiet sinc
e our outing today.”
“No,” she lied, though she hated to do so. “I am just tired from all the excitement, I suppose. Although I doubt it compares with how the day was for you.”
He snorted. “It was quite the experience,” he said, and she was glad to have moved the conversation off of her and onto him. “Each moment that passed, I felt my confidence grow. I could not ever imagine feeling so free as I did today.”
He had told her about the things he did and the people he met on the return journey, but regardless, she was glad to hear that same excitement in his voice. “I am glad you faced your fears,” she whispered and meant it. Jane did not wish to see anyone suffer, but this man even more so. “Your strength is something I admire, and I know Samuel does, as well.”
He looked down at the ground and sighed. “My greatest worry is that, as I keep forgetting things, eventually I will forget my son. Or even who I am. Then what will happen? My brother has said he and Catherine would be willing to raise the boy, but I fear…” He allowed his voice to trail off.
Placing her hand atop his, Jane looked into his eyes, darkened by the night. Although the night hid so many flaws around them, she could still see the worry in them, and she now understood why he was unable to sleep.
“You will continue your life as you are now, knowing that I will be with you at your side.” She paused. Something bothered her, but she could not quite put her finger on it. “Although, I must admit I cannot quite consign myself to worrying about your mind as you do.”
“No?”
“No. I believe we all forget things from time to time, such as when I forgot my gloves earlier. Does that mean that I am going mad? Or is it that I am a woman who, at times, forgets things?”
He smiled and gave her a nod. “Even when I feel the world is pushing against me, your words bring me peace. I find myself once again indebted to you.”
Once again he managed to make her blush, and she wondered if he could see the redness of her cheeks in the low light. Then, as if hearing her thoughts, he placed a hand on her cheek, making her breath catch in her throat.
“Your beauty is unparalleled, for you possess a beauty both inside and out.”
“You are too kind,” she whispered, feeling pulled in by his words. “It is nice to receive your praise, but I insist that you give yourself your proper due.”
He moved a thumb across her cheek. “My sweet Jane,” he said in a husky voice that made her heart flutter. “The woman who wears the blue dress who captured my heart. I cannot wait to see your new one.” Then he leaned in, and as their lips met, Catherine’s words echoed in her mind.
“He likes his women in the finest dresses.”
Fear overtook her and she pulled back and quickly stood—a mouse uncertain if the cat had seen her.
Michael’s face was a bundle of confusion. “Jane?” he asked as he stood, as well. “Have I offended you?”
“No,” she said, though her stomach was in knots. Why did he have to say that about the new dresses? Tears stung her eyes as Catherine repeated the words in her mind once again. She somehow felt defiled, her desire for him was so great that his kiss could have led to him to carrying her back to her room, and she would have been powerless to stop him.
“I am afraid that my stomach pains me. I believe I should return to my room and get some rest.” The lie left a sour taste on her tongue, as if her body was punishing her for the fib. Without another word, she turned and hurried back to her room, wondering if accepting the dresses would be the start of her downfall.
Chapter Eighteen
The Duke of Fire had been extinguished by the light that was known as Jane, allowing the man, Michael Blackstone, the Duke of Hayfield, to return. There was no other way to explain what had transpired in his life, for he had been a man drowning in shame and guilt until he met her. Now, for the first time in years, he was able to think and see clearly, his future laid out before him in such an obvious way, it was as if a page from a book had come to life. Yet, there was one thing still missing in his life ahead, and he hoped that Jane would want to be an important part of filling that void.
It had been nearly a week since he had kissed her in his gardens, and although she claimed an ill stomach, her face told another story. What he saw in the dim light was sheer panic, fear, and a mixture of emotions he could not comprehend. During the time since then, she had remained polite, even offering him a smile from time to time, but somehow she seemed distant. The separation, though she had not removed herself from his company, left him in a state of melancholy from which he struggled to emerge.
The ballroom, situated on the western side of the manor, glowed from the last rays of the sun as it sat on the horizon. In just three weeks’ time, the room would be filled with revelers enjoying music and dancing, as well as food and drink. It had been many years since the room had been used for such a function, and despite the unknown issues with Jane, he found himself anticipating that night. Because the house had been used as a country home, he and Elizabeth had planned to have many parties, inviting all of the ton to indulge to their heart’s content, and this room had been set up for just those occasions.
