‘The consequences of your decision will be immediate and unavoidable,’ her mother said quietly. ‘John Aniston will be bound to distance himself from your father. At the guild meetings he will be met with hostility from the other members, which will affect him deeply. They will be speculative, curious and even grimly amused, as if his woes serve only to mark another tragedy that one can relate to the next gossip avid for another’s misery.’
‘I sincerely hope it won’t be like that,’ Jane said, wishing she could ease her mother’s anxiety.
Margaret heaved a pensive sigh. ‘The fact that your father is facing ruin will soon be known to all. Without the occurrence of some miracle, there is nothing we can do to ease our present unfortunate state.’
A lump formed in Jane’s throat and she felt as if she would never swallow again and her eyes, so strangely dry one moment, stung painfully the next. ‘I understand how troubled you are, Mother,’ Jane said in a quiet voice, no less distressed as she sought to find some ray of hope in a painfully dark future. ‘I truly wish there was something I could do to alter our present unfortunate state.’
She looked up when her father entered the garden and came to join them. His lips were pursed, his eyes angry and accusing, and for the next half-hour Jane listened to his angry tirade, telling her over and over again that she was a wretched girl, ungrateful and a fool.
Jane sighed as she left his presence. He did not profess concern for her well-being and happiness at all. By now she should expect nothing less.
And then the worst, the very worst, happened. Richard told everyone that he was the one who had called off the betrothal, claiming that Jane had attracted the Earl of Sinnington’s amorous attentions and that he had bedded her.
Jane could not contain the shock of Richard’s accusation. It spilled over on to her cheeks in a torrent of hot tears as she regarded her mother. They were alone in her chamber.
‘How can he say such wickedness? I was the one who refused to become betrothed to him.’ Her shoulders quaked with sobs. ‘What reason can possibly justify this?’
Jane thought her father was going to have a seizure when the news that was spreading throughout Cherriot Vale and beyond reached him. His eyes never moved from her face. He seemed unable to speak, to form any words, from between his rigidly clamped lips. Even though Jane denied Richard’s accusations most adamantly, his thin face was drawn, his eyes cold and accusing. He was convinced there had to be some substance behind the rumour and just came short of calling his daughter wanton and a whore.
Jane felt as if she were being swept along by a tidal wave, as if there were no way to save herself from drowning. Her thoughts turned to Guy St Edmond and she found herself in the vexing position of wondering how he would react to Richard’s indictment and how furious he would be. She dreaded the moment when she would have to confront him and see what she knew would surely be contempt written all over his features.
She was not wrong. The man who arrived at the house and strode into the hall, his tall frame clad entirely in black, bore little resemblance to the amorous earl she had met at the church only five days ago. Today he was an aloof, icy stranger who gave her no more than a cursory glance before focusing all his attention on her father.
Chapter Four
When the rumour had reached him, a white-hot fury unlike anything he’d ever experienced had consumed Guy, turning his mind into a fiery volcano of boiling rage. Parading before his eyes were visions of a bewitching girl with the face of an angel, laughing as he’d seen her do in the woodland glade. Because of his own gullibility of wanting to bed her, he’d fallen into a trap of his own making.
Aniston had done his worst and disappeared. Which was as well. Had Guy been able to get his hands on him, he would have slit his throat gladly. At that moment he’d been so infuriated, too incensed to care, but now his fury had reduced to a dangerous calm.
His gaze settled on Master Lovet. ‘You will know why I have come,’ he remarked coolly.
‘Indeed, my lord,’ Simon replied stiffly, knowing there was something in this for his own gain if he played his cards right. Having considered the situation at great length, he realised he would be a fool not to take the opportunity to turn what had happened to his advantage. The Earl of Sinnington was a wealthy and titled man; one of the most powerful men in the land. The position as Countess of Sinnington would sit very well on his daughter’s shoulders. Better by far that she married an earl than the son of a cloth merchant. But he must not forget that the Earl of Sinnington was a proud and noble man—a warrior, a man who had earned the confidence of the king. It was dangerous to question the honour of such a man. ‘However, you could have spared yourself the trouble of this visit. I had every intention of calling on you at the castle.’
