“She wants you to meet her at Mrs. Gray’s Dress Shop. It is all arranged and will be very discreet.”
* * * *
Isabella waited for her in the back room of Mrs. Gray’s Dress Shop.
“Thank you for coming, Miss Darling.”
Jeanne hugged herself. Her gaze flickered over the collection of fabric jammed into the small space. A bolt of shimmering cloth of silver particularly caught her eye. It must cost a fortune.
The dust was making her nose burn and run. “What can I possibly do for you?”
Lady Somerville motioned to the chair next to her. “Please sit, Miss Darling, you’re making me nervous with your pacing.”
Jeanne sat in the chair but just on the edge and folded her hands in her lap.
“You are a special friend to Hartley?” Lady Somerville said.
What was she supposed to say to that question? Lady Somerville knew that she was David’s mistress and that he kept her in a house.
Jeanne nodded. Her gloves were beginning to stick to her palms and that began to itch. She took her handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed at her nose.
“David had a special friend before. Only one that I know of. My sister, Thérèse.”
“Thérèse was your sister?”
Lady Somerville compressed her lips and nodded. “You know that David provides her with a house and an income.”
Jeanne nodded slowly.
“She’s ill now.”
“I am very sorry to hear that.”
“Yes, well, it does affect her in many ways. One of them is her sanity.”
“Then I am doubly sorry to hear that.”
“It becomes worse every day. I fear for her safety.”
Jeanne lifted her shoulders. “What can I say? I am very sorry.”
“I need your help.”
“My help?”
“With Hartley. He doesn’t understand. He is too softhearted where she is concerned. She was his first love and you know how men can be about that.”
“What could I possibly do?”
“I know that your father was insane. He died in the asylum. You knew when the time came that he must be committed. You had the strength to do that.”
“I don’t think it was strength. It was just necessity.”
“I do see it as strength and you must speak with David and convince him act in a manner that will be best for Thérèse.”
“But I only committed my father because I couldn’t afford any servants to help me with him. I was only eighteen and I had no choices open to me. Surely Thérèse has more options.”
“Yes, a genteel confinement. But David allows her to live in a house with just a housekeeper to watch over her. There are no locks to keep her safe from herself. She may come and go as she chooses. She’s become lost and wandered about, several times. I am Lady Somerville. I have a duty to my husband and son, and also to David. You must know how I help him with his work. The social aspect I mean.”
Jeanne nodded. “Yes, I do know. You are a great help to him.”
“Well, I am torn apart inside with worry for my sister. I mean, I try to watch over her but I do not live with her.”
“Could she not live with you?”
“She refuses and David enables her to continue to defy my wishes.”
“You truthfully believe she is a danger to herself?”
“She is my beloved sister. How could I possibly want to see her confined if it were not completely necessary? But if something doesn’t change, I fear I shall be at my wits’ end.”
Jeanne recalled vividly every sleepless night she’d spent watching over Papa. The constant fuzzy head and constant sick feeling in her stomach that kept her from eating. Of course she would help Isabella if she could. She couldn’t deny such a personal plea.
But how would David react to such a plea, especially given his latest unhappiness at her refusal to accompany him to tour that asylum?
* * * *
“I won’t see her confined.”
It was a little past one in the morning. The world seemed so silent that David’s vexed tone sounded even more ominous than perhaps it would have otherwise been. Jeanne sat up straighter against her pillows, watching as he removed his jacket and laid it over a chair. “Lady Somerville says she is a danger to herself?”
“A danger to herself?’
“Yes, she says that she has wandered off and become lost several times now.”
David’s dark brows snapped together even as his fingers froze upon his waistcoat buttons. “Good God, Jeanne, she’s too ill, too weak to leave her home unaided now. She can’t even walk downstairs. Mrs. Murchison and her daughters are more than able to care for her at present.”
Maybe Isabella was privy to information that David didn’t know. Maybe David could be too softhearted where his old love was concerned. Lady Somerville might be exactly correct. The prospect did not rest easily on Jeanne’s heart. “David, why are you so opposed to seeing her properly confined?”
“Properly confined? Locked away and denied any dignity at all?”
“Surely it wouldn’t be that way.”
“Believe me, if Isabella had her way, it would be. She is ashamed of her sister. Not only because of her current mental decline but also because of the way that Thérèse behaved in the past with me. With other men after me. She was a scandal.”
“You made her a scandal.”
“No, I did not. She had made her decision to be scandalous before we met. She had nearly ruined herself with her eldest sister’s husband. There was a child and it was farmed out in the way of these things. Her family hushed things up and she became engaged to Lord Toovey. He was a friend of my younger brother, and his family held a house party where I met Thérèse. I was twenty and she was older by two years. We experienced an immediate attraction. It was like nothing I had ever experienced. It seemed at the time that we could not help ourselves, yet looking back it just seems to have been more a matter of human weakness and inexcusable caving in to mere lust.”
“Your father forbade you to marry her?”