Although the room was not as large as some of those of his counterparts, the carefully placed mirrors gave it the illusion it was much larger than it was. Paneled walls, mirrors that reached from floor to ceiling, and windows alternated around the exterior walls of the room, that is to say, along three walls. The fourth wall held a set of French doors that led back out into the main entryway. Large candelabras sat in each corner of the room as well as in front of several of the mirrors to allow for maximum lighting. A large chandelier hung in the middle of the room below which Michael imagined groups of dancers working the steps of the latest country dances. The room was perfect and he was glad that it would finally be put to use as it was intended.
When he returned to the sitting room, his mind whirling with images of guests enjoying themselves, he looked up and came to halt when his eyes fell on a portrait of Elizabeth that hung above the hearth. However, it was not the painting itself that made him stop short, but rather the fact that the painting now hung upside-down!
Rage bore through him as he hurried over to the sacrilege before him. How dare someone do such a thing to his lovely Elizabeth!
“Your Grace, I have prepared your riding boots as you requested,” Dalton said as he walked into the room. Michael glared at the man. How could he walk into the room and speak as if nothing of consequence had taken place? However, the man had yet to look up from wiping away the last speck of dust from Michael’s boots. “Is there another task you wish that I…” He finally raised his eyes and gasped. “Your painting!” the man exclaimed.
“Did you do this?” Michael demanded with such ferocity that the valet cowered before him, his body shaking.
“Never, Your Grace! I would not dare!”
Michael stalked over to the man and glared down at him. The fear on Dalton’s face was so pronounced that Michael grimaced. Accusing this man was an unreasonable notion. Why would his valet have anything to do with such a travesty? Why would anyone?
“Let Jenkins know what has transpired here. I want every servant questioned, and when I find out who did this, they will find that their services will no longer be required.”
The man, no longer trembling, gave him a deep bow. “As you command, Your Grace,” he said. “I will inform him immediately.” He turned and hurried out of the room as if he expected the Duke to tan his hide if he did not move quickly enough.
Michael sighed heavily and then returned to stand before the fireplace. Who would have done this? Had he upset a servant somehow to the point that they felt the need to torment him? The idea was ludicrous, not only because he had not heard of any grievances within the staff, but also, the idea to turn a painting upside down made no sense. The act was a show of disrespect to Elizabeth more than himself, and there was none who disliked her in any way.
Then a chill ran down his spin
e. Had he, himself, done such a despicable deed during one of his bouts of madness? Had he turned the painting and simply forgotten? Yet, that made no sense. He racked his brain for other instances where he had done something like this. There was the time when his banking book had been moved, and to an unlikely place. Other instances popped into his mind, as well. Vases that had been moved and yet none of the maids admitted to moving them. His quill left in the top drawer of his dresser in his bedroom for no apparent reason. One of his cravats tied to the post of his bed.
Frustration raged through him. He could not remember what color coat he had instructed Dalton to bring to him. Just the other day, he had asked that mutton be served for dinner and Mrs. Curtis had prepared venison with the insistence that he had requested it. None of it made sense, however. His mind was as strong as it had ever been, he was certain, and the weakness that had been associated with the Duke of Fire was now gone. So, why would these episodes continue to happen?
He adjusted the portrait and stepped back to admire it. Elizabeth had been a gentle soul, never once an unkind word for anyone; such disrespect was an atrocity.
“Michael?” came Jane’s voice from the doorway. “You wished to see me?”
At seeing Jane, his rage dissipated as the light that seemed to surround her fell upon him. If it was not for this woman, he would most certainly have taken complete leave of his senses.
Then a thought came to him. Jane had been upset with him over the past week. Had it been she who had gone into the room and turned the painting? Yet, as she smiled up at him, the thought vanished, much like the sun over the horizon. Jane would never do anything so horrendous to hurt him.
“Thank you for coming to see me,” he said as he took her hand and kissed it. “Do you still plan to call on your cousin tomorrow?”
“I would like to,” she replied, “unless I am needed here to be with Samuel?”
“No, please. I insist you go and see her. I will be taking Samuel with me out riding for the day. Mrs. Curtis will pack us a picnic lunch and we will go out exploring.”
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