by Georgie Lee
This wasn’t at all how she’d expected marriage to be.
* * *
Jasper slouched in the chair with a view of the window. He stared at the brightening sky and the single star visible over the building across the way. He needed sleep, but he didn’t go upstairs. Jane had left him an hour ago and other than the clank of a poker echoing through the chimney, he hadn’t heard anything from the floor above since. If she was asleep, he could slip in beside her and rest. If she was awake, he wasn’t sure he could endure another spat. If she did rail at him, then he deserved it. She’d come down to find him because she cared and he’d shoved her away, as careless of her feelings as Uncle Patrick had been of Mrs Robillard’s plight. He hadn’t meant to be short with her, but during the day it was easy to be close to Jane, to laugh and tease with her. Not even her tender touch could drive back the ghosts at night.
He tapped the arm of the leather chair. The charade required to maintain his life was starting to crack around the edges and he wondered how much longer he could hold it together before something slipped and he revealed more than he was willing to explain. The effort of having to conceal his troubles, to sneak past her and then add more lies to the ones he already maintained when caught made it more difficult to control. He needed space to wrestle his past into submission and there was only one way to achieve it. She wouldn’t like it, but it must be done if he hoped to find a way to defeat his demons and be the kind of husband Jane deserved.
Chapter Eleven
Jane climbed the stairs to their room in search of Jasper, her feet dragging with her exhaustion. It had taken ages to fall asleep after the row with him this morning. When she had, it’d been a light sleep only. Near sunrise he’d climbed in beside her, careful not to touch her. She’d pretended to be asleep to avoid another argument, but she’d remained wide awake, sure he did, too. Around six, when he’d at last fallen into a deep sleep, she’d risen, unable to lie there any longer.
She’d gone downstairs and thrown herself into business for the club before paying a visit to the furniture maker to arrange for the sale of the remaining things in the warehouse and to purchase more sedate items for the private conversation rooms. She was back home now and there was no more avoiding him today, not when she needed to discuss the transfer of goods from the warehouse to the furniture maker. Jasper had granted her a free hand to make contracts or buy and sell items, but some matters still required his assistance.
The sight in their bedroom stopped her short.
Mrs Hodgkin and the scullery maid were carrying Jasper’s things out of their room and into the adjoining one.
Fear slammed into her chest. He doesn’t want to be with me any more.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked the housekeeper, hating the way her voice shook.
Mrs Hodgkin stopped, surprised by the question. ‘Setting his things in the other room as Mr Charton requested.’
‘But this is his room.’
‘I thought you’d be more comfortable if you had this one to yourself.’ Jasper’s voice carried from behind Jane. Mrs Hodgkin and the scullery maid slipped away to finish their task as Jane faced her husband. ‘I don’t want to disturb you as I come and go at night, nor can I be disturbed when I’m sleeping in the mornings.’
He made it seem as if it was for her benefit when in reality it was for his. She refused to allow it to stand. ‘And you thought to inform the servants before you told me?’
‘You’ve been gone for some time,’ he stated as if it was reason enough to take action behind her back. It made her wonder what else he was doing and not telling her about, like the letter and the woman who’d written it.
‘And you were so eager to be out of my room you couldn’t wait?’ She might not have wanted to hurt him at the auction, but she wouldn’t mind doing so now. All she could see was her having to face Philip, her friends, all of the Fleet while they sneered at her for not having been able to keep a husband. ‘How long until you decide to leave this house as well?’
He had the nerve to balk at the question. ‘Never.’
‘Then am I to go?’
He hesitated before answering in a measured voice, ‘Jane, this changes nothing between us except where I sleep. Most married couples don’t share a room and it will only be until I give up the hell and return to normal hours.’
‘And when will that be? Have you spoken to Mr Bronson about it, made any arrangement, or were you too busy packing up your things to see to your own affairs?’
