by Jen YatesNZ
‘Thank you, Fran. You’re so sensible and I’m anything but at the moment. That sounds like an excellent plan.’
Chapter 3
An hour later Windermere’s very staunch and upright butler, Melton, welcomed Jassie into the vaulted entry hall at the Abbey. Bowing low, he accepted her gloves and pelisse, arranging them carefully on the ancient and monstrous oak hall stand, which Jassie privately thought had stood in that exact spot since the place had been inhabited by monks back in medieval times. The Abbey and everything within it was as familiar to her as Brantleigh Manor. Usually she stopped to admire the ancient piece of furniture, stroke the time-blackened wood and wonder at all it had seen. Today she scarcely registered its presence.
‘I would like to offer my congratulations on your betrothal to His Lordship, Miss Jassinda. It is the best news heard within these walls for many a day.’
‘Thank you, Melton,’ she managed to respond, forcing her mouth to curve in a smile she hoped would convey the delight Melton would be expecting her to show. ‘Is Her Ladyship receiving?’
A hint of a grave smile softened the butler’s rigid features and he inclined his head towards the sunny parlor where the Countess could usually be found when downstairs.
‘I believe she’s been expecting you ever since Lord Windermere told her your news this morning.’
‘Oh! Then I’d best not keep her waiting any longer. I’ll see myself in, Melton.’
‘Very well, Miss Jassinda.’
He bowed and disappeared through a side door.
Jassie hurried down the east passage from the Great Hall and knocked briefly on the parlor door before entering.
‘Jassie! At last!’
Her Ladyship’s voice, the strongest thing about her, rang across the sunny room with such delight Jassie came to a momentary halt just inside the door. Her heart was pounding, her mind racing with panic. All she wanted to do as she came to the woman who’d been the only true mother she’d ever had, was burst into tears and have those well-loved arms hold her, soothe her, and that strong, no-nonsense voice tell her all would be well. But how could she give in to her misery in the face of such intense joy as shone across the room at her from eyes, which today, were as blazing blue as her son’s?
It had been so long since Rogan’s mother had had anything to smile about, much less fill her being with such pure joy that she came swiftly and easily to her feet with her arms outstretched.
‘You see! I am renewed. Come here, child.’
And Jassie went. Come here, child, three words from childhood that Lady O had made their special bond. She put her own arms around the thin shoulders and clung tightly, reveling in the warmth and love of the older woman’s embrace. Unable to utter a word, Jassie gently eased the Countess back into the comfortable support of the cushioned wing chair and dropped to kneel at her feet, burying her face in the soft rug Jensen immediately replaced over the frail knees.
But it was hopeless. Jassie could no longer stem the tears that had been lying in wait ever since she’d received Windermere’s note at luncheon. She scarcely registered the soft closing of the door as Jensen left them alone, so deeply aware was she of the loving warmth emanating from the fragile hand that caressed the back of her head.
At last Jassie sat back inelegantly on her bottom on the carpet, crossed her legs under her skirts and tried to wipe the tears from her face with her hands. Something as mundane as putting a handkerchief in her pocket had not figured in her things to do today. A small square of linen dangled before her and she took it gratefully, wiping at her eyes and blowing her nose.
‘Am I the only one who is happy about this betrothal, Jassie?’
All the fire had gone out of her Ladyship’s voice and it was inclined to quaver.
But even to make this special lady happy, Jassie could not lie.
‘P-possibly,’ she whispered, head bowed with the weight of her misery.
The silence eventually forced her to look up to see the Countess with her head leaning back against the chair and her eyes closed tight, as if in pain.
Jassie leapt to her knees again and took the motionless, blue-veined hands in hers.
‘Lady O! Are you all right?’
‘I am, Jassie,’ she murmured, neither moving her head nor opening her eyes, though her hands gripped Jassie’s with a surprising strength. ‘I’ve been waiting so long for this day. I told myself it would be a day of such—blessedness—when it came. It is hard to let go of the dream and face the reality. When Rogan left me this morning—he looked like he was going to his own hanging. Now you come—and appear to be in no better case. You are what he needs. Your love could heal what ails him, if only he would let it.—Jassie,’ she said with sudden urgency in her voice and finally opening her eyes, ‘do you know what ails my son?’
