by Regina Scott
But apparently not suspicions.
He was standing by the hearth when she entered, hands clasped behind the back of his navy coat. His head was down, as if he were eyeing the fire instead of the portrait over the mantel. In the painting, the ethereally beautiful Evangeline late Duchess of Wey, sat with a golden-haired baby in her arms, her other daughters on either side. Did Alaric’s heart give a painful thump every time he looked at it? Jane’s did. How sad to have left three daughters behind.
But how odd that the late duchess’s portrait was the only one not gracing the walls at Wey Castle.
He turned as she came into the room, inclining his head in a nod. “Jane. Everything ready for us to return to the castle tomorrow?”
Jane nodded, moving for the chessboard on the table along the wall. Unlike its counterpart at the castle, this withdrawing room was more understated, with walls a creamy jade color and few of Her Grace’s ornaments strewn about. The wood-wrapped hearth warmed a camelback sofa patterned in spring leaves with several scroll-back chairs opposite. For some reason, the footman hadn’t taken up his usual spot by the door.
“I’ll have Betsy and Maud put the last things into the trunks tomorrow,” she said, standing beside the chair she occupied when they were playing. “The clothes we ordered for the girls will be sent on as they are finished. It will be good to be home.”
Even as she said the words, she started. Home. Since running away from Berkshire to be wed, she’d never truly had a home. Now the castle was her place. She felt a smile forming.
His smile did not answer it. “Anything else of import?”
Jane shrugged. “No. We won’t resume lessons until we reach the castle.”
He picked up a poker and stirred the coals in the hearth. “No last-minute visits?”
Oh. Jane straightened. “I almost forgot. I saw Miss Thorn today.”
He refused to look at her. “Did you?”
“Yes. She was just coming out of that house down the square when the girls and I were passing. She’s fine, and so is Fortune.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Did she have any explanation for her disappearance?”
Jane shook her head. “Not a good one. She said I was placed. She had work to do elsewhere.”
He set the poker aside. “That cannot explain her refusal to see us.”
“I agree. But the lady didn’t offer another.”
“And you?” he asked, meeting her gaze at last. “Have you another to offer?”
~~~
Alaric waited, a part of himself fearing to hear what she would confess. He’d ordered the footman to other duties so he could talk to Jane alone. He hadn’t wanted to believe his eyes when he’d seen her and Miss Thorn standing on the street, conversing as if nothing untoward had happened. Then, one look at his carriage, and the so-called employment agency owner had bolted yet again. How could he keep fighting against the evidence before him?
Jane merely shrugged. “Well, she’s not too keen on you or Mr. Mayes.”
That was no answer either. “And why would that be?” he asked, moving closer to the chessboard.
Jane sighed. “If you have something against Miss Thorn, let’s just hear it. I find the whole thing confusing.”
“As do I,” he assured her as he reached her side. “I have no proof that she is anything other than what she claims. But I don’t like mysteries.”
She cocked her head. “You don’t like believing what you can’t touch, you can’t see or hear. Faith, like love, isn’t like that. You must remember with your wife.”
“I never claimed to love my wife.” He wasn’t sure why he was confiding that now, but it seemed important that she understand. “We tolerated each other, but some days I’m not sure we were even friends.”
Her face puckered as she straightened. “I’m sorry to hear that. I always knew Jimmy loved me, even if he loved the cavalry as much. She was a demanding mistress, and, in the end, she killed him, but I don’t blame her. Life for him was the saddle.” Tears gleamed like stars in the dark of her eyes.
“And life for Evangeline was her daughters,” he murmured. “She’d be pleased to see how you care for them.”
She dropped her gaze. “I’m not so sure about that.”
He put his finger under her chin and tipped her gaze up to meet his. “I am.”
She was staring at him as if she didn’t know him. At the moment, he wasn’t sure he knew himself. Want and need collided against honor and duty, and he didn’t know which would win until he lowered his head and kissed her.