He pressed his lips tightly together and she knew she was right. It terrified her because it meant she might be right about his leaving, too. It was the man from the sitting room this morning appearing again. It frightened her as much as seeing his things piled on the bed in the adjoining room.
‘This isn’t right, Jasper, and you know it, and nothing you say will convince me otherwise.’
His face softened, as if he sensed his decision had hurt her and he wanted to soothe the sting. He slipped his arm around her waist and tried to pull her close. ‘Having separate rooms doesn’t mean you’ll always be sleeping alone.’
She went stiff in his arms, waiting for him to apologise to her and explain what had happened last night at the hell and promise her things between them would be fine again, but he didn’t. Instead he brushed her cheek and temple with his lips.
The stubborn woman inside her wanted to push him away, but the one who craved his affection made her languid in his arms. Maybe this was his way of apologising and making things right between them, the way last night had been his means of seeking comfort. He made a trail of kisses across her cheek and down to her jaw and caressed the hollow of her neck with his tongue.
She tilted back her head and closed her eyes, savouring the sweep of moisture and the sweet tickle of his breath. She forgot all of her arguments for or against the plan as he began to undo the small laces at the back of her dress. It wasn’t an attempt to keep them apart. He wanted her—it was apparent in the quickness of his breath in her ear and the eagerness of his fingers against her skin. She was his wife and this arrangement wouldn’t be for ever.
Then she turned her head and noticed his things laid out on the bed in the adjoining room. It was no coincidence Jasper had thought of this arrangement after she’d confronted him and refused to leave him be. With his kisses he was trying to pretend everything from this morning hadn’t happened and all was resolved between them, but it wasn’t.
She wrested out of his embrace. ‘Don’t try to placate me. The next time you attempt to make love to me, be sure it’s because you want me, not because you want your way.’
She stormed out of the room and down the hall, refusing to be humoured like a child or made to come or go according to his whims. She’d hold out on him until he finally told her something or decided he wanted separate rooms to become separate lives.
She came to a halt at the top of the stairs, all her early morning worries rushing back to her. I should march in there and confront him, refuse to allow whatever it is he is trying to do, but her usual stubbornness failed her and she didn’t move. She was wary of what else he might do if she did insist on them sharing a room. She didn’t want to make demands, drive him away, or lose the warmth of his touch or the joy of his company. Maybe I was too fast to anger and walk out. If she’d held him tighter, been more complacent instead of haranguing, she wondered if she might have changed his mind.
She went downstairs to the sitting room and began to pace, confused and lost about what to do. His embrace last night before their fight, and their time at the club, had contradicted everything he was saying and doing today, but he was withdrawing from her and she must stop it, even if she didn’t know how. She wished there was someone she could speak with, but if she dared broach the subject with one of Jasper’s sisters, the story would spread through the family like a fire and prob
ably jump to the Rathbone household. Heaven knew what Philip would say. It eliminated Laura as a confidant, too, especially since Laura and Philip had no secrets between them. Though he kept his business separate from his family, he was at home in his office during the day, taking as much interest in Laura’s life as she did in his. She could speak with Mrs Fairley, but the modiste was in Salisbury visiting her sister and not expected back for another week.
For all the change in her situation and surname, she might as well be a spinster again.
She stared at the bookshelf across the room, noting how her old novels mingled effortlessly with the ones Jasper had inherited from his uncle. If only she knew how to make her and Jasper’s hearts and lives fit together so neatly. She could balance ledgers and negotiate contracts but she couldn’t win her husband’s love or his confidence.
Then one green-leather spine with gold-embossed letters caught her notice. She slipped it out from among the others.
Glenarvon.
She smiled as she traced the shiny title. It had been one of the first books Mrs Hale had secreted for her years ago. The two of them had read it, sneaking off to the garden to discuss the scandalous tome away from Philip’s hearing and his disapproval.
Mrs Hale!