Jassie worried that Lady Windermere didn’t seem to have the energy left to lift her head from the chair back, as if the supreme, joy-driven effort of standing to embrace her future daughter-in-law had used up her store of animation for the moment. But her gaze was steady, imploring, and Jassie hated that even in this she could not offer relief.
Helplessly she shook her head.
After a moment of consideration, the Countess said, ‘It was while he was at Oxford. The second year, I think. He changed—quite terribly—between one visit home and the next. But no matter what angle I took, I could never get him to talk about it. Eventually he lost patience with me and said—said there was absolutely nothing wrong and that if I didn’t stop questioning him about it he simply would not come home again. My heart broke for him that day and I’ve never figured out how to repair it. He used to be so open and sharing. We talked of everything. You know yourself that I’ll not turn away from any subject my children need to discuss with me. But since that day he’s shared nothing with me that didn’t concern my needs or the running of Windermere.
‘I was hoping that maybe he shared more with you. I took comfort in the fact he could never wait to seek you out when he came home, hoped that at least with you he shared the inner workings of his heart. For you love him, sweetheart, do you not? You’ve never tried to hide that from him. He has to know and I thought, even though he is so hard to read these days, that he loved you too. I have clung to the belief you would be his salvation from whatever bitterness stalks his soul.’
Jassie sniffled and blew her nose again.
Suddenly, Lady Windermere lifted her head and sat upright, fixing Jassie with her intense blue gaze.
‘What do you think, Jass? What do you think may be wrong? You must have some thoughts on the matter.’
Jassie closed her eyes, savored a deep breath and clenched her hands in her lap, the piece of linen a sodden ball between her palms. The Countess had never spoken more true. There was nothing Jassie could not discuss with her and in this she knew herself deeply blessed. But what if her surmises only added to a mother’s deep pain? As the question formed, the answer came hard on its heels. What deeper pain could there be than knowing a child suffered yet not understand the cause or how one might begin to ease that suffering?
‘I think—after yesterday—I finally have an inkling.’
‘Will you share it with me?’
‘I think—I should just tell you what happened. It was all my doing and maybe you won’t think so well of me when I’ve told it. But I have to believe you know more of the—of what goes on between men and women than I do and perhaps you can make sense of it.’ Jassie fell silent, twisting the wet hanky in her fingers. ‘I don’t know where to start,’ she mumbled at last.
‘The beginning’s always a good place,’ Lady Windermere observed with a wry smile that reminded Jassie so much of Rogan that her heart skipped in her chest.
She forced a small smile in response, then said, ‘I guess that would really be at my sixteenth birthday. I was so determined to have my first kiss that night and that it would be from Rogan. I’ve never wanted to kiss any other man. I tricked him into following me out o
nto the terrace and once out of direct sight of the French doors I—grabbed his jacket lapels and demanded he give me my first kiss. A birthday boon, I called it. I didn’t wait for him to decide in his stuffy way that it was inappropriate or some such fustian. I just reached right in and kissed him!’
The memory, as vivid as ever, filled her mind. The surprise of the warmth and firm yet soft texture of his lips; the subtle scent of citrus and spice and—man; the painful belt of her heart against her chest as his tongue caressed her lips and invaded her mouth the moment she opened for him; the knowledge, as sure now as it had been then, that he felt what she did; the grip of his fingers on her skull; the pressure of his lower body against hers and the sensation that she was about to discover the whole meaning of life. Nor would she ever forget the bereaved feeling when he pulled back, released her and stared at her as if he’d lost his senses and simply couldn’t believe it. Then he’d delivered the words that had crushed her heart and sealed her doom to spinsterhood.
‘What did he do?’ the Countess prompted.
Jassie blinked and looked up at her, momentarily disoriented. She sighed.