She tasted like honey, thick and rich, and he wanted to go on tasting her until he drowned in the touch. Every part of him felt alive for the first time. This was what a marriage was meant to be.
A noise made him raise his head. Jane’s eyes were closed, her cheeks pink, her lips full.
But Larissa stood in the doorway, eyes wide and startled. He must have made a movement toward her, for she bolted like a frightened deer.
And he knew he had a lot of explaining to do, to her, to Jane, and most of all to himself.
~~~
Jane blinked, feeling as if the world had suddenly shifted under her, or perhaps she had suddenly shifted into another world.
Alaric had kissed her.
She’d been kissed before. Like everything in his life, Jimmy’s kisses had been spontaneous, enthusiastic, rather like the attentions of an overgrown puppy. This kiss had been deeper, more powerful, as if she’d jumped feet first into the warm waters of the Mediterranean. She could scarcely think, only feel. She reached up, touched his cheek, wanting only to continue this closeness.
Yet, from out of the depths of her bemusement, she noticed he was staring beyond her. Dropping her hand, she glanced back, but saw no one. Still, she had enough of her wits about her to make sense of his reaction.
“We were seen.”
He nodded, cheeks pinking. “By Larissa.”
Worse and worse. The girl didn’t like Jane as a governess. She would be inconsolable if she thought Jane was even closer to her father.
“Well, at least it wasn’t Callie,” she joked, “or she’d have reported it to half the staff by now.”
He grimaced, stepping back from her. “Forgive me, Mrs. Kimball. I have no idea what came over me.”
But was just as determined as ever to retreat before betraying himself further.
“I could make this easy for you,” she said. “Tell you it was all my fault, tender my resignation. But you kissed me. I suspect we need to talk about it.”
He ran his hand back through his hair, even as he moved to distance himself from her. “I have no excuse for my behavior, save one. I allowed my admiration of you to overcome good sense. It will not happen again.”
Of course not. Loving Jane Kimball, wanting Jane Kimball, made no sense in his world. A cavalry officer’s widow, a governess, would never be good enough to act as his duchess. And she certainly wouldn’t allow a different kind of relationship. Colonel Travers may have had other thoughts, but she was not the sort to give herself outside marriage. She knew the value of commitment, of partnership. And she’d have no recourse legally otherwise.
“Quite right,” she said. “You’re not the kind of master to take advantage of the staff, and I’m not the kind of governess to allow it. I suspect the best we can do is go on as if it hadn’t happened.”
He did not look comforted. “You forget. Larissa saw us.”
Jane sighed. “Yes, of course. I doubt an explanation from me would help. And I don’t know what I’d even say.”
He started for the door. “I’ll speak to her. Return to your duties, Jane, and rest assured I won’t trouble you further.”
For once in her life, she had no answer. She watched him stride out the door, as if determined to flee from what they felt for each other. Perhaps it was for the best. She’d never been one to hide from emotion. She was more likely to embrace it, encourage it, see how far it would take her. She would never make a
good wife for a man so controlled, duke or not.
And yet, that control had slipped. Over the last six weeks, she’d watched him grow closer to his daughters, involving himself more in their lives, encouraging and supporting them. He wasn’t completely cold, unreachable. He just needed an excuse to talk, to touch.
To kiss.
Yes, she could have made it easy. She could have encouraged him into her bed. But she wanted more. She wanted all of him, a friend, a lover, a husband.
Anything less would never satisfy. It was all or nothing, and it very much looked as if the answer was nothing.
Chapter Eighteen
Bounder. Coward. Dastard. Alaric called himself several other names as he went in search of his oldest daughter. What had he been thinking to kiss Jane like that? It was ridiculous, unconscionable.
Some of the finest moments of his life.
