“We can manage just fine without her. I’d be happy to keep house for you.”
“I don’t want you working yourself into exhaustion.” Fred felt beholden to his wife and didn’t want her tiring herself out on his behalf.
Jane shrugged. “It doesn’t seem to me that you’ll be too much trouble. If you couldn’t stay away from your office on your first day home, I have a feeling you aren’t likely to be home much. And cooking for two isn’t much work at all.”
“Very well, then you can start in the morning. For now, let’s go get ourselves fed at the alehouse, and then we can stop and pick up whatever you think we might need. I’m fairly certain Mrs. Baker has things delivered, but she probably had that cancelled while we were going to be away for an uncertain length of time.”
“Did you think it was going to take you a long time to collect me?” Jane’s question was accompanied by laughter, so Fred didn’t think she was upset about it.
He shrugged. “I really didn’t know what I would encounter out West, to be honest. Perhaps you would have been reluctant to leave. Perhaps the travel would have been more complicated than expected. Perhaps I would have loved it out there and wouldn’t have wanted to return. There was really no way to know how long I’d be.”
Jane nodded as though she understood. But then Fred added one more perhaps. “It was even possible I wouldn’t make it back alive. Accidents happen so very easily while travelling.”
Her loud gasp was satisfying until her eyes filled with tears. Fred shook his head at his own foolishness. “I’m so sorry, Jane, I shouldn’t have said that.” But he was too late. He had thought his wife was firm and steady, but here she was, dissolved into a fit of sobbing.
Standing there feeling helpless, Fred wasn’t certain what he should do. They were standing in the open space between the four bedrooms. He dropped the baggage he was still holding and pulled his wife’s trembling form into his arms. She made a sound of protest but didn’t pull away. Fred rather suspected she were protesting her own breakdown and his witness of it rather than his offer of comfort.
Of course, he felt dreadful for making her cry, but holding her in his arms was the most comfortable sensation he had felt in ages, perhaps ever. His heart thudded as he thought about the fact that this lovely young woman was his wife. She would remain by his side, and they would build a life together.
He pulled his thoughts back to the matter at hand. He wasn’t quite sure why his wife was so beside herself. He hadn’t actually been serious about harm coming to him or to them or whatever she seemed to be so concerned about. And clearly, it hadn’t happened anyway, even if he had thought it might. They were both hale and hearty and perfectly fine. He might even consider train travel again in the future.
She was trying to speak in between her sobs, but Fred was having difficulty making out what exactly she was saying. From the sounds of it, her upset might have more to do with Sybil than with his silly remark about dying. Fred had thought Jane had said her visit with his sister had gone well but obviously, it hadn’t if she was this upset. Finally, after another moment, she managed to get herself back under control. He produced a handkerchief from one of his pockets, which elicited a watery chuckle from the lovely package in his arms.
“That was unexpected,” Fred said.
She answered with another chuckle. This one seemed a little more real.
“I think perhaps you are just beside yourself with hunger and exhaustion. Might that be the case?” He couldn’t see her face, but he felt her nod as her hair brushed his chin. His heart lurched again as he felt how perfectly she fit with him.
“Come along then. Let’s get ourselves fed, and everything will seem much more right with the world.”
“Thank you, Alastair. I’m sorry for turning into a watering pot on you. I’ll just run and wash my face, and then I’ll be ready to go.”
“Take all the time you need.”
~~~
Jane ran down to the kitchen where she knew for sure there was a source of water. She felt like a ninny. How foolish to manage to hold herself together for days on end only to fall apart at one misspoken word. If she didn’t watch out, she would be divulging every last secret she possessed, and then she would find herself out on the streets for her trouble.
Making quick work of cleaning up, Jane hurried back up the stairs to find her husband waiting for her by the front door.
“All better now?”
Jane almost snorted over his question but managed to keep that contained, offering him a smile in the hopes that he would take that for a yes. Because it was certainly not all better. It was much, much worse. She was in love with her husband. And she was keeping secrets from him. Big ones. Ones that could end their relationship before it had even really begun. And that was just the most foolish mistake she had yet made in her mistake-riddled life. A sigh was struggling to come up from the depths of her soul, but she managed to swallow it down.
She would do her very best not to allow her husband to read her thoughts, and she prayed she would have herself well under control by the morning. Maybe Alastair was right and it was just hunger and a lack of sleep making her so very melancholy. But she feared it was more than that. Her secrets were pushing at her conscience. She wasn’t sure she would be able to contain them much longer.
It was a short walk around the corner to the eating house. Jane had never been to one before and was thrilled at the thought of eating something prepared by strangers.
It would seem Alastair found her fascination amusing. “Have you truly never been to an eating house or a restaurant?”
Jane knew her face was flushing but what could she say? “No, never. The closest I’ve come was the food on the train.”
“Well, I guess that is very similar, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but it is necessary on the train. Here it seems all the more luxurious because you aren’t obliged to come. Do you know what I mean? We have a kitchen, and I’m perfectly fit. We weren’t obliged to come to the eating house. It is a luxury. And I intend to enjoy every last drop of it.”