“Yes, of course he did. She was a commoner. Certainly she had a fat dowry but our family was wealthy. My father had no incentive to accept the daughter of a merchant.”
It hurt to hear him say those truths. That a man in his position, a duke from an old illustrious family with wealth, could never accept a commoner for a bride. Then something struck her. “But then Isabella is a commoner…”
“Yes, she is. You wouldn’t guess it now, would you?” He smiled in that barely there way. “When Thérèse came to live under my protection, she lost her dowry and the sum was added to Isabella’s. It made Isabella one very attractive bride. She was more of a classical beauty than Thérèse.”
“Really?” That was a shock to hear for she had pictured Thérèse as a great beauty.
“Thérèse was very thin, she has a sort of…I don’t know how to say it…elfin face? And she has never possessed a decent bosom. But she had a very carnal allure—it is hard to explain. So many men adored her. After she left me, she married a dashing naval hero who was killed at Trafalgar. Shortly after his death, when she learned that she was very ill, she prevailed on my help, my protection.”
“You loved her?” She had to ask but she didn’t know if she could bear the answer.
“Yes, I suppose I did, but it is funny how time changes some impressions. I know I loved her but I cannot fully grasp what that feeling was like. I knew so much pain because of her. And then guilt. Those feelings have created a sort of buffer through which I cannot access the old feelings of love and passion that drove me so strongly in my youth.” He sat on the bed beside her and took her hand. “It is impossible to imagine that I once felt for her the same intensity of passion I have known for you.”
Warmth slammed into her heart. And relief too. But she still wondered about something. “David, why did you never marry?”
“I had Thérèse. I had no time, energy, or incl
ination for a wife.”
“Yes, but surely your father…I mean dukes marry young, don’t they?”
“I was engaged. But she jilted me for an American merchant.”
That was a most shocking revelation. It left her quiet for a time. Yet she wanted to know more about his family history. “Why would your father allow Henry to marry a commoner?”
He released her hand and leaned back against the pillow. “Henry is the second son. Second best. My father viewed that as good as useless. Meaningless. Especially since I had survived childhood and was of marriageable age. The spare was no longer needed. Henry certainly wasn’t expected to sire an heir to the dukedom, either. My father allowed him to wed Isabella. He saw no reason to deny a second son the prospect of marrying into his own wealth.” David’s smile became rueful. “Especially since Isabella was about seven months away from presenting Henry with a child.”
True shock washed over her. “Goodness.”
“Now that child is my heir apparent. My father’s will has been thwarted on that. If I never wed, never produce a direct heir, he shall be the next Hartley. It was a very shrewd strategy on Isabella’s part to secure her position. She’s always been that way. Never underestimate her.”
“But she is your friend.”
“She helps me grease the social wheels for my endeavors. I know and accept her weaknesses and limitations. I always strive to be tolerant. My father was so intolerant. His intolerance for life and everyone around him led him to be a monster. He confined my mother.”
This conversation was full of nothing but shocking revelations. Her mind couldn’t keep up with them. “Your mother was mad?”
“No, she was not mad in the strictest definition. But my father’s uncontrollable rages over the years wore her down. It made her nerves more and more fragile until she broke completely. Her weakness, her increasing need for care and understanding, drove him to further anger. And she became very ill. His patience ended. He didn’t like seeing her or being reminded that he’d played a part in her demise. God but they were two people who should never have married.
“He confined her to her chambers. It killed her. It killed her years before her body died. Do you know that is how he prevented me from marrying Thérèse?”
“How?”
“When I came of age, I bought my own home and I took my mother and my brother to live there, in a place of peace away from the constant fear. Father didn’t stop them from coming. But he told me if I dared to wed Thérèse then he would forcibly remove my mother from my home. He told me that his duchess would never suffer to live with such a disobedient son.”
“But that makes no sense. Your mother didn’t care. She was happier with you.”
“Well, my dear, the truly insane do not make sense at times, as you well know. My father was the insane one. Everyone knew it. No one dared do anything about it.”
She stared at the coverlet. “I am sorry that I didn’t understand about Thérèse and how your growing up shaped your view of a person being confined.”
“If she were a violent person, perhaps I would think differently. If she becomes violent, I will change my view. But for now, it does no harm for her to simply live in her old house and know that she is free to come and go. Even if she is not truly well enough to do so.”
“Yes, I understand.”
He squeezed her hand. “It is not like with your father. He had become truly violent and you had no choice in the matter.”
She didn’t want to think of Papa tonight. “I am tired. I want to sleep.” She pulled her hand away from his. “I want a sea change. Dry land.”
“Of course,” he said.
She left the bed. She changed from the silken robe to her thick flannel nightdress. She was aware of his eyes upon her body the whole time and knew he had wanted her tonight.