He willed his speeding pulse to slow, his breath to come evenly. He knew the excitement of passion—he’d sired three daughters and a son, after all. But nothing had prepared him for the way he had reacted when his lips had met Jane’s. He’d wanted to press her close, shower kisses across her cheeks, her mouth, protect her and cherish her all the days of his life. These were not the thoughts an employer should hold for his employee.
Even if he was finding it hard to remember she was an employee.
He shook the emotions away. It didn’t matter how he felt about Jane, his admiration of her inventiveness, her optimism, her speaking eyes and ample curves. He had obligations, duties, one of which was to marry again. She was not the woman he needed for his duchess and the mother of his children. Like his mother, that woman would have to reign over Society with grace, aplomb. She must command servants with a quirk of her brow, inspire devotion with a smile. The formidable Duke of Wey needed an equally formidable Duchess of Wey.
Besides, he had no business interjecting intimacies he had no intention of honoring in marriage. That wasn’t fair to Jane or himself.
Now, if he could just find a way to explain that to his daughter.
First, he had to find his daughter. He tried the bedchamber she’d been sharing with Belle and Callie while they were in town, but the nursery maids had just realized Larissa had disappeared and begun searching the other chambers nearby. He asked them to stand down, reassured Callie and Belle that everything was fine, and continued on.
But every room he tried was empty of human habitation, every alcove silent and bare. He should have realized Larissa would turn to only one person besides himself and Jane for comfort. His mother must have returned from her evening entertainment sooner than expected, for he found her reclining on the divan in her bedchamber, Larissa cuddled against her side, his daughter’s blue flannel nightgown at odds with the cream silk of his mother’s lace-bedecked gown.
“Larissa brought me some interesting news,” his mother said as his daughter buried her face in her grandmother’s shoulder.
“I’m sure she found it more disturbing than interesting,” he said. His mother swung her skirts aside, and he ventured to sit at the foot of the long, pink satin-covered couch. “I came to find you, Larissa. I want to explain.”
She sniffed, refusing to so much as look at him. “You kissed Mrs. Kimball.”
His mother was watching him, and he couldn’t tell from her expression whether she hoped he would deny it or confirm it.
“Yes, I did,” he said. “We both regret it very much.”
Larissa raised her head, the hollowness in her eyes echoing inside him. “You do?”
He nodded. “Sometimes even adults make the wrong choices. When we realize it, we work to rectify matters.”
“And how do you propose to do that?” his mother asked.
Her voice had a decided edge. Was she afraid he was going to discharge Jane, or marry her?
“Mrs. Kimball and I agreed the kiss was inappropriate,” he told them both. “It will not happen again. She is on her way to resume her duties.”
Larissa’s lower lip trembled. “So, she won’t be punished for breaking the rules?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to deny it, but curiosity stopped the thought. “What rules do you think she broke, Larissa?”
She waved a hand. “Dozens! She breaks them all the time, and no one does anything. Servants are not to speak back to their masters, but she corrects me. People are to respect their betters, but she argues with you. Unmarried ladies are never to kiss a gentleman, but she kissed you!”
He felt as if he walked a tightrope like a performer at Astley’s. One misstep, and he would fall to his doom.
“I kissed her, Larissa,” he said. “The fault is mine and mine alone. She is your governess, not a typical servant. And as your governess it is her duty to correct you when you make a mistake.”
She pouted. “Who corrects her when she makes a mistake?”
“That is my role,” he told her. “One of the reasons she reports to me every evening is so I can learn about your progress and correct any mistakes she might be making.”
Still Larissa’s militant look didn’t ease. “But she’s telling you things about us. We aren’t allowed to explain our side of the matter.”
“Very well,” he conceded. “One of you may accompany Mrs. Kimball each evening, on a rotating basis. You may come tomorrow, Callie the next day, and Belle the day after.”
Larissa inclined her head graciously. “Thank you, Father.”
Her grandmother patted her shoulder. “There now. Back you go to the others. I’d like a few words with your father.”
Larissa scooted off the sofa and offered him a smile before heading toward the door. His mother rose and went to shut it after her. Then she turned to face him.