Alastair laughed again. “Well, I hope it actually suits your tastes. I eat here regularly, and it’s just simple food.”
Jane laughed, too. “I always enjoy any meal I haven’t had to prepare myself.”
“You’re still so young to have been responsible for so long.” Alastair’s observation made Jane squirm in her seat and quickly change the subject.
“Might I ask why you come here regularly? I thought you said Mrs. Baker cooks for you.”
“Oh, she does, but like I said, I’ve only been having her a few days each week. She will start working for us every day, now that you’re here.”
Jane’s flush deepened. “That isn’t necessary, Alastair. Surely, I can manage a few chores and meals.”
She couldn’t interpret the expression that flitted across his face as he assured her, “I owe it to you, my dear. And as you said, we might have a family for you to look after before too very long. I would rather you enjoy yourself in the meantime.”
Jane still wasn’t convinced she would know what to do with herself without a job to go to or friends to spend time with, but she wasn’t about to argue the topic. Thankfully, at that moment their food was delivered and they were too busy partaking to continue the conversation.
“You were definitely correct, Alastair. I was famished and didn’t even realize.”
“Was the food all right?” He sounded anxious, which Jane found endearing.
“It was perfect, thank you. I fear you are being far too kind to me.”
Alastair laughed. “That’s hardly possible.”
Jane climbed the stairs ahead of her husband, intent upon her own thoughts and feelings. She felt a desperate need to bare her secrets to Alastair.
Fred was just about to follow his wife up the few stairs to his front door when he heard himself being hailed from a distance.
“Fred, wait, don’t go in there.”
Turning, he was surprised to see Sybil dashing toward him, her hair and coat flowing behind her.
“What happened to you? What are you doing out so late?”
“I couldn’t allow you to spend even one more night with that viper you have brought back into our lives.”
Fred felt his face falling in shock and dismay over his sister’s words.
“I beg your pardon? What has gotten into you? Are you unwell? You aren’t speaking about my wife in this manner, are you?”
“I most certainly am, and you’re going to agree with me when I tell you what I know.”
Fred stared at Sybil before glancing up at his door. What should he do? He couldn’t stand on the street debating the merits of his marital choice. “Come inside and explain yourself, Sybil. We can’t stay here making a scene.”
Indecision pressed upon Sybil’s features before they hardened into determination. “Very well, Fred, I’d like to tell that woman exactly what I think of her.”
“Now Sybil, do try to be reasonable for a moment. Don’t forget how very much we owe her.”
Sybil sniffed. “If not for her, I wouldn’t have needed any assistance.”
Fred opened his mouth to answer but shut it with a snap. He didn’t know what she was talking about, but he didn’t want to air any grievances on the street for any nosy neighbors to consider. His sister was excitable at the best of times, but now she seemed truly beside herself. He didn’t bother making any further comment, merely ushered her up the stairs and into the house.
Jane obviously hadn’t heard the exchange, as she was standing at the base of the stairs with an expectant air of inquiry. Fred couldn’t prevent the increase of his heart rate and the warmth that flooded him at seeing her warm smile despite his sister’s strange behavior.
“Welcome home,” she greeted in a somewhat shy tone before looking past him with a slightly puzzled expression. “Welcome back, Sybil, I didn’t think to see you again this evening.”
“You probably hoped to never see me again, didn’t you? Did you think we wouldn’t find out about your perfidy?”
Fred was shocked to see all color drain from his wife’s face, and the guilt that was written on her features surprised him even further. It would seem Jane had some idea of what his sister was raving about.
“Shall we adjourn to the sitting room and discuss this like civilized people?” Fred suggested with a calm he didn’t quite feel.
“I do not wish to speak with her,” Sybil fairly spat the words. “And she isn’t civilized.”
“Sybil,” Fred began with a warning tone. “Jane is my wife, and this is her home. I would ask that you speak in a respectful manner.”
“That woman doesn’t deserve my respect, Fred. And you will agree with me when I tell you what I know.”
Jane said nothing, merely sinking down to sit upon the stair she had been standing on. Fred transferred his worried gaze between her and his sister, torn between wondering who he ought to turn to first. Since Sybil was the one making noise, she drew his attention.
“I finally remembered why her face looked so familiar, Fred. She used to work for Horace’s mother.”
Fred blinked, glancing at Jane in surprise. “You worked for Mrs. Trenton?”
She nodded slightly.
“It was she who started the rumors about me that led to my marriage with Horace.”
“I’m afraid I still don’t understand.”
“If not for her, my marriage with Horace most likely would never have happened.” Sybil’s voice was high and shrill, making Fred worry for her, but he turned to Jane for some sort of explanation or denial. His wife merely gazed back at him with bleak eyes.
“That is enough, Sybil. I would ask that you await me in the vestibule. You ought to return home. I will escort you, but I need to speak with Jane a moment.”
“Don’t let her turn your head, Fred. She’s a viper, I’m telling you.”
“That’s enough, I said. Await me in the vestibule.”
