by June Francis
She felt as if she could scarcely breathe and dropped her gaze. How could she speak of it and look him in the eye? ‘There is something I must confess.’
Chapter Eleven
He hesitated. ‘Is it to do with Willem Godar?’
She hung her head. ‘Aye.’
‘I thought we had already discussed your relationship with him?’
‘There is more!’ She added rapidly, ‘He got me with child, but I never told him because by then he had returned to his wife.’
For a moment Nicholas could only stare at her, so stupefied that for a moment he could not think or speak.
‘Say something,’ she croaked. ‘Say you understand why I had to do what I did next.’
He found his voice. ‘You mean you married Simon Caldwell to conceal your shame?’
She nodded wordlessly, struggling to find the words to explain what had followed after she had told her brother Giles of her condition, but they stuck in her throat because Nicholas’s expression was set in stone and appeared just as unyielding.
There was a silence that seemed to go on for ever. Nicholas’s emotions were in turmoil. His uppermost feelings were of anger and painful disappointment. How could the Jane he so admired and in whom he had such faith have behaved so dishonestly? Why had she not told him of this much earlier? She could have done so when she had spoken of having had a girlish infatuation with Godar. Instead she had remained silent. Why? He told himself that he would have understood how such a thing could happen, because hadn’t he got himself into an emotional mess where Louise was concerned? Maybe it was because she knew how he would feel about her having made a cuckold of Simon Caldwell by tricking him into marriage? He did not want to believe that she was as much of a deceiver as other women, but how could he not when she had just confessed to it? He really had convinced himself that Jane was different from other women, but it seemed that when she had spoken of being far from perfect she had meant it. He had just not been hearing what she was saying. She knew how hurt he had been when he had discovered Louise had been deceiving him—surely she must have thought about how he would react on learning that she, herself, was not above a bit of deception? He hated the thought, and it filled him with rage—because he had started to believe that he might have found real love with Jane. He had been so looking forward to sharing a new life with her, different from anything that he had experienced in the past. Suddenly he felt such a sense of loss.
Jane coughed, drawing his attention. ‘I had no choice,’ she said unsteadily. ‘A man can have no idea what it is like for a woman to find herself in such a position.’
Nicholas saw the misery in her lovely brown eyes and despite the emotions that gripped him found himself picturing that young girl who had loved unwisely, just as he had done in the past. Finding herself with child, and unable to turn to its father for help, she had taken the only way she’d thought open to her. Still, she had lost her virginity to Godar. He tried to convince himself that she had been a victim of Godar’s lust, whatever the weaver might have said to the contrary. Yet an insidious voice in his head was saying that she had been willing and as much as a fool for love as he had been himself.
Her voice broke into his thoughts again. ‘My brother insisted that I marry Simon and he made all the arrangements,’ said Jane. ‘I did not want to marry him—not as I want to marry you.’ Tears trickled down her cheeks. ‘I used to dream of you holding me in your arms when Rebecca read of your adventures. I believed you to be different from other men I had met.’
‘Stop it. I don’t want to hear you saying such things.’ Nicholas’s voice was raw. ‘Besides, there is no need to lie. I will still marry you.’
Jane was stunned. ‘No!’
For a moment he was taken aback by her refusal. ‘You can’t mean that?’
‘I certainly do. How can I marry a man who does not believe me when I speak the truth?’
His eyes glinted. ‘You will do as I say. You must marry, and both those men who would have taken you for wife are no longer in the reckoning.’
She flinched. ‘I will manage somehow to support myself and the children.’
‘How? Besides, they will be disappointed if we do not marry. You have just confessed it is what you want, and I do believe you when you say that.’
Jane stared at him, nonplussed. ‘I see what it is and I do not want your pity!’ she cried.
‘It is not pity I am feeling. I will not have you making a fool of me, Jane.’ His voice hardened. ‘It is too late to back out now. All is arranged and the wedding will go ahead. I will send Rebecca back to you and expect you downstairs within the hour.’