‘Then I have saved you the trouble.’
‘Can we offer you refreshment?’
‘No, thank you. I have not come here to make polite conversation,’ Guy stated ominously, looking at Jane intently.
Jane’s entire being was engulfed in mortification, her misery increasing a thousandfold as she stood beside her parents, her eyes settled on the set of Guy’s proud head, and again the awakening of pleasure deep within her was strong and disturbing, a long slither of longing sliding down her belly. Her eyes found his face and were trapped there by some satanic seduction. He looked hard at her, seeing through her, in the way he had of judging men. It was a moment of testing and she knew it even then. His eyes were bright, but they pierced like a sword thrust and felt like cold steel.
It took every ounce of courage she possessed to meet his gaze and hold it. There was no tenderness on his face. It was as if he knew everything, that he could judge a man’s character to a hair’s breadth and from whom few could keep secrets.
He had the look of a conqueror about him and appeared most confident. It frightened her, especially when those thoroughly blue eyes locked on her and slowly raked her. She had almost forgotten how brilliant and clear they were. In some magical way they seemed capable of stripping her mind bare of all thought. It was all she could do to face his unspoken challenge and not retreat to the safety of her room.
‘My wife and I recognise that we must lend all our support to our daughter at this time,’ Simon went on, his expression the quintessence of slyness. His eyes were narrowed, his lips twisted into a sardonic smile—he was like a fox about to pounce. ‘She has told us of everything that has transpired since the two of you met—how you intended to dishonour her by making her your mistress and how she broke off her intended betrothal to Master Aniston, and that as a consequence he has turned the tables and put the onus on her—and you. I do not like primitive behaviour, sir, when it threatens the stability of my family.’
Guy flicked his brows upwards mockingly. ‘Primitive behaviour,’ he stated quietly. ‘By that remark I sincerely hope you are referring to Aniston, Master Lovet.’
‘Forgive my boldness, but by my reckoning the accusation can be applied to a man who approaches a young unmarried girl with seduction in mind. I expected better of you, my lord. Your actions were those of a feckless youth, not a distinguished knight of the realm.’
‘I agree absolutely. And for what it’s worth I regret what I did. I should have approached you over the matter.’
‘Yes, you should—even though as a father I would have refused your request outright. In the light of Richard’s announcement, the whole of Cherriot Vale and beyond despise my daughter for things she has not done. In their eyes she has done the unforgivable—giving herself to a man who is not her husband. I have a moral code, sir, and you publicly breached that code by exposing her to scandal.’
‘If anyone can make a scandal out of a woman speaking to a man outside a church, then they need their minds examining,’ Guy said coldly.
‘Not when that young lady is my daughter. I have considered the possible repercussions that may occur because of it. By your actions you have compromised my daughter.’
Abandoni
ng his nonchalant manner and stepping forwards, Guy sounded ready to explode. ‘I have done what?’ he ground out ominously.
‘You attempted to seduce a young woman of a decent, respectable family outside the church.’
‘I did no such thing. Jane spoke to me of her own volition—is that not so?’ Guy reminded her forcefully, preferring to ignore what her father said about seduction since it was true. Before he had come here he had given little thought to how Jane must be suffering the gossip. He didn’t try to defend himself. How could he? But the whole sorry affair brought home to him his own callous treatment of this beautiful young woman.
‘Jane had high hopes of making a good marriage and because of this she is ruined—an outcast among her own people,’ Simon stated forcefully.
‘You know, Master Lovet,’ Guy said stony faced, ‘I find it amazing that almost everyone who knows me is half-afraid of me, except a handful of my friends, you, sir, and your daughter. I can only surmise that courage—or recklessness, call it what you will—is passed through the bloodline to her. What is it you want from me?’
