Her One True Love

by Rachel Brimble

  “Well, it is personal if it affects my daughter’s or Miss Danes’s reputation. Katy has told me you are in the city on business. Yet, here you are attending afternoon tea with another woman, other than your wife. What else am I, or anyone else, supposed to surmise from that?”

  The entire tearoom seemed to delve into silence. Matthew glanced around the room at the different faces. Some showed malicious enjoyment, others utter embarrassment. He opened his mouth to respond, but Jane spoke first.

  “First of all, whatever is happening between Squire Cleaves and his wife is nobody’s business but theirs. Second, Matthew kindly agreed to Katy’s invitation to accompany me here today, and I am embarrassed that it appears the invitation was only meant for yours and everyone else’s enjoyment and his humiliation.”

  Katy gasped. “Oh Jane. Please tell me you do not mean that. I would never do such a thing.”

  Mrs. Wrexford clasped Katy’s hand where it lay on the table. “Do not lower yourself to defend such a slanderous allegation, my dear. You are a lady.”

  Jane raised her eyebrows. “I beg to differ. I think a real lady is interested in other people’s lives as either a friend or support. Any other interest can only possibly be self-serving or malicious. Now, if you don’t mind, I think the squire and I will bid you all good afternoon.”

  Matthew laid his napkin on the table and stood, gently easing out Jane’s chair and glancing around the table once more. “There was absolutely no need for Miss Danes to defend me, because if to humiliate me was the intention, it has failed dismally.”

  Miss Wrexford’s cheeks darkened as she whipped her wide-eyed stare from Matthew to Jane. “I merely thought by the squire coming today, he could—”

  “Provide you with something different to gossip about once we departed?” Jane glared. “Squire Cleaves is a gentleman and a friend, and as I only usually visit the city during the Season, he is helping me find my feet.” She turned to look at him, her eyes twinkling with kindness and her mouth stretched into a relaxed smile . . . well, it would appear relaxed to anyone who didn’t know Jane as he did. “His views are that women and men are equals, I can assure you of that. He listens to my advice and words as far as our home village is concerned, in the same way he would a male counterpart.” She carefully placed her napkin on the table. “Now, as he is a gentleman and I would hate to witness provocation that might make him any less than that, I think we will take our leave.”

  Matthew stood behind her as she rose gracefully from her chair, his body filled with suppressed pride. He looked at Mrs. Wrexford. “I am a gentleman, but not gentlemanly enough that I won’t say this. If you do not find a way to curb your clear need for malicious gossip, you may well find you lack support in the many intelligent and resourceful women who could support you in your cause.”

  Mrs. Wexford lifted her chin. “Do you presume to tell me and my associates how to deal with women’s issues, Squire Cleaves?”

  “Not at all. I presume to tell you that your attitude could well hold the views and respect of women in stagnant waters if you continue to muddy them with misplaced words and intentions.” He looked to Jane and held out his arm to her. “Shall we?”

  The coolness of her gaze and the absence of her smile alerted him to the chance that something else, other than staunch support, had been behind her dressing-down of Mrs. Wrexford.

  She slid her hand into the crook of his arm and turned to the table. “I thank you, ladies, for making my second day in the city such a disappointing one. Good afternoon.”

  The unwelcome feeling that he’d never truly known the woman on his arm swept through Matthew as he covered Jane’s hand. He’d sensed a subtle change in her these past few months. A change he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but whatever it was, it made him more aware of her . . . he would even go as far as to say the change heightened the attraction he had always had for her.

  His heart picked up speed as he stared ahead, ignoring the curious stares of the diners. He glanced at Jane once more. She held her chin high and her body rigid when, for years, she had been relaxed, smiling, and never with a frown upon her pretty face. It was almost as though her infamous love and support of others had wavered, as though she had begun to doubt its purpose.

  She walked beside him so self-assured and proud. She was evolving into something bigger and better than she’d ever been before. So why did it make him feel ill at ease that he might be part of the reason behind the change in her? Why did the need to have her talk to him, confide in him, and reveal what she thought suddenly feel as vital as his next breath?

  If he was the catalyst for her change, did that mean one wrong thought, word, or action on his part would sever the ties already strained to breaking between them? The prospect made him grip her hand tighter, as though in doing so, she might stay with him awhile longer.

  Chapter 7

  The moment they were out of sight of the Pump Room, Jane pulled her hand from Matthew’s arm and gripped her reticule. His gait stiffened at her action, but they continued to walk through the city center side by side. Regret and euphoria mixed as Jane looked left and right, wondering the best place they could go to talk alone. He would undoubtedly ask her why she had leapt to his defense so vehemently when her behavior toward him had been less than amicable for weeks now.

  It had been impossible to stand by and allow Katy’s mother to harangue him that way. Worse, to do so in public. The woman was insufferable. Having met Mrs. Wrexford on several social occasions, Jane had noticed that Katy always seemed joined to her mother’s hip. Jane scowled. She could only hope and pray Katy did not end up as cold, unfeeling, and ungracious as her tyrannical mother.