She clutched the book to her chest. Speaking to Mrs Hale would mean breaking her promise to Jasper but she had to do it. He was already going back on his vow to honour her and this wasn’t how she wanted to live. She needed advice and help and she was sure Mrs Hale would keep her secret. Heaven knew she’d kept some before, even colluding with Jane to create a few. With this being Mrs Hale’s second marriage, she must know something about husbands.
* * *
‘He’s running an illegal gambling hell at night,’ Jane blurted out to Mrs Hale as they sat together in the small morning room of Dr Hale’s house. Through the wall she heard Dr Hale speaking with a patient, his voice low and steady. Years ago, she’d come here numerous times when Philip had been courting Arabella, his first wife and Dr Hale’s daughter.
‘A gambling establishment. How exciting!’ Mrs Hale drank in the news as she did every other scandal the two of them had ever shared.
‘It isn’t exciting, it’s awful.’ Guilt pressed on her as much as anxiety. She’d promised Jasper she wouldn’t tell anyone, but he’d also promised to make her his primary concern and he hadn’t. ‘He’s away from me all night and sleeps all morning. I hardly see him except for afternoons and evenings when we, well, you know.’
‘I do.’ She poured tea in Jane’s cup, eyeing her through the steam. ‘Is that why you’re here?’
‘No.’ She rose and went to Dr Hale’s bookshelf to straighten a few books. She’d rather be here about a possible baby instead of this worry. She turned and took in the familiar room. After Arabella had passed, Jane used to sit here with Dr Hale, trying to help him in a way she hadn’t been able to do with Philip. In his grief her brother had retreated into a more severe stoicism than before, while Dr Hale had appeared lost. Later, when Thomas was old enough, Jane used to bring her nephew here to see his grandfather. The visits had helped ease Dr Hale out of his mourning and it had made a great difference to them both. In the cosy sitting room, Jane hoped to garner a little of the comfort she’d been able to offer during that difficult time. ‘The gambling hell isn’t the worst of it. There’s something serious tormenting Jasper, something he won’t tell me about, and I think it might be another woman.’
Mrs Hale motioned for Jane to return to her seat at the table. Jane sat across from her and told her about the letter from Savannah and Jasper coming home from the hell in the mornings, troubled but unwilling to discuss it with her. ‘I love him and I want this to be a real marriage, but I’m not sure he wants the same.’
Mrs Hale reached across the table and squeezed her hand. ‘I think he does and I suspect it’s the reason he changed his mind about marrying you. Deep down, he realised you can help him face whatever he’s dealing with and you must, or things will never be right between you.’
‘But the woman in Savannah?’
‘Perhaps she is just a widow he’s done business with.’
‘And if she’s not?’
Mrs Hale let go of her hand and sat back. ‘Jane, if there is one thing I’ve learned after two marriages, it’s the need to trust your spouse and to give him the benefit of the doubt. Until you learn otherwise, don’t worry yourself into a panic about a woman an ocean away. If you’re patient, I’m sure the truth will eventually come out and it will probably be nothing like what you’re imagining.’
‘It wasn’t with Milton.’
‘And you must stop allowing your experience with him to guide you in this. Jasper is not his brother and you worrying about what might be, instead of what is, won’t help you.’
Jane threw out her arms in frustration. ‘I don’t even know what is and what isn’t. He won’t tell me and it’s coming between us and I have no idea what to do.’
Mrs Hale picked up her spoon and stirred her tea a moment before she tapped it on the side of the cup and laid it in the saucer. ‘I think, deep down, you do know what to do.’
‘I don’t, it’s why I’m here,’ she blurted through clenched teeth. This wasn’t at all what she’d expected from her old mentor. Jane’s outburst didn’t rattle Mrs Hale who sat calmly across from her, hands folded in her lap just as she always had when Jane had come to her fuming about one thing or another. Jane rolled her shoulders and calmed herself, not wanting to drive away Mrs Hale like she was driving away Jasper. ‘If I did, then I would do it and things wouldn’t be as bad as they are.’