Jane could only stare at him blankly from tear-filled eyes. She saw some unfathomable emotion flash across his face. Then he was gone. She sank onto the bed, scarcely able to believe that what she had dreaded had been dealt with. But the anguish that had tormented her was not over. She had proved a deep disappointment to him, and he was only marrying her because he didn’t want to look a fool.
There came a sound at the door and she turned her head and saw Rebecca standing there with a bowl and a pitcher of steaming water. Over her arm hung a drying cloth.
‘Do you want me to help you undress?’ she asked.
Jane realised she was going to have to play the part of happy bride-to-be. She could not cope with trying to explain to Rebecca what had passed between her and Nicholas and so she forced a smile. ‘If you would.’
‘You are feeling better now you’ve rid yourself of whatever was on your conscience?’ asked Rebecca, smiling.
Briefly a shadow darkened Jane’s eyes. ‘Aye, but if you don’t mind I do not wish to talk about it now.’ If ever, she added to herself.
‘If that is what you want,’ said Rebecca, placing the bowl on the chest and removing the soap and cloth before pouring in the warm water. ‘Besides, your future husband is waiting.’ She turned away. ‘Now, where is the gown you chose?’
Jane indicated the one she had placed on the bed. The gown was of Lincoln green and made of fine linen, the bodice embroidered with yellow thread in a pattern of flowers and leaves.
As Rebecca helped Jane off with the grey gown she was wearing she murmured, ‘He is making sure of you by marrying you now. It is just a pity that you must part so soon.’
‘I know,’ said Jane with a sigh, thinking that no doubt he was relieved to be parting from her on the morrow.
She made her toilette, forcing herself to hum a country air cheerfully. When that was done, with Rebecca’s help she dragged the skirts of the other gown over her hips, smoothing them down as best she could for they were a mite crumpled.
‘I understand now why you insisted on travelling with Pip wherever he went. Parting from Nicholas is going to be painful. I don’t know how I will bear being separated from him,’ she said, playing her part.
‘I could have the children stay with me for a while in Oxford, so that you and Nicholas can spend a sennight or more getting to know each other better without them around,’ said Rebecca. ‘I will have Tabitha and Dorothea to help with the babies, so it is not impossible.’
Jane’s heart sank. She believed it was the last thing that Nicholas would want. Then she remembered that Rebecca had spoken of visiting Draymore Manor and knew that she could not leave her to go there without her. ‘Maybe in a few days’ time we could do that?’ she suggested. ‘It would be too much of a rush to arrange everything so soon.’ She shoved back a hank of soft brown hair that had come loose from its pins. ‘Now, if you’ll help me tidy my hair?’
Rebecca did so. It was only as they were about to leave the bedchamber that Jane thought to remove her wedding ring. She placed it on the chest and went downstairs, where they found the priest and Nicholas, apparently discussing his latest book.
The two men broke off their conversation and Nicholas strode over to Jane. ‘You look...different.’ He thought how he had only ever seen her heavily with child, giving birth, or in mourning garb. He felt a flood of
emotion that he did not want to put a name to in the light of what had taken place earlier.
‘Fine feathers make fine birds,’ she said nervously.
‘Quite,’ he said, hesitating before offering her his arm.
She placed her hand on his sleeve. She would have liked to say how well he looked, but the words would not come. He led her to the table over by the window, where the setting sun flooded in. It was the place that he and the priest had decided on for them to exchange their marriage vows. The girls and Rebecca came and stood nearby and James, who appeared only just to have noticed what was happening, scrambled up from the floor, where he had been playing with a simple wooden toy boat that Nicholas had brought him, and rushed across to them.
He tugged on Margaret’s skirt. ‘What is happening?’
‘Mama and Master Nicholas are getting married,’ she whispered. ‘Now, hush!’
