by Ella Edon
“With such an interesting person as you, Louisa, can you blame me?”
“I cannot. I have heard as much from many other gentlemen before you.” Jerome couldn’t believe his ears. She was speaking to him like a decent human being, rather than an object to lash out at. Jerome was glad for it. No matter how patient he could be, he knew there would come a time where he would no longer be able to deal with it. He was glad for this reprieve.
As they turned down another hallway, heading towards the back staircase that would lead to the gardens behind the manor, Jerome said, “Undoubtedly, you have. How you dealt with all that attention, I haven’t a clue.”
She glanced up at him, a curious look on her face. “Have you courted many ladies, Jerome?”
The question threw him. So much so that Jerome didn’t know how to respond.
Louisa continued without waiting for him, “It appears to me that you have not. You do not seem to know how to speak to a lady. Perhaps that is why you lost to the Duke of Rutherford.”
Ah, I see. Tired though she may be, Louisa wasn’t warming up to him. She was merely landing her jabs in a much calmer manner. For some reason, it was much easier to handle this way. Almost amusing—and a lovely distraction from the sensual image of her lying in her bed. “Is that so? And here I thought it was because they had found themselves in a rather compromising position.”
“Had you been vigilant, perhaps that would not have happened in the first place.”
“Do you regret me not marrying your sister, Louisa?”
Her eyes shot up to him and, for the first time since he’d last seen her, they were filled with a shimmer of emotion—surprise. It was perfectly timed, just as they stepped out of the manor. The late morning sunlight spilled over her face, making the dark circles under her eyes more obvious and the surprise sharper.
“Why would I regret such a thing?” she demanded, her voice growing higher. Jerome looked on, a tad amused by how flustered she sounded. “Even though the events were quite stressful, I could not be happier that Kenneth and Charlotte are married.”
“Is that because you were meant to marry him first?”
“Charlotte is my sister,” she said strongly. “It is perfectly normal to enjoy my sister’s own happiness.”
“Certainly,” Jerome said easily. Tall hedges surrounded them on both sides as they headed down a trail of loose stones. “But you cannot deny that you are happy you did not marry then.”
“I also cannot deny that I am unhappy to be married now.”
“Ouch.” Jerome winced playfully. “And you say I am the one who does not mince words.”
Louisa peered up at him. He smiled at her, wanting her to see that he was on her side, that he intended to treat her kindly during their days together. The distrust that clouded her blue eyes hurt him a bit, but Jerome knew it shouldn’t.
“You may leave,” she said as they came to a stop before a gazebo. “I only needed you to show me to the gardens. I am certain I can make it back and forth on my own now.”
If that was really what she’d wanted, she would have asked Hannah to do it. Jerome didn’t bother to point that out. He took solace in that fact as he resisted the urge to step closer to her. Seeing her in the light of day, seeing the stark fatigue on her face, had a surge of worry sprouting within him once again.
“Louisa,” he said gently, his tone serious. He saw how she stiffened, how she lifted her chin as if to brace herself for whatever he was about to say. “Are you certain you have been sleeping at night?”
“Leave me be, Jerome.” The words were meant to be harsher than they sounded, Jerome knew. His concern deepened.
He stared at her, studying her openly. “You have not toured the manor as yet, have you?” he asked.
She frowned slightly. “I have not,” Louisa admitted.
“Hannah should know exactly where my study is by now. If there is anything wrong, do not hesitate to find me.”
Her confusion melted as she rolled her eyes. “And what could you possibly do if there is?”
“I’m not as to the point as I appear,” he said simply. “There is very little you know about me. How do you know I would not be able to help?”
Louisa said nothing at that. This time, she was the one studying him, a slow frown deepening on her face. Jerome took a step back as a show of his good intentions. “I will leave you be, as you wish. But I enjoyed this. I hope next time you will not be so uncomfortable with me.”
As he walked away, Jerome hoped she would say something to make him stay, if only for a moment. He was tempted to remain by her side, to continue talking with her despite how snappish her words were. The urge was enough to make his steps falter, but in case she was still watching, he kept going.
Louisa had quite an odd power. She was not only a beauty that could bring any gentleman to his knees—maybe even himself—but she had the ability to inspire such protectiveness within him that Jerome didn’t know what to do with himself. Every time he looked at her, he saw a terrified girl wearing the face of a woman. Someone who didn’t know how to handle her feelings and so lashed out at the people around her. Someone who wanted a deep-rooted pain to end.
He might be overthinking it. God knew he’d spent more time thinking about her than he had focusing on his duties. But Jerome couldn’t forget how agitated she’d been at the dinner party, how desperately she’d consumed the laudanum as if it was the only thing keeping her sane. He was afraid to think what might have driven her to this point in her life, but he was also desperate to know.
He only hoped one day she would let him in.