‘He kissed me back. For just a moment I believed all my naive girlish dreams were about to become reality. Then he let me go as if—as if I’d burned him and he became so stern, so—remote and then—he looked right into my eyes and said, ‘That behavior with any other man could get you into trouble, Jassinda. Promise me you’ll never do such a thing again!’ I was so angry! I never even wanted to do it with another man! And then—then he said, ‘Don’t set your sights on me to become your knight in shining armor. I’m not husband material and I shall never marry. There are better men out there for you, Jassinda Carlisle.’ He stormed off to the end of the terrace, down the steps into the darkness and disappeared round the end of the house. I didn’t see him again that night—nor for a long time afterward.’
‘So that’s why you suddenly developed a sick headache and abandoned your own party! I thought you must have drunk a little more wine than you were supposed to!’
Jassie nodded miserably.
‘When you were sixteen Rogan would have been twenty-seven. I can understand he might have thought himself too old for you but—why would he vow not to marry?’ the Countess murmured thoughtfully. ‘Whatever the trauma, it happened before that. Rather confirms my belief it was while he was at Oxford. Something sexual, I’m thinking now. Could I be right, Jassie?’
Jerked out of her thoughts, she looked up at the older woman and felt the flood of color burning in her cheeks.
‘What haven’t you told me, sweetheart?’
‘About yesterday. It’s much worse. I’m almost certain you will not even want me for a daughter-in-law when I tell you about yesterday!’
A loud chuckle escaped the Lady Windermere’s thin lips, startling Jassie.
‘Good heavens, child, there is nothing, absolutely nothing you could admit to that would cause that.—I was young once. I’ve felt the burn of desire, the bitterness of rejection. Windermere, Rogan’s father, was not an easy catch, you know! But I was determined to have him. Like you, I wanted no one else! And in the end it was worth it. Marriage was as wonderful as I’d dreamed it would be. I was very happy with my Jonathan.’ A dreamy smile lit the blue eyes and for a moment Jassie felt as if she looked into a star-filled summer night and had no trouble at all picturing the Countess as a beautiful young woman in the flush of youthful love. ‘So tell me about yesterday. I can easily determine it had to be something quite scandalous to pin Rogan to his honor.’
‘I’m twenty-five!’ Jassie wailed suddenly. ‘How long was I supposed to wait? Until we are both old and wrinkled and past caring! I wanted to know! I so longed to know—just once—,’ she stammered then covered her burning face with her hands.
‘So you seduced him?’
‘Oh God,’ Jassie sighed, dragging her hands down her face. ‘Not really. I said—pretty much what I’ve just said to you. We were on Neave Tor. It’s where we always go to discuss important things. He—he just stared at me as if my words had turned him to stone. His eyes went this terrible silvery color and—I don’t know what was going through his head but definitely rejection, anger, maybe even fear or horror. It was so awful I just dived at Chester and tried to mount at the run and of course he jumped sideways. I might have managed it even then but my weight pulled the saddle down. I was sliding under Chester’s belly and I panicked and leapt for the ground and—Rogan caught me and we fell together and rolled several times. When we stopped he was beneath me, yelling and—swearing. I think I went a little crazy because finally I was exactly where I’d wanted to be and he—he—well, he couldn’t disguise that he wanted it too.
‘Then—we both went a little crazy and I—we—oh! I can’t say it! Suffice it to say nothing could have stopped us at that point but somewhere along the way he changed. He wasn’t the Rogan I knew. He became—I don’t know—kind of maddened, like I was someone who must be punished. When—after—he was so angry. I’ve never seen him like that, never want to again either. He—hit the ground with his fist. I’m inclined to think he would have liked to hit me! Then he asked me to forgive him and there was more—like he was trying to make it up to me. He said we should never have done what we did. That it was more or less—rape—and that now I should have some idea of why he’d avoided marriage all these years.