As Jane repeated her wedding vows she felt as if it was someone else saying them on the old Jane’s behalf. No doubt it was foolish to think such thoughts, because she was the same person she had always been, and yet she did feel different as Nicholas placed a shiny new ring on her finger in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. She was amazed at how much he had managed to achieve during the time he had been absent from the house earlier.
But there was to be more, for when the ceremony was over he surprised her further with his forethought by producing two short documents that had apparently been drawn up scarcely three hours ago. For a moment she thought he might suggest that she read them and her heart sank, for although she had been taught her alphabet, and to be able to read what was necessary to organise a household and cook, she was certain that reading such documents would be beyond her. Fortunately Nicholas explained that one of the documents was a marriage agreement in which he had settled a sum of money on her and the other was his will, which stated that he had left half of what he owned to Jane, her sons and stepdaughters and the other half to Matilda.
It was more than she had expected. She wanted to tell him that she did not want his money, that she loved him, but she knew that he would find her words an embarrassment in the circumstances and no doubt would not believe her. It did prove to her, though, that he considered his life was still at risk by his rushing into taking such steps. As she watched the priest and Rebecca witness his signature Jane thought how she would exchange all that he was prepared to give her to keep him alive. He handed the documents to the priest for safekeeping and surprised Jane afresh by telling her that he had reserved a bedchamber for them at the inn that night.
‘That is if you are willing to take responsibility for the children, Rebecca?’ he said, cocking an eyebrow in her direction.
She smiled. ‘How can I refuse?’
Nicholas thanked her, and then he saw the priest out, after expressing his gratitude and having him paid for his services.
After that they ate the meal Jane had prepared, although her appetite seemed to have quite deserted her. She felt like an athlete, waiting for the signal to run the race and win through to the finishing line, and drank a little more than she would have done normally.
When Nicholas murmured in her ear, ‘It’s time for us to go, Jane,’ she almost jumped out of her skin.
‘I—I’ll just get my coat,’ she stammered.
Rebecca followed Jane, lifting the garment from its hook and helping her on with it. ‘Now, you are not to worry about the children. Enjoy your wedding night, love,’ she said, giving her a hug.
Jane nodded, aware that the fluttering beneath her ribs had increased. ‘Nicholas took a lot for granted by reserving a room at the inn, don’t you think?’ she said in a low voice.
‘No doubt if you had turned him down he would have slept there alone,’ said Rebecca, ‘but it would obviously not have been what he wanted. If you still prefer to believe he wants you purely as a mother for his daughter I consider you mistaken. Take it as a compliment if that is part of his reason for wanting you as his wife. Not all women make good mothers.’
Jane took a shaky breath. ‘That is not the same as saying that he loves me. Still, I should be grateful, for I do believe he is that which you have said—an honourable man.’
Rebecca smiled. ‘Pip is going to be vexed when he discovers he has missed your wedding, but he will be delighted, none the less, that you and Nicholas are husband and wife.’
‘I also regret that he could not be at our wedding,’ said Jane gravely, ‘but I am determined that if all goes well then we will have a feast to celebrate later in the year.’
At that moment Nicholas approached, and Jane repeated that she would like them to mark their wedding with a feast in the summer.
He gave a barely perceptible nod. ‘If that is what you wish, but I consider it unnecessary. Now, we must go. We wish you a good night, Rebecca.’
Only when they were outside did Jane glance over her shoulder and say, ‘I didn’t say goodnight to the children!’
She would have rectified her forgetfulness if Nicholas had not prevented her.
‘Let’s not worry about them now,’ he said firmly. ‘This is one occasion when they cannot join us.’
Jane glanced up at him and thought, How stern he looks! As they walked along the High Street to the inn, she said, ‘I did not expect our wedding night to be like this.’
‘Nor I,’ said Nicholas, increasing his pace so that she had to run to keep up with him. ‘I would have preferred to be heading for Bristol.’
‘I would have liked that, too,’ said Jane, slightly breathlessly. ‘Just the two of us.’