Chapter Fifteen
“His Grace is not well enough to leave his bed.” Jerome’s father’s physician looked grim as he spoke, which didn’t inspire much confidence in Jerome. “I am unsure of whether he will feel better in the coming days, or worse. We will only have to watch and see.”
“Thank you, Mr. Winter,” Jerome responded. His tone was hushed, even though he had a feeling his father would not be able to hear them speak on the other side of his door. “Thank you for taking such good care of him thus far.”
“I have been the duke’s physician for many years. It pains me to see him in so much pain, so I am happy to do whatever I can to make things better for him.” Mr. Winter pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed his sweaty brow. Jerome knew that in a matter of minutes, sweat would dot his forehead once again. “Please, do not hesitate to fetch me once there is some change in his state. I will come as quickly as I can.”
“Of that I am sure. Travel safely.” Jerome nodded at the butler, who stood a short distance away. He approached to escort the physician away, leaving Jerome to face his father alone.
He’d done so many times in the past and had always thought that he could handle him. If he’d managed to escape unscathed during one of the duke’s tirades, then he could deal with anything. Yet facing the door and knowing his father lay terribly ill on the other side was too much for him to bear. His strength faltered at the mere thought of it, and as he lifted his hand to the knob, it trembled.
Suddenly, Jerome wished he wasn’t alone. He’d done everything on his own. Even with his mother’s unspoken support, he’d braved his challenges alone. He’d always thought he was strong enough to handle anything. Being a businessman. Being labeled as a bastard son among gentry peers. Learning how to manage a business under his father’s harsh and unyielding tutelage—a feat that had seemed too difficult to handle many times before. He’d done it all without help, with only his own strength to carry him through.
But right now, he didn’t want to rely on himself. He wished he had someone standing by his side, a hand he could hold. Not for a moment did he think that he would be married and still have such a basic need be so out of reach.
Taking a deep breath, Jerome went inside. The duke had lost a great deal of weight. His labored breathing could be heard from where Jerome stood—a loud wheeze that clogged Jerome’s throat. Bracing himself, he made
his way over to the bed and stared down at his father’s sleeping face. His cheeks were hollowing, his skin pallid. It was the worst Jerome had ever seen him.
Jerome stared at him for a few seconds longer. He had no intention of staying. Despite his meeting in Bath running late, he’d stopped by to talk to his father, but when he’d learned that the physician was attending to him, he knew that would not be likely anymore. It was already late at night. Any reason for the physician to rush to his side despite the time could not be a good one.
“Jerome.”
He jumped at his father’s craggy groan. The duke tried to open his eyes, but it seemed like too much for him to bear. He left them close, letting out a shaky sigh. “Jerome,” he called again.
“Yes, Father, I’m here.” His throat was thick. Seeing his father in such a state was too difficult, yet he didn’t dare to look away.
“Tell me…” The duke’s voice trailed off, his brow creasing just a tad.
“Do not try to speak, Father,” Jerome said quickly. It was clear he was in pain. “The wedding went well. I told you before that I would be marrying the daughter of an earl, and she is quite perfect. You will like her.”
A false promise, but one he could afford right now. It was true that his father would like her. But if he would like her for his wife, Jerome wasn’t sure.
The duke nodded, trying to swallow. No matter what he did, he seemed to be in pain. “Good. I will…want to meet her…”
“Yes, Father, certainly. But that will have to wait for when you are well enough.” The duke opened his mouth to say something more, but Jerome wouldn’t give him the chance. “Enough talk, Father. It is time for you to rest.”
Had he been well, the duke would have grumbled something about not taking orders from him. The thought nearly made him smile. Louisa would have said the same thing.
Jerome straightened, watching as his father released another long breath, clearly falling asleep. He stared at him for a moment before his wheezing resumed. Unable to handle the sound of it any longer, he decided to leave. He listened to the echo of his footsteps as he made his way down the hallways back to the foyer. He focused on it and, after a while, the sadness of his father’s state disappeared. He couldn’t despair for long. He had things to take care of and a wife to return home to, even if she didn’t care to be in his presence.
The moonless night above him only worsened his mood. Jerome settled into his carriage, wanting nothing more than to find the comfort of his own bed. He wanted to forget the stress of his father’s illness, wanted to put aside the thought of the lady who did not want to share his bed. The latter, he feared, would not be quite as easy.
He’d thought of Louisa all day. In the early morning when he had been leaving, he considered once again informing her of his departure. On his way to Bath, he could hardly focus on the meeting ahead but on whether Louisa had eaten, if she had slept. Even during the meeting, she would pop into his mind and he would think about the way they’d spoken in the gardens. It might have been her tiredness, but they’d seemed almost…normal. Like two people sharing a conversation, rather than two people constantly sniping at each other.
As the carriage jerked over the uneven road, Jerome was not surprised to find her the subject of his thoughts once more. But this time, they turned to other things, things he hadn’t allowed himself to focus on. He thought of the fact that it was late at night, that she was likely already in bed. That her hair would likely be down, fanned out around her, and that she likely wore very little. His hand curled into a fist as his mind began to wander.