Believing he knew exactly how to play this game, Simon looked at him, his piercing eyes alive with anticipation. ‘You may not like what I have to suggest. Indeed, I am uncomfortable with it myself, yet I can think of no other way at present to stop the gossip that will surely ruin my daughter. There are many kinds of persecution that are not readily apparent, such as the whispered conjectures, the gossip and subtle innuendoes that can destroy a reputation and inflict a lifetime of damage. I believe I am justified in asking reparation from you in every conceivable form. I can think of only one possible arrangement that can hold sway over that to be adequate enough to protect her and avoid having her shut up in a nunnery.’
‘And that is?’
‘That a marriage between the two of you will be an excellent compromise.’
Having fully expected this—indeed, he had tossed the idea about himself for a time before discarding it in the hope of arriving at another solution to the dilemma—his face a taut mask of controlled fury, Guy stared at him before jerking his gaze to Jane and then back to her father. ‘That is a bold suggestion you make, Master Lovet. But to wed her would only broadcast throughout Cherriot Vale the very scandal you find so damaging to your daughter.’
Pushed beyond the bounds of reason by her father’s words and knowing how his devious mind worked to manipulate the situation towards his own gain, shamed to the depths of her being, Jane stepped forwards, her body rigid, her hands clenched by her sides. Did he care so little for her that he would see her wed to the man who, by all accounts, was responsible for the death of his own son for no other reason than to elevate himself financially and in prominence no matter what?
‘No,’ she cried, managing to drag her voice through the strangling mortification in her chest. This was worse, much worse than she had dreamed it could be. ‘Please believe me. I knew nothing of this. The idea of our marrying is ludicrous. I don’t want to marry you.’
Guy looked at her and his face became a cynical mask. ‘You’re absolutely right,’ he mocked sarcastically. ‘It is ludicrous.’
Jane heard the insult in his smoothly worded remark and she almost choked on her chagrin. ‘And quite unthinkable that I should even consider marrying the man on whose authority my brother lost his life. I think I would rather be ruined in the eyes of everyone than consent to be your wife.’
‘Jane,’ her mother said, speaking for the first time. Observing how the earl’s eyes narrowed ominously, she was afraid of this dangerous twist in the proceedings. ‘The manner of Andrew’s death is unproven. Now is not the time.’
Simon subjected Jane to his hard, angry gaze. ‘Your mother is right. This is not the time to speak of it and the reports of your brother’s death were confusing at the time.’
‘But I know,’ Jane said with emphasis, wondering how her father could possibly insist on this marriage while knowing he might be marrying her to her brother’s murderer. ‘I cannot wed the man whose hands are in all probability stained with Andrew’s blood.’
The eyes Guy turned on her were hard and a jeering grin showed startling white teeth against the swarthy skin. ‘I am glad we are of accord, Jane, and you should heed your mother. Now is not the time to speak of your brother. I always said that when I decide to take a wife it would be in my own way, with the woman of my choosing, and not when a woman is holding an axe over my head—which is precisely where all my manly instincts rebel.’
‘So you do not intend to right the wrong you have done,’ Simon said coldly.
Guy look at him long and hard. He was a man who had made his own choices for most of his life. As much as he yearned to appease his manly appetites with Jane Lovet, how could he blandly accept this sly, ambitious cloth-merchant’s will without yielding his mind?
‘No, he does not,’ Jane said quickly, her small chin lifted and her spine stiffened with pride. ‘I can understand your reticence to marry me, sir, as much as my own not to marry you.’
‘Be silent, Jane,’ her father ordered with icy calm, turning his determined gaze on the earl once more. ‘And I would appreciate you addressing my daughter with more respect, my lord.’
Guy allowed a meagre smile to convey his apology. ‘After many years as a soldier, Master Lovet, I’m afraid I shall have to relearn the art of gallantry.’
‘I dare say there was not much call for it in your encampments,’ Jane bit back, falling silent when her father shot her a withering look.
‘You are quite right. The ladies who infiltrated the ranks were not the kind you would wish to associate with, Mistress Lovet.’