“What were you thinking? Your father wouldn’t have countenanced such behavior.”
He refused to wince, though the words were like a lash. “I know that, Mother. You can say nothing to me I haven’t already said to myself.”
“So it would seem.” She returned to the divan and fixed him with a stare. “Can you really put this behind you?”
“I must. Jane is too good with the girls.”
“There is that.” She leaned against the tilted back of the divan as if wearied by the whole affair. “I will look for another wife for you. I would have started before now, but I wasn’t sure you were ready.”
“I’m not.” He rose to pace the room. “I appreciate the offer, Mother, but I don’t want another arranged marriage. Is it impossible that I might meet the right woman, without anyone’s help?”
“Not impossible,” she allowed, “but unlikely. We are isolated at the castle, and you hate coming to town and attending the balls and such. My friends have any number of eligible daughters. I’m sure one will suit.”
He wasn’t. Try as he might, when he thought of courting, his stomach knotted. He didn’t want another stranger in the adjoining bedchamber, across the table at breakfast and dinner, in his arms on the ballroom floor.
He wanted Jane, and he couldn’t have her.
And that sounded like one of his daughters, denied a treat. He wasn’t a child. He wasn’t even a young man on the flush of his first encounter with a lady. He knew what was expected of him, what his family, staff, and tenants needed. He raised his head but couldn’t stop the sigh that came out.
“Very well, Mother,” he said, turning to face her. “Consult your friends, see who’s available. I will do my best to be civil.”
“Civility,” she said with a shake of her silver head, “will not be enough. Each of these young ladies has a host of suitors, some as titled and wealthy as you. If you want a second bride, you will have to be charming, witty, every inch the duke your father trained you to be.”
He nodded. “Understood. I will do what I must to win a bride.”
Even if his heart wasn’t in it.
~~~
They returned to the castle the next day.
“It’s been such a pleasure having you and the little girls wi
th us,” the housekeeper said to Jane as they came down the stairs for the carriage. She wrung her meaty hands before her white starched apron. “I hope you’ll come again as soon as you can.”
Jane had a feeling soon would not be soon enough for Larissa or Mrs. Winters.
Alaric appeared to be in the greatest hurry to leave. He rode one of the town horses home, not even sitting in the carriage with her and the girls, as if they had contracted some dread disease. Neither he nor Larissa had mentioned the kiss, though Larissa had taken great joy in informing Jane that either her or one of her sisters would be accompanying Jane from now on whenever she made her report to their father. She wasn’t sure why he felt the need to distance himself. She wasn’t about to beg him for another kiss.
Even if she dreamed of another kiss.
She had no idea why she was so fixated on it. It wasn’t as if they could marry. He was her employer. He was a duke; she wasn’t even related to the aristocracy. She gave herself a good talking to before they reached the castle and settled back into their routine. She schooled herself each time she descended the stairs to make her report. No more intimate chess matches among the bookcases. No more sharing of thoughts, feelings. But then he’d greet her and his daughter, and her gaze would latch onto the lips that had caressed hers so sweetly. Or she’d ask him a question, and he’d shift on the chair, arms braced on the desk, and she’d remember the feel of his arms around her.
Oh, but she was lost.
She was merely glad the girls kept her so busy. Besides the usual lessons in the schoolroom, there was riding and painting. True to his word, the duke had hired a voice master who tutored Larissa and Callie twice a week. An elderly maestro from Spain, he was always gracious to Jane and encouraging of the girls.
Then there were Her Grace’s weekly teas. Jane had become adept at murmuring conversations with Patience along the wall while Lady Carrolton and Her Grace exchanged pleasantries and gossip and questioned the girls mercilessly. She wasn’t sure whether it was Patience’s influence or her own initial defiant act of walking out, but Lady Carrolton never prophesized doom for the girls again. When Larissa and Callie sang a duet, both dowagers seemed quite pleased.
