“My lady, I am so sorry. We did not even see her leave. One of the night nurses found her bedroom empty and the front door open. We have searched the building, but she is gone.”
Maryann gripped the doorframe. “But you know how she becomes afraid during a thunderstorm.”
“I suppose the staff was used to you handling the situation, my lady. We do have quite a few patients, and—”
“Thank you, Mrs. Parkhurst.” Maryann spoke over her shoulder as she started down the steps.
Jonathan followed, attempting to keep the umbrella covering them both. “Maryann, I am sorry.”
She faced him. “And that is why you have shut me out and why Archie is so angry?” she sputtered, pointing her finger. “You—you said we were family.” She held her jaw tightly. “Why did you not ask me?”
“Why did you not tell me?”
She held up a hand, warding off any further words. “I have a sister to find, my lord.” She spun away and marched up the street with Jonathan following.
Maryann peered into the spaces between houses, looking down the alleyways and behind brick walls. Jonathan thought they were not being efficient, staying together, but the night was dark, and he’d not leave his wife alone in darkened pathways. He directed Archie to the houses on the other side of the street.
He tried to imagine where he would hide, and the enormity of the situation became obvious. Jane could have run in either direction, or even through the yards to another street. For all they knew, she was blocks away. If they did not discover her within the next hour, he would convince Maryann to allow him to call the constables. Jane’s reputation as a sane person was not more important than her life.
Though he tried to keep the umbrella over her head as they searched, Maryann seemed determined to avoid his attempts, and by the time she stopped at the corner, both were soaked.
Archie joined them. “Nothing,” he said. “Any leads?”
Jonathan shook his head. He turned to his wife. “Think, Maryann. Even in a delusional state, she is still your sister. What does she like to do? Is there somewhere she might go? A place she feels safe?”
She turned a full circle, looking up each road, then stopped, catching her breath.
Jonathan tried to see what had caught her attention, but saw only the darkened street and the fence surrounding Hyde Park.
“I think I know where she is.” Maryann ran toward the carriage.
Neither Jonathan nor Archie bothered with the umbrellas as they hastened after her.
“Drive to Hyde Park,” she called to the driver. “Cumberland Gate and turn right on the first bisecting path.”
“Jane and I have walked to the park,” she said once they were seated and the carriage started forward. She peered through the window, moving her head as she tried to see through the rain and darkness. They passed through the gate into the park.
Archie tapped his finger on the handle of his umbrella.
Maryann wrung her hands and fidgeted restlessly in her seat as she squinted through the window.
Jonathan himself felt agitation making his nerves tight. If Maryann was mistaken, they would have wasted another half hour. He felt sick when he thought of a frightened woman running through the London streets. He felt a desperation to find her, not only before she caught a chill or injured herself, but before anyone else did. Especially someone who might do her harm.
Maryann leaned forward, her nose practically pressed to the window. “There is a particularly nice walking path with a bench that she—there it is.”
Jonathan banged on the ceiling, and Maryann had the door open before they had even come to a complete stop.
The three jumped out into the rain and hurried in the direction Maryann indicated. Jonathan saw a flash of white near the trees, but before he could react, Archie dashed ahead.
Jonathan grabbed Maryann’s hand and followed, slipping over the wet lawn as they ran. When they reached the cluster of trees, they found Archie crouching beside a hunched figure, speaking in a soft voice.
The young woman’s arms were wrapped around her knees, her feet bare and her eyes wild.
“Do not fear. You are safe now,” Archie said.
She focused her gaze on him and began to weep.
“Jane.” Maryann’s voice was a sob. She pulled away her hand from Jonathan and ran forward, kneeling in the mud and weeping as she pulled her sister into an embrace. “Jane, we found you.”
Jonathan’s chest flooded with relief. He knelt next to his wife, wanting to hold her and tell her she’d never have reason to worry or to weep again. But he knew the rift between them still remained, and he needed to repair it.
With a bit of coaxing, Archie scooped Jane into his arms, and they returned, muddy and soaked, to the carriage.
Archie set Jane inside the carriage, and Maryann moved to follow. She stopped with her foot on the step, lowered it, and turned to Jonathan.
The thunder had ceased, but the rain continued to pour. She pushed a wet clump of hair out of her face. “I think I might enjoy a trip to the park that does not end with both of us soaked in mud.” She glanced at him with a small smile.
Jonathan realized her attempted humor and allusion to the night they met was intended as a peace offering. He thought he could actually feel his heart swelling at the endearing effort. He stepped closer, tapping up her chin. “Yes, well, I think that can be arranged.”
“You came to my rescue again tonight, just as you did then. I knew the moment Dixon told us Jane was missing that you would make it right.”
Jonathan’s stomach did a slow roll. He’d never known anyone to have such utter confidence in him. No force on earth could have prevented him from drawing her close and planting a kiss on her wet lips. “I will always make things right, Maryann. Do not forget it.”
Chapter Eleven
It was nearly dawn when Maryann thanked the doctor in a whisper as he left the room. She brushed the hair from her sleeping sister’s forehead and nodded to Bessie, who was to remain nearby while Jane slept. Maryann glanced around at the lavender walls and thought how happy Jane would be to awaken in such a beautiful room.