Fred didn’t wait for further argument from her. He was gentle as he grasped Jane’s arm, but he felt her flinch anyway. Turmoil nearly engulfed him as he towed his wife into the sitting room to afford them a degree of privacy. He would have to see to his sister, but he owed his wife the courtesy of hearing her out first.
“She’s not lying to you. Your sister’s dreadful marriage is my fault. I did used to work for Mrs. Trenton.”
“How did you come to be in service for the Trentons?” Fred’s disbelief was palpable.
“A couple months after my mother died, my father told me I needed to help the family. He had found me a position with a household as a kitchen helper.”
“But weren’t you a small child when your mother died?” It was as though Alastair couldn’t keep up with her story.
“Yes, but that didn’t preclude me finding a position.”
“No, of course not, but why did everyone suddenly have to work?”
“It wasn’t everyone. My brothers and sister stayed in school. I’m fairly certain my father continued to work, at least for a time, but he took to drinking too much after Mother died, and her family cast us off.”
“Why would your mother’s family cast you off?”
“Remember, I was a child, so I didn’t understand any of it at the time. But from what I understand now, they never approved of my mother’s choice in marrying my father. For some reason, they blamed him for her death. She died in childbirth along with the little boy she was birthing. So I suppose in a roundabout way you could say it was my father’s fault, but that wasn’t really fair to any of us. Not that we were their responsibility, of course, but I think they must have paid some of the household expenses while Mother was alive, and they stopped doing so afterward. Or perhaps they owned the house we lived in. I never did find out the truth about that, but suddenly we were in very poor surroundings.”
She paused, taking a shaky breath before continuing.
“As an adult, I can see that continuing in school must have been a challenge for my brothers and sister with such a drastic change in their circumstances, but I was heartbroken to not be able to continue my schooling.”
“I still don’t understand why you, as the youngest child, were the one expected to help support the family. And what does all of this have to do with Sybil and Horace?”
Jane’s face flamed with embarrassment. Alastair’s tone was kind, as though he were trying to understand, but she knew he would be angry once she managed to get to the point.
“Phoebe always wanted to fit in with her friends. This got worse for her after our circumstances changed so much. She loved to gossip. She would tell tales about anyone and everyone.”
As Jane was talking, she didn’t want to look at Alastair, but she couldn’t prevent herself from watching for his reaction. His understanding was slowly dawning.
“It was Phoebe who spread the tales about Sybil that made her marry Horace?”
Jane nodded. “I only found out about it afterward. I didn’t really know Horace, and I had never met Sybil, but I had one day each week to visit my family, and I must have said something about them that Phoebe misconstrued and spread around.”
“Forcing my sister into her disastrous marriage,” Alastair concluded for her, his tone cooling as he watched her.
Jane had cried so hard before they went out to eat, she didn’t have any tears left. She was filled with despair as she watched the happy life she had almost grasped slipping away. Alastair got to his feet and paced away from her.
“Of all the women in all the world, how could I end up married to the only one responsible for setting my sister into such an unhappy life? I’ve always thought it was my fault. But all along it was yours. I know it is really Phoebe’s fault, but if not for you, she wouldn’t have had the ammunition to use against Sybil.”
As he talked he seemed to get more and more angry. Jane cringed as he approached her.
“I can barely look at you right now.” His
voice was so cold. “And I’m sure to say more than I ought to. I need to see my sister home. I will stay with her tonight. We’ll figure out what to do with ourselves tomorrow.”
Jane couldn’t even speak. She didn’t blame him. She could barely stand herself, so she couldn’t expect him to understand how desperately she wanted her family’s approval. It hadn’t only been Phoebe who would do anything to fit in. Jane had worked her fingers to the bone to provide for her family, but it had never seemed to be enough. She had never meant any harm to anyone, but the only time Phoebe seemed to enjoy her company was when Jane was telling her about the people she worked for. Jane was horrified when she had eventually realized how Phoebe had used the information.
If Jane had ever considered that Ella would marry her off to the one man in all the world she didn’t want to marry, she never would have signed the proxy papers. But Ella hadn’t even mentioned Alastair’s name. And Jane hadn’t suspected Alastair Fredericksburg could ever possibly be in the business of matchmaking.
When she heard the front door slam, Jane stared toward it for a long moment. This was not at all how she had expected the first night in her new home to turn out. As it happened, it was also probably going to be the last night.
She had been longing for a solid bed that had no movement, but she hadn’t expected to be trying to sleep as the only person in a big, empty house. Jane had thought she had no tears left to shed, but she was proven wrong as she cried herself to sleep.
Chapter Twelve
After a fitful night, Fred stared down at the street from his sister’s sitting room.
“What are you going to do, Fred?” He was glad to hear that his sister sounded far less hysterical than she had the night before.
“I need to go home, Sybil. I shouldn’t have left her behind like that. I’m dreadfully sorry for everything that has happened over the past five years, but I have a responsibility toward her now. You aren’t my only concern anymore.”
“Are you abandoning me?” Fred was grateful to hear there was actually a touch of humor in her tone as she asked.
“Don’t ask such a daft question, Sybil. I’ve only abandoned you once, and you know I’ve vowed never to repeat that mistake.”
A Bride for Alastair Page 10