Jerome pictured walking into the room to find her waiting for him. That golden halo of hair brushing her backside, her eyes filled with innocence and longing. In his mind, he was her husband in every sense of the word. In his mind, he let himself want her—the way he knew he should, the way he knew was normal when faced with a woman like her. She let him touch her, let him run his hands down the length of her and feel every curve of her body. For once, Jerome didn’t cast aside the daydream but drowned himself in it. He’d always felt guilty thinking it, knowing she did not want him to touch her at all. But, right now, he couldn’t help himself.
He shook himself. Sleep. That was what he needed. He’d worked all day and his mind was too tired to think properly.
The manor was asleep, just as he had expected. Without hesitation, Jerome ascended the staircase, each step wearier than the last. Somehow he managed to make it to his bedchamber, and he instantly began stripping away his clothing, leaving them on the floor.
A scream ripped through the manor. Jerome’s blood ran cold. Louisa.
He rushed out of his bedchamber and took off in the direction of hers just as another scream echoed. His heart pounding in his ears, he was there within a minute and spotted Hannah also rushing to the scene.
“Mr. Cooper!” Hannah whispered frantically. She held a candle in her hand, and it was a wonder the flame hadn’t gone out in her hurry.
“Return to your room,” Jerome said instantly. There came another scream and Hannah glanced desperately at the door. “I will take care of this.”
Hannah nodded, though her eyes didn’t inspire much confidence. She stepped away with reluctance just as Jerome entered the room.
Louisa was writhing on the bed. Her head tossed from side to side, her hands grabbing the sheets in a frenzied manner. Her legs were tangled within them and her brow was shiny with sweat, soaking her hairline. “Uncle, no!” she cried.
“Louisa!” Jerome was desperate to touch her, to shake her awake. But he was afraid that it would only make whatever had caused this worse. “Louisa, wake up!”
His shouts got through to her. Louisa gasped awaked, her eyes flying open. Her heavy heaving had her arching off the bed, but even as she relaxed, she continued to heave. She scurried up to sit, her eyes wild, her hand in her hair. “What happened? Where I am? How did I—”
“You are home,” Jerome said. Even though he was terrified, he tried his best to keep cool. He didn’t know how his voice stayed so level as he continued, “You are in your bed. You were dreaming. It was all a bad dream.”
Louisa turned her terror-filled eyes to him, a hand fluttering at her chest. Jerome looked at it and swallowed, resisting the urge to take it. “Jerome?”
“Yes, I am here. I am with you.”
“How did you get in here?” Her voice was stronger now. “Why are you here?”
“You were screaming, Louisa.”
Her face went slack with her horror. She touched her temple in alarm then ran her fingers through her long blond hair as her mouth hung open. She was still trembling, but she moved constantly, as she if she needed to hide how her dream had affected her. Jerome didn’t say anything, watching as she bit her lip, her brows furrowing.
“Thank you for your concern,” she said finally in a shaky voice. “But I am fine now. You may leave.”
“I am not leaving your side.” Jerome shook his head. “And I do not think you want to be alone after such a terrible nightmare.”
She didn’t argue. That was proof enough. But he knew her hesitation and so he said, “Do you think you would feel better if I lay beside you? I won’t touch you at all.”
Louisa swallowed harshly, suspicion shining in her eyes.
“I could even build up the pillows between us if that makes you feel better,” Jerome went on, a little desperate. He didn’t think he would be able to sleep if he wasn’t with her tonight. Is this the reason she looks so drawn? Because of her nightmares?
Louisa said nothing for a long moment, but when she nodded, Jerome felt a rush of relief. She shifted over to one side of the bed and Jerome proceeded to stack the pillows down the center. Once she seemed to be satisfied with the barrier between them, she laid down. Jerome did the same, though he was eager to stare at her instead.
They said nothing to each other for a while. Jerome stared into the darkness of the room, listening to her gentle breathing beside him. He was tempt
ed to ask what the dream had been about. He’d heard her call out to her uncle, who Jerome believed to be the same man he’d seen at Warwick Manor. What had he done to make her cry out like that?
“You are in very little clothing.”
Louisa’s soft voice instantly had Jerome’s heart racing. He hadn’t even noticed his state of undress when he came rushing to her. “I hope that does not make you feel uncomfortable.”
A long moment passed before she answered. “It does not.”
Jerome hid his smile. He wished he could look at her, if only to see her beauty in sleep. “I was gone for the entire day,” he told her. “Did you happen to notice?”
“I did.”
Pleasure rushed through him. Her responses were short, but at least they were not filled with their usual annoyance. “My day was rather draining, I must say,” he went on. “I met with a young Marquess in Bath to discuss future business relations. Would you like to hear about it?”