They’d settled her sister in Maryann’s own chambers for the short remainder of the night since Mrs. Linville had no chance to make up a guest room.
Jonathan’s insistence during the carriage ride that Jane come home with them instead of returning to the house on Craven Hill made Maryann’s heart flutter and her eyes fill with tears. Her husband was the kindest man she’d known, and the thought that her secret had damaged his trust weighed heavily on her. She needed to apologize.
When she stepped into the hallway, she found Jonathan and Archie leaning against the wall, waiting.
“How is she?” Archie asked.
“She is well. No fever or other effects from the rain. She is changed into dry clothes, and the doctor gave her a draught to help her sleep.”
Jonathan nodded.
Maryann needed to sit down. “Would you two join me for tea in the drawing room?”
Archie yawned, patting the air in front of his mouth. “No tea for me, thank you. Now that the damsel is saved, I’m off to bed.”
“Thank you, Archie,” Maryann said as he walked toward his bedchamber. She took Jonathan’s offered arm and accompanied him to the drawing room.
Once they were seated on the sofa, she felt suddenly shy. She took her time pouring the tea and handed Jonathan a cup. Once she could not put it off any longer, she cleared her throat, but did not have an opportunity to start into her well-thought-out apology before Jonathan took her hand.
“Maryann, I must apologize, but I do not even know where to begin. I feel like I have done everything wrong from the moment we met.” She shook her head and opened her mouth to disagree, but he continued, “I wish I had courted you. I would have visited in your sitting room, danced with you at a ball, taken you to the theater . . .” He touched her cheek. “You deserve to be courted instead of being thrust into a
house of mourning and enduring the spiteful relatives of a man who has no idea how to be a husband.”
His words made her eyes sting. “Jonathan, you are a fine husband. I do not want all those things. I am perfectly happy here with you and your mother and Archie. Especially now that I have my sister close by.”
She settled the teacup in her lap.
Jonathan pushed his fingers through his hair. “I am so very sorry. I know the things I said hurt you; I have no justification for it. I should never have assumed such a thing.”
She couldn’t help the blush that rose on her cheeks. “And I should not have reacted in anger. I was worried for Jane, and your words took me by surprise.” She leaned forward, setting the teacup on the low table.
He set his teacup beside hers, then turned to face her. His gaze dropped to her lips.
Her stomach fluttered as he leaned toward her and kissed her softly. This conversation had not gone at all how she’d planned it, but one by one, Jonathan had banished all of her uncertainties. She twisted toward him, wanting to be closer.
He kissed the very corner of her mouth. “Let us promise to have no more secrets between us.”
“I promise.”
He kissed the other corner. “Except for Christmas gifts.”
“Obviously.” Maryann let out a small laugh.
He drew back and trailed his fingers down the side of her face. He tipped his head, and the warmth in his eyes stole her breath. “As we rode home from Craven Hill last week, Archie informed me of my mistake.”
“What a kind friend,” she said, giving him a wry grin. “And what is your mistake?”
His mouth lifted in a soft smile. “I fell in love with my wife.”
The fluttering inside her grew into a frenzy, and any thoughts of teasing left her head. “You love me?”
“My heart would never have hurt so badly otherwise.”
She pressed her palm to his chest, hoping to show him she’d never hurt it again.
“I suppose I made the same mistake,” she said quietly. “I am in love with you, too.”
He placed his hand over hers and gave her a kiss that curled her toes and elicited a sigh when he drew back.
“Come.” He rose, pulling her up with him. “It has been a long night. You need to go to bed.”
The thought of leaving him to retire to the guest bedroom made her heart sink. “Oh, please, no. I do not want to be alone.”
He tipped his head and gave an impish smile. “Maryann, I never meant you to assume you would go alone.”
Epilogue
Jonathan lifted his wife’s gloved hand in his, not caring who saw the action. Hyde Park was brimming with fashionable people and carriages, and his own curricle was trapped in the middle of the throng.
Typically, he would be bothered by the crush of humanity, but today, he felt cheerful. The Parliamentary session was nearly concluded for the year, and he would be taking his family to Northampton in a few short weeks. With the addition of Jane’s company, and the deficit of his half sisters, his household had a feeling of contentment.
Jane and his mother had developed a loving friendship, and he could see the relief in Maryann as the burden of her sister’s care was shared. Archie even seemed happy to spend quite a lot of time with the ladies. The only occasions his friend appeared the least sorrowful was when the family discussed leaving town. He would be returning after the Season to his own home in Surrey, and the mention of it brought on a case of the doldrums.
Jonathan nodded a greeting to the couple in the carriage next to his, then turned to Maryann, giving her a wink. “Is the park really that much better during the daytime?”
“Of course it is.” She pretended not to know he was speaking in jest. “The flowers are lovely, the lawns green, and we are not both wet and covered in mud.”
“Yes, it is all wonderful, but at this rate, we will not make it home for supper.” He pulled out his pocket watch, checking the time.