She had nothing to give him of herself. She had tried to nap in the early evening, as was her custom when David would see her very late. But her mind had been full of anxiety over approaching David about Thérèse. The meeting with Isabella and the ensuing discussion with David had exhausted her in a way she couldn’t adequately explain. When she crawled into bed, he went to the sidebar and poured himself a brandy.
“How did Isabella contact you?”
Her heart began to hammer. She was tired— too tired to deal with any more agitation tonight. Knowing David’s feelings for Toovey, she anticipated his likely reaction if she shared the full story with him.
“She sent for me.”
There. That was not exactly a lie, was it?
“I am surprised she would even venture to do such a thing. She takes herself and her reputation so seriously.”
“I suppose she must. Being common-born yet married to a duke’s brother must be a tremendous pressure upon her.”
“I suppose.” David downed the remainder of his drink and then set the glass down on the sidebar. “It seems very early for bed.”
“I am past exhausted, David.”
“I had wanted to discuss again the prospect of your accompanying me to Scotland.”
“To tour that asylum?” Jeanne was surprised that he would bring this subject up again. Why wouldn’t he understand?
David took in that pale, startled look on Jeanne’s face. She would close herself off again. She would hide. Well, he wouldn’t allow it. He had to know she had the strength to face this fear. If she couldn’t face this, how would she ever face all the trials that marriage to a duke would bring? “Yes, I want to take you on a tour of that asylum, among other things. We can delay our return so I might take you to my estate.”
Or he might marry her in Scotland. It all depended on how she responded the tour and if she agreed with his ideas for their life going forward.
He took a deep breath and pushed back the urge to reveal more of his thoughts than he should. Better to wait and see if she was capable of becoming a more open, stronger person. He didn’t like to believe this reluctance to embrace life fully was really the true Jeanne, but then again he didn’t want tie their lives together if she couldn’t bear up under everything that would be expected of a common-born girl who marries an older, titled, powerful man.
“Jeanne, don’t you ever want more from life than you might have expected to have when you were in your garret with your father?”
She wouldn’t look at him. That maddened him. He folded his arms and tried to wait for her answer. Finally, his patience evaporated and he exhaled sharply.
She looked up, her expression surprised, as though she didn’t know she’d just closed him out. In truth, she could be hurtful at times.
She also could be damned obstinate. But he couldn’t exactly order her to go with him anymore than he could order her to love him. Still, he couldn’t understand how he’d been so wrong in his assessment of her. He’d thought he had perceived the flame of idealism in her soul. He couldn’t help trying to further persuade her. “Aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to see how a more progressive asylum might differ from the place where your father lived?”
“David, I have tried to explain. I can’t bear to see people who are like that. I can’t bear the futility and waste of their lives.”
“But surely your experience with your father created some better sympathy for individuals who are afflicted. We live in a time of dramatic changes and one of those changes will be a more humane view of the insane and improved treatment for them. Isn’t there something in you that demands to be a part of that movement, in memory of the suffering your father went through?”
She sat, hugging her bent knees and staring down at the coverlet. “You suddenly sound like you’re giving a speech in the House of Lords.”
“I can’t help that. It is my life.”
“Your life is giving speeches in the House of Lords or crusading on the part of the insane or the sick or the poor or whoever else needs a white knight to defend them.”
He chose to ignore the bitter tone that had crept into her voice. He’d pl
aced her on the defensive. “Both. They have been inseparable endeavors for me. I want to see our country improved for all. I also want to see prison reform, repeal of the poor laws, better and free education for all. But one person can only do so much. So, yes, crusading for the insane could be said to be my life.”
“It is not my life.”
“I am saying I want it to be your life, too, Jeanne.”
“You are not listening to me. You don’t see me clearly. I am still just that girl who lives in her garret and writes insipid, meaningless stories for children with no moral messages in them. I just want to be left alone and to have my peace.”
Her shoulders sank and she looked so woebegone that the sight pulled at the center of his chest. He went to sit beside her on the bed and took her hand. “I don’t believe that you simply want to be left alone and to not have your life count for something higher.”
“You must believe it. It is who I am. You must accept me or reject me but I cannot be more than I am.”
“I see in you such compassion and kindness—and why you want to deny this, I do not know. Why you want to waste the potential for your talents—that I also do not understand.”
She rolled her shoulders. The very listlessness of the act increased his vexation with her. “I can’t be the person you envision, David.”
“Can’t you see that I am trying to create a place for you in my life? That I am trying to envision how our lives could be entwined?”
“I am a part of your life, David. I am your mistress.”
He had to tell her the truth of the matter. “I need more from you.”
She slipped her hand from his and stared at her lap. “You wanted only a mistress. You went to great pains to make sure I understood and those were the terms I accepted. I never led you to believe I wanted to be included in your political life or any other part of your life. I am just here for your leisure hours and to give you comfort. In return, you provide me with a very luxurious existence. It is enough for me.”
“It is no longer enough for me.”
Finally, she looked up at him. Her face was pale and her eyes wide. “It must be enough. It is all I can give you.”
Her Mystery Duke Page 23