‘When I asked what he meant, he said he was rough and lacking in consideration, or caring and that—a lady shouldn’t be subjected to such—such bestiality. He vowed it wouldn’t happen again!—Then he insisted that we marry, that he wouldn’t let me leave Neave Tor until I agreed. He looked so fierce, so remote, untouchable and a little frightening. It wasn’t what I’d been asking for. I didn’t want to trap him into marriage. I knew his feelings about that, after all!’
Suddenly she was scrambling to her knees and wrapping her arms around the Countess and sobbing. ‘I deserve to burn in hell for being so wicked but—dear God—I love him so much—’
There were long moments when her sobs were the only sounds in the room and the stroking of the Countess’s hands in her hair her deepest comfort. Then at last Jassie plopped back to the floor and sat in a dejected heap.
‘Now he has ridden off to London and according to the note he sent this morning he won’t be back till the day of the wedding, which he has organized with the vicar for Saturday 20th. I get to organize everything else. How can I organize a wedding when I know it’s the last thing he wants?’
‘Easily, sweetheart,’ the Countess said bracingly. ‘You have Jensen and I and your lovely Francine to help you and it will be perfect. We’ll accept nothing less.—And I’ll send for Augusta and Sheri. Would you like that?’
Jassie nodded. Even though there was only five years difference in their age, Lady Augusta Parmenter was Lady Windermere’s aunt as well as her closest friend and she’d willingly sponsored Jassie’s third and fourth seasons in London, along with her own daughter, Lady Sherida Dearing. Already friends, the two young women had become even closer. With Sheri and Fran to help, she would manage somehow.
‘This is the best outcome, Jassie. Trust me. This way, you’ll be able to work on Windermere without trying to preserve your good name and propriety and all that nonsense. In marriage you have all the advantage. You’re a woman—and he is only a man, at the mercy of his deepest instinct to mate. I have to say I’m greatly relieved by what you’ve told me for I’d even wondered if his problem was that he preferred men to women. But I don’t believe that’s it. Thank goodness. So within marriage you’re free to seduce him any way you will. But you must consider that if you entice him into your bed, will it be what you want after all? Do you have any idea of what you’re facing, what darkness festers in Windermere’s soul?’
Jassie spread her hands in surrender.
‘I love him, Lady O. We’ve been the closest of friends all my life. That has to count for something. I believe he loves me, if he’d only let himself ack
nowledge it.—Knowing that you’re here, that you care and understand, that I could talk to you if it all gets too much, is deeply—fortifying,’ she said, finally finding a smile to lift her spirits. ‘Windermere doesn’t know what he’s getting into.’
‘That’s the Sassy Jassie I know!’ the Countess chortled. ‘He used to call you that quite often when you were small. It used to fire you up and he loved to tease you. He said once that it made your eyes sparkle like champagne diamonds. It seems so long ago since he was that carefree young man, a little reckless, a little daring, always laughing and teasing. And so deeply caring. That young man is still in there, Jassie, deeply hidden behind layers of darkness. Your love can find him, bring him out again. I know it can.’
Jassie sat staring up at the Countess, while the words echoed in her mind, restoring the dream that had seemed so crushed and pointless only moments before.
Scrambling to her feet she leant in and kissed the frail, dry cheek.
‘You are an angel. Why could I not come to that understanding for myself? I’m finally going to realize my deepest desire, marriage to Rogan. However it’s come about is immaterial. What it becomes is up to me. I love him enough for both of us and I intend to have the happiest marriage possible. Thank you, Lady O. Now we have a wedding to plan.’
Lady Windermere smiled beatifically and Jassie settled into Jensen’s chair at her side.
‘I think we should start,’ the Countess suggested, ‘by sending for Augusta and Sheri. I think Augusta is feeling quite hipped with you two. For all her efforts on behalf of you both she never got either of you married. She will be delighted about this even though it was nothing she did that brought it about—and for me, because she knows how I’ve worried about Windermere.’
‘I’d be delighted if Sheri can come. She and Fran can be my bridesmaids.’
‘And Augusta could help with the organization. She is so good at that. I’ll write to them immediately and then you’ll see, Jassie, all will simply fall into place for the perfect wedding.’