‘I know you like to take action, to get to the meat of the matter, but Jasper isn’t an obstacle to overcome or a problem with a neat solution. If he’s holding on to his secrets as you say, he’ll fight like a wounded badger if you try to wrest them from him.’
‘Are you saying I was wrong to try to force him to talk?’
‘Not at all. Sometimes, you have to try something before you know it won’t work. Now it’s time to try something else, something only you as his wife can do. You were his closest friend for a very long time, the one person he chose to entrust his secret to and then to wed. You know him better than possibly anyone else and what it will take to reach him and gain his confidence.’
‘But—’
Mrs Hale held up one hand to silence her. ‘There is nothing to stop you from doing this except your doubt in yourself and your value to him.’ She reached over and cupped Jane’s face with her hands. ‘You’re a very strong young lady and, while it hasn’t always worked in your favour, it is an advantage and not a weakness, and you must learn to see it as such.’
‘How can I when all anyone has ever done is chide me for it?’
Mrs Hale tilted her head at her in amused disbelief. ‘And have you ever listened to all those people in other matters, such as purchasing buildings?’
‘No.’
‘Then why take their word for it this time?’
Because over the years she’d come to realise they were right. She wasn’t a strong person, just a stubborn one whose desire to always have her way had killed her parents and now was driving her husband away. Jane took a deep breath and shoved her doubts down deep inside her. She’d always pretended to be strong so others would think she was solid against those who wanted to pull her down and so she might believe it, too. The last few days had shown her how weak she really was. If she dared to speak about it with Mrs Hale, then the woman who held so much faith in her might at last see it, too.
Mrs Hale smoothed a strand of hair off her forehead. ‘Trust in yourself, Jane, and in Jasper’s concern for you, and I promise all will be well.’
* * *
Jane returned from Mrs Hale’s, pondering everything she’d told her. She didn’t share her friend’s belief in her strength or her ability t
o find a way out of her present troubles. If she could, she would have done it by now, but everything seemed to be growing steadily worse. She shuddered to think how it all might end.
She was not two feet in the door when Johnson approached her. ‘Mr Steed is here to see you, Mrs Charton. He’s waiting in the sitting room.’
‘Thank you.’ Jane reluctantly made for the sitting room, in no mood to deal with anyone today. ‘Mr Steed, I hope this unexpected visit is good news.’
She needed a little good fortune to lift her spirits.
Mr Steed rose from where he’d been sitting and bowed to her. They’d met before when Jasper had taken her to his office to arrange for her to manage his accounts once they were wed. He was tall with sandy hair and the charm of Jasper, but more sedate in his application of it. ‘It’s neither good nor bad, Mrs Charton, only necessary. Since Mr Charton has given you power to handle his affairs, I thought you could approve this bank draft. He instructed me to send it at once and there’s a ship leaving for America in the morning. He promised to deliver it to me yesterday, but it must have slipped his mind. I’m eager to send this with the captain. It will prevent any unnecessary delay.’
He removed a paper from the fine leather satchel he carried and held out the draft. Jane took it and swallowed hard, determined not to fly into a panic. ‘Who is Mrs Robillard and why is Jasper sending her this much money?’
‘He’s been sending money to her since he first engaged me after coming home. As for why, that is something you will have to discuss with him. He offered me no reason and it isn’t my habit to ask. If you’d like, I can wait on the draft and speak to him myself.’ He reached for the paper, recognising his mistake in bringing it to her. The pity on his face reminded her of the way the elder Mr and Mrs Charton had looked the morning they’d come to tell her about Milton. It was exactly what she hadn’t wanted to experience in marriage, what Jasper had promised her wouldn’t happen and yet here it was. What other secrets of his were waiting to rise up and humiliate her? The possibility added to the disquiet surrounding her since leaving Mrs Hale’s.
