by Rose Pearson
Her throat was aching terribly, one hand now pressed gently against her heart. She could barely believe that Lord Halifax was saying such wonderful things to her, still struggling to accept all that he had said as absolute truth. It did not seem possible that someone as plain and as uninteresting as she could truly capture the heart of a viscount.
“You do not believe me, I think,” he said, his brows slowly lowering. “I have been more than ridiculous, Miss Brookes, and I can only stand here and beg you for the chance to prove myself.”
“I – ” Biting her lip, Jane attempted to find the words she needed to explain what was going on in her heart, finding herself immediately putting up bars all around herself, as though she needed protection from him. “I am unused to sharing what I think and feel, Lord Halifax,” she admitted, softly, forcing her protections down. “It is not something I have often done.”
He looked at her steadily, his gaze unrelenting.
Jane swallowed hard, hating that she still struggled to believe everything he was saying to her. “I cannot tell you how glad I am that you were able to speak freely, Lord Halifax,” she said, softly. “But you must understand that this has all come as something of a shock. I did not ever expect to hear that you were no longer courting my sister. In fact, when her letter arrived, I thought it to be a note of your engagement and was steeling myself for such news although I am very glad for my sister, given that she has loved Mr. Putnam for some time.”
“Steeling yourself?” he repeated, moving a fraction closer to her. “Why is that, Miss Brookes?”
Her tongue seemed to twist itself in a knot, rendering her speech quite useless. She could only look up at him, seeing his deep blue eyes filled with a passion that took her breath away. His nearness was overwhelming her senses, her breathing ragged as he reached for her hand, pressing it with his own.
“Am I to understand that my feelings may be returned in some way?” he asked, his breath whispering across her cheek. “Am I to allow myself some sort of hope, Miss Brookes?”
Closing her eyes to steady her composure, Jane drew down her instant determination not to say a word about her own feelings and gave a short, jerky nod.
Lord Halifax said nothing but let her hand go. Her eyes still closed, Jane jumped in surprise as his fingers ran across her cheek. Opening her eyes, she gazed up at him, knowing that if they were to have any future together, she would have to tell him the truth of her own heart.
“Lord Halifax,” she began. “I – ”
“I have ordered tea for us all.”
Lord Halifax was gone from her side in a moment, standing the correct distance away just as Mary walked into the library, having called out to them from the hallway as she approached. Filled with both regret and relief, Jane shot her friend a quick smile, seeing Mary’s twinkling eyes smile back at her.
“Lord Halifax?” Mary asked, seating herself by the fire. “You are back in London until Christmas, yes?”
Lord Halifax smiled and turned towards Mary, letting Jane go to sit by her friend first before taking his seat. “Yes, I intend to stay here for another week or so, before returning to Abbeford Hall for Christmas. After all, I was invited there for a prolonged visit over the Christmas season and my swift departure was, perhaps, a little rude – although quite worthwhile, I confess.”
Jane, who was busy pouring the tea, felt heat rise in her cheeks yet again.
“I intend to return there two days before Christmas Day,” Lord Halifax continued, as Jane finished pouring tea into the three cups. “Perhaps Miss Brookes might wish to accompany me on the ride home, and Mr. Grainger too, if he wishes to return.”
It was a question that she could not yet answer, given all that was swirling through her heart and mind. Managing to smile at Lord Halifax and seeing Mary’s slightly widened eyes as the seconds ticked by without her answering, Jane cleared her throat just a little as she handed him his tea. “I will certainly consider it, Lord Halifax,” she said, as Mary rolled her eyes just out of Lord Halifax’s line of vision. “But yes, I think I should like to return home for Christmas. Particularly if you are to be there.”
Her face burned as she sat back in her chair, her eyes dropping to her lap as the silence was filled with the sound of the wood fire crackling and burning in the grate. She had not intended to be so open with him, to state unequivocally something so intimate, and yet she was glad that she had said it. That was the truth, was it not? She had run to London to escape Lord Halifax but now that he had come in pursuit of her, she could not imagine spending the festive season without him.
“I am glad to hear it,” Lord Halifax murmured, as Mary grinned at Jane delightedly from across the room. “I am looking forward to my returning carriage ride already, Miss Brookes.”
“You must stay for dinner,” Mary interjected, breaking the sudden awkward tension. “I insist upon it. There is to be plum pudding, which is one of my favorite things about this time of year.”
Unable to say anymore – not even about plum pudding - Jane nodded and sipped her tea, leaving Mary to pick up the threads of conversation. She had more than enough to consider for the time being, given all that Lord Halifax had said to her but she had to admit to herself that the thought of returning home with Lord Halifax by her side brought her a good deal of happiness. A happiness that, she hoped, would only continue to grow with each passing day.
Chapter Eight
Having finished his visit with Lady Harrows and Miss Brookes, James walked along the snowy London street feeling as though his heart was about to burst open in song. He had allowed himself to speak freely, had allowed his heart to open wide and reveal the depths of his affections for Miss Jane Brookes, and she had listened to him with nothing more than wide eyed astonishment.