Incensed by his callous reply, Jane faced him squarely. ‘You are not blameless in all this. You sought me out. I did nothing to encourage you and I did not agree to your bargain, but because of it I am despised. Now tell me I was wrong to refuse you.’
She was right. The undeniable truth of her accusation hit Guy with more force than he wanted to acknowledge, but his guilt was lessened by the knowledge that the life with Aniston was lost to her now, which would not have been much of a life for her at all. Thoughts of his military training came to mind and how his superiors had sought to share their wisdom he had gleaned from their own experiences, teaching him not merely with words but through example. Above all they had shown him the true meaning of duty and honour, which Guy had put into practice many times in his military career—the same duty and honour that had been absent in his treatment of many of the women who had shared his bed in the past, but which he must now apply to dealing with this situation of Jane. He had done her a great disservice when he had suggested that she become his mistress. He had no choice except to rescue her from what she was suffering now.
The people of Cherriot Vale would still see her as a fallen woman—someone who has erred, not a victim, and she’d spend the rest of her life paying for it. This fact alone, added to the knowledge that she would suit him in bed more than any other, were what permitted him to make his decision. Having arrived at it, he acted with typical speed and resolve.
‘No,’ he said in answer to Jane’s question, ‘you were within your rights to do so and I apologise for any distress I may have caused you and your family. In order to rectify the wrong, I agree to a marriage between us. Whether or not it is the right course to take remains to be seen.’
‘No. I will not marry you,’ Jane cried furiously, mentally circling for some way out. ‘I don’t want to marry you.’
Her father shot her a warning glance. ‘Jane, control yourself. You are too impertinent. You would do well to watch your manners. The earl is taking the honourable course by agreeing to make you his wife and I agree to it. It’s final. You will marry the earl so let that be an end to it.’
Jane despaired. Why did she have to do this? Her heart was racing. She wanted to scream in protest, but knew it was futile. Her father was adamant. His rule was law.
Guy turned his frigid gaze upon Simon Lovet. ‘And of cours
e you insist on a hasty betrothal,’ he growled.
Simon faced him with an unwavering stare, already gloating on his success. ‘Yes, I do,’ he said calmly.
A muscle twitched angrily in Guy’s cheek, but he said nothing, not even when Simon asked Jane and his wife to leave them, that they had matters to discuss.
With her mother following in her wake, Jane turned on her heel and went out.
When they were alone, still Jane could not help but ask, ‘Why is Father doing this? It is exactly the same as it was with Richard. I am beginning to regret my decision to call off our betrothal.’
Margaret bowed her head. ‘I’m sorry, Jane, but it is done. It’s all settled. You must understand why your father insisted on the earl doing the right thing by you. What has happened has become a joke among everyone in the vale. Your father has become a laughing stock. He will be indebted to you for this sacrifice you make on behalf of the family. You are an honour to the Lovet name.’
Was there an emphasis on the word ‘sacrifice’? Jane wondered. Her heart wrenched with pain and bitterness. Her father could rally no hope for the future, knowing his family faced nothing but bleakness unless she married Guy St Edmond. She clearly understood the importance her father set by the alliance to be forged with this union.
She swallowed hard as she faced her mother, unable to still the quavering weakness that hindered her voice. ‘You are right. I have no choice but to wed him. I will do what I must to help us all out of this dire situation. I will not allow my family to live in poverty—not when I have it in my power to put things right.’
Solemnly her mother embraced her, kissing her cheek. ‘Thank you, Jane. God bless you. I know you are thinking of the good of the family.’
Jane bowed her head. Her mother was right. She was thinking of the family—but most of all she was thinking about herself.
Guy asked to speak to Jane in private before he left. With his narrow gaze trained on her, her father watched her go into the parlour and close the door. When she entered Guy made no move towards her. The impact of his gaze was no less potent for the distance between them. She returned his stare as boldly as he gave it. The lean planes of his cheeks looked harsh and forbidding, his jaw was set and rigid, and she was close enough to detect the underlying currents in his body. He was seething with anger and that anger was directed at her.
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