His eyes blazed as he gazed down at her and came to a halt. ‘Would you, Jane?’
‘Of course! Do you ever wish...?’
‘What?’
‘That one could rewrite the past? I have so many regrets, and yet I am more fortunate this day than the bride I was when I married Simon Caldwell. I wish that you and I had met earlier. I remember you saying that not so long ago.’
‘Aye, but what is the use of regrets? We can’t alter what has happened and so we must make the best of what there is,’ he said harshly, beginning to walk again, slower this time.
They reached the inn and he opened the door and ushered her inside. A maid lit the way as she showed them up to their bedchamber, and left the candlestand with them.
Jane removed her coat and gazed around at the plainly furnished room, with its whitewashed walls on which candlelight cast dancing shadows, thinking of the times she had walked past this building. She had never spent a night within its walls. She glanced at the bed and suddenly was filled with trepidation. What if she proved to be a further disappointment to him between the sheets?
Nicholas’s eyes followed Jane’s and he determined to block out all that she had told him earlier. He removed his coat and tossed it on a stool, and then turned to her. She seemed unaware of his regard as she gazed at the bed. He wondered if she was thinking of Willem Godar or the wedding night she had spent with her first husband. It suddenly hit him like a blow that Godar might have brought her here to seduce her—after all they had fallen in love at the Witney Fair.
‘Do you know, Nicholas, I have never been in this inn before,’ she said in a low voice.
He barely caught the words but they were enough to send relief washing through him. ‘Have you not?’ he said.
‘No.’ She smiled at him, sensing his mood had lightened. ‘No doubt you have slept in many an inn on your travels?’
‘I’ve spent more nights aboard ship,’ he answered with a wry smile. ‘Admittedly they were not the most relaxing.’
‘You should put decent sleeping quarters into your ship’s plan,’ she said boldly. ‘After all I might wish to sail in your galleon with you.’
‘You surprise me. I had received the impression that the sea frightened you.’
‘Aren’t most people frightened of the unknown?’ said Jane, turning her back on him. ‘Except a brave explorer like yourself. I never did doubt the advent
ures you described actually happened, you know. I believe in you.’
He was touched despite the doubts that plagued him.
‘Jane!’
He spoke her name softly and instantly she turned and looked at him. Even in the candlelight he could make out every contour of her body and the blush on her cheeks. Yet he reminded himself that she was no virginal maiden, even if in that moment she appeared so. He imagined how she must have looked to Godar, and of their own volition his hands curled into fists. Then she took a step towards him and he reached out to her.
Whilst Nicholas’s fingers busied themselves undoing the ties on her gown he lowered his head and kissed her. The garment’s design told him that she had cast aside her widowhood and mourning and taken on the role of wife. His wife! The gown slid to the floor and he lifted his mouth from hers. His lips grazed the smooth white skin of her neck and descended in a wavering line to the curve of her breast. He felt her tremble as he tugged the bow of ribbon that was threaded through the neck of her chemise. His hand stilled, but she reached up and pulled on the other end of the ribbon so that it unravelled. He remembered what she had said about dreaming of being in his arms. The garment slunk downwards to form a puddle about her bare ankles. He gazed at her nakedness and desire flared inside him.
Instinctively Jane crossed her arms across her breasts and then, realising she was exposing her sex, she dropped an arm to cover that part of her. Only when she had done so did she realise how foolish she was being.
‘Surely you’re not shy of me, Jane?’ he said, his voice deepening with emotion. ‘Isn’t this what you wanted?’
Of course she was not shy or scared of him! She tilted her chin and placed her hands on her hips provocatively. ‘Aye, to be scared or shy of you would be foolish, but to be honest I have never been completely bare with a man before.’
‘Never? God’s blood!’ Her words pleased him and he slid his hands down over her shoulders to the rosy peaks of her breasts. He caressed first one and then the other with his tongue and his lips.