He could hardly take it all in. She had not managed to tell him the depths of her own heart, but the little she had said had revealed the truth of it to him. She had told him that she had been forced to ‘steel herself’ against the news of his engagement to her sister, showing him the depths of her agony when it had come to her sister’s acquaintance with him.
A slight frown crossed his brow. Why had she never said to Katie, her own dear sister, that she had feelings for him? Given that Katie was half in love with Mr. Putnam, why would she then encourage her sister towards James instead of towards Mr. Putnam? It was not as though she had appeared at all surprised with the news of her sister’s chosen suitor, for she had said that she had known her sister had loved Mr. Putnam for a long time. It was all rather strange, and James made a silent note to himself to ask her about it the next time they were able to talk.
Not that he would allow such feelings or thoughts to trouble him now. No, he was happier than he had ever imagined himself to be, quite certain that by the time Christmas came, he would be more than ready to propose to Miss Brookes. He did not think she would refuse him, not when he had seen such evident happiness in her expression when he had invited her to travel back home with him. They had so much to talk about, so much to discuss and to share with one another. He wanted to spend as much time with her as he could, wanted to know almost everything he could about her, feeling as though he had never really had the opportunity to delve into a deep and prolonged conversation with her.
I am unused to sharing what I think and feel, Lord Halifax.
Miss Brookes words came back to him, giving him pause. She was clearly more than open with George Grainger, given the amount of time he had seen them talking and laughing together, but mayhap he was one of the few people Jane Brookes was able to talk to without fear of holding anything back. He wondered why such a thing might be, feeling a trifle jealous that he was unable, as yet, to have the friendship and kinship that he saw between George Grainger and Jane.
“At least he is not to marry her,” he muttered to himself, relieved to know, once and for all, that George Grainger was nothing more than a dear friend to Miss Brookes. The supposed proposal had been nothing more than a throwaway remar
k, meant only to reassure Miss Brookes that she would not live a life of loneliness.
His heart twisted painfully. Had she truly feared that? Had she never enjoyed attentions from a gentleman? Had she never blushed furiously at a compliment directed towards her? He lifted his chin and drew in a long breath. He would ensure that she had more than enough compliments every day of her life, if he could. She deserved every one of them.
Sighing heavily, James forced his thoughts back towards his next, more unpleasant task. Lady Crawford had been less than pleased to see him the first time he had arrived on her doorstep without a single coin in his pocket but at least she had been willing to wait for his return with the promised funds. If he gave her this, then he had to hope that she would not blacken his name for her own purposes. He did not want to ruin his new-found happiness, nor did he want to injure Jane in any way. Lady Crawford, it seemed, held all the cards and he had no other choice but to bend to her will. It was either that or risk losing everything he had just gained.
“That is all I am going to offer you, Lady Crawford.”
James’ voice was hard, his eyes shining like steel as he glared at the lady who had welcomed him into her home, her voice dripping with honey as she had done so.
“I do not expect you to do anything untoward now, not after I have aided you in such a way,” James continued, firmly. “Do we understand each other, Lady Crawford?”
Lady Crawford’s eyes glinted as she lounged in her chair opposite him, giving every appearance of being quite relaxed. “I think, Lord Halifax, that you do not quite understand my present situation.”
“I understand it well enough,” he replied, darkly. He hated himself for doing this, the money sitting on the table mocking his lack of courage and his ongoing fear. “But I will not be played with, Lady Crawford. I am not about to stoop to your demands, simply so that you can continue to manipulate me in order to get what you want. I will never be your protector, I will never come to you in order to seek your favors. This is the last time we shall ever speak, for I will never again give you another penny.”
She leaned forward, her eyes glittering with malice as a cruel smile darkened her lips. “What will you do, then, when I write to the society newspapers and decry your actions to all and sundry?”
“I will defend myself if I have to and wipe them off as nothing more than vicious rumors.” Growing angry with her manipulative ways, he picked up the notes he had brought with him and slowly and carefully began to fold them back up. He was taking a risk in doing such a thing, he knew, but such was his anger that he found himself entirely unwilling to linger in her presence any longer. “In fact, Lady Crawford, I think that I should not have come here again in the first place. I am not afraid of you nor what you will do.” He thought of Miss Brookes, knowing that he would have to go to her almost at once and explain himself to her carefully in the hope that she would believe him. He would take her to the bookshop owner if he had to, to prove that he had not done anything of the sort to Lady Crawford.
“You put those back down!” Lady Crawford screeched, suddenly getting to her feet with a swish of her skirts. “I need that money!”
Slowly, he let his gaze rest on hers, seeing her dark red cheeks, her angry gaze and the way her hands had curled into fists. He could not allow himself to be manipulated so. If he gave Lady Crawford this money, then he was only proving to her that he was easily manipulated. No doubt, as she had already threatened, she would come to him seeking yet more funds when this money ran out. How long would that endure? Would she do so when he was engaged? Would she do so when he was wed? When he had children of his own? If he gave in to her now, then she would always have power over him, keeping him weak and afraid.