“Are you wearing that again?” She nodded to the pocket of his waistcoat where the small ball dangled. “You have quite a lot of other choices, you know.” She smiled, and Jonathan knew his wife was secretly pleased that he wore the lapis lazuli fob on his watch chain.
He pinched the ball beneath his fingers. “I plan to wear it every day of my life.”
“Jonathan, you are teasing.”
“Not at all. This little ornament reminds me of the first time I realized I was in love with you.”
He had the pleasure of seeing her blush. She glanced around, apparently looking to see if any of the other riders were close enough to hear his declaration.
“I naturally realized it much sooner.” She raised her brows and her chin in the manner he’d come to recognize as the one she employed when she felt shy but wished to appear confident.
He leaned closer, brushing his fingers up her bare arm. “Of course you did, darling. You are much wiser than I.”
She shivered, and her blush deepened. Jonathan thought he would never get tired of eliciting such a reaction.
When he reached a side path, he took it, leaving behind the crowd as his small curricle traveled over a bridge and into Kensington Gardens.
He turned down a particularly private pathway and stopped. He twisted toward her, sliding his arm around her shoulders and pulling her against him. “Well, this is a happy spot.”
“You should be careful, or your wheels might become stuck.” Maryann shifted, fitting exactly into his arms and resting her head against his chest.
“Yes, I’ve heard that can be a very real problem,” he murmured. “If that is the case, I might fancy myself a little nap.”
She pulled back to face him directly. “You are in high spirits today.”
“I suppose I am.” He touched the soft skin of her neck, leaning close to kiss her and wishing he did not have to navigate around the blasted brim of her bonnet. Tipping his head, he deepened the kiss until Maryann drew away.
“Jonathan, what if someone sees us?”
“They would force us to marry.” He tipped his head the other way, thinking to find a better angle around the stiff brim, then leaned in again.
She stopped him with a finger to his lips. “And what then?”
“Then I shall find myself the very happiest of men.”
“Truly?” Her wide eyes held his, and he knew he would never tire of the effect her gaze had on his heartbeat.
He traced his finger around her lips. “Who would have thought the very best thing in my life came about because of sticky mud?”
“I do not think that is very romantic.”
“Perhaps not, but it is the truth.” He slid his hand behind her neck and pulled her close. “I utterly adore you, Maryann.”
“And you are the very best husband I could imagine, Jonathan.”
As he kissed her, two thoughts occurred to him. He wondered first of all why Parliament had not addressed the problem of bonnets and outlawed the stiff brims that made kissing one’s wife so difficult; but the notion that struck him more forcefully was with how the very best things in the world came about in ways one could not anticipate. He tucked away the thought to ponder on later as Maryann let out a sigh. He had more pressing matters to attend to.
Click on the covers to visit Jennifer’s Amazon author page:
Jennifer Moore is a passionate reader and writer of all things romance due to the need to balance the rest of her world that includes a perpetually traveling husband and four active sons, who create heaps of laundry that is anything but romantic. She suffers from an unhealthy addiction to 18th- and 19th- century military history and literature. Jennifer has a B.A. in linguistics from the University of Utah and is a Guitar Hero champion. She lives in northern Utah with her family, but most of the time wishes she was on board a frigate during the Age of Sail.
You can learn more about her at http://www.authorjmoore.com
Chapter One
London, 1812
Lady Sophronia Huffi
ngton was in a black mood. In three weeks’ time, Lady Lavinia, her younger sister, was to be married to Lord Gilbert Cartwell, the Duke of Mayfield’s younger brother. That was all well and good, and certainly a very fine thing for Lavinia; however, it was testing Sophronia's civility to its limits. She detested the granite-faced duke. That might not have mattered, except that they were being paired off for several pre-nuptial celebrations, as well as the wedding breakfast.
“I do not see why you dislike him so,” said the lovely Lavinia, winding a chain of fresh daisies through her chestnut curls. “He has always been perfectly pleasant to me.”
“You are not an on-the-shelf spinster who is being thrust upon him at every turn,” Sophronia said. “He has made his feelings crystal clear to me.” Her normally impervious heart had been lanced by the duke’s obvious scorn the first moment they had met. His Grace—a giant of a man over six feet tall and, as far as she could tell, pure muscle—had looked her up and down, murmured the word “charmed” and turned to greet her fashionable aunt and uncle with far more enthusiasm. She had been utterly dismissed. This evening, they were to be partnered for dinner and in the receiving line at the ball Aunt and Uncle Reynolds were holding for the engaged pair.
Lavinia finished with the daisies and turned to her sister, an expression of remorse in her blue eyes. “Oh, dearest, has he been beastly to you? Why did you not tell me?”
Kneeling beside the vanity bench and clasping her sitting sister about the waist, Sophronia cursed herself for having brought an instant of unhappiness to her. This was Lavinia’s time to sparkle and shine. “Never mind, pet. I shall bear it. His opinion is not of the slightest concern to me. What is important is that you and Gilbert are happy together and will not be living in His Grace’s pocket. I can visit you with impunity. He need not be part of our lives after this wedding is over.”
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