  Monica had warned that, more often than not, their class of society in Bath cared about themselves and themselves only. Whatever Katy thought she might be working toward with her women’s group, Matthew’s insinuation of their female cattiness was valid. How would men ever look at women differently if so many of them continued to publicly demonstrate such stereotypical behavior?

  Anger pinched at Jane’s cheeks, despite the nervousness of her forthcoming conversation with Matthew. To suggest they return to her house would be preferable, but considering what she had to say, a place of neutrality would serve better in him taking her views seriously.

  She closed the hand he’d held in a bid to keep the warmth of his skin, the illusion of their unity, on her palm awhile longer. Would the infernal sensation in her heart that they should be together, as husband and wife . . . as workers side by side, ever abate? Her belief she had conquered her futile feelings toward him appeared to be entirely unfounded, if her anger at his treatment at tea was anything to hold measure by. He needed to leave. Go home and stay far away from Bath.

  She tipped her head to look at him. He already studied her. She snatched her gaze away. His blue eyes burned with questions. Jane swallowed as her mouth dried. He might not ever love her, but she had always valued their friendship and didn’t want that to change. Her defense of him had been a reflex. One she didn’t regret.

  She inhaled. “Why don’t we sit awhile in the park?”

  “Is it warm enough?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “You won’t be cold?”

  Always gracious, always caring, no matter the look in his eyes. She shook her head and looked at him again. “Believe me, what happened in the tearoom has stoked a fire inside me hot enough to keep us both warm.”

  His mouth twitched as though fighting a smile. “Well then, the park it is.”

  Cursing the amused tone of his voice and her stupid choice of words that could be deemed suggestive, Jane hurried her pace. His gait lengthened, easily matching hers, thus thwarting her need for some distance from him. By his side, she felt small, petite, and altogether too womanly. She wanted to stand tall and firm in front of him. Make him see that, despite Mrs. Wrexford’s clear intention to embarrass him, Jane longed to know his inner thoughts and feelings.

  Mostly as far a
s Elizabeth was concerned.

  Nerves knotted Jane’s stomach. She had no right to ask anything of him, but ask she must. She was tired of speculating and guessing what he did or didn’t feel. Whether she was entitled to them or not, she wanted answers. Considering their time together would soon end, the courage to ask if he only saw a friend whenever he looked at her surged through her. Even though his answer might cause more hurt than she’d already suffered.

  She had to know.

  They walked down the stone steps into the gardens. The beauty of the red-, gold-, and bronze-colored leaves, the vast expanse of the rich, green grass, and the varied colors of the ladies’ dresses lifted a little of the tension in Jane’s shoulders.

  After a moment’s brief hesitation, she slipped her hand into Matthew’s elbow, her heart skipping a beat when he once more closed his hand over hers on his forearm.

  “I appreciated your support with your friends.” His deep, masculine voice cut into her thoughts. “I hope in doing so, you haven’t alienated them. I would hate to think I am the cause of your losing company.”

  She met his gaze, as annoyance fueled once again inside. “If I have lost Katy’s friendship over defending you, then it was hardly worth having in the first place.”

  “But still, it is hard for me to think you would’ve been welcomed into their circle if it weren’t for my estrangement from Elizabeth. Despite Mrs. Wrexford’s misplaced judgment of me, I suspect the issues they discuss would interest you.”

  “Possibly.” She glanced at him. “But working with children is what I feel most compelled to do. I suspect it always will be.” They approached a man playing the spoons, his flat cap on the ground spotted with a spattering of coins. Drawing to a stop, Jane eased her hand from Matthew’s arm and withdrew a few coins from her reticule before tossing them into the cap.

  The man dipped his head in thanks, and Jane smiled before closing her reticule and holding Matthew’s arm once more. “The timing feels right, and sooner or later, I will find the place where I am destined to be.” She met his eyes. “And what about you? Will you be returning to the village soon?”

  “Soon enough.” He stared ahead, his expression somber. “I plan to meet with a few of my associates tomorrow and the next day. Hopefully those meetings will lead to some more ideas and prospects to the benefit of the villagers. Shall we sit?”

  He gestured toward a bench beside her, and when Jane sat, he lowered onto the seat beside her.

  Filling her lungs with courage, Jane inhaled. “So it’s still business as usual as far as you’re concerned? Even though you now know talk of you and Elizabeth’s separation seems to have seeped into society?”

  He shook his head and stared into the distance. “I have no time for such nonsense.”

  Her heart beat faster, but Jane pushed on. She would not leave the park without some insight into his heart and mind. “Is it nonsense, Matthew?”

  He faced her and frowned. “Of course. I’m surprised you think otherwise, considering your clear anger toward Miss Wrexford and her mother.”

  “My annoyance with them was provoked by their attempt to humiliate you in front of their peers. That doesn’t mean I consider the entirety of their comments nonsense. What are your intentions? What will you do about putting a stop to people’s comments and slandering of your marriage?”

  He arched his eyebrows. “What will I do?” He huffed out a laugh. “People can talk all they want. It will not affect me any more than it should you.”

  She closed her eyes and took a long breath, her frustration rising. Would he ever understand her interest in him? Would she ever understand it herself? She opened her eyes. “I think you are mistaken in your belief you didn’t love Elizabeth.”