“No, Lady Crawford,” he stated, coldly, feeling strength rise within him. “I have seen you for who you are, and I will not allow your deceit to linger on me. You shall have nothing from me.” Shaking his head, he glared at her, even though some of his anger was directed towards himself for being foolish enough to even consider her demands in the first place. “I trust that the lady I care for knows me well enough to believe what I have to tell her,” he said, walking towards the door. “I will not have any of this, Lady Crawford. I will not be blackmailed, threatened and coerced. You shall not have a single penny of my money, not when I have done nothing wrong. No, it was foolish of me indeed to come here.” Pulling the door open, he inclined his head towards her, scorn rippling across his expression. “Good day, Lady Crawford. I do not think we shall meet again.”
Lady Crawford’s indignant shriek rang out as he closed the door behind him, hurrying towards the front door. He did not want to linger for another moment, suddenly desperate to rush back to Lady Harrows’ house and tell Miss Brookes everything that had occurred. He was quite sure that Lady Crawford would do as she had threatened, as both a way to get the comeuppance and as a way to seek new gentlemen who might be more willing than he to give her what she wanted. He did not know how long he had until the first rumors would begin to swirl around London, but the sooner he spoke to Miss Brookes, the better.
“Lord Halifax?”
James stopped dead at the bottom of the stone steps, coming face to face with George Grainger.
“This is Lady Crawford’s home,” George Grainger said slowly, his eyes dark with anger as he took a step closer to James. “What are you doing here, Halifax? You need not pretend that, in the festive spirit, you are giving to those less fortunate than yourself, for I will not believe it!”
“Grainger,” James said, holding up his hands in defense. “You need not think the worst. I have had an issue with Lady Crawford, and I am now on my way to talk to Miss Brookes about it all.”
George Grainger shook his head, his expression mutinous. “You will not go near Jane, not after this,” he muttered, taking a step closer to James, his threat clear. “She deserves better than the likes of you.”
“Please,” James begged, his desperation growing with every minute. “This is not what you think, Grainger. Truly. Let me explain and then –”
He did not see the fist coming towards him but felt the pain ripple across his cheek. The next thing he knew, he was lying face down on the ground, the damp and cold soaking through his clothes.
“You will leave Jane alone,” George Grainger hissed. “Or it will be all the worse for you.”
Then, without a word, George Grainger turned around and left, leaving James to try and right himself, just as a warm stream of blood began to pour from his nose.
Everything was slowly beginning to go wrong.
Chapter Nine
Jane drew in an excited breath, her stomach swirling with anticipation. “Do you think he is here yet?” she asked, as she looped her arm through Mary’s and walked into the beautifully decorated drawing room, which looked quite ready for Christmas Day. The smell of spices, oranges, and herbs wafted across the room, making Jane sigh with pleasure. All about the room, she could see garlands of rosemary, bay, and laurel, with even a few apples and oranges decorated with ribbons and holly berries. It was, all in all, quite wonderful. All she required now was Lord Halifax’s presence. Mary laughed, shaking her head. “I do not know if he is present as yet, my dear, given that we have only just arrived at Lord and Lady Fraser’s soiree.” She squeezed her friend’s arm. “Although I am glad that you have found such happiness.”
“Thank you,” Jane whispered, feeling as though she were walking on air. “I can hardly believe it myself.” Her smile faded just a little as she thought about how difficult it had been for her to express herself towards Lord Halifax. “I just wish that I had been able to tell him the truth of my own heart,” she finished, as Mary picked up two glasses of champagne from a footman’s silver tray.
Handing one to Jane, Mary gave her a quick smile. “It will come with time, my dear. You have never been one to talk openly about your thoughts or feelings and whilst that is not in any way wrong or unfair, it is something that I know will require a good de
al more time before it comes easily to you. Although you will have to make an effort to be truthful with him.”
Nodding, Jane let her gaze linger on the other guests, waiting anxiously for Lord Halifax. “I have not told him just how desperately I love him,” she whispered, half to herself. “I do not think that I will be able to find the words to express it, given that I am all of a fluster simply saying those very words aloud to you!” She shook her head, a little frustrated with herself. “He said so very much to me, Mary. He even said that he had not been able to forget me since last year when we were first introduced.”
Mary lifted one eyebrow. “Is that so?” she murmured, her expression warm.
“I can hardly accept that from him, given that I am so very plain and quite unexciting,” Jane replied, honestly. “But I think I must try.”
“Of course you must,” Mary stated, firmly, her eyes a little angry. “As I know George and I have told you, you need to stop believing all that your mother has said to you, Jane. I know she overlooked you and favored Katie, but that does not mean she was right to do so. I – oh!”
Startled by Mary’s sudden exclamation, Jane turned around to see none other than Lord Halifax coming towards her, although walking beside him was George Grainger, who appeared to be quite irate. Lord Halifax’s jaw was clenched, his eyes fixed on Jane whilst George was hissing something under his breath.
“Lord Halifax,” Jane murmured, throwing a confused glance at George. “Good evening.”
“Lord Halifax is not to converse with you, Jane,” George stated, firmly. “Lord Halifax, I have already – ”