  His eyes flashed with annoyance. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I am speaking to you as a friend.” Jane’s heart picked up speed. “If you love her, then you need to concentrate on saving your marriage as well as any business dealings. If you wish to retain the villagers’ respect—”

  “Are you inferring I have lost their respect?”

  Heat rose in Jane’s face and neck at the fiery anger in his eyes. She had been foolish to think he might talk to her, confide in her, when she was all too aware of his bad temperament over the last few months. She dropped her shoulders. “All I mean to say is we were friends and if that friendship meant anything to you, then—”

  “Were friends? We aren’t now?” His jaw tightened. “How can you say that when I am here with you? When I altered my plans to come into the city with you?”

  She stiffened. “You altered your plans? But I thought . . .”

  His cheeks reddened and he snatched his gaze from hers to look about the park. “I am just saying you and I are the last people who should be arguing, considering our mutual fondness of one another. I have more than enough to deal with, listening to everyone else’s speculation.” He met her gaze. “I couldn’t stand it if I had to be wary of what I do, and say, to you too.”

  Jane’s mind spun with the implication that Matthew had been lying when he said he was coming to the city anyway and had booked a hotel room days before he learned of her leaving Biddestone. Did this mean she had been neither blind nor stupid but had, time and again, seen something in his gaze, or heard something in his words, to imply their suitability and the chance of their growing to love one another?

  Painful hope pulsed through her blood, mixing with the shame that her feelings toward him had not diminished, despite her determination to quash them. She had to be certain. She could not surrender her resolve to do more, to leave the ideal of her and Matthew behind forever, when she knew nothing of his true feelings.

  She pulled back her shoulders. “Did you lie to me about the hotel already being booked?”

  His jaw tightened. “Yes.”

  Her heart stumbled over his frank admission. “Why?”

  “Because I didn’t want you and Jeannie to come here alone. I wanted to make sure you arrived at your father’s house in one piece.”

  Disappointment swept through her. Her safety was his only concern. “My welfare is not your responsibility. The village’s future is what should concern you, not me.”

  He drew his gaze over her face to linger a moment at her mouth. “Yes, well, maybe not caring about you is easier said than done.”

  Jane swallowed. “What does that mean?”

  “It means . . .” He lifted his gaze to hers, his blue eyes dark and intense. “It means you’ve changed. You seem hell-bent on proving something that I don’t understand, and that makes me worry for you . . . about you.”

  Insult that he deemed her incapable of looking after herself and Jeannie slashed through her heart like the sharp sting of a whip. “I am much changed. Life and experience have changed me, but I don’t need your worry. Your concern should only be the lack of work in the village and the men who rely on you to provide it.”

  “That is at the forefront of my mind, always. I might have brought forward my meetings in the city to accompany you here, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have done something about the village in the coming days or weeks. Biddestone is my priority. I thought that went without saying. To you, of all people.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

  The seconds beat out between them.

  Jane pulled back her shoulders as the need to sever their too-painful connection hurtled through her. “You need to conduct your business and go home. I don’t want you here.”

  His eyes blazed with anger. “Why does my being here bother you so much?”

  Because seeing you, hearing you, touching you hurts so, so much.

  She swallowed. “Because for one naïve moment I thought us friends of equal standing. That you would want for me whatever makes me happy. Instead, you treat me the same as my parents did. You presume I am nothing more than a fragile little creature who will bend in half in anything stronger than a puff of wind.”

  “I think no such thing.”<
br />
  “No? Yet you say nothing of how you feel about Elizabeth, or what her betrayal has done to you. You keep it all locked inside as though I am nothing more than a mere acquaintance. I always thought our relationship was closer than that. Clearly, I was wrong.”

  “Why is it so important that you know? Are you not hiding something from me too?”

  “Of course not.” Heat burned at her cheeks. “I care is all. I care about you.”

  He stared deep into her eyes, his gaze confused and wary. “Don’t. I don’t need your care.”

  Her heartache battled with the need to comfort him. His eyes were full of pain, and the thought that her angry words could be the cause of that pain, hurt so much more than she wanted it to. She stole her hand into his and tightened her fingers. “Talk to me, Matthew. Tell me how you feel now that you are estranged from Elizabeth. Tell me whether your heart is still hers and if it is, what you intend to do about it.”

  Matthew stared at Jane as fear gripped him. Fear that once he started to speak, the true pain Elizabeth’s infidelity had caused him would spew from his tongue and he’d have no way to curb the words. To speak of his humiliation, disappointment, and new cold, lifeless belief in a happily-ever-after was too much. Jane would never look at him as the same man again when she glimpsed his weakness.

  A weakness that he’d done his best to make his undeniably dispassionate relationship with Elizabeth worth something, despite their unity remaining a matter of business rather than love.

  How was he to tell Jane he’d never strayed as Elizabeth had, had never acted on his yearning to reach for Jane’s good heart as he fervently wanted to now. Would that really make him a better person than Elizabeth? He thought not.

  He stood. “We should head back. Dusk will soon be coming in.”

  “Matthew . . .”

  He held out his arm. A few seconds passed before she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow. Releasing his held breath, he eased her forward.